[Anon]
"Hey, yeah uhhh... I uhhh... I've arrived?"

[Anon]
"I'm in one piece aaaand I'm just outside the airport right now."

[Anon]
"I'll uh... I'll go see if I can find Spears today."

[Anon]
"Bye."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Oh, uh, I uh, love you."

Awkward.

With a light tap I end the call, sinking the phone into the depths of my pocket. She didn't pick up anyway - it went straight to voicemail.

And I'm not sure what I should be thinking about that.

Despite my former undertaking of epic proportions to reconnect with my very own raptor gee eff, it wasn't all rainbows and cotton-candy afterwards. The reality of our situation soon settled over us, like heavy lead clouds.

Firstly, I've left basically my entire life and all my possessions across an ocean to chase fluffy tail.

Secondly, I got broke in the process.

And I knew that I couldn't leech off the generosity of Reeda's family forever. At this point they've already paid twice over for a week-long stay at a hotel, and I didn't want them to go out of pocket.

They did say numerous times that I'm paying off my dues by helping them pack their stuff moving into their new Japanese home, but it just didn't sit well with me. All I really did was escort Reeda to various administrative offices around town anyway.

And even then these little excursions almost exclusively turned into dates too.

Good thing the people over there speak English reasonably well...

So anyway, I came back to the land of enchantment, Volcaderra Bluffs, to get my affairs in order here. Like actually officially graduating and all that.

Naturally, I did miss the last week of school, being in Japan and all, and the graduation ceremony with it. We've contacted Spears and he was surprisingly understanding about the situation, but he did need me to come back and get my papers and stuff - which is fair, I suppose.

Then there's the whole homelessness thing to deal with.

I still maintain residency here, but that'll only last till the end of the month.

Three days, in other words.

Next month will start with a weekend, however, and I just can't see the landlord being half-assed to come by till Monday. So that means I might get another three days gratis.

I haven't contacted my parents yet either, and didn't want to from all the way on the other side of the globe. It's something I'd rather do in person, though that still leaves me with having to look them up, too.

The trip to Rock Bottom could easily take the better part of a day, meaning that I'll have to spend a night there. Not that I expect to have a grand time back at the good ol' homestead, or that my parents would lease another flat for me - IN JAPAN -, but perhaps we can strike up a deal.

Just a couple of short months, till I find a stable job and settle in, surely.

Worst case scenario, I'll pay them back.

Cause I can totally see Dad wanting me to do that.

...

Aaaand, finally, while I'm here I've decided to go look Trish up as well, to find out if she's gotten her phone back, and to apologize and shit.

So weird to think that of all the people in the world, that little trigga is someone I WANT to go see.

I mean, I don't specifically need to, but... Well, during those two weeks spent in Japan, I think I've gotten a little more mature. Being faced with harsh circumstances will do that to you, I guess.

...

Anyhow, there's no time to waste. It's still early in the afternoon, and although the schoolyear is over, Volcano High is the first place I'd go look for Spears. He should have like, administrative duties or whatever? ...Right?

Though before that I'll just swing by my place real quick to drop off my bags - consistent of new clothes and a few souvenirs -, and then we'll see.

 

* * *

 

I pay the cab guy and get out, stepping into the shadows of the dilapidated buildings reaching to the skies, taking in the familiar sights and smells of Skinrow.

Dank like a sewer, just as I've remembered it, laden with the sharp fragrance of burning car tires. If it weren't for the fact that it sucks ass, I'd might feel nostalgic about it. Quite the change after cherry blossoms and what have you.

Seeing my old apartment building, now THAT does the trick, though.

And... Damn. Feels a lot more than two weeks, this silly little vacation I've been on.

...

With my hand lingering on the intercom panel I stand around for a little while longer, suddenly hesitant about... Everything.

Am I making the right decision, leaving this place behind? Certainly, there's Reeda waiting for me back in Japan, but...

...

Ugh, no time for soul-searching now. Let's stick to the plan.

Through sheer force of will only known to a person primed for pushing issues away instead of dealing them, I force my body to move, with renewed gusto climbing the stairs up to my floor.

It all feels so surreal, seeing these narrow corridors and battered walls again, the shabby, unkept wallpaper stretching across them as it always has. It's as if I've been living a dream, and now I've suddenly been thrust back into the real world.

Thankfully, my place didn't get broken into. Doesn't look like it anyway.

People have obviously been going in and out though, evidenced by several muddy shoeprints. And they've had absolutely no regard for my poor doormat.

Had to be either the landlord, or...

The cops.

After two weeks I suppose Trish had to find a way to get her phone back. Though, I don't actually know how long she waited. Not for long I assume.

I mean, I wouldn't want to spend a lot of time without my phone either. It's a phone.

...

The inside of the flat looks just the way I've left it. Hell, even my laptop is still on, running that shitty audio editor software I've used to clear up Reeda's call to track her down - which that totally wasn't creepy or anything...

I did work though, so... The end justifies the means, or something like that.

The next thing I notice is that Trish's phone is gone from the desk, replaced with a note.

'Fuck you'

...

Yup, that's Trish alright, I chuckle to myself as I flip the note over, wondering if there's anything else to it.

But no, there isn't. Short and straight to the point.

And... Right. I've deserved that.

...

I drop my bags on the bed, and take a quick look around, only to conclude that pretty much everything else is the way it was. As if I've never left.

Shit, even all the bags of munchies and emptied beer bottles are laying still around. And I don't even know how long it's been since I've had Reeda come over. One thing's for sure though, these sights don't do much to help me shake off this weird feeling I've been having. Quite the opposite, truly.

It's like I've gone back in time.

I half expect the school to be bustling with life when I go there. The same classes being held, the same people coming and going. I know it won't happen, but... I just can't shake the feeling...

Eh, whatever. Let's go see Spears!

 

* * *

 

On the off chance I wasn't going down memory lane hard enough yet, touring the empty hallways of the school really does me in. Despite how little time I've spent here, now it feels like there are memories jumping out at me from every corner. Some good, some bad, some worse.

I'm not all alone here, however. There are some faculty members coming and going, and I even walk by a student or two as well. Looks like I'm not the only one with special circumstances.

Makes sense, too, cause by definition they've got a whole school's worth of people here. I'm no special snowflake, so it's only to be expected. We've all got our own lives, with our own unique problems.

To get my mind off it all I visit my locker briefly, if only to confirm that the emergency hentai doujin I've hidden there are still, in fact, there.

And yep, they are. Cool. Now I know what I'll be doing this evening.

...

Making my way to Spears's office afterwards takes virtually no time. Though I sure wish it did. I'm not cut out for talking to people, and the principal is no exception.

Shit, he might just be an exception on the other end of the scale, someone I'm afraid to speak to at all, not even due to my... Um... Lack of social skills.

That motherfucker is intimidating even on a good day.

So as such first I simply listen in through the door, unsure if Spears is in there at all.

Should I have maybe called him in advance? Asked for a meeting? I feel really stupid, idling out here.

Stepping back I take a look around, but there's nothing here that would tell me if Spears is around or not. I don't know what I've expected though. Not like there'd be a big neon sign reading 'Come in, retard'.

Oh what the hell, I'll just knock. What's the worst that could happen? It's what a normal person would do anyway, isn't it?

Gotta learn to be normal once in my life...

*knock*

*knock*

*knock*

There's a few seconds' pause, then the familiar voice of Spears resonates through the air, almost shaking the door off its hinges.

[Spears]
"COME IN"

Wiggling a pinky in my ear to help the tinnitus go away, I enter the principal's office.

[Spears]
"What can I do for you?"

[Anon]
"Good afternoon, Sir!"

At first he doesn't look up from whatever document he's reading, only addressing me with mild interest. One curiosity glance is enough to change that, however.

[Spears]
"Ah, Mr. Mous!"

[Spears]
"Close the door, sit down."

I do as I'm told, then watch as Spears sets his papers aside to face me properly. He looks me up and down, from my brand-new off-brand hawaii-shirt to the same old pair of sneakers I've been wearing for half a decade now.

[Spears]
"So... Japan."

[Anon]
"Uh, yeah."

I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to that. Like, if I move away or not adds nothing to anything, as far as the school should be concerned.

...Right?

[Spears]
"Right. There's no problem."

[Spears]
"Just curious, is all."

Huh? Oh. I guess I still haven't gotten over the damn mumbling.

And I've been trying really hard, too.

[Anon]
"Right, umm..."

[Anon]
"It's like... Why not?"

Upon hearing my explanation Spears gives me the good ol' dead-eyes, but just as I'd really start squirming he shrugs, amused.

[Spears]
"You're still young, after all."

[Spears]
"With the education we've given you here, you should have no problem living up to their standards."

[Anon]
"Yeah... Cause... Like..."

[Anon]
"Education."

I'm extra careful to NOT mumble as I consider that I could probably count on one hand the number of times I've actually studied for class. Any class.

Spears probably wouldn't take kindly to that.

...

My phone buzzes in my pocket, which at first I take as my cue to get to the point.

But... Wait. Hold on.

[Anon]
"Er... What do you mean, live up to their standards?"

[Spears]
"Well, as you may know, Japanese firms and businesses expect the very best from their employees."

[Spears]
"That's, of course, true for any company in any part of the world. But over there you'll be expected to put your career first, to a degree I myself would call unethical."

Oh. That doesn't sound very good.

I mean, I knew about Japanese and their obsession with stuff, but I didn't realize that translates to jobs in the real world. I've never even questioned till now why Reeda and their family moved there.

Japan is a kickass country with kickass traditions, at least that's what I took away from all the media I've been consuming.

Not noticing my sudden discomfort, Spears continues his speech.

[Spears]
"Not many people around here know, but I've spent some of my academic years there."

[Spears]
"As a younger man, I've been... Fascinated with their culture, their ways of life."

[Anon]
"So... Why didn't you stay?"

[Anon]
"Uh, Sir."

[Spears]
"..."

[Spears]
"Let's suffice to say their idea of schooling didn't sit well with me."

[Spears]
"I prefer our students get an education that benefits their lives, and not their futures."

What? Those two are basically the same thing.

[Spears]
"No, Anon, they are not."

Fucking mumbling...

Still, I keep listening.

[Spears]
"For instance, a skill that might benefit you as a senior accountant won't necessarily help you become a senior accountant."

[Spears]
"And it certainly won't help you start a family."

[Spears]
"I find it's much more important we help you get started with your life, than helping out your future employer thirty years down the road."

He sighs, continuing in a softer tone.

[Spears]
"Soon you'll be an adult. And as such, no one will tell you how to live your life."

[Spears]
"You might think that's a good thing right now, but it means YOU'LL have to make the decisions. It's a big responsibility, one you probably can't fully understand yet."

[Spears]
"I will not tell you whether or not you should stay - or go."

[Spears]
"You'll have to make that call, and live with it for the rest of your days."

...Uh. Wow.

I'm speechless.

...

I mean, Spears IS right. It's a big commitment.

And if I fail to get a job, what then? I won't even have the money to come back home, once I'm forced out on the street.

Sure Reeda will be there, but... We don't even speak Japanese. And isn't that the bare minimum when you move to another country? To speak their language at least a little?

To be completely honest, for the first time, I'm frightened of the idea of moving abroad.

[Anon]
"Uh..."

[Anon]
"I'll uh, I'll make sure it's the right decision."

[Spears]
"Follow your heart, Mr. Mous. Follow your heart."

Once again, I don't know how to reply.

A few seconds pass in this relatively awkward stalemate, then, Spears turns back to the stacks of papers on his desk. He browses them for a little while, and passes me a dossier.

[Spears]
"Here you go."

[Spears]
"And next time, attend your own God-damned graduation."

[Anon]
"Right. Y-Yes."

[Anon]
"Sorry. Thank you."

[Anon]
"Sir."

Bonding-time's over then, I'm assuming.

I've actually expected a little more ceremony about all this, not that Spears would just hand me the papers and toss me outside. A handshake, maybe?

Whatever. Once again I awkwardly thank Spears for everything, then leave him be.

On my way out I get the doujins and the rest of my stuff from my locker, then it's straight back to Skinrow. Nothing else for me do to here, now.

Or ever again.

 

* * *

 

It's early evening as I arrive home.

And... Huh. Wait.

I mean... Home? Should I actually be calling this place home...? Like, where's my home supposed to be right now?

This place is the closest I've got to it, but then again all I have left to do here is prepare to leave. About three days is all I've got left to spend here, which is not quite so permanent as one would hope their home to be. Or even just some random dwelling.

And yet I couldn't very well call Japan my home - I wouldn't even have a place to sleep there if it wasn't for Reeda and her parents.

...

Putting aside my worries for the day I sit by my computer, looking for something to do.

My internet bills should be all paid up, so I could watch a movie or play some vidya, or maybe I could spend a few hours baiting newfags into pointless arguments. That latter one sounds especially inviting, because these past two weeks I've barely had time to browse my favorite online goatmilk manufactury forums, let alone do quality shitposting from my phone...

Oh right, my phone!

I've been so preoccupied savoring this new feeling of doom and gloom that I've forgotten about the notification I got while in Spears's office. It's probably a text from Reeda or something.

Whipping my phone out I go straight to messages, and yep, it's indeed Reeda reacting to my voicemail from earlier.

It's... A thumbs up emoji.

...

...

...

Well, I mean... We ARE technically in the middle of a fight... I just didn't think she'd be so distant. Guess she's not missing me yet.

Like, yeah alright, it's only been a day - or, uh, less than that actually -, but I do kinda miss her already. Meanwhile, she's probably off with her new friends, and... Geez. I really wish she didn't hang around those people. But what can I do? It's not like I can direct her life or anything.

I also wish we could have sorted things out before I left.

It's just... The topic came up pretty abruptly right as I was about to board my plane. We didn't have a lot of time to talk about it.

...

Christ. Whatever. I'll just send a thumbs up back.

And now I'm DOUBLY looking forward to shitposting. I need to get my mind off all this.

As if in agreement my stomach rumbles, reminding me that I should get something to eat as well.

Ever since I've arrived my insides have been all kinds of twisted up, probably due to some manner of jet-lag - combined with me stressing about stuff. Still, I cannot neglect my basic needs.

Most of the food stuff I have here have long been spoiled, bagging them will be a less-than-fun activity, but there are still some frozen TV dinners. Lasagne, most specifically. Reeda could put away an obscene amount of the stuff, so we've filled the freezer to the brim with it.

I pick one at random and shove it in the oven.

For a few minutes I watch it cook, but get bored of it fast, instead passing the time cleaning up the place. I'll have to do it anyway, don't want the landlord giving me shit about it.

My quote-unquote fastidiousness gets rewarded too, as I find not one but TWO untouched bottles of beer.

Nice.

Opening one immediately, I stumble back to my laptop. Let the shitposting commence!

Without thinking about it I move to cursor to close the audio editor, and it's not until I'm about to confirm the 'Do you want to discard unsaved changes?' dialogue that I notice something.

There's an extra track at the bottom. It's labeled, even, something I could never be bothered to do.

'HEAR ME'

What the fuck? Did someone hack my machine, or...?

Paranoid, I take another look around to make extra sure I'm alone in here.

...

I am.

Doors and windows closed.

No sign of entry other than the footprints, but they didn't pry the door open or anything malicious.

So... Could this be from the police? Some kinda warning?

Now that I think about it, however, Trish probably didn't press charges. I've never got summons or whatever they're called. Not as much a phone call.

But wait, how did she get the police to open the door for her then? Did she actually go to the landlord instead? How'd she know how to contact him?

Thoroughly weirded out and feeling like Neonderthal at the beginning of the movie Bouldrix I return to my desk, downing quite a few chugs of my beer to calm myself down.

It also occurs to me that I should have noticed this earlier. When I left here to go after Reeda, the last thing I had opened were the sites for plane schedules and for the local taxi services.

...

Alright, well, let's hear it.

[Voice #1]
"-ou think it's... ..od idea?"

The voice is muffled, so I can't immediately tell who the speaker is. Probably standing some ways from the laptop.

It's a girl's voice, though, and vaguely familiar.

[Voice #2]
"It's gonna be fine, Fang."

Okay, now that's definitely Trish. Her voice is much clearer. She was most likely sitting right where I'm sitting now.

So weird to think about it like that. It strengthens my timetravel theory a little, as if I was observing whatever happened here that I "skipped over".

Anyway, I turn my attention back to the recording, before I could miss anything. It's just static for a couple of seconds, then a third voice enters the fray.

[Voice #3]
"Hurry up! We shouldn't be here."

It's a male voice, and again, kinda familiar. Sounds like Fang's father.

That would probably explain how they got in.

[Fang]
"Yeah Trish, com... ...n! Yo... ...ady gone through his stuff."

What the-?! She did WHAT?!

Gee that's great... Triggers gonna trigg, I suppose.

But seriously, what the fuck?

[Trish]
"Okay! Okay!"

[Trish]
"So uh, you dumb monkey!"

[Trish]
"If you're hearing this, then I've got my phone back. No thanks to you."

[Fang]
"He... ...ow that."

[Trish]
"Yeah I know, he'll know."

[Trish]
"Will you let me do this or not?"

[Fang]
"..."

I'm not sure if Fang said anything there. But her father grumbles something, to which Trish responds with a frustrated sigh.

[Trish]
"Okay, spear chucker! Here's what you'll have to do to make amends."

Oh what, is this the part where she blackmails me? That's why she had gone through my laptop?

[Trish]
"On the 31st we'll be having a gig at Moe's in Little Troodon."

[Trish]
"You better be there!"

[Fang]
"...at?!"

[Fang]
"Trish you can't be serious!"

I think that's the first whole sentence I've heard Fang say. Her surprise is quite apparent, even through the recording.

[Trish]
"What? The least he can do is buy a ticket."

[Trish]
"We need the money."

...

Yeah, triggers gonna trigg.

[Ripley]
"That it?"

[Trish]
"Um, yeah."

[Trish]
"Now help me edit it, I wanna cut the part where SOMEONE said out loud that I went through his nerd shit."

[Fang]
"...ou did."

[Trish]
"Yeah I KNOW I DID! So are you gonna help or not?"

[Fang]
"...ah, yeah."

The rest is mostly just noise as the three of them were fumbling around with the keyboard, trying to stop the recording and stuff.

So... That was interesting.

I don't know when they recorded it, but I'm guessing that I've missed their concert. Which is probably for the best.

Or, wait. What did she say? The 31st?

It's the 28th today.

So the 31st, that would be... This Sunday.

And, well... I did want to apologize to Trish.

I've only got a few bucks to my name, but I suppose I can spare them a ticket. Shouldn't be that expensive to listen to fucking VVurm Drama. They weren't exactly the best even when Reeda was still in the band, so now if they literally only have two bass guitars going, it's gonna be even worse.

How did they land a gig in the first place?

Eh, doesn't matter. I might as well go. With some luck I could even talk with Fang there, too.

While there's been no drama about our breakup, we've never really smoothed things over either. We just pretty much stopped talking, altogether. And if I'm gonna move away, this could be our last chance to have a heart-to-heart.

There's still some time till the 31st, though. Two whole days, to be exact.

Originally I wanted to spend a day here just chilling, but now I better spend those two days on my roundtrip to Rock Bottom. Though I don't want to bother my parents this late, so I'll just have to call them early tomorrow.

And I'm soooo NOT looking forward to that.

...

I spend the rest of the evening drinking beer, devouring the lasagna, and shitposting. Very briefly I consider calling Reeda too, but...

She didn't call me either.

I know being stubborn will only make things worse, but fuck it. I'm in the right, and she's not.

So as such I settle into bed with the doujin I've rescued from my locker, and prepare to spend some quality neet time.

 

* * *

 

[Anon]
"Heeyyyyy Daaaaad!"

[Anon]
"Soooo, I'm--"

[Anon]
"GUH!"

Jesus R. Christ I knew roads back here weren't all that maintaned but did we just run over a dead body or something?

I hate buses.

...

So... Yeah.

I've figured it'll be easier if I Mom and Dad them I'm already on my way. Less chances for my loving parents to come up with excuses.

I had it all planned out in my head, like those times I would perpare to order takeaway. I'd be totally cool, tell 'em how it is and maybe chit-chat a little.

I've even checked the news - local, statewide, national, and even international -, on the off chance something would come up, so I could appear mature and up with it. Like as if I was totally normal?

But this last bump got me all out of rhythm.

[Anon]
"Uhh... So I was saying I'm uh..."

[Anon]
"I'm on my wayyy..."

[Anon]
"...baaaaccckkkk hooommmmmmmmmeee!"

No idea why I'm talking in this retard accent. I'm just kinda afraid to speak the words? It's been so long since I've talked to either of my parents, it's just... I'm afraid I'll disappoint them.

Even though, well, I'm technically not speaking to them yet. It's another answering machine.

What's up with people and not picking up their damn phones today?

Reeda I could kind of understand. KIND OF. But Dad is usually reasonably social.

I mean not with me per se, but in general.

Could it be that news of my escapades have already reached them? Did Spears tell them, or was it the police after all, or...?

...

Whatever. That doesn't even matter right now. What I'm most anxious about is that... Ugh...

I mean, yeah, I'm ready for a scolding about throwing money out the window for that plane ticket. I knew that was stupid. But what will they think about my newest girlfriend? Not to imply they cared, or even knew about, the first one.

Hope they won't like, disown me or anything for muddying our precious bloodline playing patty-cakes with a dino.

And not just any dino either, because Reeda is uh...

She's a junkie. There's just no better way to put it.

Not even the lmao-dude-weed kind, but the honest to God sucked-dick-for-drugs kind.

I mean she's smart and fun to hang with, and she's attractive, and I know that. But... Yeah. It's... Bad.

Suddenly realizing that I'm still on the phone I clear my throat, trying to come up with something halfway intelligent to say.

[Anon]
"I should be arriving in like... Five hours?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"I-I mean, five hours from uh... Now. It-It's three in the afternoon."

[Anon]
"Three in the aft-Like, uh, not when I'm-- I mean 'now' as in... 'Now' now."

[Anon]
"So I'll uhh, arrive at like, eight? PM? So... That's--That's five hours."

[Anon]
"And not, like five hours from when you hear this."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"C-Cause, you know, I can't like, k-know when you'll hear this."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"I-I mean I'm n-not saying that uh... You deliberately WON'T listen to this, c-cause..."

[Anon]
"Uh..."

[Anon]
"Like, I ummmm... I know you're my parents and uh..."

[Anon]
"C-Cause..."

[???]
"Christ son, give up!"

[Anon]
"Huh? Dad?"

At first I think an actual reply came from the other end of the line, as if the whole "leave your message after the beep" think was a fake.

But no, it's some elderly fellow sitting a few rows from me, giving me a look of pity so hard I almost literally melt into the seat.

Shit. Guess I've been a little too loud.

I turn away beet red in embarrassment, acting like I was simply looking out the window.

Y-Yeah... I'm normal... Just having a conversation here! Haha!

...

[Anon]
"R-Right..."

[Anon]
"So that's... Eight o'clock."

[Anon]
"Buh-b-bye!"

With a click I end the call.

It's actually not even one click, because my shaking, sweaty hands keep slipping all over the screen. And wow... That couldn't have gone ANY WORSE.

Way to prove to my parents that I've grown into a responsible adult like they hoped I would. Cause like... A responsible adult is totally what I am.

I'm not a nervous-wreck. Not at all.

...

I turn to the guy who called out to me, to apologize, but he's already back to whatever it is he was doing beforehand. I consider yelling sorry at him just so he'll know I wasn't being a retard on purpose, but something tells me that's not how you show you're NOT a retard.

Sheesh.

...

Uh. Wait.

Fuck!

FUCK

I forgot to say that I wanna spend the night.

Forgot to say what I wanna talk with them about too.

I'll just call 'em again real quick, and... Er...

I... Should call them... Right? Or would that just make it even more pathetic?

...

Fucking hell, I've gone toe-to-toe with some musclehead drug dealer, and yet here I am, afraid of talking to my own parents.

So... Fine. I'll make this one snappy, and not autistic at all. I'll be normal. Soooo normal.

[Anon]
"Hey, me again! I just forgot to--"

[Answering machine]
"This is the Mous residence. State your business after the beep."

*BEEP*

...

[Anon]
"Um, yeah, so..."

[Anon]
"It's me again, cause, uh..."

Fuck. The only thing fast about this is how fast it's going south. Pull yourself together, man!

[Anon]
"I want to talk to you about my future."

[Anon]
"Bye!"

*click*

Hope that wasn't like, too cold or anything. Why is it so hard to talk to people?

...

For the rest of the ride I steer clear of any conversation or phone call. Instead I download a bunch of random games in hopes that they'll serve ample distractions from my nervousness.

They keep me entertained for a while, but by the last two hours or so I can barely keep my eyes open.

I knew that sooner or later I would have fallen asleep, this is a long fucking ride. So I settle in as much as I can - this isn't some luxury seat after all -, and let the drowsy feelings wash over me.

 

* * *

 

No welcoming committee.

And... Okay. That fine. Totally normal.

Maybe they didn't get the call? Was it a wrong number? Or maybe they did get it and that's exactly why they didn't come?

Which would be worse, even?

...

For the second time in two days, I'm standing outside a major traffic hub. Except unlike with the airport at Volcaderra Bluffs, this time I'm the only one out here.

Well that's not wholly correct, there are a few gangs of various age groups littering the bus stops, and then there are the occasional homeless strewn about. But there are no passengers, besides me.

Not that much of a surprise, though. It's well in the evening, and while Rock Bottom IS one of the larger human-only settlements left in the state, it couldn't be called a big city. Not by far.

It's the kind of place you don't leave only if you seriously can't.

Younger generations have all flocked to other parts of the nation, leaving only the old and stubborn behind. Or, I guess there are those like my very own family, people who just don't seem to notice all the problems around them.

Although I could hardly blame them for it or anything. If I didn't have to transfer elsewhere, would I have ever wanted to leave? I suppose when you have no ambitions, here or there really doesn't matter. When I look at it like that, moving to Japan should be considered a huge success.

I sure hope Mom and Dad will see it that way too, and that they won't think I'm only here for their money. Even though that's... Pretty much why I'm here.

I mean, I'm here for their support? Mainly? It just has to come in monetary form right now.

...

Whatever.

It's not that big of a deal that they didn't come to see me, I don't feel entitled to it. And not like I would have any bags with me either. Other than the necessities - and a thick layer of sweat accumulated during the ride -, the only thing on me is an ice-pack.

Back when I was moving away I wanted to bring my bottle of teriyaki sauce that came with a collectors edition of a cooking themed anime I got off Amazonian. It was only after, that I realized I didn't even need the ice-pack to transport it, cause I've been keeping it shelved at room temperature all this time.

Besides, it got hauled over with the rest of my furniture anyway. And I doubt the moving guys really cared for a random bottle of sauce.

I just felt like I should return it, is all.

...

Right, let's get going then. If they weren't here by now, then Mom and Dad simply aren't coming.

Mechanically putting one foot in front of the other, I turn to a side path by the river that runs through this part of town.

Everyone calls it "the river", but in reality it's little more than a near-empty canal. Eighty percent of which have been covered up, hidden under buildings, roads, and parking lots. Were I to stand in the deepest part, the water would barely come up to my knees. In most parts, it would be level right around my ankles.

Still, this 200 meter stretch of "the river" spanning between the central bus station and Main street is the one place in town you can still see the water and all the greenery around it. They don't even bother to cut the grass or anything, only once every half year or so.

After such a long ride, crowned by the restless nap I've had, the lukewarm evening air puts me in quite the nostalgic mood. So rather than focusing on the here and now, I instead find myself recalling all sorts of memories from my childhood.

Back when I was little, and when "the river" could actually be called a river, kids often came down here to play. The 5-story apartment buildings that tower over me now have just been built then, with barely anyone living in the neighborhood. Most folks were over and around the mill and by the church, so it was an everyone-knows-everyone sorta deal in these parts.

The bus station and surrounding infrastructure are all considered the "new" parts of town, even to this day - some twelve years after the fact. I can't remember much, but I do remember all the billboards. "Live in the future", and all that early 2000s slang and techno mumbo-jumbo.

Actually, climbing those billboards used to be a popular pastime, something to challenge all your friends to do.

Not that, of course, anyone dared me to do anything. I've only really watched the other kids play from afar, from "the bridges" - makeshift scaffolding around various constructions -, way too afraid to join.

I've learned to be afraid from experience as well.

...

Picking up the pace I leave the riverbend behind, arriving at the far end of the yard by my old elementary school.

Part of the path kids - even highschoolers - take going to the bus station after school cuts through here. There should be a loose bar in the metal fence.

Aaaaaaanddd... Yup, there it is.

Yeah, I would have been amazed if they fixed that while I was away.

Even with all the construction around, nobody here really cared about maintaining stuff. Rather, all the adults seemed to have this "if it ain't broke" mentality when it came to... Well... Anything, pretty much.

A new shortcut to get to the bus stop? Don't mind if I do! Why, that's five minutes of time not spent walking around it!

That seemed to be their thinking process.

So, as if this was the most natural thing in the world to do, I slip through the fence, leisurely strolling across the empty basketball field.

On the other side I can already see part of the church's roof, and behind that I know there's an ice-cream parlor that had been closed since forever now. That's where I'll have to take a left turn onto another street.

I still largely remember the layout of this place, it should be no problem to find my way... Um... Home...?

Once again, I'm hit by the idea that I'm not exactly sure where my home really is.

I mean, I know exactly where the building itself is. But what should I be calling it?

The place where my parents live? The place where I used to live? Or... Home?

I grew up here, after all. Seventeen and a half of my years I've spent in Rock Bottom. I know this place like the back of my hand. My family lives here, and have lived here for generations.

Still there's this sense of detachment that's hard to put into words...

Back on the bus, I've actually considered messaging Reeda about this. Not about me wanting to move back here - I don't -, but about this feeling I've got that I don't know where in the world I belong.

I'm sure she would have loved my hazy philosophical ramblings too, deep like lyrics of a Linking Park song.

In the end, though, I've decided against it.

But fight or no fight, I'm really starting to miss talking to Reeda. And just being around her in general.

Even if I'm not even sure what I should say to her anymore.

The longer the silence between us stretches, the more I feel like she's expecting me to apologize. And that makes me want to do it even less. It should be HER JOB to try and patch up the wound.

But still it's pretty tough, not being able to hear her voice. Especially after having spent two weeks barely climbing out of eachothers' asses for even a second.

Double especially as I realize that while I've been on auto-pilot, my feet took me to a very peculiar street. Not MY street, but the very next one.

I'm one corner away from ho--

From the place where--

From... From that place.

...

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

AS the anxiety I've been feeling on the bus returns in full force, dropping spaghetti is starting to seem like a best case scenario.

Is it too late for me to turn back? To tell them that I've missed my bus? Like, the one I was already on, and every subsequent one too?

What'd that achieve anyway?

Dad would call me a coward, and then they sure as fuck wouldn't EVER want to consider lending me money. That'd be the end of my dreams with Reeda.

Maybe I'm angry at her now, but I'm not SO angry that I would never want to see her again. So no, I can't just turn away.

What was it Spears said? That I'll be an adult soon?

Yeah. No one will make my decisions for me, and no one will unfuck my life for me either. If I fail, that'll be on me.

Which I guess that leaves me with one option.

Get moving, go home, face my parents, face Dad, tell him what for, and come out on top. That's what Reeda would tell me to do anyway, isn't it?

Well no, she'd also tell me that I can do it. And I will!

Here's to you, imaginary raptor gee eff!

Time to not be a fucking retard!

 

* * *

 

*ding-dong*

Even though I have my own key to the place - because I live here -, I figured it'd be better to ring the bell. On the off chance Mom and Dad didn't get my message, I wouldn't want to surprise them or anything. To inconvenience them by doing something any child of any parent could.

As the seconds pass - and as my former grit gives place to renewed nervousness -, I keep trying to steal a glance through the windows. The lights are on, but I don't see any obvious sign that anyone would be home.

But then again, where else would they be...?

Mom and Dad have never been the "let's go out" types. In fact they seemed completely fine spending every day inside, binging series and doing whatever on their computers and phones.

No wonder I've turned out the way I did.

...

A full minute must have passed by now. What's going on?

*ding-dong*

I right the bell again, to much the same conclusion.

Uhhh... Okay? So they're not home?

Well... I mean... That's kinda shady. With a decent amount of foreboding.

I guess then I'll just use my keys?

...

I stand around for quite some time still, nervously hopping from one foot to the other, eyes constantly darting up and down the street to make sure nobody sees me.

Albeit my keys are already in my hand, I can't bring myself to actually use them. Feels like I'm about to break into the damn place.

...

This is so stupid. Should I just try calling them again?

...

I'm already reaching for my phone as I realize... I probably find it so hard to move forward, because this is my very last chance to back away.

They don't know I'm here yet. Or if they do, they'd rather I wasn't. If I leave now, we can all pretend this didn't happen.

...

AHH! Just why am I so nervous?!

Other than the last half year, I've seen these people daily! They're my parents!

And... Yeah. That's just it.

They're my parents. And yet they've sent me away. They said it's either this, or the navy - there was no scenario where I stayed.

They've made it real clear they don't want me here. That they want nothing from me. That that they just wanted to get rid of me.

Not a single fucking time have they called. Not to check in on me, not to ask about how I'm settling in, if I've made any friends... Nothing.

Even now... There's basically no way they haven't heard my call yet. They KNOW.

And still...

...

Maybe it really was a bad idea to come here.

On paper, sure, what could I lose? Either they help me, or I'm back to where I've started. It should be win-win scenario.

Plus we can always find our own way with Reeda. We don't NEED to depend on anyone else. But...

God dammit they're MY PARENTS!

I want them to know about me! I want to show them that I've made it! That I'm not the loser they think I am!

I want to prove I'm not a disappointment! Not some black sheep!

I know... I know I've never made any friends here, and that my life has been a continuous trainwreck, to the shame of everyone around me. Mom and Dad most of all. I know very well why people would go out of their way not to associate with me. I know why the only things I have ever received were bullying and rejection.

Who would want to have a friend, a son, like THAT?!

...

Except...

I have a girlfriend now! It's IMPOSSIBLE to say that I'm just some write-off failure! Because out there, far, far away in Japan, someone LOVES ME!

Someone WANTS me around!

Me!

...!

That's it!

I'm not gonna let them think I'm a loser, not any longer.

I'm going in.

 

* * *

 

If I pretend hard enough, I can almost feel Reeda's giant dino-hand wrapping around mine; I can almost hear her whisper into my ear, urging me to go on; and I can just almost feel the feathers of that fluffy tail teasingly brushing against the bare skin on the back of my neck.

Hey, even if I've gone mad with the stress, at least the voices I'm hearing are pleasant. I've had worse hallucinations than this, really.

It gives me the courage to push onward.

[Anon]
"...Mom? ...Dad?"

I call out, near the exact same manner people would ask "Who's there?" from the darkness in a horror movie. Cautious. Anxious. Afraid that someone will answer.

And indeed, from the lit-up part of the house - the living room - I can hear an inquisitive grunt, and a chair scraping against the wooden floor. It's gotta be Dad.

This is it!

I brace myself for impact, then with one last relatively stable lurch forward, I step through the doorframe and into the light.

...

He's just the way I've remembered him. Lean and tall and handsome. Despite his height - he's got good four inches on me -, one couldn't call him lanky or dangly, though. Certainly not athletic either, but still, well built. Manly.

Complimenting his appearance is the dark, near pitch black business suit he was always wearing, complete with a white shirt and bright red tie. Neatly buttoned up, spotless. Serious. Demanding respect.

It's one of those classic looks that either suits the person in his entirety, or if not, then there'd be no amount of legwork that could fix not coming across as a tryhard and a laughing stock.

In Dad's case, it was definitely the former.

He's this picture-perfect copy of a savvy con-man or a tenacious businessman, as have always been, and frighteningly charismatic.

The sole slight blemish I could perhaps chalk up to his otherwise impeccable image was his baldness. Same as me, not a single strand of hair on his cue-ball head. And yet, somehow he could pull even that off, as opposed to me simply living with this curse.

The room around us definitely looks like the kind of place a man like that would live in. Equally elegant, equally classy. Wooden everything, red carpeting. A fireplace. Trophies on the walls and shelves. Both the hunting kind, and from golf tournaments and what have you.

Looking at them makes me cringe, however. Because I know none of them actually belong to the man I see before me. Oh no.

Hunting? Sports? And Dad? Even the insinuation is comical. The most hunting he would do is to hunt for leftover snacks between the cushions. There's no week-old crusty pizza topping that would be below him.

For all the care he puts into his appearance, he's one of the laziest, slobbiest, conversely most judgmental, harsh, and simply all-around-worst people I know. It's all about vanity with him. King Nothing is still a king, I suppose.

And yet, he's the man little old me came here to impress today.

[Anon]
"Hi... Dad..."

He flinches upon hearing my voice, it solidifying my presence in the physical realm.

I'm not exactly sure what kind of reaction I was expecting, but the exasperated, tired, and blatantly frank annoyed sigh definitely wasn't it. As if I couldn't even do this one thing right. ...Whatever that one thing may be, inside his mind.

So, yeah. Two words in, and already I'm being handled as the colossal fuckup everyone thinks I am.

...

Frustrated and rubbing his temples, Dad finally addresses me.

[Dad]
"If you're gonna come see us, you could have at least called."

[Dad]
"What if we weren't home? Common sense, son, ever heard of it?"

Wait, what?

[Anon]
"B-But I did call!"

[Anon]
"Twice!"

[Anon]
"Can't help it if you're too lazy to hear it!"

[Anon]
"It's all there on the fucking answering machine."

It's only after I have spoken the words do I realize how disrespectful my outburst was.

As soon as I do, though, I'm already afraid. Afraid that I've fucked it all up. This is no way a son talks to his own father.

Unclenching my fists and letting out the air I didn't even notice I was holding, immediately I seek to fix it, to apologize.

[Anon]
"I-I didn't mean--"

[Dad]
"Oh yeah?"

[Dad]
"Well then let's hear it."

His bluntness takes me aback.

There's no way on Earth Dad would look the other way if I dropped the F-bomb. Or if I called him lazy... But now he doesn't seem to care.

I'm so caught off-guard that I lag behind. By the time I'm able to move my body, Dad's already halfway across the room. Though at least this way I can see the bottle of whatever he's been drinking - so far his body has been blocking the view.

Makes me feel kinda weird.

I mean, sure, alcohol is nothing new to me, but... If he didn't even know I was coming, what's the occasion?

...For drinking alone?

[Anon]
"Umm..."

[Anon]
"Wh-Where's Mom?"

He either doesn't hear my question, or just simply ignores it.

Instead, he makes his way to the answering machine on the kitchen counter, and without as much as a second's pause, he presses play.

The background noise from the bus fills our eardrums, followed by my voice as I stumbled to get even a single sentence across.

[Anon on the recording]
"Heeyyyyy Daaaaad!"

He gives me a look, mildly amused that I was actually telling the truth.

I'm about to say something, but past-me from the tape cuts me off.

[Anon on the recording]
"Soooo, I'm--"

[Anon on the recording]
"GUH!"

Oh yeah, that must have been the large bump that ruined everything. Now comes like a five-minute long pause till I remembered I was on the phone.

[Anon on the recording]
"..."

Huh? Wait...

[Anon on the recording]
"...betollycool... ...tellemo it is n... ...cheet-chaat..."

Oh.

My. God.

Is that...? Is that me mumbling?

Wow.

That's so damn fucking embarrassing. I hope I'm not doing it RIGHT NOW, at least.

I try stealing a glance at Dad, but he's already looking back at me with this shit-eating grin.

...Fuck.

...

For the next couple minutes I decide my time is better served examining my shoes.

[Anon on the recording]
"...dislasbumm gatme... ...out'o'rhmm..."

Raptor Jesus in the sky and all that is holy... Just... How fucking long does it go on?

[Anon on the recording]
"Uhh... So I was saying I'm uh..."

[Anon on the recording]
"I'm on my wayyy..."

[Anon on the recording]
"...baaaaccckkkk hooommmmmmmmmeee!"

Wow. Okay. Maybe the mumbling WAS better.

Why did I insist on this accent again? Makes me sound like I got Down's or something.

[Anon on the recording]
"...m'fraid I'll... ...point'm..."

[Anon on the recording]
"..."

[Anon on the recording]
"Reea I colkinna undersand... ...KINNA..."

Reea? Er, did I say something about...?

...

Wait. Wait...

...

FUCK

OH NO

The next this I thought about back there! It was--!

[Anon on the recording]
"...dinkabootmeh... ...gaurrfrenn..."

[Anon on the recording]
"...deesoon me'r... ...muddeeng... ...blaudleen... ...whiddadeeno..."

[Anon on the recording]
"...eeveen d'lamayyo... ...soock deeck..."

[Anon on the recording]
"...sheessmard'n'funn'n'addtacdivv'n..."

...

I think my brain has essentially flatlined. I can't fucking handle this.

[Dad]
"Damn son."

[Dad]
"She got you bad."

[Anon]
"..."

[Dad]
"What button do I press to skip to the part where you're done verbally fellating her?"

[Anon]
"..."

Thank fuck the recording picks up again, because I couldn't force even a single fucking syllable out right now.

[Anon on the recording]
"I should be arriving in like... Five hours?"

[Anon on the recording]
"..."

[Anon on the recording]
"I-I mean, five hours from uh... Now. It-It's--"

For the rest, I tune out. It takes considerable effort to just not fucking black out - but that's the limit of my abilities.

Cause yeah... This definitely wasn't fucking how I envisioned letting Dad know about Reeda. I mean, I haven't envisioned anything whatsoever, but mumbling like a retard through an answering machine wasn't it either.

...

Oh God, if I could just vanish into thin air right about now... Or turn invisible, or teleport...

Or if I could reverse time or something.

...

I only notice that the recording has ended as Dad speaks up again.

[Dad]
"Sit."

[Anon]
"Whuh?"

He's back at the table, sitting where he presumably was sitting before I barged in. Right now he's motioning at the seat across his, waiting on me to sit my retarded ass the fuck down.

And I do so.

Not like there's anything better I could be doing.

...

No sooner than my asscheeks making contact with the chair is a glass put in front of me. A drinking glass.

[Anon]
"Uh."

I watch Dad pour himself a glass full of something - whiskey or rum going by the color alone -, but as he moves the bottle over to my glass, I protest. On instinct, more than anything.

[Anon]
"Dad, I'm like, not even twenty."

[Dad]
"So?"

[Anon]
"S-So... Ummmmmm..."

Is this a test?

I'd bet a million dollars he wants to turn this around somehow, to show me what a shithead kid I am. Maybe it would be that if I'm leeching off his booze, then naturally, I came to leech off his money too?

[Dad]
"I send you to the west coast, among all those liberals and hedonists, and you couldn't even grow the balls to snag a beer or something?"

[Dad]
"So what, did you spend every single day alone in your room like a--"

[Anon]
"Whiskey. Neat. Not on the rocks."

Fuck you too, Dad.

I don't even know what gave him the bigger pause. Me interrupting him mid-rant, or the fact that I know some bar terminology.

It's something I've picked up on our dates with Reeda. She insisted that we learn bar etiquette, so we could pretend to be classy.

In any case, Dad wordlessly produces another fancy-schmancy decanter from one of the many cupboards around the room, and pours me my drink - exactly the way I've asked for it.

Once he's done he returns to his seat and raises his own glass towards me.

I hesitate, expecting another trick, but eventually do clink glasses with him.

This... Is definitely an unexpected turn after the nightmare that tape was.

[Dad]
"Are you gonna just look at it?"

[Anon]
"Huh?"

Oh. Right. The drink. People usually drink their drinks.

...And man, this is fucking tasty! A bit harsh, but I can definitely feel the smokey kick it's got going on. It's so good in fact, that I scramble to take another sip.

But wait, shit. Dad's looking straight at me.

Uh... Maybe I should compliment his whiskey? Is that a thing people do?

[Anon]
"It's um, it's good."

He doesn't answer, instead downing his own drink all in one go. Then right after, he pours himself another.

Which is... Uh. Okay.

[Dad]
"So, you have a girlfriend now? Did I hear that correctly?"

DON'T PANIC NOW

DEFCON LEVELS SLIGHTLY ELEVATED BUT DEFINITELY NOT RAISED

[Anon]
"Y-Yeah?"

[Anon]
"Her n-name is, uh, Reeda."

[Dad]
"And she's a dino?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Yeah."

This time, it's my turn to gulp down my drink. It's very hard not to panic. Even though things are kept terrifyingly civil.

Or maybe that's what frightens me? I was ready for Dad to shout my head off, to throw me out and be done with it. But he's... Interested? In me? And my relationship? With a dino?

What's his angle? Cause I mean... Even HE couldn't be low enough to want to scare or seduce Reeda away from me.

...Right?

...

Still chewing through the information insofar discussed, Dad pours me another round of the good stuff. I didn't even need to ask.

Probably thinking about his next question, he inspects the glass in his hand, playing around with the liquid inside.

Then, his demeanor turns to amused disbelief, laughing as he continues his little interrogation.

[Dad]
"And uh, she gave you the ol'...?"

Still laughing, he acts out a blowjob midair. Complete with fondling imaginary balls.

Wow.

Dad.

I really didn't need to see that.

[Dad]
"Did I hear that right?"

[Dad]
"Can't always make out your--"

[Anon]
"It's not-- I mean--"

[Anon]
"I wasn't talking about my--"

[Dad]
"No?"

[Dad]
"So what, you watched her blow someone else, or...?"

[Anon]
"No, it--"

[Dad]
"Is that why you always play your porn games too, cause you just like to watch?"

Fucking Hell, how did we land on this topic again? What the fuck are we even talking about?

[Dad]
"Hey, I mean, if that's what--"

[Anon]
"Geez Dad, shut up about it!"

[Anon]
"She sucked off some stego for drugs!"

 

* * *

 

[Anon]
"I think it's the longest conversation Dad and I had in, uh, years?"

[Anon]
"It WAS, anyway..."

[Reeda]
"That must have been nice."

[Anon]
"Nice. Sure. For all of what, the ten minutes while it lasted?"

[Anon]
"God, I'm such a retard..."

[Reeda]
"So like, what, dude just left like *snap* out of the blue?"

[Anon]
"Yeah, just like that."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Well, no, actually."

[Anon]
"He looked..."

[Anon]
"I dunno? Uh..."

[Reeda]
"Disappointed?"

[Anon]
"Yeah."

[Anon]
"I mean, no. It was like..."

[Anon]
"He looked angry."

[Reeda]
"But he didn't say why?"

[Anon]
"No..."

[Reeda]
"Shit. That sucks."

[Anon]
"Yeah."

[Reeda]
"..."

[Reeda]
"Sooo, what did you two talk about?"

[Anon]
"Uhhh..."

Right. She doesn't know the specifics. Not yet.

After I all but blurted out, with the least possible amount of tact about it, how Reeda... Well... After I blurted THAT out, Dad just...

Let's suffice it to say that the atmosphere around the table, slowly warming up like we were to one another, turned into nuclear winter in an instant.

At first I didn't even understand why he suddenly stopped talking. Like, I did just tell him to shut up, but I didn't think he'd actually do it.

And then it hit me. Like... Yeah. Panic combined with embarrassment combined with jet-lag combined with an autist? It's a miracle I lasted as long as I did, and haven't fucked it up way earlier.

I should have been happy he didn't hear my message. If he didn't, all of this could have been avoided. But how could I have known?

...

Either way, after that little incident I've escaped up here, to the safety of my old room.

I've expected it to be turned into a storage or something, but it wasn't. To much of my surprise, it's been left basically untouched - not unkept, though.

There was no trash, no cobwebs, no layer of dust covering it all...

And by all, I mostly mean emptiness. The vast majority of my furniture has been shipped off to Volcaderra Bluffs, like I was. So with no laptop and no XRox, there wasn't much I could do.

There wasn't really much I would have wanted to do, anyway. I felt pretty depressed.

All the fuss and headache about coming here, all those peptalks I had to give myself, all the preparation and soul-steeling... And to fuck it up with something like THAT? When everything was going so well?

There is no justice...

[Reeda]
"Babe?"

Huh?

Oh right, I was spacing out. Again.

Man, I'm just a fucking spaz today.

[Anon]
"I-I'm here! I'm uh..."

[Anon]
"I have s-something to tell you. I think."

[Anon]
"Um, so--"

[Reeda]
"I got it. It's fine."

[Anon]
"Huh? But--"

[Reeda]
"You were mumbling just now."

...Really? Again?

There must be something seriously wrong with me.

That's it, I'll just fucking kill myself and save everyone the trouble.

[Reeda]
"Please don't do that."

OH COME ON

...

*sigh*

[Anon]
"Yeah. Sorry."

[Reeda]
"It's okay babe, I know you can't control it."

[Anon]
"No, I mean, about the thing with Dad."

[Reeda]
"Whuh?"

[Anon]
"W-Well..."

[Anon]
"Wait. What?"

[Reeda]
"What what?"

[Anon]
"What do you mean what what?"

[Reeda]
"No, what do YOU mean what do I mean?"

[Anon]
"I--"

[Anon]
"Look, I just... I thought you don't want people to know."

[Reeda]
"That I'm a dino? Dude."

[Anon]
"What?"

[Reeda]
"What what?"

[Anon]
"What do you-- No. Stop."

[Anon]
"Time out."

This conversation is getting out of hand.

It's actually not all that different from our usual interactions, except neither of us is high this time. I don't think, at least.

To prevent another social disaster I literally put a hand over my mouth, so even if I start mumbling again Reeda won't be able to hear it.

...

Okay... So clearly, she didn't get it.

Right now, Reeda must be thinking that I've told Dad she's a dino, and then he got mad. Which is, granted, what I thought was gonna happen too. But...

Sheesh... How do I tell her? I have to say SOMETHING.

[Anon]
"Right, so..."

[Anon]
"I DID tell him that you're a dino."

[Reeda]
"...And then he got mad, right?"

[Anon]
"Nnnnot exactly, no."

[Anon]
"It's... Uhhhhh..."

[Anon]
"Promise you won't get mad?"

[Reeda]
"Bro how could I make that promise, if like, I don't even know what I can't get mad about?"

[Reeda]
"Like... It's totes unfair to ask me that."

[Reeda]
"I hate people who do this shit."

[Anon]
"Er..."

That's... Shit. In all honesty, I have no idea what to say to that.

Something I feel like I'm getting a lot, lately...

Whatever. I just don't want Reeda to get mad at me again.

I mean technically we're still in middle of a fight here, which means she might be angry at me as we speak. I only asked for a truce because I was losing it over how much of a failure I am.

But uh... Yeah. Fine. I guess I owe her the truth.

I'm just about to open my mouth and start this tirade as I hear an annoyed sigh from the other end of the line.

[Reeda]
"Geez, okay. I promise."

Huh...?

[Anon]
"R-Really?"

[Reeda]
"Yeah, really."

[Reeda]
"So you can just... Say it."

[Anon]
"O-Okay."

[Anon]
"I umm..."

[Anon]
"I have told Dad that-- ACCIDENTALLY. Told Dad that..."

[Anon]
"Yyyyoooouuuuu havesuckeddickfordrugs."

...

...

...

[Anon]
"Reeda?"

...

...

[Reeda]
"I gotta go."

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK

ENGAGE ALL DAMAGE CONTROL MEASURES

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

UPSET RAPTOR GEE EFF IN BOUND

I REPEAT UPSET RAPTOR GEE EFF IN BOUND

[Anon]
"I-I didn't do it on purpose! I swear!"

[Anon]
"He like, pressured me into it!"

[Anon]
"I would never--!"

[Reeda]
"Browski, I have to go help my mom with something. For real."

[Anon]
"I-- Uh-- Y-Your mom?"

[Reeda]
"Yeah."

[Anon]
"So you're not angry?"

[Reeda]
"..."

[Reeda]
"I'll tell her you said hi."

[Anon]
"Umm... Y-Yeah... Okay..."

[Reeda]
"..."

[Reeda]
"Hey you know what?"

[Anon]
"W-What?"

[Reeda]
"Tomorrow I'll be doing something awesomely cool."

[Reeda]
"I'll tell you all about it, okay?"

[Anon]
"Umm... Sure..."

[Reeda]
"Keep it together, Anonman."

[Anon]
"...Y-Yeah! I will!"

[Anon]
"Bye!"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Love-"

*click*

[Anon]
"-you!"

[Anon]
"..."

I'm really not cut out for talking to people today.

Not like I'm cut out for it ANY day, but... Today especially.

...

I put the phone down on the nightstand and stretch. As its light drowns out I'm left in the darkness, only pierced by the fading light coming from the windows.

I didn't feel like bothering with the lights or blinds, cause I was sure I would be fast asleep in a matter of minutes anyway. Plus there's a cool breeze coming from outside. It was only then that I decided to try and call Reeda, so maybe there'd be one single thing I could feel happy about today.

It uh... Kinda worked. I got to hear her voice, at least.

As of right now, I'm resting on the empty bedframe left in the room. It's not the most comfortable way to spend a night, but the only viable alternatives were the floor, or downstairs on the couch.

I'm not too fond of the idea of accidentally bumping into Dad again, and the floor didn't look particularly welcoming either, so, bed it is.

I look up at clock on the opposite wall. Just like the rest of the room, it's clearly been cared for while I was away. Not only kept up with daylight saving time and with full batteries, but I can distinctly remember that with passing each week, the stupid thing would be late one additional minute.

I'm way too lazy-slash-tired to calculate how large a difference that should be after half a year. Not that it matters anyway, because it's only about three minutes late now. Whoever kept setting it back would have probably came by this weekend to fix it. Which would mean they most likely did so at the end of every month.

I suspect Mom to be the likely culprit. ...Where IS she, anyway?

I sit up, suddenly feeling anxious again.

It's around ten PM now. She could legit be out at a social event or something, it's not impossible, but... It doesn't feel right.

Could it have to do with Dad drinking by himself? Did something happen to Mom? If it was something serious, then surely, I would have been told about it by now.

...Right?

Although, to be honest, with what an asshole he was today, I could totally see Dad not bothering to even call me. I really do get the feeling that he was glad to cut me out of his life. That he hoped the problem that is me would just go away, disappear.

But... Then again he did sit me down for a talk, gave me that drink. He wasn't a hundred-percent-asshole like he used to be. Just ninety-nine percent.

What's that mean though? Was he drunk? He didn't seem to be.

...

Could it be that... He was... Happy...? To see ME...?

Pppfftfhth! Nah!

Yeah, good one, Anon.

Wow. Sure. Your father, who never in his life showed even the most miniscule interest in you, the same guy whose happiest day had to be sending you half a country away... Yeah, HE must have been absolutely ECSTATIC to see you.

Didn't the fact that he continuously shittalked you and your girlfriend prove that?

Geez... How could I have EVER entertained that idea?

...

I mean, it's not like I could ask him now anyway. Even if he graciously decided to hear me out, I would probably just make a fool of myself. Again.

If he made fun of me on a whim, that'd be one thing. Evidently though, I can embarrass myself on my own just fine.

So... Yeah. I'm sure Mom is fine.

If she's not back by morning, I'll try asking Dad. For whatever good that will do me.

I hope I'll get the chance to, anyhow. I can't stay here for long, I'll need to get back for that concert.

Wonder how Fang is doing, too... And all the others...

Will Fang be mad at me? I know Trish is.

Everyone seems to be mad at me nowadays. And it... Kinda sucks.

Is Mom mad at me too? What would she think about Reeda?

I really can't see them having daughter-in-law mother-in-law bonding time.

Or maybe I can? Mom used to smoke pot. I think.

Does Fang smoke pot? Or is she in the carfe mafia?

...

Man. I'm all over the place.

The adrenaline or whatever it was carried me all through the excitements of the evening, but now I feel just spent. Tired. I can barely keep my eyes open.

With the last of my strength I set an alarm for a bright early nine AM, then drop like a sack of bricks.

 

* * *

 

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Aw fuck.

...

Shit.

...

Yeah.

Okay.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest of ideas to sleep on this solid hard wooden grid of wooden solid hards. My back is fucking killing me.

With awkwardly animated, robotic movements I raise from my makeshift bed. As I stand, the sudden difference in altitude causes the blood to flow all over my body and into my head, giving me pins and needles, dizzying me. The bright daylight pouring into the room is no help either, and I find it very hard to orient myself.

The last fleeting remnants of my dreams replay inside my mind, but I find no hold on that amelodious cacophony either. It's all chaos.

I can already tell. This is gonna be another one of THOSE days.

Why couldn't I have stayed in Japan? Back there, everything was fine. I was happy. But here, it's... It's... Huh? What's this?

There's something in the air, something that stirs some primal instinct buried deep inside my soul.

Food.

My stomach turns, growling painfully loud. But I pay it no heed. I pay nothing no heed.

Can't think.

No think.

Only smell.

I don't even notice as my own two legs propel me forward, not until I almost fall down the stairs. Then, righting myself with the help of the handrail, I force myself to focus on the world around me. And as I do, I notice something other than the smell of fatty meaty goodness that surrounds me.

Sizzling.

Undoubtedly, someone's making breakfast. So I guess Mom made it home after all.

I feel a little saddened that I couldn't wait for her yesterday, but then again I was practically walking dead. At least we'll get to make up for it.

While she could be equally obnoxious as Dad, and while technically she did send me away too, well... She's still Mom.

Excited to meet her, I descend the stairs in a hurry. The fact that I can't suppress a huge goofy smile surprises even me.

Man, I'm just so glad that I don't have to deal with...

...Dad...

...T-Today...

...

...

But of course. It couldn't have been THAT easy. I really should have expected this.

The figure standing by the stove, albeit with his back turned to me, is definitely not Mom.

...

It's him.

[Dad]
"Wow, look who decided to climb out of his cave!"

I don't entertain him with an answer. Whatever epic burn he was setting up, I'm not gonna give him that satisfaction.

With my good mood all but dissipated, I take a seat by the table in the middle of the room - as far away from Dad as possible.

Not built in the traditional American-kitchen style, this room was just as annoyingly pompous as the rest. Way too large for what it was, it's been fashioned into half a kitchen and half a dining room.

[Anon]
"Where's Mom?"

As if on cue, Dad turns from the stove, placing two plates on the table.

[Dad]
"Let's eat first, and then we'll talk about your mother."

[Anon]
"Umm..."

That doesn't fucking sound good.

Briefly putting my rotten mood aside, I take a better look at Dad.

In place of his trademark suit jacket, he's currently sporting an apron - patterned with flowers and ribbons of all colors. It has always been weird to see him in anything else other than all black, but as a matter of a fact, this getup was actually pretty par for the course. Or rather, it used to be.

When I was little, Dad would often make breakfast for us all. From time to time, he'd even plan whole weekends around a cookout with the family.

So... Huh. I gotta revise my statement from yesterday. There WAS a time he cared.

Because on those cookouts, Dad went all out. Six meal courses, full roast beef, what have you. Shit, now that I think about it, didn't he build something like a pavilion in the back yard too? He did, didn't he?

All through my years growing up, whatever Dad bothered with, he always seemed to excel at it. His job, his hobbies... If only he bothered to be a good parent.

Anyway. That was, of course, before he graduated to ordering takeaway or letting Mom do all the cooking. It's been so long, if I didn't see him doing it just now, I couldn't have recalled any of that. I must have been like, what, six years old at the time? Not even that, probably.

Seems like a lifetime ago.

...

I watch Dad sit down on the other end of the table and dig into his meal. Only for a second or two, though, as my stomach promptly reminds me that I should be doing the same. And as such, I finally take a look at my own plate.

Bacon, nigh burned to a crisp. Eggs, done over easy. Some nondescript greenery on the side that I hesitantly identify as peas that have been boiled for far too long.

With my fork I poke at one of the eggs, bursting the yolk all over the rest of the plate.

Ugh...

I take another look at Dad, and note that the contents of his plate don't look one bit more appetizing than mine. So in other words, I didn't just get the leftovers - cause I could totally see him doing that.

Regardless, he's shoveling it into his mouth with no complaint.

Then, as if he sensed my watching him, he looks back at me.

[Dad]
"Aren't you hungry?"

[Anon]
"I, uh..."

[Anon]
"Yeah."

I glance back down at my food.

The bacon is getting all soggy, soaking in the egg-yolk.

The peas, against all logic, are beginning to dry out.

[Anon]
"I'm just... Confused."

Upon hearing my explanation Dad freezes mid motion, then puts his utensils down altogether. He gives a deep sigh, neatly cleaning his mouth with a napkin afterwards.

Some habits die hard, I guess.

[Dad]
"This was meant to be--"

[Dad]
"This is a--"

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"I'm sorry."

[Dad]
"For yesterday."

[Dad]
"And..."

[Dad]
"Yeah."

[Dad]
"I'm sorry."

...

I cannot believe what I'm hearing. Is this a dream?

Or rather, the better question would be...

[Anon]
"...Is this a trick?"

[Dad]
"..."

He doesn't say anything.

I can't tell which is weirder. Dad apologizing - for ANYTHING -, or him having nothing to say.

All my life, he's always had to have the last word. He's always had to be the wittier one, the one with the upper hand. Even if it made no sense whatsoever, he had to be the "bigger man".

...

I put my fork down, too, and face him properly.

[Anon]
"Where's Mom?"

[Dad]
"..."

It takes so long for Dad to answer, I'm just about give up and get back to my meal.

[Dad]
"She's staying at your grandmother's."

Uh...

[Anon]
"...Why?"

Did they have a fight, or...?

And OH MY FUCKING GOD it's so weird to see Dad like this, like... Vulnerable?

Whatever else one could say about him, he was a fucking adult, no doubt about it. He was always confident and sure of himself. He was, well... Reliable, in his own asshole ways.

I never would have called him my superhero like other children call their fathers, but I've always thought of him like someone who's very sure of who he is and what he's doing. He was just... This constant.

A constant pain in the ass, sure, but... I've never seen him be... Human...? Where's all this coming from?

It-It must be a trick. But what's his endgame?

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"There's no endgame."

...Fuckingmumbling.

[Dad]
"But you're right. We had a fight."

[Dad]
"A big one."

[Anon]
"Uh..."

[Anon]
"A-About what?"

[Dad]
"..."

Again, it takes Dad considerable time to respond.

His tone, calm as it's ever been. Voice, smooth like a con-man's. But cold. Little more than a whisper.

[Dad]
"About you."

Hearing his answer, the hairs on my arms and on the back of my neck stand up, and I get goosebumps all over.

I mean... It's not all that unbelievable for parents to talk about their children, but...

[Anon]
"...Why me?"

Dad takes another deep breath, as if preparing himself for a tough conversation.

I suppose it's gonna be one of those, yeah.

[Dad]
"You graduated about a week ago now, right?"

Technically, I've only officially graduated yesterday. Not that Mom and Dad would know that.

[Anon]
"Er... Yeah. Something like that."

[Dad]
"Right."

[Dad]
"Do you remember what I've told you? That it's either college or the army?"

[Anon]
"The navy."

[Dad]
"What?"

[Anon]
"The navy."

[Anon]
"You said it's either college or the navy."

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"The navy, then. Whatever. Point is, you remember."

As if I could forget THAT bit of impending doom, looming over me every single day for the past half year? Sure.

I say nothing, however, even concentrating on not mumbling from this point onward.

[Dad]
"Well, son... Uh..."

Cutting himself short, Dad throws his hands in the air and gesticulates wildly. He really doesn't seem prepared for this conversation.

And I can almost relate.

Almost.

[Dad]
"Did you uh... Notice that the..."

[Dad]
"The clock in your room, it's--"

[Anon]
"Mom's been taking care of it. So?"

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"It... Was me."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

That doesn't make any sense.

Why would HE ever bother with that?

[Anon]
"Dad."

[Anon]
"What did you and Mom fight about? Exactly?"

[Dad]
"...Exactly..."

He falls silent again.

His face, usually smug and weirdly charming, and calm above all else, controls as all sorts of emotions flash through it.

Shame.

Anger.

Hope.

Desperation.

Acceptance.

Fatigue.

To his honor, though, he maintains eye contact with me as he speaks up again.

[Dad]
"Your mother, she... She didn't want you to come home."

...

As the meaning of his words sink in, my heart skips a beat. Or two. Or three.

I can feel my whole body go numb.

[Anon]
"W-What...?"

T-This has gotta be another trick. A lie. There's just no way that--

My mind racing, I look for any inaccuracy, the slightest bit of contradiction in what he's saying. As if I was on the internet, arguing with someone trying to bait me.

[Anon]
"T-That makes no sense!"

[Anon]
"You didn't know I was coming home till yesterday!"

That's right! He didn't even know about my calls!

How could Mom have known, then? Let alone a week ago!

[Dad]
"It's not about you coming here now."

[Dad]
"We both knew your lease was about to expire."

[Dad]
"Your mother was certain you couldn't - or wouldn't - get a job, and that you wouldn't honor our agreement and join the army... Navy."

[Dad]
"She thought you're gonna come home, and be a... Newt? Is that what you call it?"

[Anon]
"It's... Neet."

[Anon]
"But..."

Mom... She said that?

No...

She couldn't have. She just couldn't...

I feel sick. Nauseous.

The word is spinning, and I need to grab onto the table because I feel like could fall over any second now.

And yet as my body weakens, rage builds up inside, making me want to throw this farce of a breakfast into Dad's face, or against the wall, if only to hear the satisfying clatter of porcelain.

I restrain myself, however, settling for shouting at the top of my lungs instead. Fuck the neighbours.

[Anon]
"I-I don't believe you!"

[Anon]
"You're lying!"

[Anon]
"Whooptie FUC-KING doo, you could put batteries into a clock!"

[Anon]
"Was that supposed to show how much you care about your itty-bitty baby-boy? About ME?! A FUCKING CLOCK?!"

[Anon]
"Don't you remember that you sent me away?!"

[Anon]
"YOU!"

[Anon]
"YOU! Dad!"

[Anon]
"You didn't want me here! You never have!"

[Anon]
"THE MOTHERFUCKING ARMY?! SERIOUSLY?!"

[Anon]
"You would have me shipped off to God-knows-where to die in a ditch, rather than ever see me again?!"

That must have struck a nerve.

It's the first time all through our fight that Dad breaks eye contact with me.

[Anon]
"Do I look like a fucking linebacker to you?!"

[Anon]
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a fucking nerd!"

I just now notice that somewhere along the way I stood up - both hands on the table as I lean into Dad's face. Shaking with fury, mouth frothing as I go on.

[Anon]
"But yeah, I guess it's not hard to overlook little details like that...

[Anon]
"...When you JUST DON'T FUCKING CARE!"

Taking a deep, rugged breath, I straighten my back. Though I don't know whether or not I should feel good, or bad.

Finally, I have stood up to Dad.

Finally, I have let it all out.

But... Is there anything about any of this I should feel good about? Like, be proud of what happened here...?

I slump back into my seat, looking at nothing in particular.

[Anon]
"...You sent me away..."

Silence encases the room.

A long, painful silence.

...

[Dad]
"I did."

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"If I said that was your mother's idea too, would you believe me?"

...

I say nothing. And I don't know why.

I don't believe him. I don't WANT TO believe him. ...But all through the rage, with the still coherent parts of my brain, I must admit - this doesn't seem like an act.

Dad is... An unrepentant liar and an unabated scheming asshole. Yet one that I have learned to predict.

Except this time, I couldn't pinpont a motive. I couldn't name a reason. I couldn't imagine a goal. Nothing else than some twisted sense of "doing the right thing". Of wanting to repair what he's broken.

He takes my lack of response in stride, continuing his explanation.

[Dad]
"At the time, we - your mother and I..."

[Dad]
"We just didn't know what to do with you."

[Dad]
"In a year, you would have graduated. Were we so lucky."

[Dad]
"But what future were you looking forward to?"

[Dad]
"No friends, no skills. Lots of problems."

[Dad]
"Your mother felt smothered by the idea that you'd stay here, grow up a manchild, and take away all our chances at being a decent family. Take away the entire rest of her life."

[Dad]
"There was no other way, but sending you away."

[Dad]
"It was either you, or her."

[Dad]
"And I did what I could."

[Dad]
"I've picked a spot she could agree to, but one I thought would help you come out of your shell."

[Dad]
"If those overinclusive pricks on the west couldn't do it, then..."

[Dad]
"..."

...

Neither of us says a word.

What Dad is telling me, it's...

I don't want to accept it. I refuse to accept it.

I want to forget that I've ever heard any of this bullshit pouring from his liar mouth. But I can't.

Because... It makes sense. Frighteningly so.

Could it really be true?

I've always known one of my parents hated me, but... Could I have been so wrong about it all this time?

Emotionally spent, I let my tensed up muscles relax, my shoulders to drop. The blinding, white hot fire that's been raging inside me subsides, to the point where I just feel empty inside. The hollow shell of a man, from whom any reason has been taken away, leaving only a gaping wound within.

[Anon]
"But y-you..."

[Anon]
"You... You don't care about me."

[Anon]
"You never came to see me. You never called. Not once..."

[Anon]
"What if I needed help? What if I couldn't make any friends?"

[Anon]
"Dad...?"

The things I'm saying, they're not accusations any longer. All I want now is to understand.

[Dad]
"You didn't call us either, son."

[Dad]
"I could understand you not wanting to."

[Dad]
"So I thought it would be best if I kept my distance."

[Dad]
"I believed you could make it on your own."

[Dad]
"...And you did, didn't you?"

Silence befalls the table again.

So many things I used to be sure of, crumbled into dust. So many things I believed in, gone. And yet...

Part of why I came here was to prove I'm not someone you just give up on. That if they did, I'd have the final laugh. And now to learn that all this time, someone actually believed in me...?

It's a cosmic kind of feel. One that I still don't fully accept, but one I want to.

[Anon]
"B-But..."

[Anon]
"What about Reeda?"

[Anon]
"What about her... About what I said yesterday?"

I can't bear to look at Dad any longer, turning my attention to my plate again.

The food on it has been all but ruined by now.

...

I hear the distinct sound of a chair moving, just like when I arrived home yesterday. Some part of me - a rather large part, actually - expects Dad to leave. Again. As if all he said was for show, without any real substance.

What happens though, is something else entirely.

I listen as Dad's footsteps close in on me, and watch from the corner of my eye as the lower part of his body enters my field of view. Apron and all.

A warm hand is placed on my shoulder, weighing on it reassuringly.

[Dad]
"If she's the one you decided to fight for, then... Who am I to tell you otherwise?"

[Dad]
"Nobody's perfect, are we?"

I don't know what hit harder. The meaning of his words altogether, or the fact that he said "we".

We. As if acknowledging that we're the same. Flawed to a fault, but still one team. One family. A father and his son. Men. Comrades. Equals.

Without thinking, I stand up with enough force to send my chair flying backwards, clattering on the ground and I embrace Dad in a strong, tight hug, letting heavy tears fall onto his impeccable white shirt - and flowery apron.

It's a little early to be crying, I know. It's not even noon. But I just can't help myself.

There are no words to describe the feeling of getting your father back.

 

* * *

 

We stayed like that for quite a while, until I calmed down enough to actually have breakfast. It was really awkward.

I'm not sure if I would have felt better if Dad called me gay for acting like a little sissy, so I told him that, to try and lighten the mood or something. But he just smiled and shook his head.

Although, at the end of the meal he did add that if I ever told anyone about our talk and totally manly hug, he'll say I'm a homo and tried to come onto him.

So, yeah... But other than that, we didn't talk much. Not even as I helped Dad do the dishes.

Even now, about an hour later, we are silent, standing out on the small porch in front of the house and watching cars and passerbys go about their business. It's a bizarre yet pleasant experience, and one I know I'll have to sadly end.

With my fingers I tap on the railing to get Dad's attention, and clearing my throat at the same time.

[Anon]
"I umm, I gotta leave soon."

[Dad]
"Hm? What's the hurry? With the lease expiring I though you'd wanna crash here for a while."

[Anon]
"Yeah, nah, I uh... I promised some friends I'd see their concert."

To be completely honest, up till now the thought have never even crossed my mind. I was pretty sure that there's just no option where I'm staying here for more than a single night.

Although... With Reeda we've never discussed how long I'll be staying here, so... Perhaps some father-son bonding time would be in order?

[Dad]
"Going to a concert, huh?"

Maybe I'm just imagining it, but did I hear a pang of pride in Dad's voice just now?

[Anon]
"Y-Yeah, they have this band, you know, and one of them is kinda my ex, so--"

[Dad]
"AN EX?!"

[Dad]
"Are you trying to tell me you had TWO girls breathe in your general direction over there?"

[Dad]
"What, did you pick up girls at the tard yard, or--"

He suddenly stops, biting his tongue.

[Dad]
"Er... S-Sorry. Son."

[Dad]
"Just... Surprised me, is all."

Huh. Looks like it takes real effort for him to play the all-caring wise father figure.

Still, his backslid reintroduces the awkwardness we fought to leave behind inside the house.

[Dad]
"A-And besides... I thought you'd want to go see your mother."

[Anon]
"Uhh..."

After what he just told me?

I mean... Yeah, I suppose it stands to reason that I should hear Mom's take on all this. These are some pretty wild accusations.

In the end I did just accept that everything Dad said was the truth. But I guess I still just don't see an angle?

If this is him playing a trick on me, then it's an awfully considerate one. So what else is there? Maybe with his asshole demeanor he hurt Mom so bad she's finally decided enough is enough and file for a divorce? So then this would be Dad's way of making sure I side with him?

Except if the things I thought about Dad were true, he'd be more than happy to pawn me off.

So, right now I really don't see how it would benefit me to see Mom. Well, other than the fact that she's my mother.

I didn't come here to get entangled in any drama, legal or otherwise. I'd rather just go commit deaf at a VVurm Drama concert instead.

Not to mention, while there undeniably is a bitterness in the back of my throat, I'm not actively thinking about it. I have just experienced this big unironical euphoric moment, and I wanna savor it for a little while longer.

Plus there's still business to be taken care of.

[Anon]
"Dad, there's... Something I wanted to talk to you about."

At the direct address he turns away from the road, facing me.

[Dad]
"Regarding... What what her name, Rrrr--?"

[Anon]
"Reeda."

[Dad]
"Reeda, right."

[Anon]
"Yeah."

[Anon]
"And uh, I mean, sort of."

[Dad]
"Sort of? So you're not getting married or anything?"

Wow. What?

[Anon]
"Geez. No."

[Anon]
"We've only been together for like, three months or something. Maybe four, I dunno."

Did he expect me to be some sort of retard that'd fall a girl so hard he'd wanna give up his whole life and throw any sense to the wind and--

Wait... Shit.

[Dad]
"And she's not pregnant, is she?"

[Anon]
"...Not that I know of."

[Anon]
"Look, can I just...?"

[Dad]
"Go ahead."

I take a deep breath, still unused to this new version of Dad. It's uncanny.

[Anon]
"The thing is, you see, right around graduation, they have umm... They've moved to..."

[Anon]
"J-Japan."

[Anon]
"I mean like, their entire family."

[Anon]
"And I was uh... I was th-thinking--"

[Dad]
"Japan."

[Anon]
"Yeah."

[Dad]
"Why?"

...Why does everyone keep asking me that?

Sure, it's an innocent enough question, and an obvious one at that. Yet I have no answer. Fuck if I know why they moved.

Is it really that important anyway? They moved. That's it.

[Anon]
"I don't know."

From the corner of my eye I meekly glance over at Dad. I suppose this is the part where he tells me what a huge autist I am for going through with something like this, and not even knowing why.

[Dad]
"I see."

Or... It's not that part, then?

Honestly, it puts me off just as much as that bump did back on the bus, totally screwing up my train of thought.

[Anon]
"Umm... So... I..."

[Anon]
"Uhhhhhhhhh--"

[Dad]
"You wanna move there too."

[Anon]
"Y-Yeah."

It is kinda obvious, to be honest.

[Anon]
"It-- It'd just be-- Like-- A couple months of allowance tops, till I can find a job, and..."

[Anon]
"A-And I would totally pay it back, and--"

[Dad]
"Sure."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

[Dad]
"We can figure it out."

..."We". Again.

[Anon]
"R-Right..."

This is... So fucking weird.

I've been running my mouth off about stuff feeling like a dream, but wow. Yeah. This gives a new definition to the phrase.

Or did I just straight up die? Is this what heaven is like?

[Anon]
"Er..."

[Anon]
"Thank you...?"

[Dad]
"Sure."

Again, I'm not really sure what I should say.

Like... Aren't we supposed to work out the details, since he agreed? Or would that come off as greedy? Would the polite - or just plainly normal - thing be to wait till he brings it up? Should I just be happy with how things turned out?

I certainly AM happy.

...

[Dad]
"So that concert..."

[Anon]
"Yeah?"

[Dad]
"When does it start?"

[Dad]
"It's Sunday today. Not many buses, you know."

Shit, he's right. I totally didn't think about that.

[Anon]
"Uhhh... I'm not sure. They only told me that it's today."

Well, that's technically true... But then again, I could have looked it up online. Wouldn't that be the responsible thing to do?

[Dad]
"Can't you ask them?"

Huh. Right again.

I suppose it really does say something that my first idea was to look it up on my own, while for Dad, extrovert extraordinare, it was to ask.

Wow, it's like, so easy when you have someone on your side who knows how the world works, and doesn't have to guess or plan ahead each and every social interaction.

[Anon]
"Umm, yeah, sure."

 

* * *

 

One roundtrip to my room later - since I did forget my phone there -, I'm just about to tap the call button. However, just who is it I should be calling?

Trish is... Trish is Trish.

But then again, Fang is... Well. She's Fang.

Not a lot of good options.

Hm. Okay. So... Let's call... Um...

Umm...

Shit I don't know.

Cause it's like, Trish I can safely expect to be a bitch. It might not be pleasant, but that's something I know how to handle.

The Fang conversation is a total wildcard, however. I wouldn't go as far as to think it'd be an enjoyable one, remembering her reaction to Trish inviting me to their concert is enough proof of that. So at best it'd be awkward; while at worst it could straight up devolve into shitflinging. And that's not something I'd wanna do.

Not only because I'd feel bad about it, but because Fang would have to suffer it too. I'd rather not ruin her day, and let her to look forward to her concert in peace - giddy as she always used to be at times like that.

I feel a little melancholic, recalling those times. Too bad it didn't work out between us.

...

Alright. Fuck it.

Decision made, I lift the phone to my ear.

...

Ringing... Ringing...

Then suddenly, I'm greeted by the annoying voice of a miniature purple trigger.

[Trish]
"What the fuck do YOU want?"

[Anon]
"Wow, Trish. Hello to you too!"

She doesn't bother with a witty reply. I'm not even sure which is more to our custom. Respective name calling, or her ignoring my perfectly well thought-out and awesome banter.

[Trish]
"Are you calling to apologize? FINALLY?"

[Trish]
"You're kinda late to be doing that now. Asshole."

[Anon]
"Uh..."

Shit. Yeah.... I guess I should have at least sent her a message or something? I kinda forgot about the whole phone thing while I was with Reeda. And then I figured I could just apologize to her at the concert.

Let's come up with some bullshit excuse. Even though Trish being herself can usually see right through my shit, it's worth a shot.

[Anon]
"I uh, wanted to do that at the concert? You know like, in person?"

Technically, that isn't even a lie. But there's no answer, though. Not for so long I actually have to check if Trish didn't just hang up on me.

[Trish]
"You're coming... To see us...?"

[Trish]
"I didn't think you'd actually..."

Her voice carries a significantly different tone than the stuck-up bitch one I came to know in the past. Curious, wondering. Almost serene. And maybe even a tad bit embarrassed.

Normally, this would be the point where I'd use the opportunity to get the upper hand on her and come up with some sort of creative insult. But right now, I just don't feel like getting into a fight.

If we're gonna be adults soon, it's about time we started acting like it. Today might be the last time I'm getting to see Fang and Trish. Ever. I think it'd be better for all of us if it could be a happy memory. The kind you enjoy looking back on.

[Anon]
"Um, sure. That-That's uh, why I called you."

[Trish]
"Y-Yeah?"

[Anon]
"Yeah, umm, I mean... Around what time should I get there?"

The shrill voice that fills my ears almost makes me drop the phone.

[Trish]
"You didn't even think to look it up?! Are all of you spear chuckers this stupid, or is it just you?"

[Anon]
"..."

I fully expect another string of colorful human-shaming euphemism and curses, only to be surprised by a rugged sigh. I can basically see Trish rolling her eyes, as if she was standing right in front of me.

Well, I suppose, on the day of her big performance she's got other things to worry about than getting into a verbal kung-fu battle with me.

[Trish]
"We start at six."

Six.

Ssssssssiiiiixxxxx.

That is, six in the afternoon.

Afternoon. Six. Uhhh...

Shit.

The trip from here to there is eight hours - at a minimum. Even if I started running to catch the next bus RIGHT NOW, I'd be a couple of hours late.

How long is a concert anyway?

[Anon]
"Ummm..."

[Trish]
"Yeah?"

[Anon]
"N-Nothing. I might be a little late, that's all."

[Trish]
"It's not even noon. How the fuck could you be late when you live in fucking Skinrow?"

[Trish]
"I knew you were slow in the head, but I--"

[Anon]
"Oh, fuck you! I'm half a world away from fucking Volcaderra."

How can someone so small be such a huge bitch? That's it. I wanted to be civil, really I did, but even so she made me lose my temper.

I hate that little trigger so damn fucking much.

[Trish]
"What? Where are you? You're not in Japan, right?"

[Anon]
"The fuck do you care?"

[Trish]
"..."

[Trish]
"You're right. I don't."

[Trish]
"Just get your shit together and buy your God damn ticket!"

[Anon]
"Gee thanks, got your professional ball-buster license yet?"

[Trish]
"If you dare to miss our show YOU WILL WISH IT WAS ONLY YOUR BALLS I'M GONNA BUST!"

And with that, the call ends.

I take a deep breath, doing my best to subdue the oncoming frustrated shout. Like... All in all, it was probably still better than if I called Fang.

At least that's what I'm telling myself to calm down.

[Dad]
"Feisty."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

[Dad]
"This Trish girl."

Oh.

...Yeah, I suppose it would have been rather hard for Dad not to overhear our conversation, what with all the yelling and stuff.

[Anon]
"...You have no idea."

[Dad]
"Really? So what was it?"

Huh?

[Anon]
"What was what?"

[Dad]
"Why did you two, you know... Split up?"

[Dad]
"She's the ex you were talking about, isn't she?"

[Anon]
"WhuhTrish?"

I'm so flabbergasted at the mere insinuation that the words blubber forth from my mouth in an unrecognizable mess.

Trish is probably the very last person on the planet - and on any other planet, I'm sure - that I'd EVER consider dating. And that's including people like Naomi. And Naser. Shit, Carldewskii, even.

[Anon]
"Yeah, no. I'd never-- We're--"

[Anon]
"No."

[Anon]
"Definitely not."

[Anon]
"No."

[Anon]
"Trish and I, just..."

[Anon]
"No."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"No."

[Dad]
"Hm. I see."

...?

The way he doesn't elaborate makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. Surely, Dad cannot actually think Trish is anything but a pain in the ass?

Does he?

[Dad]
"And the concert?"

Oh, right. I was so preoccupied denying affiliation with triggers like it was some war crime, I totally forgot about the actual purpose of the call.

[Anon]
"They're starting at six."

[Dad]
"Six, huh? That's no good."

[Anon]
"Yeah, I'm gonna be what, like, an hour late at least?"

[Anon]
"Probably more."

[Anon]
"..."

Leaning on the porch fence, I hang my head like the failure I am.

What the fuck kinda concert starts at six? Is this some PG-13 metal band, with a mosh pit that's full of bouncy balls?

...

No. I shouldn't blame them. I had all the time in the world to look up the stupid thing. In fact, that should have been my first thing to do. As if I had any sense resembling stuff like responsibility? Reason? Accountability?

I know Trish positively revels in shitting on me, but I guess she did have a point calling me a stupid spear chucker. I'm never gonna fucking live this down.

[Dad]
"Nah son, it's not all that bad."

Huh? Oh wait, don't tell me...

[Anon]
"Was I...?"

[Dad]
"Yup."

Great. Just another reminder that I most likely have some sort of legitimate brain damage. The fucking mumbling.

I sure as fuck hope I wasn't doing it on the phone this time around...

[Dad]
"Come on, I'll take you."

[Anon]
"...It's fine Dad, I can walk."

[Dad]
"That would be quite the walk."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

Wait... He can't mean...?

 

* * *

 

Perplexed as I first was by Dad's offer, he did mean precisely what it sounded like. He would drive me all the way to Volcaderra Bluffs.

And I simply didn't know whether to blink or shit my pants.

Something that went double for when I was about to take a seat in the back, only to be given a glare by Dad, the kind you'd expect accompanied by a baseball bat. But the truth is, never in the history of anything did I ride shotgun. So once again I had to admit - if Dad was playing a con, he was going all in on it.

He did warn me, however, that it's been a while since he took the car anywhere. And, well, I could understand that. You don't really need a car to go anywhere in this riveting four mile stretch of a podunk town. Especially not if you live in the middle of it.

The only sort of store or service building we didn't have within walking distance was the gas station on the edge of town, down by the highway. But you're not going there if you don't actually need the gas, either.

And thus, all these years, the car must have been collecting dust under a tarp in the garage.

I don't know all that much about cars, so when Dad asked "Ain't it a beaute?" I could only nod and stutter. It was a black, custom 80's Lincoln - so I was told - supposedly a great classic. To me, though, all that said was I shouldn't be surprised that it's not much to look at by today's standards. But I guess it did fit Dad's image.

The image of a well put together adult, which all but crumbled to dust once he found a bag of unopened pretzels in the glovebox, and naturally, started eating it with glee. A surprise snack, as he called it. As for me, I didn't even want to think about how long it could have been there.

In any case, the interior of the vehicle was another thing in itself. Black and brown leather everything, curiously tasteful rather than tacky. I don't know how they pulled it off, but by God they did it.

Oh, and it most definitely felt like sitting on a cloud or a big body-sized pillow. Only a couple of miles in, and I already felt like I'm melting into the seat - in the most comfy way imaginable. Take the engine's pleasant murmur into account, and it was no wonder I had to continuously fight to keep my eyes open.

Dad said it would be fine if I fell asleep, but I just didn't want to. Not even sure why. Instead, I passed the time telling him stories about my time among the dinos. Only omitting certain details, like our relationship with Fang. Every now and again Dad would ask questions of his own too. I wasn't sure if he was just being polite or if he actually really honestly did care, but it felt good to have him listen anyway.

Somewhere along the way - after one of our stretch-slash-piss-slash-pretzel breaks -, the topic shifted over to Reeda again. I told Dad the story of how we got together, again, only leaving out specifics like that drunk handjob.

It wasn't only after retelling the fight against the dealer guy that I remembered, I was supposed to call Reeda today so she could tell me about the "awesomely cool" thing she was gonna do. Whatever it actually was. Plus I kinda want to brag about making up with Dad.

Except... She's not picking up.

Not even on the third try.

So after a couple more minutes with a sigh I concede defeat, accepting the fact that she's probably still mad at me. Even though, she did promise that she wouldn't be.

But uh, yeah. I did just out her darkest secret to someone who's a complete stranger to her. Maybe she's not picking up because she knows she couldn't keep her cool, and will call back later. That's what I'm hoping for, anyway.

[Dad]
"Trouble in paradise?"

He punctuates his question with a yawn and a stretch - as much as you can while sitting at the wheel. All this driving must have taken it's toll on Dad too, considering he hasn't seen the inside of a car in years. We've been going at it for a good four hours now.

[Anon]
"Something like that, yeah..."

With a frown I put my phone away.

Now here's a thought, though. Should I tell Dad about our fight? He did ask, after all. And he might be able to give me some advice as well.

Although... I don't want to further anger Reeda by discussing her with other people.

I'm reminded of our talk when I first found out about her "dark side". Back then she asked if I wanted to be with her, knowing THAT. Except she phrased in such a tricky way that, just like now, it was a situation with seemingly no right solutions.

However, as it was back then, it still is much more important that we stay together, rather than not making Reeda mad. If that makes any sense. Like, unless I can figure out how not to tank the entire relationship, it doesn't really matter if she's angry at me for something minor.

...

Alright. I'm going for it.

[Anon]
"We're... Um... Kinda having a fight?"

[Anon]
"It's uh..."

As I'm about to begin my explanation, I realize that there's a whole lot of background information to fill Dad in on. Hopefully I won't come off as a sperg that can't communicate for shit. Even though that's practically my middle name by now.

[Anon]
"Uhhhhhh..."

[Anon]
"Remember how I told you she has uh, like, this... Uh... Issue, with uh... Substances?"

[Dad]
"That she sucks dick for drugs?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Yeah. That."

[Anon]
"And it's suckED. It's not an ongoing thing."

Jesus Christ, I didn't expect this to be an easy conversation, but it's already fucking horrible.

Moving on...

[Anon]
"Okay, so... She's uh... She's NOT a junkie. Okay?"

[Anon]
"She's most definitely NOT a junkie."

[Anon]
"But uh, she still uh, you know, uhhh..."

[Dad]
"Partakes?"

[Anon]
"Yes! Yes. She partakes."

Thank you Dad and your strangely diplomatic manner of speaking.

[Anon]
"Like, you know, she doesn't partake HARD, but..."

[Dad]
"But she partakes."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Yeah."

I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.

Looking at Dad, I can't tell what he's thinking. He's looking straight ahead at the road, holding a pokerface - so as not to hurt my feelings, more likely than not. He's like a statue. Well, other than taking a pretzel every now and again, of course.

And I can totally understand his disdain.

Like, sure. His lazy ass has never been alien to vices. Alcohol, fast food, some weed every now and again. But that still is pretty fucking far from... Uh... From what Reeda has been doing.

Let's just continue.

[Anon]
"Um, so..."

[Anon]
"Here she had this hookup, the dealer guy I've told you about."

[Anon]
"But in Japan... W-Well she just didn't know anyone, s-so..."

[Anon]
"A-And it was her idea!"

[Anon]
"But like, I didn't say no because I thought it'd be good for her! For us!"

[Anon]
"A-And then she--"

[Dad]
"Wait, her idea was what?"

[Anon]
"Huwat?"

[Dad]
"I'm not sure what you're trying to say, son, but you're leaving out the middle part of it."

Fuck.

And here I was trying to actually sound normal for a change.

[Anon]
"Uhhh..."

[Anon]
"Okay."

[Anon]
"So, here she had this hookup."

[Anon]
"The dino guy that--"

[Dad]
"The guy you told me about, yeah. Okay. And?"

[Anon]
"And..."

Looks like Dad's reaching the end of his patience too.

And I don't blame him one bit. Listening to a sperg like me all day must be exhausting. Hats off to Reeda in that regard. Cause now that I think about it, I have no idea how she can put up with me on a daily basis.

There was that one time she told me she finds it kinda adorkable, but uh... Anyway, I'm getting off topic now.

[Anon]
"Okay, so the thing is, she didn't know anyone in Japan. ERGO it would be hard to find drugs, right?"

[Dad]
"Right."

[Anon]
"So she thought it'd be high time to, like, give it up."

[Dad]
"You mean to stop using?"

[Anon]
"Er, yeah."

I think her exact phrasing was "to lay back with the abuse".

[Anon]
"So, you know, I supported her decision..."

...Even though getting high was pretty much the only thing we've ever done together.

I mean... Yeah, sure, we did stuff normal couples do too. Like staying in to cuddle and have movie nights, getting drunk and singing old classics, going to the park to feed the ducklings or whatever, but I mean, we didn't specifically PLAN any of that. We just kinda got high and went with the first thing either of us felt like doing.

So I was afraid the dynamic we worked out would sorta just break?

But then again, I couldn't see us being an actual family with actual children and having actual jobs and all that jazz if we got high, like, every other day. Nor if our lives would forever include the struggle to find and pay off dealers.

[Dad]
"Alright, so what happened?"

[Dad]
"She didn't keep to her word or something?"

[Anon]
"Well... Kinda?"

[Dad]
"Kinda?"

[Anon]
"It's complicated. ...And stupid."

I close my eyes and take a long, deep breath, in an attempt to once again gather my scattering thoughts.

We've just arrived at the part where it's gonna get ugly. I don't even feel like continuing this conversation, it just gonna suck so much.

Would Dad understand if I went like lmao gg ez no re?

...

Probably not.

Plus, this is pretty much my only chance to get any kind of help. If there's a chance I can fix things with Reeda, shouldn't I take it? No matter how bad it feels to relive that fight?

I let out the air I've been holding, and open my eyes again.

[Anon]
"Okay, so... Ugh..."

[Anon]
"It's like... The whole point would be that we would focus on our relationship and our future and stuff, right?"

[Anon]
"I mean, just, being responsible."

[Dad]
"Right."

[Anon]
"So, uh, instead of using, she started having these... Adventures."

[Anon]
"Every now and again she would go out and look for something uh..."

[Dad]
"Exciting?"

[Anon]
"Dangerous."

For the shortest of seconds, Dad's pokerface falls. It's only a subtle movement of his eyes as he glances at me.

Nevertheless, this time, he says nothing. Which means I should continue.

[Anon]
"So..."

[Anon]
"She, uh... She didn't want to live a boring life."

[Anon]
"Like, okay, there was this mountain nearby, right?"

[Anon]
"Sometimes she'd go up and off the beaten path, and like, sit at the edge of a cliff. Or jump around some loose rocks above a pretty steep fucking drop. Stuff like that."

[Anon]
"Because she could? I guess?"

[Anon]
"Or she'd go and shoplift mundane everyday shit - I'm talking like ONE apple or ONE piece of candy."

[Anon]
"It was just, you know, about the thrill?"

[Dad]
"And what did you do?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"Well..."

...

Shit. I can't bring myself to say it.

...Because I did nothing.

...

The thing is... What always fascinated me about Reeda was her free spirit. Sure, she was also attractive, smart, clever, funny, sexy, and we just seemed to click. Hell, she even smelled nice - at all hours of the day.

But more importantly, it felt like she made a difference. A thousand other girls could come and go, and my life would be the same as any other bloke with any other girlfriend. But Reeda had this thing about her that I can't even really describe. Like...

Who else would name songs shit like "I returned from the bathroom and Hitler took my seat so I got under the table and bit his toe off"?

Who else would dare me to chug a beer while doing a handstand, and then laugh at me when I can't?

Who else would go up a mountain for no reason other than to prance around on unstable fucking rocks?

Who else would get me into a fight with a drug dealer? And then eat lasagne with me?

I mean, for any other girl, why bother? Nobody could ever compare to Reeda.

Because... She wasn't JUST a girlfriend. She was my raptor gee eff.

So if I told her to cut her shit out, it'd be as if I told her to stop being herself. I mean, yeah, of course I don't want her stealing shit. I don't want her falling off a cliff and fucking dying.

But I want Reeda to, well, BE Reeda.

...

Except...

[Anon]
"That's... Not the end of the story."

[Dad]
"Oh?"

[Anon]
"Let's say that I could, uh... Tolerate her doing all that."

More like was too confused to do anything about it, but whatever.

[Dad]
"But?"

[Anon]
"BUT!"

[Anon]
"She's made some... New friends."

[Dad]
"What, did she get into a gang or something?"

[Anon]
"Er... No, I don't think she went that far. But ummm... Like..."

[Anon]
"Well, they weren't the respectable kinds of friends either."

[Anon]
"Like... She was stealing apples for fun, they were stealing TVs for cash."

...Okay, yeah, that really does sound like a gang, now that I think about it. Did Reeda just join the Yakuza or something? I've never really connected the dots.

It couldn't be that her "awesomely cool" thing was her initiation, right? When I get back, will she be sporting an eyepatch and a katana? She said she liked kimonos.

I mean, that does sound pretty hot, but, uh... That's not the main issue here.

Time to tell Dad the ACTUAL PROBLEM.

[Anon]
"The thing is... She didn't even tell me."

[Anon]
"She just kinda... Mentioned it. Like, offhandedly in the middle of a random ass conversation."

[Anon]
"As if it was the most natural thing in the world."

[Anon]
"So THEN I got mad."

[Anon]
"And she was all like, who am I to tell her how to pick her friends?"

[Anon]
"Like, as if I wanted to control her or whatever."

[Anon]
"That's so fucking retarded."

[Anon]
"But oooh! How dare I worry about her?!"

I'm not sure if I can communicate the absolute industrial grade level of retardation I felt back then, at the mere absurdity of the situation. I think I'm coming across more like some whiny asshole, but whatever.

I mean, what the fuck can you even do when you're handed a problem like that?

If I'm right and convince Reeda not to be friends with those people, then I did, in fact, forbid her from doing something she liked. Social interaction, nonetheless. And that IS deep into asshole territory.

But if I'm wrong then it's only a matter of time before she gets into trouble. And I do mean big fucking serious trouble. Like legal trouble. Like going to jail kinda trouble.

And even if not, what if she starts using again? Would I just have to take that, too, without saying a single word? I admit I'm no expert, but that doesn't fucking sound like a stable fucking relationship.

So what, is this what I get for dating a junkie?

Cause yeah, I keep saying she totally isn't one, but that doesn't change the fact that she fucking is.

[Anon]
"..."

[Dad]
"And?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Dad]
"..."

[Anon]
"And..."

[Anon]
"I kinda told her that..."

Oh this just feels so stupid...

Yeah. Nevermind. I've said enough.

I'm like, infinitely more familiar with the situation and Reeda, and even fucking MYSELF, than Dad is. And - contrary to popular belief - I'm not actually stupid.

What kinda advice could anyone give me? How to best rationalize breaking up? Cut my losses short? Never stick your dick in crazy? People change?

I don't fucking want to rationalize it. Maybe I'm just a coward because I think no other girl would take me, especially now that school has ended and they have no reason to even look my way, but still, I don't want to give up what I have.

Not to mention, Reeda didn't give one single sign that she doesn't love me anymore. All these escapades of her? She's only been doing that shit when we couldn't be together. Like while I was helping her parents, or if I fell asleep on her watching a movie or something. She still put US first. It's just...

There must be a way to solve this. But Raptor Jesus on his cross of stone, I don't see it.

...

Giving a sigh, I slump back into the seat.

[Anon]
"...Just forget it..."

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"Are you sure?"

...

Am I? I don't even know.

I just don't feel like talking about it anymore.

Plus, the last thing I want is to take out my anger on Dad. So I'm very, very glad he isn't pushing it.

[Anon]
"...Yeah..."

To emphasize that the conversation is over I turn away from Dad, looking out the window to the side instead.

...

And I take a pretzel.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence - mostly. I say mostly, because apparently, I snore.

Anyhow, we passed the city limits of Volcaderra Bluffs only a couple of minutes ago. With half an hour to spare.

Actually it could have been closer to an hour and a half, if we didn't stop to grab something to bite. I was at first against the idea, but as soon as Dad saw a sign promising us "the graviest pancakes in all the states", there was no argument.

Still, the closer we get to our destination, the more nervous I am about the whole ordeal. Even though it's probably just my 'tism acting up. I guess just I don't want to fuck up this close to the finish line...

And so, I can feel tremendous weights lift off my shoulder as I finally spot the place and the crowd gathered outside. There are perhaps a bit too many people for what you'd expect from a VVurm Drama concert, but at last, we made it.

Well, technically, I made it. Dad dropped me off just around the corner, so I'm not really sure where he is right now. Parking is terrible in this part of town.

But I'm sure he'll find his way. If he wants to.

In any case, I'm currently powerwalking up to the pizza parlor that supposedly hosts the show. And by now, I can even make out a couple of familiar faces. A very enthusiastic lime colored stego waving me down, and a latina girl accompanying her.

They're even sorta dressed up. Certainly more classy than I'd go for, especially for a trashy metal concert.

And no, I did NOT mean trash metal.

[Stella]
"Anon! Here! Hey, Anon! Anon!"

The fuck is she so excited about?

[Anon]
"Um... Yeah. Hi, Stella. Rosa."

[Rosa]
"Hello, An-on!"

[Anon]
"What's up?"

I can barely get the question out and Stella is already on me, shaking my shoulders with so much vigor it makes me feel like a ragdoll.

[Stella]
"Have you REALLY been to JAPAN?!"

[Stella]
"Tell me! Tell me!"

[Stella]
"Tell me ALL ABOUT IT!"

Riiiight... How silly of me to forget.

Stella is the epitome of a shamelessly weird weeaboo - or a weirdly shameless one. Of course she'd be interested in my trip to the mythical land of Nippon.

[Stella]
"Where did you go? What did you see?"

[Stella]
"OH! Did you go to Akihabara?"

[Stella]
"NO! Wait! Did you visit Okinawa?"

[Stella]
"Wait! Wait! No! Did you see the Imperial Palace?"

[Stella]
"TELLLL MEEEE!"

She's handling me so rough, rocking my body back and forth with such ease, I must look like a reed in the wind right now.

What do you even do in a situation like this...?

[???]
"Woah, son, I didn't know you were this popular with the ladies."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

[Stella]
"Huh?"

[Rosa]
"Huh?"

The three of us turn to the source of the voice in unison. Like those little figurines you see on elaborate wooden clocks and stuff. Though ,naturally, I'm the only one to recognize the pristine black suit - neatly adorned with pretzel crumbs.

I sigh, prying Stella's hands off of me. She's currently too preoccupied ogling the tall handsome stranger to notice. Her and Rosa both.

Then, with another sigh, I resign myself for a the awkward scene that's sure to follow.

[Anon]
"Stella, Rosa, meet Dad."

[Anon]
"Dad, these are Stella and Rosa. I know them from school. They are on the gardening club."

[Dad]
"My pleasure, to make your acquaintance!"

He reaches out with a hand, giving the bedazzled girls one manly handshake after the other.

I'm not sure what must have hit them harder, either. The fact that they've just met MY FATHER, or that he looks like he just crawled off the set of a teen romance-fantasy drama.

[Rosa]
"Y-Your..."

[Stella]
"...Fa-Father?"

[Dad]
"That's right! Anon Mous senior."

[Stella]
"W-Wait! And you have the same n-name?"

[Stella]
"Aww, that's so cute!"

[Stella]
"Anon you never told us!"

Yeah, as if I would ever want to.

[Rosa]
"Sí! Tell us more!"

[Dad]
"Oh, now what's there to tell? It feels like it was just yesterday little Anon pooped his first diapers! Haha!"

Oh geez... Now I REALLY want to elbow that sly bastard in the ribcage. But for the time I suppress the urge, gritting my teeth as the girls giggle. Instead I scan our surrounding, desperately looking for a way - ANY way - to escape this conversation.

And as I do, I notice a poster on the wall. In fact, I have no idea how I've missed it till now.

For one thing, it's pretty big. Almost the size of a person.

For another, it's pitch black, with painfully contrasting bold yellow letters. Definitely a stark change from Trish's professional works of a six-year-old who just found word art in PowerPoint. Going back to those letters, however, and more importantly to what they spell out...

"VVurm Duo."

Huh. Well... I suppose with Reeda gone it really is only the two of them now. So did they rebrand the whole band? Is it still two basses, or will one of them play the drums? Or...

So many questions flood my mind, and I barely notice Stella handing me something.

[Stella]
"Here you go!"

[Anon]
"Whuh?"

[Stella]
"Your ticket."

I take the thing from Stella, then hold it up to my face as if I was trying to decipher a foreign language or something. And it certainly does prove to be a ticket. Also black, like the poster, with those yellow letters advertising VVurm Dra--

VVurm Duo.

[Anon]
"Uh... Thanks?"

[Anon]
"But wait, how did you know--?"

I don't even bother to finish the sentence. Because of course...

Trish must have told them to get me a ticket, so that I'll have to pay for it even if I miss the actual concert. I'm not sure if I should be amazed or disgusted. She's definitely one crafty trigger.

[Rosa]
"Fang told us you are coming. And that you might be late."

[Stella]
"Yeah, so she asked us to save you a ticket. Just in case."

Huh...?

[Anon]
"F-Fang said that?"

[Rosa]
"She sure did, An-on."

[Stella]
"But umm, we only got the one."

[Stella]
"Sorry, Mr. Mous."

[Dad]
"Nah it's fine. I can still get one, can't I?"

[Stella]
"Ummm..."

The girls look at one another uncomfortably.

[Rosa]
"Quitado."

[Dad]
"Huh?"

[Stella]
"T-They sold out."

Seriously? VVurm Drama we talking about?

No, excuse me. VVurm Duo.

...But still.

[Dad]
"Hmm, we'll just have to make do then."

[Dad]
"Son, you're fine sitting in my lap, aren't you?"

[Anon]
"UHH--"

[Dad]
"Or maybe one of your girlfriends would be more inclined?"

I wince painfully - doing my best to not have my ulcer fucking explode out of sheer embarrassment - as I scramble to find my words and explain to Stella and Rosa that no, my father is most definitely NOT a fucking pedophile, it's just that he's got a twisted sense of humor.

To my great surprise and prolonged mental anguish, however, all I can hear is the girls giggling again.

And... Wow. Just wow.

Yeah, maybe it would have been better to actually miss the show. Listening to Dad trying to pick up my friends is a nightmare. And the worst part is that I simply can't tell he's joking or not.

I'm so busy fighting my urge to vomit and and have a seizure at the same time, if only so I can roll around in my own throw-up, that I almost miss a VERY Italian T-Rex bellowing from the door, beckoning us all to go in.

 

* * *

 

The inside of the pizza parlor is like dropping into a different dimension. One that smells like grease and Italian seasoning.

More importantly though, same as the poster and ticket, it's basically pitch black in here. Only illuminated by the light coming from the phones of the patrons, and from under the heavy curtains that have been drawn over the windows.

Is this even legal? This must be a heath hazard or something.

Cautiously - as not to trip on any legs or various other dino extremities -, I make my way to an empty-looking table, leaving Dad to his own devices. I'm quite certain that if anyone can hustle their way in, it's him.

Luckily, the girls have their own table, so it seems I'll be spared from any further embarrassment. For now.

For a second or two I follow the path they go between the tables, but they soon mold into the surrounding darkness.

Being left alone midst all these strangers that I can't even see puts me at unease. I know I'm just as invisible as everyone else around me, but I can't help feeling like I'm under a spotlight. Especially so cause I personally know the band. Possibly more intimately than anyone else here.

Where are they, anyway? Didn't Trish say they start at six?

I knew I shouldn't have trusted a trigger.

...

To distract myself from my growing nervousness, I try making out the stage. But no matter how hard I squint and strain my eyes, I can't see anything. Gonna be one quote un-quote epic opening act, I suppose.

After a couple more minutes the T-Rex guy shows up again, asking everyone to mute and put away their phones and stuff.

At the same time Dad makes his appearance as well, slumping into the seat next to mine without warning. I jump a little, but thankfully we don't make a scene.

[Dad]
"Hey!"

[Dad]
"I've ordered us a meatlovers'."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

[Dad]
"A pizza."

[Dad]
"This IS a pizza place, isn't it?"

[Anon]
"Um, yeah, sure."

Dad's presence actually calms me somewhat - and boy isn't that just the weirdest thing ever -, but I'm not really in the mood for a conversation. So again, I turn back to the stage, expecting something to happen any second now.

And something does, in fact, catch my eye. Sitting by one of the tables at the very front, I think I see a familiar figure.

It couldn't be... Naser?

He's sitting just far enough from me that I can't tell. Wouldn't it be something, though, so see him at one of Fang's concerts?

I mean, I don't really know how close they are nowadays, but I can distinctly remember Fang hating her little brother's guts. Could they have made up since then?

As my inspection continues, another dark figure sits by the table. One that looks vaguely like Naomi. It appears they're whispering something to eachother with guy-wo-could-be-Naser, then the girl puts her head on the dude's shoulder.

...How sweet.

Not a few seconds later I notice shadows moving on stage. My eyes must have gotten used to the darkness.

But wait a jiffy longer, and I wish they hadn't.

From behind the stage a bright yellow floodlight shines over the crowd, blinding us all. For the briefest of moments I can make out two dinos standing up there. One taller with wings, and one shorter with horns.

VVurm Duo just made their entrance, no doubt.

The light is soon shut off with a strobe-like effect, and the visage is gone. With the crowd's collective ability to see, but whatever. Luckily, no-one whines or complains too loud or for too long.

And so, once I'm not all about blinking away the purple dots dancing in front of my eyes, eventually, I hear it.

At first, I'm not ever sure it's there. Only thinking it's a hallucination, or that I'm imagining it.

But after about half a minute, I'm now certain.

Humming.

Feels like it's coming from all directions. From tactically placed speakers, I suppose, but it's a cool effect regardless. The room must have great acoustics too.

I'm not entirely sure, but I think it's Fang's voice.

Or maybe it's Trish's?

Or... Wait... Is it both? Or like...

It sounds like a continuous hum, but at the same time it's like two different voices chasing one-another.

About a minute later beats join the melody. Doesn't seem like a drum, but it sounds good.

And... I gotta hand it to them, this opening is miles better than what I was expecting from VVurm Drama - shredding on a bass and Fang shrieking obscenities. A quick glance at Dad tells me he's just as intrigued as I am.

It also hits me that this must be the first social event in, like, a decade that we're attending together. Makes me feel... I don't know. Weird. But uhh, the good kind of weird? And I just can't suppress the smile crawling onto my face.

Shifting my attention back to the show, I think the humming is about to reach its climax, with the beats getting ever faster as it does.

And then, there it comes--

A gentle but still quite resounding strum on a guitar.

A guitar, that is not a bass.

Thank fuck.

I don't know what happened, but I'm honestly happy not having to witness yet another VVurm Drama fuckup. Although I probably shouldn't jinx it. We're only getting started.

With the pace picking up, the reflectors around the room slowly come to life, coating the scene in a cozy dim light. For the first time, the audience can actually see the band members.

They're standing back to back, both of them wielding guitars. Fang's looks like a regular electric one, while I recognize Trish's as her bass.

They're both plucking away at their instruments, playing a song that's... Well, not the best I've ever heard, but it's certainly a pretty good one. It's definitely not metal, more like... Indie? Alt? Emo - is that even a genre?

Whatever, it sounds cool. That's what matters.

To be honest, if they didn't stick to that stupid double bass setup, their other songs could have been just as good. The only other difference is the lack of lyrics, replaced by humming through certain parts of the song.

Hmm... That's right! Reeda wrote most of their songs, didn't she? Makes me kinda sad she never could have had a concert of her own that didn't suck balls. I wonder what she'd think, seeing her friends now.

Eventually the song comes to an end, followed by the cheerful hollering and applause of the crowd. It really does feel like a proper show. Perhaps one on the artsy side rather than one with a mosh-pit, but it's enjoyable nonetheless.

Bolstered by their success, the girls soon start playing another song.

Then, a couple minutes in, Dad taps me on the shoulder to get my attention.

[Dad]
"They're pretty good, huh?"

[Anon]
"Uh, yeah...?"

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say. I mean, is he trying to be nice because they're my friends?

[Dad]
"So... Which one of them is Trish?"

...Right.

I should have known his intentions are entirely selfish and dishonest. He didn't even TRY to dress it up!

He could have just asked which one is my ex, and still arrive at the same conclusion.

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"The one with the bass. That's Trish."

[Dad]
"The little trigga, huh? I see."

I'm expecting some snark remark or the other, but once more Dad refuses to elaborate. And once more, it makes me feel like there are insects crawling under my skin.

Content with the information I've given him, he leans back, turning back to the show - and certainly not to his newfound crush.

...

I do the same.

The song is just about to end, and another is just about to start. This next one got more bite to it, slowly segwaying towards a lighter kind of rock. I bob my head along to the rhythm, while simultaneously taking the time to examine Fang.

Dad can have Trish if he wants her so much. But for Fang, however, I still care...

She doesn't look all that different from what I remember. Pretty much the same getup, with the absence of her choker and spiky head-crest thing. And her jeans aren't ripped.

In essence, she looks like herself, but more mature.

Which is... Good? I think.

I'm not actually sure when she went through these changes. Probably not in the two weeks I've spent in Japan. That's definitely not large enough a timeframe for such things to happen.

No, it must have taken months. I was just, uh, way too busy with Reeda to really care to notice.

...

Kinda throws a wrench in the statement 'I care about Fang', huh? But I mean, I do, it's... Uh...

Well... We broke up.

It wasn't MY job to care for her anymore.

...

Doesn't matter.

I'm just glad she's doing better.

Sure it would have been cool if I, personally, could've helped her get there. But I shouldn't consider it a loss that I didn't. I'm only here se we can get closure, make amends. If not for her, then for my own sake. Thinking about could-have-been's will do no damn good to anyone.

And so, I lay back in my seat, content with simply enjoying the show for what it is.

 

* * *

 

If only it was so simple... But dab in the middle of the very next song, my phone goes off.

And it's only then that I realize, I totally forgot to mute it. Dad arrived pretty much at the same time the T-Rex guy told us to do it, and he surprised me so much that...

Whatever.

Panicking, I struggle to fish the device from my pocket and shut off Guile's theme. In the meantime I'm not sure if I should be going pale, or bright red. Maybe both?

I can see heads turning my way now. Though what's worse, in my clumsiness it's taking my sweaty hands so long to grab the stupid phone that it's ringing even louder now, drowning out the music.

SHITFUCK

One quick glance at the stage and I can clearly see Fang and Trish faltering. They try to keep going, but I sure as shit just ruined their roll.

FUCK

THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING

WHY NOW

My heart is beating so fast, I'm certain I'm gonna get a fucking stroke any second now. And everything was going so well...!

...

Once I FINALLY manage to get my shit together and pull the phone out, with great relief, I'm just about to decline the call. Except...

It's from Reeda--

--'s mother.

And I need a double take to process it. But once I do, instantly, I'm filled with dread.

There's just NO FUCKING WAY I'm not picking up.

I rise from my seat as I awkwardly - and maybe a bit too loudly - apologize to everyone around me, and stumble to the men's toilet.

This time around I step on many-a-toe and kick about half a dozen chairs and tables, and I even manage to almost knock over a speaker right next to the door. But I just don't care.

...

Soon as I'm sitting on the porcelain throne, I answer the phone. The mere fact that it's been ringing for so long as it did means the person on the other end REALLY wanted to reach me.

[Anon]
"H-Hello?"

[Reeda's mother]
"An...?"

[Anon]
"Yheauh?"

Fuck. I can't hear shit...

Who the fuck thought it'd be a good idea to put a boombox right next to the fucking bathroom?

[Anon]
"It's me. Anon!"

[Reeda's mother]
"...non?"

[Reeda's mother]
"...sorry... ...can't hear...!"

Oh, that's just great.

[Anon]
"YEAH IT'S ME!"

[Reeda's mother]
"Anon I... ...news!"

I really can't tell if she's heard me or not.

But I think she said she has some news for me?

[Anon]
"NEWS?"

[Reeda's mother]
"...ws!"

...

[Anon]
"WHAT NEWS?"

[Reeda's mother]
"Reeda is..."

[Anon]
"WHAT?"

[Reeda's mother]
"Reeda... ...in... ...tal!"

Jesus R. Christ I'm getting fucking mad.

[Anon]
"WHAT?!"

As if by some miracle, the song playing outside ends, and I can finally hear something.

But I wish I couldn't.

[Reeda's mother]
"REEDA IS IN THE HOSPITAL!"

The words echo in my mind.

Reeda. Reeda is in the. The hospital. In the hospital.

Reeda is in the hospital.

...

The blood in my veins turn to ice, and I need to concentrate on not dropping the phone.

Cause yeah. With the thoughts zipping around in head at twice the speed of light, I can put one and two together fucking fast.

Her new hobby seeking danger.

Her new friends.

Her "awesomely cool" thing.

[Anon]
"...What did she do?"

I really, really don't want to hear it.

I don't want to ruin this evening more than I need to, listening to some stupid shit Reeda did that landed her IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL.

But I can't not... She's my girlfriend, after all.

[Reeda's mother]
"Reeda, she's--"

[Reeda's mother]
"Anon, dear, I--"

[Reeda's mother]
"The-The d-doctors are saying--"

I'm just about to think now how little I like this new tentative tone she's speaking in.

But I can't even finish the thought as she drops the bomb on me.

[Reeda's mother]
"--She might not make it through the night."

 

* * *

 

*plink*

*plink*

*plink*

The sounds of little droplets of water collecting somewhere close by. It's all I can hear through the ringing in my ears.

I feel disoriented. Not sure where I am right now.

Wherever it is, though, it stinks.

...A toilet?

There's a door in front of me, muffled voices coming from it's other side. But I can't make them out.

Then there's another one, booming right into my ear. Yet it sounds like it's coming from so far away, and I can't understand a word.

Pressure is building up in my head too, as if all the blood in my body suddenly rushed up there.

Did someone drug me? What's going on?

I think I'm gonna be sick.

The voice tries again, and this time I can at least tell it's a female voice.

And that it's coming from my phone.

Then all at once, as if someone pressed the play button and time started flowing again, reality comes crashing down on me.

[Reeda's mother]
"Anon? Are you there?"

Fuck.

...FUCK!

Reeda is in the fucking hospital! In critical fucking condition!

Is she fucking going to fucking die?!

...

Like... That's just not fucking fair. And I feel like a fucking asshole for even fucking thinking that.

I just mean... Really? REALLY?! NOW?! Couldn't she at least WAIT till I got back?

So maybe I could... I dunno, hold her hand? Talk to her? See her? ...Not on the inside of a fucking coffin?!

But no. She just HAS TO bite the dust while I'm here in fucking--

I kick the door.

And again.

And once more for good measure, and then again. And again, and again, and again...

I don't stop until the pain in my toes and ankles becomes too much to endure, upon which I switch to bashing my phone against the wall.

I'm probably shattering its screen in the process, and fucking up the electronics inside. But I so do not fucking care about that.

It's all this stupid fucking thing's fault, anyway!

If I didn't have it--

If only I was normal enough to mute it--

If only--

Then I wouldn't KNOW! I wouldn't NEED to face this reality. I could pretend it's all good.

That there's someone out there waiting for me. Someone who loves me.

But OH NO!

All I fucking had in this shit fucking world, and still it's taken away from me.

FUCKING STUPID JUNKIE ASSHOLE REEDA DON'T YOU DARE TO FUCKING DIE ON ME

Fiddling around with the latch on the door for what seems way too long, I burst from the bathroom. And immediately, I fall facefirst into the speaker there. ...Who could have guessed that mushing your feet into fine paste against a door means you won't be able to walk on it?

To make things worse, as I blunder forward hurdling on the floor next to the heavy black box, I collide into someone. Someone who just happens to be an Italian T-Rex, carrying a gigantic meatlovers' pizza.

Normally, with the sheer difference in our weights, I don't think he'd even notice me bumping into him. But with the momentum I had built up - and accompanied by the speaker -, I actually manage to get him off his feet.

Which, of course, sends the oversized pizza on a special aerial mission to tactically carpet-bomb the closest tables, and to paint a greasy-cheesy landscape on the sharply dressed office lady sitting there.

It's a masterpiece in disaster.

But I don't care one bit.

All through the screams and yelling around me, my only goal is to make it out the door.

Very disrespectfully using the T-Rex's huge head to help myself back on my feet, I get a move on as fast as I can.

One step... Two steps...

And then, naturally, I booty-check another table.

I crash into its wooden frame with all my weight, sending it forward and scraping against the floor loudly, knocking over basically everyone around it. Including myself.

Chairs are falling like dominoes now, people yelling and getting out of their seats all over the place. And I just now notice that the music has cut off, too, Trish and Fang looking in terror at the spectacle unfolding in front of them.

Someone tries to shine the floodlight over the crowd, but all they achieve is adding more chaos to the scene, bright breams of lighting flashing all over the place.

And here I am, sitting on the ground in the middle of it all. And my foot fucking hurts.

Did I actually break bones kicking the--?

DOESN'T MATTER

MOVE FUCKFACE

Gritting my teeth, I scramble to stand again.

From the corner of my eyes I can see Dad's black suit, his collection of pretzel dust now embroidered with pieces of bacon. But it's just for a brief second, though, till I lurch - limp - ahead, towards the door.

I don't know what expression he's making. I'm afraid to, too.

Cause, yeah... I'm doing it. Again. The thing I've been doing. ALL. MY. LIFE.

I couldn't go one day without making a mess of things.

He didn't deserve this.

He didn't deserve having a retard like me as a son.

He didn't need to drive all this way just for me to embarrass him in front of all these people.

He didn't need to push Mom away for my sake.

And... I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Dad.

But even if you'll disown me for real now...

Reeda matters more.

...

Meanwhile, I've made it to the door.

Stopping to catch my breath, I listen to the sounds of pandemonium I'm leaving behind.

Wood and metal grinding against eachother.

People shouting indistinctly.

There's Naser shouting something.

Rosa shouting something.

Trish shouting something.

Fang shouting something.

Dad shouting something.

That T-Rex guy a-shoutin' a-somethin'.

Listening to them, for a mere second I contemplate if I should stay. If I'm making a huge mistake right now.

Do I really want to leave like this? Hurting every single person I thought I came here to make up with? And for what?

Even if I make it to Japan, I'm no doctor. What could I possibly--

NO. STOP THINKING!

MOVE YOU IDIOT! MOVE! IT'S ABOUT REEDA!

YOU'RE NOT GONNA LET HER SLIP AWAY!

YOU DID IT ONCE!

YOU'LL DO IT AGAIN!

Clenching my jaw to subdue the pain as I put my injured foot forward, I slink through the door.

Stumbling, with one hand on the wall to keep myself upright, I force my body to move.

But I don't make it far.

 

* * *

 

[???]
"Gotcha!"

Strong arms grab into my shirt from behind.

Soon after, I'm put into a chokehold. One that I fight to escape, but just can't.

[Anon]
"Let me--! LET GO OF ME!"

[Anon]
"I NEED TO--!"

[???]
"Whoah! Calm down there, s--!"

[Anon]
"LET"

[Anon]
"ME"

[Anon]
"G--"

In the middle of the last syllable the person behind me kicks my feet from under me, and I fall like a fucking log.

My forehead connects with the concrete, teeth clinking together by the force of the impact.

...

Ow...

That. Hurt.

...

I think there's blood in my mouth too.

...

Just who the fuck does this asshole think he is?

Hissing through the pain I turn onto my back, and face...

[Anon]
"...Dad?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but there's not enough time.

Behind him, people spew forth onto the street. In varying degrees of being covered with pizza toppings and bruises.

The first one to reach us is Trish.

[Trish]
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"

She shoves Dad aside with hilariously little effort, tiny trigger towering over me like rage incarnate.

[Trish]
"YOU--"

[Trish]
"--ASSHOLE!"

To emphasize her point, she digs her heel square into my abdomen.

[Anon]
"GUH"

[Trish]
"You ruined it!"

[Trish]
"You ruined it all!"

Again and again she kicks me, much the same way I treated the poor door back there.

Up until the rest of the gang reach her and drag her away. It takes the combined effort of both Rosa and Naomi to keep the little trigga at bay. And barely at that. Stella tries to join them as well, but with Trish trashing around in her state of berserk, she can't find an opening.

Eventually Fang and Naser show up too. The latter of which too preoccupied trying to calm down the rest of the guests, it's only Fang who cares to see me.

She seems unsure what to do, trying to take the whole scene in. At first it looks like she's going after Trish - to help her break free maybe? The two of them could probably bludgeon me into oblivion rather fast.

In the end, however, Fang jogs up to me.

She opens and closes her mouth multiple times, like a fish out of water.

[Fang]
"A-Anon...?"

[Fang]
"What's going on?! Why would you...?"

Her voice is shaky, clearly agitated. As if she's doing her best not to shout.

But to answer her question... I... I don't even know anymore.

[Anon]
"Ugh..."

Cradling my stomach with one hand and propping myself up with the other, I sit up. As much as I can.

My whole body aches. I feel like a failure. And I just don't know what to say.

Behind Fang I see Dad pulling himself together, dusting off his suit and stuff. I didn't even notice, but it appears Trish tripped him as well, besides shoving him into the wall.

Off to the side, in the middle of the whole damn street now, the brawl is still going strong. Poor Stella is nursing her short snout some ways from the others, seemingly on the verge of tears.

Wow. I really did just fuck everything up, didn't I? I fucked up bad.

[Fang]
"Well... Yeah?"

[Fang]
"But why, Anon? What IS going ON?"

Huh?

Wait. Don't even tell me.

[Anon]
"Was I...?"

[Dad]
"You were."

With Fang we both turn to Dad as he steps up to us.

He doesn't bother introducing himself, but I guess Fang can figure out who he is regardless.

I mean, we are the only two cue-ball headed skinnies for a mile wide radius, probably.

[Anon]
"..."

I sigh, finally accepting the situation.

I'm... Not seeing Reeda. Not today, and probably never again.

The obviousness of that fact pains me more than any other hurt I'm suffering right now.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I bury my face in them, in a pointless bid to escape from this reality.

Everything is wrong.

Everything.

For all I know, Reeda might already be dead. And to honor her final hours, what did I do?

I acted like a spaz, like I always have, without a single rational thought in my head.

If only I could have acted like a normal person, like the adult I'm supposed to turn into, all of this could have been avoided. Maybe then I could have fixed things with Reeda too, previous to me coming here.

Before she died, did she think about me? About the asshole who couldn't even be happy for her being herself? Did she forgive me?

The way I acted today, I don't think I deserve it. I don't deserve to be alive either.

If I could switch places with her right now, I would so do it.

Wouldn't that be better for everyone? If I died? If I was never born?

I want to just simply disappear.

My tears are flowing heavily by now. And I feel all the more pathetic for it.

How do I have the courtesy to cry, when it was me who fucked it all up?

In front of Fang and Dad, nonetheless. The two people on the planet whom I have probably hurt the most.

I hope they'll just go away. Leave me be.

But they don't.

I hear clothes shuffling, and I feel the heat of a body next to mine. Then a hand is placed on my shoulder. It's slim and not at all brutish like Dad's is.

[Fang]
"What happened?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Fang]
"Don't you think you owe me an explanation after wrecking my show?"

...

Fuck, she's right. But I just...

[Anon]
"...Wh-Why do you even care?"

[Anon]
"Just call the cops on me, and be done with it."

That's right. I don't even care anymore. Here or in Japan, or in a jail cell... I don't care.

All that mattered to my life is GONE. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Arrest me, let me rot in prison, and at then least I'll have a place to call home.

...

For a brief moment, Fang's hand on my shoulder tenses up. Then she removes it all together.

Cause yeah... Guess she doesn't care after all. And I mean like, why would she?

I left her. Then Reeda left her. We're not friends. Simple as that.

And I did just ruin her big concert, so there's that too.

...

There are more noises, coming from my other side this time.

It's Dad voice I hear now. From right next to me.

[Dad]
"I care."

[Dad]
"Well, uh... I mean, I don't."

[Dad]
"But YOU do."

[Dad]
"Look, I don't know what's going on right now, but I can guess. And I know you didn't want my advice, but here it is anyway."

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"There's not one good thing you told me about this Reeda girl."

[Dad]
"From what I can tell, she's nothing but trouble."

[Dad]
"If you stick with her, your life is gonna suck."

[Dad]
"A lot."

[Dad]
"Like it does, right now."

At this point, I can hear Fang sucking the air in between her teeth, irritated. She's probably not very keen on listening to this asshole shittalking one of her former friends.

And yeah. Wow. Geez... Thanks Dad! That's really what I needed to hear right now.

What do I care if she dies? Right? She's nothing but a junkie, isn't she?

I've been having all these doubts anyway.

Well, now I'm free!

[Dad]
"But."

Huh?

[Dad]
"Look..."

[Dad]
"Just because you or I can't understand her, that doesn't mean she's a lost cause."

[Dad]
"She loves you, doesn't she?"

[Dad]
"The things she's been doing... They're bad."

[Dad]
"But... Hey."

He places his hand on top of my bald head.

It feels weird, but... It also feels good.

[Dad]
"Junior, it took us, what? Twelve years, to figure it out?"

[Dad]
"I know I've been very distant from you all this time."

[Dad]
"And I'm sorry for that. More than you can imagine."

[Dad]
"But I've rather had you being you, doing what you think is important, even if I didn't understand it."

[Dad]
"Even if it hurt me to see you away in your own little world, with no way for me to reach you there, well..."

[Dad]
"Seeing you be happy... That made me happy too."

[Dad]
"In hindsight, I could have tried harder. I could have been a better father to you."

[Dad]
"I should have."

[Dad]
"I just didn't want to risk hurting you."

[Dad]
"Cause this way, I mean... At least you were still part of my life."

[Dad]
"And I couldn't be more happy for that."

...Shit.

Oh God dammit. Yup, there go the fucking waterworks again.

I... I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to feel, let alone say about any of that.

I feel warm inside, and yet I'm more confused than anything. Why is he telling me this, now?

I raise my head, somehow putting a stop to the tears.

[Anon]
"D-Dad..."

[Anon]
"Wha..."

My head is gently turned to the other side by another pair of hands.

Fang, whom I've already forgotten was there, forcing me to look into her amber eyes.

[Fang]
"Anon, your father is right."

[Fang]
"I have no idea what set you off like that just now, but I'm not gonna have you sit on the ground crying after crashing my show."

[Fang]
"You know how long it took to even find the--"

[Fang]
"Ugh, nevermind..."

[Fang]
"But if it's about Reeda, and if you love her, then you can't just..."

[Fang]
"No matter what, okay?!"

[Fang]
"Like... I don't know what's going on between the two of you."

[Fang]
"But she's my friend."

[Fang]
"And... And you are too."

[Fang]
"Look, I know you guys tried to hide your relationship and all, I dunno, to spare me the pain? Or maybe you were afraid of what I might think?"

[Fang]
"But I knew. It was obvious you that loved her, and that she loved you."

[Fang]
"And seeing you two be together, be happy..."

[Fang]
"It hurt."

[Fang]
"It hurt, because I wanted that happiness for myself. And I couldn't have it."

[Fang]
"And I just... I didn't get it!"

[Fang]
"What made it so different for you two?!"

[Fang]
"Why couldn't you and I...?!"

Her hands ball into fists, and for a second I'm afraid she'll hit me.

[Anon]
"F-Fang...?"

But she doesn't.

Fang sighs, closing her eyes and turning away from me. But still, I keep looking straight at her.

There's anger and pain written across her face. Mixed with... A smile? How can anyone have so many emotions at once?

I don't understand it. I don't understand anything anymore.

[Fang]
"But it didn't matter."

[Fang]
"Because it made me realize something."

[Fang]
"I can wish for things to be better all day."

[Fang]
"But it's up to me to make that happen."

[Fang]
"Maybe if we were a little more mature, things could have worked us between us."

[Fang]
"But you were just a stupid boy."

[Fang]
"And I was just a stupid girl."

She stands up, looking down at me from above.

[Fang]
"With Reeda, you have your chance."

[Fang]
"Maybe she's a stupid girl too."

[Fang]
"Maybe."

[Fang]
"I don't know."

[Fang]
"But are you going to be a stupid boy again? Hm?"

[Fang]
"Are you going to wait for someone else to fix things?"

[Fang]
"Are you going to let it fall apart?"

[Fang]
"Huh?"

[Fang]
"...Dweeb?"

[Anon]
"I-I..."

I don't know.

After listening to them, after all these emotional speeches, I feel like I just simply owe it to them to do the right thing. If they're this invested in helping me, how dare I not succeed?

I owe it to Reeda more than anyone else, too.

But if I could do that, we wouldn't be in this situation now, would we?

I don't know how to be normal.

I don't know how to be an adult.

I don't even know what the right thing IS!

I just... I need help. I turn to Dad again, shameful as it is to ask him for a favor yet again--

--but he doesn't hear me out.

Seeing him stand up next to Fang, fear takes over the warm feeling inside me.

I'm afraid he'll leave me. That they both will.

That I'll have to face the world alone. Again.

I watch with despair as they nod to eachother, about something I can't even understand.

They both reach a hand towards me, smiling as they do. And at first I don't get it.

But then... I do.

They want nothing else, but to help me get back on my feet. In all possible meanings of the phrase.

My lips tremble and I feel like I'm about to cry again. Biting the inside of my cheek I soldier through it for once. Truly my greatest accomplishment today.

Still...

There's Dad, telling me that my past isn't something I should be running from. That yes, I'm not the greatest person to ever exist. I'm flawed. I'm damaged. But that doesn't mean I'm not worth caring about.

And then there's Fang, telling me my future is in MY hands. And mine alone. I'll have to find my own strength, walk my own path. That I can't give up.

With their help, I think I've finally understood something else, too.

Ever since I got back from Japan, I've been searching for a place to call my home. And I just couldn't find it.

That fact alone made me feel more miserable than, well, a great many things. I can't even begin to quantify all my issues in this instant.

But right now, I get it. This one thing at least.

Home isn't a about physical location. It isn't some magical abode you step into that makes everything fine.

Home doesn't exist, not unless you make it, not unless you have that small piece of the world that you carved out for yourself. The culmination of everything you are.

Home is... Where the heart is, so they say.

And that certainly is true, IF you feel comfortable in your own skin.

So no wonder I couldn't find it, when any place I go to I also haul my problems with me. And problems only.

But if I want to have a home, my very OWN home, then I'll have to get my head out of my ass, stop with all this crybaby shit, and fucking make it.

Then... THEN... I can think about the inclusion of Reeda within my little chunk of reality. And just what kind of Reeda is even eligible for being there.

But until then, until I'm no more than some unshapen wreckage caught up in the streams of time, it's all about figuring myself out. And that starts with deciding if I'm really ready to give up on Reeda now. Now.

Right here, and right now.

...

And you know what? Fuck if I am!

Thanks to Fang and Dad, I think I can just might pull it off.

Taking their hands, their faith, their goodwill; connecting past, present, and future; even if it hurts to do so...

I stand again.

 

* * *

 

[Trish]
"I'M GOING TO FUCKING MURDER HIM!"

Not one second later than me getting up on my feet, the loud shriek of a furious trigger reverberates through the street. Trish has fought off all her assailants, and is now coming for me with a vengeance.

Instinctively I flinch, feeling totally defenseless. There's nothing I can do but watch as she closes in on me, anger burning in her eyes.

Except at the very last minute the tiny trike disappears, her place taken by pair of gray, feathery wings.

[Fang]
"That's enough, Trish. Stop it!"

[Trish]
"Let me at him! I'll skin him alive! And then I'll--"

[Fang]
"Trish, stop."

[Trish]
"--skin his skin and--"

[Fang]
"I SAID STOP!"

Fang's wings open up, spreading across my entire field of view. There's a loud "thump" noise, and enough drag to lift my shirt even.

Feels like everyone in the street suddenly just shut up, each and every head turning our way.

It's a glorious visage with feathers flowing through the air in all directions, but one and confuses me also.

Why would Fang do this? I know, I know she wants me to keep going, but why would she risk her friendship with Trish like this? Especially considering that I deserve very well what's coming to me.

I can't see much over Fang's wings, but it seems Trish shares my sentiment exactly.

[Trish]
"Fang, you're--"

[Trish]
"You? Defending HIM? YOU?!"

[Trish]
"Why would you DO THAT?!"

[Trish]
"He's-- He's--"

[Fang]
"Yes, I'm defending him."

[Fang]
"Because Anon is OUR FRIEND, if you recall! This is NOT how you treat a friend."

[Trish]
"A FRIEND? HIM?!"

[Trish]
"Fang, you cannot be serious!"

[Trish]
"After all that he's done, after all the ways he had hurt you, and--"

[Fang]
"Yes, he did hurt me."

[Fang]
"And he hurt you too."

[Fang]
"But he's here now, isn't he?"

[Fang]
"At least HE wanted to make things right."

[Fang]
"That's more than I can say about you!"

Wow, I can't believe what I'm hearing.

I mean, technically speaking Fang is absolutely correct. I DID come here to apologize and all. I didn't have to, but still, I came.

But why would Fang go to such lenghts to--

[Trish]
"Fang, you..."

[Trish]
"Are you seriously gonna choose him over me?!"

[Fang]
"I'm not trying to choose, Trish!"

[Fang]
"I don't want to lose either of you! Don't you get it?"

[Fang]
"I listened to you about Reeda, and look where that got us."

[Fang]
"I've already lost one friend, and I'm not gonna let that happen again."

[Trish]
"Reeda? Seriously?"

[Trish]
"You mean that bitch who stole your boyfriend, and then threw us away like fucking garbage?"

[Trish]
"The vapid cunt that left us, and wouldn't even call ONCE?!"

[Trish]
"Not one call, not one message? Like fuck us small town hicks, right? She's got glooorious Japan now, with her oh so lovey-dovey skinnie of a boyfriend?"

[Trish]
"Yeah, you can be God damn sure I don't want HER in my life!"

Okay, I guess this is the point where I step in...

Gently pushing Fang aside, I move to face Trish proper.

Wiping the last of my tears away, I try to appear as manly and adult-like as I just can. I came here to apologize, to put things right, so by God that's what I'll be doing.

[Anon]
"Hello, Trish."

She doesn't immediately gore me on the spot, instead content with giving me a defiant death glare. And... That's as good as it will get, I suppose.

Alright, now how do I say this...?

[Anon]
"Man, you really know how to throw a punch huh?"

[Trish]
"Oh fuck you, skinnie!"

[Fang]
"Trish!"

Fang hisses, already moving in to get between Trish and me again. I hold out an arm though, stopping her.

[Anon]
"It's fine, Fang."

[Anon]
"Trish is right."

Turning back to Trish, this time I step so close to her that she actually backs away, a confused expression appearing on her face.

[Trish]
"W-What are you--"

I take a deep breath, trying to get through this with the least amount of autism I can produce.

[Anon]
"I'm sorry."

[Anon]
"I'm sorry that I stole your phone."

[Anon]
"And I'm sorry that I ruined this show for you guys."

[Anon]
"And I'm sorry if I hurt you."

[Anon]
"I know you hate me Trish, and believe me the feeling is mutual."

[Anon]
"But I really AM sorry."

My hands curl up into fists, angry at myself and at the whole world that I have to go on for as long as I am, listing all the things I've done wrong when what I really should be doing is getting on a fucking plane already.

[Anon]
"But this isn't about ME."

[Anon]
"This isn't about any of us, Trish!"

[Anon]
"This is about Reeda!"

[Anon]
"Do you truly not care about her? Do you?"

[Anon]
"Wanna know where she is, Trish? Huh? Wanna know where Reeda is RIGHT NOW?"

Grabbing Trish's shoulders I look her straight in the eye, forcing her to listen to every single word.

[Anon]
"She's in the hospital and she's gonna die! Don't you get it?!"

[Anon]
"She's hurt, she's alone, and soon, she'll be GONE."

I hear surprised yelps and gasps from all over the crowd, but I don't stop to look around.

[Anon]
"THAT's why I need to go!"

[Anon]
"THAT's why I MUST see her! Trish! Don't you--"

Slapping my hands away Trish grabs into my shirt, pulling me down. The vicious snarl on her face is one I haven't seen yet. And for the first time ever, I'm actually afraid of her.

I used to joke about Trish goring me, often, but now it doesn't even seem like an exaggeration.

[Trish]
"I DON'T CARE!"

[Trish]
"I don't CARE about any of your crybaby shit, or HERS!"

[Trish]
"Aww boo-hoo, she threw us away to have you? And she expected that to go well?"

[Trish]
"I'm-- I'm--"

[Trish]
"I'm GLAD she's dead! U-Understand?! You hear me?! I'm--"

[Trish]
"She--"

[Trish]
"R-Reeda--"

From this close, I can see the sparkling tears collect in Trish's eyes, her words caught in her throat as her tough girl facade drops.

Her tiny shoulders shaking as rage fights loyalty, vengeance battling with the friendship inside her.

I honestly never knew Reeda stopped talking with her friends altogether, and I certainly wouldn't have thought she'd do that out of consideration for me.

I've definitely never told her to--

GUHH

Stars explode in front of my eyes as a trigger's rough, scaled fist connects to my face. The force of the impact sends me reeling backwards - or rather it would, were it not for Trish's hold on my jacket.

I go weak at the knees too, thoroughly dizzied by the blow.

[Trish]
"Fuck YOU, Anon!"

[Trish]
"You take Reeda away from me, and then you dare come to me with this shit? You parade back here trying to act like it's all about you?!"

[Trish]
"And you don't even have the gall to ASK US FOR HELP? THAT YOU CLEARLY NEED?!"

[Trish]
"FUCK!"

[Trish]
"YOU!"

With a shove Trish finally lets go of me, and it takes me just as much effort to stay standing as to make sense of her words.

Help? Ask them for help?

The thought honestly never even occurred to me, at least certainly not before Fang came to my aid. But now, though...

Firmly standing my ground I straighten my back, and pull Trish who's already turned to Fang back to me. She's practically trembling with fury that I presumed to touch her again, instead of me committing seppuku on the spot.

Even Fang looks at me with concern now, and I'm not sure anymore how much of that is for what she just heard about Reeda and me, and for me pushing my luck with Trish.

[Anon]
"So will you help me?"

[Trish]
"What?!"

[Anon]
"Will."

[Anon]
"You."

[Anon]
"Help."

[Anon]
"Me?"

There's no answer, not right away. Trish is looking at me totally dumbfounded, as if lightning struck her, her rage overtaken by confusion in a matter of seconds.

Blinking profusely and with eyes darting back and forth as she inspects my face, she's so still and silent that all I can hear is her raspy breathing.

It's all dancing on the edge of a blade now, a coin tossed up in the air that's just about to land.

From the corner of my eyes I see Fang, Dad, Stella, Rosa, and all the rest of them stepping closer too. On their faces are all sorts of emotions. Some of them I can already tell want to help me. Some show their concern but are unsure themselves, and some are waiting on Trish's judgment to make their own.

Feels good to know I have at least some people in my corner now, that I'll have someone to rely on. And if nothing else, at least this one thing I can say about Volcadera Bluffs. That even if it isn't truly my home, I still have people who care about me here.

This thought alone is enough to steel my resolve, and I look back at Trish now with absolute certainty in my eyes. I care about Reeda, and I WILL see her.

The question is... Does Trish?

 

* * *

 

Trish sighs, letting her head drop. But only for a moment.

[Trish]
"So what are you still waiting for, you big stupid monkey? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

She looks up at me again, and, well... She's far from being happy, but the fierce anger is gone from her face as well. Not the contempt, though, but I guess I'll just have to live with that.

In all honestly it fills me with hope so much that I find myself smiling, almost.

That is until Trish punches me in the stomach again, albeit way softer than before, as if only to emphasize her message.

[Trish]
"But you BETTER fucking tell me what you did to Reeda, and it BETTER not happen again! Got that?"

[Anon]
"Geez, okay, okay..."

Rubbing my stomach I step back, letting out a breath of relief.

Although I may appear calm on the outside now, my insides are burning up like hellfire. There's only one thing on my mind, and that is getting to Reeda. The same way I felt back in the pizza parlor's bathroom a few minutes ago, I just SO wanna get out of here, I wanna do something, I wanna--

My train of thought is interrupted as all the rest of the gang rushes up to us, all of them trying to talk over the others, asking me all sorts of questions about Reeda and what happened to her, about what I will do now, and about what they could do to help me.

Only one stays back, looking at me over the kaleidoscope of heads and limbs and tails and wings.

I'm not sure what pride must look like on a father's face - an emotion I haven't seen in my life -, but I think it must be close to what I'm seeing right now.

What was it he said? That he never understood me and my world?

Well, I suppose I'll just have to show him military grade autism the likes of which he's never seen before.

 

* * *

 

Clapping my hands together loudly and clearing my throat, I address the gathering of people around me.

While my mind is abuzz with thoughts about Reeda, unlike the way I burst forth from the toilet before, this time I do have an actual honest-to-God plan. It's been put together in the last ten seconds, sure, but it's more than nothing, I suppose.

...

First I point at Stella, the one of the bunch I know uses the Internet just as much as I do, and should have the necessary skills for the part she'll play in the plan.

[Anon]
"Your phone. Flights to Japan. Look 'em up!"

[Stella]
"Hai!"

Next, I turn to Naomi, the person I know will see any task through, expert at her vile woman's skills and armed with the ability to make just about anyone do her bidding.

[Anon]
"A cab. Get one. Here, now. I don't care what it takes, just do it!"

Not even waiting for Naomi's answer, from her I turn to Fang.

And now this is where it's gonna get batshit fucking insane.

[Anon]
"Fang, your--"

For a second I hesitate, having to take a moment to process just what I'm about to say, and just who it is I'm talking to.

[Anon]
"Fang. Your father. He's a police captain or whatever, right? He's an important person?"

[Fang]
"Um, yeah?"

[Anon]
"How important?"

Fang opens her mouth for an answer but no words come out. Instead it's Naser, who's stepped closer in the meantime, that responds.

[Naser]
"How important? What do you mean?"

[Anon]
"Like what kinda favors can he call in? He has friends, right?"

[Naser]
"Anon, I don't--"

Whatever he was about to say, Stella and Rosa interrupts him, shoving Stella's phone into my face.

[Rosa]
"An-on this is no good. The only plane today leaves in less than thirty minutes!"

[Anon]
"Buy the ticket. I'll pay you back later."

[Stella]
"But Anon, we'll never make it in time!"

Oh, I know we won't.

That's fine, though. It's all going according to plan.

All or nothing, baby.

[Anon]
"Do it!"

[Anon]
"And Naser, you call your Dad!"

[Naser]
"Call my-- Anon, he'll kick my butt if I disturb him like that, and--"

[Fang]
"Oh shut it, you wimp!"

[Fang]
"Anon, what do you need?"

[Anon]
"I need him to--"

Aw shit, here we go...

[Anon]
"I need him to stop the plane."

The resounding "WHAT" around me is deafening, all eyes fixated on me.

And I don't blame them.

What I'm asking is basically impossible. There's just NO WAY someone could stop a plane, police chief or no. But what choice do I have?

I have to see Reeda. I. HAVE. TO.

[Naser]
"Anon, this is crazy. Even if--"

Shutting Naser up again, Fang steps forward. She looks me hard in the eye, placing a hand on my arm.

[Fang]
"Leave it to me."

I gulp and nod, it being the only response I can produce.

After watching Fang drag Naser away so they can make the call I turn to Naomi, asking her about the cab situation.

True to herself, she's got not one but three cars coming to get us. And they'll be here momentarily.

I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. I'm only just noticing, but my hands are getting a little shaky.

I'm taking a lot of risk doing this. We all are. And it'll have to work like clockwork, too.

I just hope it'll work. Especially because now, it's time for the next phase.

Pushing through the crowd of dinosaurs around me, I walk up to Dad. He seems amused, clearly enjoying the show.

[Dad]
"How are we doing?"

[Anon]
"I don't know. But I gotta try, right?"

[Dad]
"..."

[Dad]
"I'm proud of you, Anon. Whatever happens, I wanted you to know that."

[Anon]
"Thanks, Dad."

We share a moment, standing here in the - relative - calm of the eye of the storm, before reality catches up to us again.

[Dad]
"So, do I get something to do, or should I just watch?"

[Anon]
"Oh don't worry. I've got something for you."

[Dad]
"Is that so? Well son, don't you hold back on your old man."

A lopsided grin crawls onto my face, and from the corner of my eyes I look at Trish.

So far I haven't given the little trigga a task, part because I wanted her to feel useless as a form of childish payback, and part because I have very special plans for her talent at destruction.

[Anon]
"Alright Dad, what I want you to do is to take your new girlfriend, go to the airport, and..."

The rest I whisper into his ear, just to make sure Trish won't hear. It wouldn't necessarily be a problem if she did, as far as the plan goes, but I don't want to ruin Dad's game - so to speak.

By the time I'm finished Dad shares the same grin that I've got going on, raising an eyebrow.

[Dad]
"That's bold."

[Anon]
"I didn't think that'd be a problem for you."

[Dad]
"Ha! You thought right."

We shake on it all man-to-man-like, then I step aside, motioning a "go ahead" towards Trish.

And Dad wastes not a second to set the plan into motion.

[Dad]
"Hey, darlin'...!"

I tactically tune out of the rest. There are absolutely no doubts in my mind that a con-man and a trigger will see their part through.

Around the same time the two of them round the corner and get out of my sight, a triad of taxis roll up. Naomi and the gang wave them down, and immediately they start filling up the seats.

All except for Fang and her little brother, the two of them too busy with a heated phone conversation to have noticed.

I run up to them, flinging my hands all around in the air to get their attention.

[Fang]
"--don't care if--"

[Fang]
"No but I--"

[Naser]
"It's not that--"

All I can hear from the other end of the line are grunts and various muffled up sounds, but even then it's clear that whoever is talking is more than a little agitated.

I suppose that happens when you're a cop and you're being asked to stop a fucking plane. Let alone to do it for the disgrace of a skinnie that banged your daughter.

Although I haven't, actually, but as father I'd assume that too.

Regardless, I take Fang and Naser by their arms, dragging them to the only cab still here. The others must already have taken off towards the airport.

 

* * *

 

The ride itself is nothing short of an absolute disaster. And I have to salute the cab guy for not throwing us out after the first corner we round.

Several minutes of constant shouting, cursing at the phone, and screaming obscenities at the world in general. Unfortunately, however, even after all that it looked like Fang's father simply wouldn't budge. He just wouldn't do anything.

Sitting here listening to them fight, all I could do was to hope Trish and Dad had more luck than we do. My original intention was that they would only serve as a plan B, were things to go south, but now it's starting to seem like plan B is fast becoming plan A.

That is, until Fang gets an idea of her own.

Stopping the taxi at a random alleyway she basically shoves us out of the car, then, after paying the cab guy she hands Naser the phone, ordering him to call in a bomb threat.

And... I'm fucking astounded. Suddenly my idea of a police officer calling in a favor sounds quite down to earth. But a bomb threat? Raptor Jesus...

To nobody's surprise, Naser refuses.

He refuses and refuses, all up until the point Fang just says fuck it and that she'll do it herself. It felt uncomfortable forcing Naser to do something like this, but then again I saw no other option either... At least he was smart enough to go find a payphone, and not use his own mobile.

With Fang we watch him jog down the street and off into the distance, too high on adrenalin to immediately realize...

...I'm all alone with my ex-girlfriend now.

[Fang]
"You know, I did this once before."

[Anon]
"What? You're serious?"

[Anon]
"You called in a bomb threat on an airplane?"

[Fang]
"Nah, it was the school."

[Fang]
"I wanted to ruin some shitshow Naomi had planned so she could become ball queen or whatever the damn thing was about."

[Anon]
"Oh..."

[Anon]
"And how did it go?"

[Fang]
"Spears figured out it was me and I got put on garden beautification for three months straight."

[Anon]
"Wow."

[Fang]
"But hey, it worked!"

[Anon]
"Really?"

[Fang]
"Yeah, Naomi never got her crown."

[Anon]
"Uh-huh, so... Do you think it'll work now? You think he'll do it?"

[Fang]
"Naser? Oh, he better, or else I'm going medieval on his ass."

[Anon]
"Right, and do you think they'll actually believe him? I mean, he's not a very good liar."

[Fang]
"..."

[Fang]
"I hope they do."

[Anon]
"Yeah, me too."

Silence settles over us after that, neither of us knowing what to say.

The only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart, just as fast as it was before, even though we've been standing here for at least five minutes now. There's a slick layer of sweat collecting on my skin, making me shiver in the cold evening air. And my numerous bruises are starting to hurt too, not to mention my foot...

But I can't afford to care about any that, not until I'm sitting on that plane.

No, better yet, not until I'm holding Reeda's hand, feeling the warmth of her ALIVE body.

Until then, I gotta keep going.

I guess we should find another cab now or something, rush to the airport and hope the plane will still be there. It should take off in about twenty minutes, so the only way we'll reach it is if at least one of our plans work.

And I still have to get my ticket from Stella some-fucking-how.

Though it just now dawns on me that she won't be able to print them out, and that I wrecked my phone. Just another little detail I absolutely hadn't thought of that could potentially throw a wrench in the whole thing.

And yet no matter how badly I want to get going, for the here and now there's something else I should address first. Because this could very well be my last chance of doing so in person.

[Anon]
"Um, hey, Fang..."

A police car drives past us, drowning out the rest of my words, its flashing lights illuminating the alleyway around us.

Too caught up in the fight with Naser, I haven't really taken in our surroundings yet - although it's not like there's a lot to see here. A couple of dumpsters by the dilapidated walls, newspapers and other pieces of trash littered around them. We must be right on the edge of Skinrow.

I don't recognize the street though, making me wonder just how far my flat count be from here.

I suppose if--

[Fang]
"Yeah?"

Oh right, I shouldn't get lost in the details, and instead focus my attention on the girl before me. I really, really don't want to get caught mumbling shit about how bad I feel about our breakup or anything like that...

[Fang]
"Um, er..."

The embarrassed, uncomfortable expression appearing on Fang's face - not to mention the accompanying blush - is quite telling though, that my worries were totally irrelevant as I'm probably mumbling THIS very sentence as well.

[Anon]
"Am I?"

[Fang]
"Yeah?"

[Anon]
"..."

I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

[Anon]
"Sorry... I can't control it."

[Fang]
"That's... It's okay, Anon."

...

[Anon]
"Man, that's weird."

[Fang]
"Huh? The mumbling?"

[Fang]
"I mean, yeah, um--"

[Anon]
"No... You calling me by my name."

[Anon]
"Can't you call me 'dweeb' or 'dork' or something like that? You know, the way you used to?"

[Fang]
"..."

[Fang]
"I really don't think that I should."

[Anon]
"Whuh? Why not?"

With a clenched jaw Fang looks away, embarrassment giving its way to sadness on her face.

[Fang]
"Because... I did that because I liked you, Anon."

[Fang]
"It was like, I dunno, a term of affection?"

[Fang]
"I've never been very good at showing my emotions and shit like that, so... I thought a nickname would be, you know, cute."

Cradling her arms Fang turns her back to me, looking off into the distance. Probably to hide the pain on her face, but I can really only guess.

[Fang]
"Why are you even bringing this up now? It's been months now since we... Since we broke up."

[Fang]
"You moved on, haven't you? Isn't what this is all about? Getting you back to Reeda?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"I just... I..."

Shit. I don't fucking know what to say.

I guess I just want to... Uhhh...

...

Honestly, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Or what it is I should be doing.

I mean, should I apologize? Should I simply say we're over? Thank her for her time and effort? Cause geez, even thinking that sounds horrible...

Then again, Fang and I used to date. Even if we're only friends now - or less -, she should know me enough to understand what I'm trying to tell her.

[Anon]
"Look, I... I have absolutely no idea what I'm trying to say here, okay?"

[Anon]
"But the way we ended things, I mean... Shit, I mean did we even END things?"

[Anon]
"Like, I'm not trying to get with you again or anything, that ship already sailed, I know."

[Anon]
"But we never officially 'broke up'. We literally just stopped talking to each other."

[Anon]
"This could be the last time we're ever together like this."

[Anon]
"Don't you think we should, like, talk about it?"

[Fang]
"...Talk about it...?"

With a surprised pitch in her voice, Fang turns back to me.

[Fang]
"Anon, we're trying to stop a plane for you. We don't have time to--"

[Anon]
"That's just it, Fang!"

[Anon]
"Once I get on that plane, I'll be gone."

[Anon]
"Even if Reeda..."

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"I'm not coming back here."

[Anon]
"Would... THAT... Happen, I'm moving back to Rock Bottom."

[Fang]
"So what?"

Fang sounds genuinely confused.

I step closer to her, forcing the words out as my face contorts in pain.

[Anon]
"Look, I've probably already missed my chance to tell Reeda that I love her. Cause before I came here, we had a fight."

[Anon]
"A really, REALLY bad one."

[Anon]
"And the few times we talked since? Well it didn't get better."

[Anon]
"All I can hope is that she knows how much I care about her, because I sure as fuck didn't tell her."

[Anon]
"And I should have..."

[Anon]
"And now, I-- I don't want to be a sperg that pushes people away, not again."

[Anon]
"If there's anything you and I should say to each other, I want us to say it."

[Fang]
"..."

[Fang]
"You don't want to hear what I've got to say to you, Anon."

I put a hand on Fang's shoulder, trying to force a smile on my face and slip a bit of a giggle into my voice.

It... Sorta works.

[Anon]
"Oh come on, how much worse could it be than Trish beating me up?"

[Anon]
"Hey, at least SHE went sure that the message is received."

[Anon]
"I don't think there's anything you could say that I--"

Raising her wings the way she did standing between Trish and I, Fang promptly shuts me up.

[Fang]
"I hate you, Anon! From the bottom of my heart, I honestly do."

[Fang]
"I. Hate. You!"

 

* * *

 

W-What...?

No way, that can't be right.

[Anon]
"B-But--! Y-You said we're friends!"

[Anon]
"And you're--"

[Anon]
"Why would you--?"

I can only watch, helpless, as Fang lets her wings down, walking over to the nearby dumpsters and pulling herself up on the cleanest looking one.

The way she settles there, propping herself up on her arms behind her back, it surely looks like she's content to just chill there, bomb threat be damned. There's absolutely no hurry in her movements anymore.

Hell, after looking through her pockets, she even lights a cigarette.

...

From the somewhere in the distance I hear the sirens of another police car, reminding me just how close we are to Skinrow, and how easy it'd be for me to call it quits and go the fuck home. I still got those hentai doujins waiting for me there, simply begging for my attention...

But I know I can't.

Stepping up to Fang, I look up at her in defiance.

[Anon]
"Explain!"

[Fang]
"..."

Fang stares back at me coldly, keeping us in a sort of mute stalemate as she puffs on her smoke.

In the end she sighs, deeply, her chest deflating as she gives in.

[Fang]
"We're... Friends. Yeah."

[Fang]
"But I still hate you."

[Anon]
"...That doesn't make any sense."

[Fang]
"Ugh, look... Remember what I told you back at the concert?"

[Fang]
"That it was only AFTER we broke up that I realized it's up to me to fix my own problems?"

[Fang]
"Didn't you stop to think why that is?"

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"I'm kind of in the middle of dealing with some other stuff right now, in case you haven't noticed."

Fang lets out an amused snort in response, tearing her eyes away from mine as she continues. There's obvious anger in her voice, though, even if she's trying to mask it.

[Fang]
"You're a nobody, Anon."

[Fang]
"You're a nobody, and an absolute loser. And yet..."

[Fang]
"In less than a week you wedged yourself in with my friends."

[Fang]
"MY friends!"

[Fang]
"Just how does that happen? Like, what makes YOU so special?"

[Fang]
"There's absolutely NOTHING special about you."

By now Fang's wings are fluttering with every other word, similar to how one's shoulders shake when they're angry.

She must be putting a lot of effort into not shouting my head off, huh.

[Fang]
"But..."

[Fang]
"Even then I liked being with you. Even if you were a nobody, you were more real than anyone else around me."

[Fang]
"Like, I dunno? Just genuine? True to yourself?"

[Fang]
"So I thought if there was anyone who stood a rat's chance at getting me back on track, well shit, it was you!"

[Fang]
"I honestly thought that you'd be the guy to support me all through the shit I've got going on in my life."

[Fang]
"...But you weren't."

At this point Fang turns her attention back to me. Her gaze, much as her voice, is devoid of any emotion other than anger. Or at least the kinds that I recognize.

Taking in what she's telling me is hard enough, so I really don't think I have it in me to interpret a dino's face right now. Let alone a female one's.

And yet if there's one thing my feeble social skills are picking up, it's that Fang's anger isn't all directed at me, but... Herself?

What on Earth could she be blaming herself for?

[Fang]
"So when we broke up? Yeah. That's when I realized that nobody will unfuck my life for me."

[Fang]
"And I hated you for giving up on me."

[Fang]
"I still do."

[Fang]
"And I don't think it'll ever go away."

At this point she sighs, biting her a lower lip in as if there was something else she wanted to say, but wasn't sure if she really should.

A moment later she flicks the butt of her cigarette away, and her tensed shoulders, same as her wings, drop.

[Fang]
"...Are you satisfied now? Did you really want to hear me say all this?"

[Fang]
"Well you better fucking be, cause I feel like an asshole for telling you."

[Fang]
"Even if YOU don't care about ME... I care about you."

[Fang]
"I hate you, but... I care about you."

[Fang]
"So fucking thanks for making me feel like a jerk, you fucking dork."

...

Wow. Just wow.

This day being what it is, I've probably had the feeling of not knowing what to say or do more times than in my whole life previous to this point. But none of that holds a candle to what I'm feeling right now.

Even if I could articulate anything resembling a response, a shrill echo of sirens, and accompanied by the sound of heavy wheels on gravel, drowns out the remainder of the conversation.

We both turn to the source of the sound, just in time to see several police cars and even an armored van or four rush down the road at the end of the alleyway.

As we watch them go, a cold chill crawls down my spine, and suddenly the feeling that I'm making a huge mistake hits me at full force. Because all these cops, they're all headed the same way we were going...

...Towards the airport.

 

* * *

 

AW FUCK

OH GOD

CHRIST

SHIT

MY LUNGS ARE BURNING

MY BODY HURTS

AND I'M LIMPING

...

Or in other words, I'm fucked.

It couldn't have been longer than five minutes since we saw the cops drive past us, not a long time at all, but still that's five minutes I've spent sprinting at full force. I bolted outta dodge so fast as if I had someone chasing me with a gun.

Not even Fang's indignant shouting after me could make me stop.

With what she just told me, I figured either she would follow me, or she would not. For someone who apparently hates my guts, she sure helped me a lot this evening. But with this much on the line, I won't stop to play psychiatrist with her.

Cause yeah... With Trish, at least I knew what I wanted to tell her, and I had a pretty good guess what kind of response to expect. With Fang I've had neither of these luxuries. So now that I know how she truly sees me, I guess I don't even have a reason to try anymore.

I mean, I wanted us to reach some sort of conclusion, to get closure and sew up any loose threads, a chance for both of us to speak our minds. And boy, she sure has.

Shaking my head, I do my best to rid myself of these pointless thoughts.

Perhaps I've failed to patch up all the wounds with Fang, but at least this crazy plane-stopper plan of mine hasn't fully failed. Yet. Or if it has, at least I don't know it. I can still pretend that when I'll get to the airport, the plane will still be there.

And that's reason enough to keep me putting one foot in front of the other.

But for how long? Now that's the real question. Hell, maybe once I get to Reeda - IF I ever get to Reeda - they can put me in a bed right next to hers, cause I legit feel like I'm tearing every muscle and tendon in my body right now, fighting my way through the increasingly-more-populated streets.

I've been trying to hail a cab this whole time, naturally, but I just have no luck. And it doesn't help things either that a giant traffic jam seems to be unfolding next to me, trapping any and all cars that get close.

Or rather, the only fortunate thing about all this is that the police vans seem to be having just as much trouble as I am, basically crawling to a halt as their drivers are trying getting past the mass of other cars. At some point I even manage to pass them - on foot.

It gives me a renewed burst of hope that I badly needed, but sadly, it doesn't sprout me wings or anything like that. And I just know that hope alone won't carry me all the way.

At the same time I'm keeping my eyes on the cars, with my fingers crossed wishing that I won't see an upside-down black 80's Lincoln somewhere in there. I don't know how, uh, "excited" Dad got about Trish, but he can certainly be reckless at times...

Luckily though, this seems to be just a regular-ass traffic jam, without any fatalities. And after another five minutes or so I finally manage to get past the last couple of cars, too, red and blue lights blinking in the distance behind me. There I allow myself to slow down to a jog, doing my best to calm by breathing.

...Easier said than done.

Cause while it feels great to put more of a distance between me and the police - as if I was some damn criminal -, at the same time each new step now feels like a monumental effort.

Images of Reeda circle in my head, blurry memories I try to recall and focus on to keep myself distracted.

Like that one time we went to watch a scary movie, and it was ACTUALLY scary and I couldn't sleep, so Reeda stayed awake with me and I felt totally pathetic and embarrassed and tried to pass it off as if I was just not tired. Only for Reeda to then confess that she was afraid to go sleep too, so we ended up watching Skinnie the Pooh till something like six in the morning when the sun came up.

Or that other time I hurt my back helping her father move boxes and shit, and Reeda offered to give me a carfe-rub massage because she claimed it would relax my muscles. And then I couldn't stand up for the rest of the day and I was afraid I might end up in a wheelchair and Reeda felt sooooo bad about it, regardless of me telling her it's fine.

Or like last weekend or something when Reeda thought it would be hilarious if she superglued two bottles of beer into her hands and then I had to feed her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even though she spilled the contents of both bottles in less than an hour, and we just couldn't get the stupid things off of her palms.

I mean... Geez. Aren't we just a perfect match in stupidity?

...

God I hope she's gonna be all right... I-I don't even know what I would do if--

...

Crossing one last narrow street I stumble to the nearest wall, leaning on the windowsill of whatever store I don't even care about.

Right now, there are only two things on my mind.

How bad I want to see Reeda... And how bad I want to sit down.

But I if I did that, knew I couldn't force myself to get up again. Not with these jello legs.

The roof of the airport terminal and the control tower can clearly be seen over the top of the other buildings, but I have no idea how long it will take me still to even get there.

I feel the shame taking a hold in my gut, followed by a sense of helplessness. Things were going more or less fine till now, because I had people to lean on and order around. But now, I'm alone again.

And alone, there is only so much I can do.

 

* * *

 

Just then, I hear the sound of an engine, and of tires screeching.

Immediately I whip round, afraid that I'm about to be hit by a drunk driver or something. ...Only to find myself facing a familiar-looking red, uh, sportscar?

I still don't know the kinds... But... The bullet-hole shaped crack in the windshield? Now that one I know.

This is the nas-car, as Naser used to be so fond of calling it.

But what is it doing here? Who's driving it? I can't see anything from the headlights, blinding me as the car pulls up to the curb.

Honestly, it's a little intimidating, even.

There's a second's pause, then a door opens on the passenger side. And out comes...

...

[Anon]
"Fang? What are you--"

[Fang]
"Get in!"

She opens the door behind her, obviously intending for me to climb in. But I hesitate.

What on earth is happening right now? Where did she get that car? And why? Doesn't she--

[Fang]
"GET. IN."

Fang repeats the sentence, agitated, a clear sense of urgency in her voice.

I take a look past her and the shine of the headlights, towards the traffic jam, weighing my options. As if I had many.

Didn't I just think about how hopeless it is for me to make it to the airport on foot?

And if that wasn't enough, it seems the cops have cleared the jam, too, their blinking lights flooding down the street. Any second now they could pass us, and then it would be definitely all over.

Seems like I really have no other option here, but to accept Fang's help.

Only... That's just it. How can I know if she's really here to help me? What if it's her father sitting at the wheel, ready to take me in?

Like, I couldn't imagine Fang wanting to turn me in, hate or friendship or whatever else aside, but what if the cops already caught up to them and now it's either me or her, or me or Naser?

Naser IS Fang's baby brother after all, and I made him call in a bomb threat. If he was facing jail time in my stead, could I even leave him hanging?

...

A police car passes us by, loud sirens and even louder cursing from Fang taking me back to reality.

And... Shit! No more time to waste. I gotta risk it.

On wobbly legs I rush up to Fang, and almost immediately slink into the back seat behind her. Though I still make a point of trying to steal a glance at the driver before I get in, only to find with relief that it's just Naser.

But now I'm even more confused. How did he have the time to get the car, get Fang, and come back for me as well? It just doesn't add up.

In fact, this doesn't seem to be making any sort of sense anymore whatsoever.

[Fang]
"Punch it Nas!"

Fang barks the order at her brother, slamming the door shut on her side. And he doesn't need to be told twice.

We roll out onto the main street virtually five seconds before the rest of the police catches up to us, honking their horns loudly and demanding that we get out of the way.

But of course, we don't. This is a crazy race to the airport now.

And it's at this point that I need some fucking answers, also.

[Anon]
"Why are you here?"

[Anon]
"HOW are you here?"

I have to shout to even be heard, with all the commotion on the road happening around us.

Fang turns around in her seat to face me. And although we couldn't be farther than a couple of feet from one another, with the red and blue lights painting her face I can barely read her expression. Not that it would be my forte anyway.

But she looks determined, if at - understandable - unease.

[Fang]
"We took the car from dad."

[Anon]
"You WHAT?!"

[Anon]
"What was he even--"

[Fang]
"They got the location of the phone Naser used, and dad was the first responder."

Wow. That can't be a coincidence. Not after their earlier call where both Fang and Naser begged him for that favor.

He probably made the guess it was one of us making the threat after he refused. That could explain the car too, he most likely didn't want to arrest his own children, and tried to keep the whole thing under wraps.

Although that still doesn't tell me how they managed to steal the damn thing from him, but it's not like I need to know every last detail either. Does it even matter at this point?

I guess there's only one question that does.

[Anon]
"But why? Why are you helping me?"

[Fang]
"What does it look like, Anon?"

[Fang]
"I'm helping you get the fuck out of my life!"

Even if a single syllable could leave my throat upon hearing that, the car suddenly lurching to the side stifles my words.

[Naser]
"FUCK!"

Instinctively, we all grab onto the nearest thing to keep steady, while Naser does his best to regain control of the vehicle.

Meanwhile, thoughts are going through my head a million times per second... What happened? Did we blow a tire? Ran over something? Or someone?

I look out to the right side, and the answer looks straight back at me. One of the cops pulled up next to us, and they trying to force us off the fucking road!

Shit! Is that even legal?

I watch in horror as they close in again, connecting to the nas-car with a mechanical thud.

We swerve to the left. Hard. It's a miracle Naser can even keep us from colliding into anything at this rate.

But for how long...?

[Fang]
"Naser! Do something!"

[Naser]
"I'm trying! I'm trying!"

As he does... Whatever it is he's attempting to do... I look for the other car, lagging behind us just slightly. It's clear they don't want to endanger any civilians by flipping us over or anything, but they're just not fucking giving up either.

And... Raptor Jesus Christ! I don't know what I thought would happen if we made a bomb threat, but it certainly wasn't fucking this. I mean just... Fang talking about her doing it before made me think about it like such a trivial little prank. And now... Are we criminals now?

Cause it sure as shit feels like that, outlaws on the run and everything.

I know that I've said I'll get to Reeda whatever it takes but... This shit is insane! How could I have been so stupid?

I should have realized Fang was just as crazy as she always used to be!

Stupid girl my ass, she's a God damned lunatic!

[Fang]
"Look out!"

I whip my attention back on the road just in time to witness us BARELY not slamming into the back of another car.

We all shout as the nas-car uncontrollably drifts to the right, and I just almost manage to not shit my pants. At this point, I'm quite certain we're gonna die. Or worse.

When I dare to open my eyes again, we some-fucking-how still are on the road, although turned onto one of the side-streets. At the end of which the airport building looms over us.

I don't know if Naser intended the turn like this and if he's a much better driver than I first thought, but I don't even care. If I get out of this damn chariot of Hell in one piece, I'll sing his praises till the end of my days.

Fortunately, this street is also narrow enough so that the other car can't get up next to us again, not unless he wants to drive into the opposite lane. There's just no opening for them to get ahead of us now.

In the relative calm of the situation, I lean forward between the two front seat.

We're headed straight for the airport, that much is certain. The road ahead is clear too.

Or rather, it's clear until it isn't.

There are already one or two police cars on the scene, officers putting up yellow tape all around the place to barricade the building and deter the crowd trying to get in. It's chaotic as it can get. And I have absolutely no idea how we'll get through.

Even if we manage to outrun our pursuers, someone else will get us. It's hopeless. All this action straight out of a cheesy blockbuster movie, and it was all for naught.

Naser must be thinking along the same lines, his voice cracking as he poses his question to us.

[Naser]
"Um, guys? A-Any ideas?"

The inside of the car is silent for quite a few seconds after that, until Fang speaks up.

[Fang]
"Drive into the crowd."

Her voice is so collected and nonchalant, I almost miss the meaning of her words altogether.

[Anon]
"Wha--"

[Naser]
"Are you crazy?! No way I'm doing that!"

[Fang]
"Did you balls fall off or something?"

[Fang]
"We need to get in there."

[Naser]
"Someone could get hurt, Fang. I'm not doing it."

[Fang]
"Geez, just slow down and honk your horn."

[Naser]
"No. I won't do it. You can't make me!"

As much as I agree with Naser here - I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt on my accord ever again - I'm not really seeing any other option either. Especially not because we're basically like ten seconds from collision. We couldn't even get out of the way now even if we wanted to.

The best thing we can do is pull the emergency brake, and offer up a prayer for our immortal souls. Or something.

But of course, Fang being who she is, won't let it go quite so easily.

I can clearly see the arrow on the speed gauge falling towards zero as Naser slams the brakes and tries to steer the car away from the crowd, only for Fang to grab the wheel from the side, janking it back towards her.

Twenty miles per hour, eighteen...

The vehicle violently swings to the right and left as the two siblings engage in a fight, neither of them letting go.

Ten MPH, eight...

I can do nothing but watch in horror as we pass through the police tape and bank the curb, bodies appearing in front of the headlights. I just hope we've slowed down enough for them to get out of the way.

...

The last thing going through my mind before we collide into the foot of some statue in front of the main gates... Is that I'm gonna be sick.

 

* * *

 

[Naomi]
"Naser... Naser...!"

The very first sensory displeasure I receive as soul returns to mortal coil is the shrill voice of one annoying-ass apricot.

I can see Stella and Rosa too. Or rather, two Stella and Rosa shaped blobs.

And granted, my vision is hazy and my mind yet hazier, but I can more or less recall what just happened in the past few minutes.

We have crashed into the statue outside. And lived.

Though part of Naser might have died on the spot, seeing the front of the car.

Anyway, Fang dragged both of us off, through the sea of people and away from the shouting of the officers.

We managed to get lost in the crowd, too, and entered the building using one of the side-entrances.

And once we did... Wow. It's like an entirely different dimension in here.

No shouting, no panicking, no police.

There are some security guards by the doors, but mainly it seems they're just there to keep people calm and answer questions, hand-in-hand with other members of the staff.

There's no evacuation going on, that's for sure. Just a bunch of confused tourists and families looking at the many displays reading "DELAYED".

It's kind of scary, when you think about it. I know they're trying to keep people from trampling eachother to death in panic, and I can even understand that shutting down a whole busy airport would be expensive as fuck, but... Well let's just say it's a good thing the bomb isn't real.

Even Naomi, Stella, and Rosa seem clueless. Which means they must have arrived before the cops did, so there would be no way for them to know what's really happening. And I think that's for the best, too. The other passengers might not look too favourably on us if we started discussing bombing the fucking place right next to them.

In any case, we've made it inside and haven't yet been arrested or shot. Which is nice.

With some luck, it could even be possible that the cops haven't seen us. Cause I mean, as soon as we got out of the car we iumped into the crowd. So it IS plausible. They might not know what we look like.

And if that's true, then we just might--

Suddenly, a loud clapping noise catches my attention, and I turn my head just in time to see the aftermath of what must have been Naomi delivering a forceful slap to Naser's cheek.

[Naser]
"Whuh? ...Huh?"

Poor dude's been sitting on the floor this whole time, barely conscious.

I sure hope the crash didn't fuck up his brain or spine or anything. He seemed fine on the way in here, but once Fang let go of him he pretty much collapsed onto the floor, and stayed there.

Some people are giving us weird looks, and I do share their concern a hundred-percent, but... Honestly, as much of an asshole as I feel about this, I can't idly wait around to see if Naser's okay. I'm sure he's just bummed out about his car and, uh, being an outlaw on the run, and getting into a fight with his father, and um...

...

Taking a glance at the large screen above, the one listing all the departures, I try to find my flight. Hoping that it's still here, of course. However...

There are a LOT of numbers on that screen. And even after tens of seconds, I just can't seem to pinpoint which gate I should be hurrying my ass to. Every other word I read as "Japan", and in every other changing clock I see the bleeps on an ECG...

I also notice that it's not all flights that have been grounded or delayed, and I have no idea why. Maybe those planes take off from terminals far enough away from the one they think might explode? I dunno. Maybe they didn't even take the threat seriously and flights are leaving as normal, and these are natural delays, not connected to our actions this evening.

Wait no, that makes no sense. Stella or Rosa would have said something if that was the case, because then surely my flight would have left by now, too. And the police is here for a reason as well.

Only then, another thought crosses my mind.

Stella, Rosa, Naomi, Naser... Fang...

But isn't someone missing? Two someones?

[Anon]
"H-Hey! Wheres Dad?"

All heads turn to me as I speak, my voice still a little shaky from before. Well, all heads, except for Naser.

[Stella]
"We saw him just a couple of minutes ago..."

[Rosa]
"Sí! And Trish was with him!"

[Anon]
"Saw him? Well... But where's he NOW?"

[Stella]
"They were going--"

The rest of Stella's answer is drowned out by the sounds of a commotion coming from nearby, people yelling and crowding together near one of the large wall-sized windows. I can't make out what they're saying, but they're looking real excited about something all of a sudden, pointing outside, towards the airstrip.

What's happening? Can't be that someone is bombing the place for real, can it?

...Can it...?

Intrigued and without thinking I jog up to mass of people, followed by Stella and Fang, while Rosa and Naomi stay behind to tend to Naser. Takes us a couple of seconds to fight our way through all the bodies, but as we do and I finally get a good look of what's happening outside, I--

...

Oh. My. God. And all that is holy...!

I just-- This is--

I never--

...

Uhh... I mean...

I did tell Dad to cause a distraction, but...

...

Well, I honestly don't know if he has a record, like perhaps DUI or something, but even then I'm sure public indecency would be a new item on that list. And...

Oh God, someone please bleach my eyes. And brain.

[Stella]
"Oh, oh my gosh! A-Anon! They're--!"

Yup. They sure are, Stella.

They sure are.

But how did Dad even get Trish to...?

...

No, I shouldn't ask questions I don't want to know the answer to.

[Fang]
"Wow! I never though Trish had it in her to get with a skinnie."

I turn my attention from the mesmerizing scene to look at Fang. ...Like what, is she speciesist now too?

She just shrugs, blushing, like as if saying something halfway between "sorry" and "deal with it".

With a slight frown I turn back to the window - for why, I don't know - right on time to see multiple people rushing towards Trish and Dad, by the looks of it just as baffled by the situation as we are.

Then, as if on cue, the police cars and vans roll in. They must have circled the building while we were inside.

Poor Dad. He couldn't have the slightest idea that the police is conducting a manhunt right in this very airport.

For Trish, I don't know. I mean, sooner or later she would have ended up behind bars anyway. But for the Mous clan, this is something new.

With how many phones there must be in the crowd, I'm sure there are multiple recordings being made, too. This might just make national news, even.

I guess this is one way to end your marriage. What will that even mean for us?

...Never mind, that's a dilemma for another time.

Still, national news or no, after another minute or so the lewd act finally stops, as the guns are drawn. And... HOLY FUCK THEY'RE NOT GONNA SHOOT MY FATHER ARE THEY?

...

For the next several minutes, all eyes are glued to the scene. We don't even dare to blink.

But... Luckily... It seems Dad is "only" getting arrested. With Trish in tow. Which certainly does suck, but it's way better than the alternative.

As he walks off with the officers, pants off and proudly presenting himself on display... I sigh with relief. And wipe the sweat from my forehead.

Thank you for your service, you magnificent baldo, you...

...

Then it dawns on me.

This was it. This was the distraction.

And I wasted it like an idiot.

 

* * *

 

[Anon]
"Stella! The ticket!"

[Anon]
"I need that ticket! NOW!"

I turned to the lime colored stego, stuttering as I demand the ticket from her. She's still flustered and can barely tear her face away from the window, so it takes her a second to fully grasp what I'm telling her.

She pulls her phone out, tapping away on it immediately.

At first I don't understand what she's doing. But then... Of course. She's sending me the ticket.

If only I had a phone on me, one that I didn't smash into smithereens.

Shit.

...

I place a hand over Stella's phone screen to make her stop, at which she looks up at me quizzically.

[Anon]
"My phone's... Dead. It's no use."

[Stella]
"Um, well..."

[Anon]
"Can you...?"

I'm about to ask her if she could print it. But I don't. It's pointless.

I need to be on that plane ASAP. Even if we COULD by some miracle print that fucking ticket in an airport locked down for a bomb threat, we would never make it on time.

Or would we...?

That might be the most infuriating part of this whole thing. It seems not one but BOTH of our plans worked to delay the flight, but have they really?

I take another look at the screen overhead, but for only a half-second. It's pointless.

[Stella]
"Can I...?"

Turning back to Stella, I think of a solution.

But it's not coming to me.

I'm tired, hurting, and frankly, overwhelmed. I've just gone through the most emotional and action-packed day of my life. I'm worrying about Reeda, worrying about Dad, the police, Naser... I can barely even see straight anymore, let alone think straight.

All's I know is that I want to see Reeda. And to do that, I need to get on a plane.

That's pretty much the limit of my mental capacity right now.

...

Just then I feel someone grab into my jacket, and I'm firmly pushed to the side.

[Fang]
"Oh geez! Get out of my way..."

I try to speak up, but can really only watch as Fang takes charge of the situation.

[Fang]
"Stella, send me the ticket!"

[Stella]
"Okay!"

She immediately chugs into action... But pauses a few seconds later.

[Stella]
"...Both of them?"

[Fang]
"Both of--?"

[Stella]
"I-I thought Anon and his dad would go together and... I... T-There are two tickets."

Fang hesitates for a second before answering, that same determined shine appearing in her eyes that I saw back in the car.

[Fang]
"Yeah, gimme both."

[Anon]
"Fang, you're--"

I try to protest, though I have no idea why. Fang has every right to come and see Reeda, if she so wishes.

And I get shot down quick, anyway.

[Fang]
"Shut it dweeb. I'm going with you."

[Anon]
"..."

To shut our - already decidedly one-sided - argument short, at this exact second the police finally make their appearance inside the building. The main gates flung open, and in rushes a column of officers.

Which is... Not very fucking good. To put it lightly.

They shouldn't know to look for us specifically, I'm counting on that badly, but there's no way in Hell that I'm risking it.

The two dino girls with me are frozen on the spot, though probably for quite different reasons. Stella still doesn't have the slightest idea about the gravity of the situation.

...

Of the three of us, it's Fang who regains her senses first.

[Fang]
"What gate?"

[Stella]
"G-Gate...?"

Stella chews through the word, confused, before her eyes light up.

[Stella]
"C-three! It's gate C-three!"

[Fang]
"C-three. Alright."

[Fang]
"Come on, dork!"

Before I could say or do anything Fang grabs my arm - actually quite painfully, as her claws dig into my skin -, and starts dragging me along the corridor. Stella looks after us, still visibly confused, but she offers us a tentative wave as goodbye anyway.

I take one last look behind us, towards the entrance and all the cops flooding into the place.

They shouldn't notice us, they shouldn't... I repeat this phrase inside my head again and again, hoping, praying that it'll be true.

We're so close now! There are no more obstacles keeping us from the plane, from Reeda...

...Reeda!

I'm coming! I'm coming for you!

Just please, PLEASE don't die till I get there!

 

* * *

 

With a violent tug on my arm Fang whips me around a corner.

[Anon]
"Ow, Christ!"

But whine as I might, Fang pays me no heed. Instead, she takes my hand, lifts it up, and...

...Puts her phone in it?

What?

[Anon]
"Fang, what are you--?"

[Fang]
"I'm not going with you, dork."

[Anon]
"What? But you said--"

[Fang]
"I know."

[Fang]
"But I can't."

[Anon]
"Huh?"

[Fang]
"..."

She motions towards the corridor we just left, and at the increasing number of uniforms filling it.

[Fang]
"I can't. Naser will need me here."

[Fang]
"I got him into this mess, and I'll get him out of it too."

[Fang]
"...Cause I'm his big sister, right, you dweeb?"

Fang smiles at me weakly, though there's more pain than happiness in her eyes.

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"You're calling me 'dweeb' again."

[Fang]
"..."

[Fang]
"I want this phone returned to me, alright?"

[Fang]
"By you. Personally."

[Anon]
"Fang, you-- I--"

I feel like this would be a perfect moment for that big emotional speech I should have responded with to Fang telling me how much she hates me, while apparently also caring for me.

But no words are coming to me. Again.

What could possibly be going through her head at this very moment, even? This girl, who not ten minutes ago told Naser to drive into a crowd full of strangers and innocent people.

This girl who told me that she wants me out of her life, yet now she tells me that she wants to see me again.

Me. Personally.

Is she hoping that Reeda is...

Is she hoping that if I come back here, then I'll be coming back FOR her?

I mean, sure, these past few hours Fang was firsthand witness to how much I can care about someone, and to what crazy lengths I can go to for the slightest chance to simply see them and be with them.

And... I guess in her place I could hate myself too, because I sure as shit never put this much effort into OUR relationship. Plus she's told me that she started down the path of becoming a better person. All on her own.

Who wouldn't want someone to support them through THAT?

So is she hoping that if I came back here, that if I came back for her, then that could be us? It doesn't sound bad, not at all, but... It'll never be real.

...

[Anon]
"You know that..."

[Anon]
"...You MUST know that..."

[Anon]
"...We'll never be together again."

[Anon]
"R-Right?"

The taken aback, hurt look Fang gives me very much says that no, she didn't know. That despite all that had happened between us, she would still want us to be together.

I feel hurt too. Or maybe it's pity? I really can't tell.

On one hand, I don't want Fang to have these feelings for me. The best both of us could do is never see the other again.

But at the same time, all the things we've gone through, just this one afternoon... It was a crazy adventure. And she saved my ass countless times.

Without Fang's help, I wouldn't be here right now. Is it too much to ask for that I return the favor?

Still, I need to say goodbye to her.

Because out there, somewhere, far across the sea, there's someone else I haven't given up on. Not yet. Even though she might die, or may already has, and even though we might break up in a week...

It's like what Dad told me.

There are people worth fighting for.

But I have my own fights, and Fang has hers. The twain shall never meet.

...

I sigh, looking down at the phone in my hand.

[Anon]
"I'll get this thing back to you. I promise."

[Anon]
"But Reeda will be with me when I do."

[Fang]
"..."

Fang looks up at me, opening her mouth to say something. Only to, in the end, say nothing. Then she does it again, like a fish out of water.

If I had to guess, she's probably going through the same train of though I just has.

We already know that we've got our own goals and our own problems, and that for the first time in our lives, these problems are as serious as they can get. We've got many decisions to make, with the constant fear of choosing wrong.

Looking for someone to depend on and to ask for help is just natural, as well as wanting to go back to how things were till now when we were careless teens. That used to be our whole world up until now. But we can't run away from the REAL world, and we can't run away from growing up.

We both have horrible futures to look forward to right now. Me with Reeda perhaps dying on me, and Fang with the police perhaps going to prison. But still, these are the consequences of our own actions, and we must face them head on.

That's just how it has to be.

...

Instead of answering me with words, Fang throws her arms around me, embracing me in a tight hug. She furrows her head under my chin, pushing our bodies close. And I put my hands around her in return, caressing her feathers as I do.

We spend a moment together like this, in the middle of all this chaos and uncertainty, a moment that's just ours, a moment that finally, finally sews up those wounds I tried to address before. A moment of mutual understanding, something that cannot be and need not be put into words.

That this is goodbye. A true, no doubt about it, never to be repeated, final and singular, one of a kind, between-two-adults...

Goodbye.

 

* * *

 

It's been three days since that moment. And I have just woken up.

I'm in a hospital room. Half sitting in a chair, half perched over a bed. Surrounded by empty fast food wrappers.

I have barely slept in the last couple of days. Even now, I feel tired. But I force myself to stay awake.

And the reason for this is the occupant of the bed I'm leaning on.

...

I've arrived in Japan three days ago. And of course, my first journey took me to the hospital, and to Reeda's room. Her parents were absolutely stunned that I got here so fast.

Well, actually, it wasn't that simple. I didn't know which hospital Reeda was in, and there were several in the region. I just got lucky on that front.

But then came the sobering, cold shower that were the news about the situation.

Reeda was alive. That was true. She's made it through the night. But barely.

She wasn't out of the woods by a damn stretch.

And why she was here in the first place?

She's had an accident. An automobile accident. At a racing track.

A Formula-2 racing track.

Oh, yes.

Turns out that in my absence her friends managed to forge her a test pilot license, and she was allowed to take a few laps in a real racecar that could go up to a bazillion miles per hour.

To nobody's surprise, she slammed into a wall in the middle of her first lap, breaking virtually every bone in her left side. Punctured lungs, burns, bleeding... It was a miracle she survived her trip to the hospital, even. She was so close to losing multiple limbs, it's not even funny.

I didn't know what to say or think about that. Just how could she have been so reckless?

What's more, she's been mostly unconscious or asleep these past few days. A combination of her condition, and from being drugged so much for the pain and the surgeries.

We didn't exchange a single word since I got here. We didn't even get a chance to look into eachother's eyes.

Despite me spending all my time in her room, barring a bathroom-break when absolutely necessary, we were just as far apart as we've been three days ago.

When I was awake she wasn't, and when she might have woken up, I was asleep. It was a cruel joke of fate. And I felt like I was going crazy.

The only reason I even knew Reeda was aware of my presence here was that the first time I fell asleep on her, I woke up with her holding my hand.

...And yes, it did made me cry.

Although, as I wipe the remainder of the feverish dreams from my eyes, it seems that this trend is about to end. Because there's something new.

I don't know how long I could have been sleeping, but in front of me on the bed there's what appears to be a letter, written on the inside of a Burger Chieftain wrapper.

Immediately more awake, startled by this find, I look at Reeda. ...But she's out cold.

I sigh, disappointed, and turn my attention back at the letter.

The writing is all squiggly, barely legible. Though still, it seems to be from Reeda, and addressed to me.

"Anon"

"am sorry"

"luv u"

"Reeda"

"ps"

"tail is sensitive"

My hands tremble as I hold the letter.

[Anon]
"I love you too..."

I mouth the words more than say them. She wouldn't hear it anyway.

It's good to know she's sorry, at least.

Because since I got here, sitting in this room and waiting for Reeda to wake up, not even knowing what she thinks about all this, I found myself thinking back to that moment with Fang. Often.

I felt frustrated and stupid. I came all this way, overcame every challenge and got to Reeda while she was still alive... But for what?

After hearing about the way she ended up in this situation, the idea that we might be better off breaking up found its way into my mind again and again.

But at least now, I had some semblance of a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to work things out.

That said though, that last part of the letter mystifies me.

Her tail is sensitive? What?

Is she trying to say that she feels a fever coming on? Should I get a nurse? Or...

I sit up, straightening my back as I stretch. Only to notice that Reeda placed her tail in my lap.

Looking at her again, I wonder if maybe she's awake right now? Trying to pull a prank on me?

But... No. It doesn't seem that she's aware of her surroundings whatsoever.

And yet, hmm... Her tail is sensitive? Is she trying to tell me to...

With this new idea stuck in my head, I move a hand to the fluffy end of Reeda's tail, and gently ruffle up her feathers - several of which are missing, making the tail a pathetic sight just like the rest of her.

Immediately her body flutters in response, from tail-tip to toe to head. And the beeping of various machines around the room picks up as well.

I look at her face, and see her eyelids flitter, lips trembling.

[Reeda]
"...So ya..."

[Reeda]
"...Figured it out..."

Her voice is frail, barely a audible. And before I could answer she gets a coughing fit, too, reaching with her uninjured hand for a glass of water placed next to the bed.

I hurry to help her, while also trying not to put any pressure on her tail in my lap.

With our combined efforts, she manages to take a few gulps, then motions for me to take the glass away.

[Reeda]
"Man... I'm fucking dead."

[Anon]
"Yeah, you... You look like it too."

There's a weak attempt at laughter from Reeda, but all it does is give her another fit. I frown and look away, feeling really uncomfortable for seeing Reeda like this. Like, this is almost worse than watching her sleep. Cause at least then she was peaceful.

Once her coughing dies down I turn back to her, right in time to see her opening her eyes.

And as I look into them, I can barely hold back the tears. I don't even know why.

Tears of joy, I suppose?

...

[Anon]
"Are you... H-How are you?"

[Reeda]
"I'm... I have no idea."

[Reeda]
"But I'm gonna be okay... Right?"

She asks that question as if I had an answer. But I'm no doctor.

Though at a time like this, I guess a tiny little white lie can't hurt...

[Anon]
"Um, yeah. Sure. I'm sure you'll be fine."

[Reeda]
"...Liar."

She smiles while accusing me, rolling her eyes.

[Anon]
"Huh?"

[Reeda]
"You were mumbling just now."

[Reeda]
"But... I appreciate it."

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. It's raspy, and it almost makes her cough again. But this time she soldiers through it.

Still, her expression becomes uneasy. In fact, this is most likely what people call difficult. Just serious.

[Reeda]
"..."

[Reeda]
"I'm sorry, Anon."

[Reeda]
"I... I don't know what I was thinking."

She says these words, and it feels like she means them too. But I stay silent.

What's there to say to that? "It's okay"? Or "it doesn't matter"? I mean...

It's not okay. And it does matter.

Probably understanding what my lack of answer means, Reeda continues.

[Reeda]
"You're not gonna... Leave me, are you?"

[Reeda]
"Cause I--"

[Reeda]
"I really love you-- And I just--"

This time, as the heaving of her chest and all the beeping around is picks up again, I step in to calm her down.

[Anon]
"Shh...!"

[Anon]
"I don't... I don't WANT to break up with you."

[Anon]
"But you understand why this isn't okay, right?"

[Reeda]
"..."

[Reeda]
"I do..."

She reaches out with a hand again. But instead of looking for something to drink, she's looking for me.

Gently, I take her hand, and enclose it between my palms. For a few seconds there's nothing but silence between us, fucked up as this situation is, both of us just happy to be there.

To be there together.

But this time, it's me who breaks the silence.

[Anon]
"We'll figure it out okay?"

[Anon]
"But first, you concentrate on getting out of here, alright?"

[Reeda]
"...Right..."

She yawns, voice trailing off. Her eyes are getting a little out of focus, too. I can tell she's getting sleepy again.

At the same time though, she strengthens her grip on my hand - as much as she can.

In return I blow a light kiss on her palm, and gently place it against her cheek. Like, transferring the kiss there or something? I'm way to afraid to try and kiss her for real, with all the bandages and shit on her.

Seems like she appreciates the gesture anyway, holding her hand out for more with a bashful yet sly grin.

Her eyes are closed, but that smile warms my heart anyway. So I do as requested, and place not one but five little kisses in her palm, then put it against her forehead and nose now.

Reeda giggles in response, and at first it looks like she wants the repeat the process again, but... At once all het gathered up strength leaves her body, and she puts her arm down on the bed.

Makes me feel a quite sad, because it reminds me that... Yeah. Even if we're trying to act all cutesy, we're still in a hospital room right now. And I'm reminded of the reason for it, too.

...

Before I could say anything, Reeda drifts off to sleep again.

For how long, I don't know. But I'll stay by her side.

Until we both walk out of here, together, this room is my home. This is where I'll be.

 

* * *

 

It was a tough time, for both of us.

And not even just us, as I soon learned in the next couple of days, through people calling Fang's phone.

By the time I got on my plane back there, the police had caught up to the rest of the gang.

Turns out I was right, in a way, the officers didn't know our faces. Except for one.

Fang's father.

When I first heard about him showing up on the scene, I fully expected the story to continue with him arresting everyone present. Including Fang and Naser.

Especially Fang and Naser.

But he didn't.

Apparently, at least in the version of the story that got relayed to me, he took the blame for driving the nas-car there and getting into that car chase. He completely silenced any and all witness account putting us in the car, or even related to the bomb threat at all.

So I suppose in the end he did come around, and put his family first.

Which is such a weird thought... This guy who's been there for Fang and Naser all of their lives, with whom they must have made a million memories together, and then they had to steal his car from him because he just refused to help them otherwise. Meanwhile my father who I thought was the biggest asshole alive for the past twelve years of our lives, he put everything on the line for me. All I had to do was ask.

And speaking of Dad, fortunately, Fang could talk her father into releasing both him and Trish on some minor misdemeanor charges.

Though that's not to say all way smooth sailing from there on out. Fang and Naser got all kinds of red tape up their asses. It mustn't have been a pleasant family situation for them. And Trish probably got her own version of that, too.

As for Dad, well, things aren't fully clear on that front. I think he might be divorcing Mom for real? That must kinda suck.

I just hope he's not considering Trish as a new candidate...

...

But yeah.

[Anon]
"That's the story."

[Reeda]
"Wow."

[Reeda]
"They did all that... For us?"

Well... Yeah? I suppose they did.

But said out loud like that, it makes me feel all embarrassed.

I clear my throat and look away, red tint crawling onto my face.

...

The view from up here is just amazing. I can see for miles, over the whole city and more. Even tough it's dark out - somewhere around midnight, I think.

Our capsule is just about to reach the top, too. The top of the ferris wheel we're on.

...

It's been two months since my return. And yesterday, finally, Reeda was let out of the hospital.

It was an emotional day for all of us. We've allowed ourselves some celebration, of course, but nothing fancy. Just her parents, Reeda, and me, back at their place.

We ate some sushi, watched a couple of movies, and play board games. But that was it.

No booze, no nothing.

I thought Reeda would be let down about that. But even if she was, she didn't show any sign of it.

She behaved like a proper little lady. Or, well... A proper little Reeda-ish lady. With her twisted sense of humor and all that.

Still, it was evident that she changed.

We all changed.

...

[Reeda]
"Anon..."

Reeda's voice tears me away from my daydreams, and again I look at her.

[Reeda]
"I just wanted to say..."

[Reeda]
"Thank you..."

[Reeda]
"Thank you for not giving up on me."

[Anon]
"Um... Right..."

I really don't know what I should say to that.

To my surprise, I hear Reeda giggle at my confusion.

[Reeda]
"It's okay... You dummy."

Oh... I guess I must have been--

[Reeda]
"Mumbling, yea."

She takes my hand, and I take hers. And we both look out the window this time.

...This view is still nice.

But there's something else I want to get off my chest, too.

[Anon]
"..."

[Anon]
"You know, I still have to get Fang her phone back."

[Reeda]
"Mhm, yeah. You probably should."

Reeda agrees, but there's a stir in her voice, like as if she's not sure why I'm bringing this up.

[Anon]
"I um, I promised her that when I next see her, you'll be there too."

[Reeda]
"..."

There's no answer.

[Anon]
"Reeda?"

Her body tenses up. And I'm sure it's not because of the altitude.

[Anon]
"Don't you think that would be cool?"

[Reeda]
"..."

Still no answer.

And I don't get it.

Did something happen between the two of them? Something I just don't know about?

Let's try a different angle...

[Anon]
"You know, they didn't just so help me get here because I asked."

[Anon]
"They're your friends too, and they were worried about you."

[Anon]
"I bet they still are."

[Anon]
"Don't you wanna see them?"

[Reeda]
"..."

[Reeda]
"I..."

[Reeda]
"..."

...

That's all the response I get. At first I'm worried maybe one of her injuries might be acting up, that maybe she's in pain and needs an ambulance.

But no, it's not a physical pain that sets shadows on Reeda's face.

[Anon]
"Look... I have no idea what's going on between you and Fang, but I know you guys stopped talking."

[Anon]
"And it really upset them, f-y-i."

...

[Reeda]
"Fine."

[Anon]
"Fine...? You think that's--"

[Reeda]
"Fine. I'll go with you."

That's... Well that's progress, I guess. But...

[Anon]
"Don't you wanna tell me what this is all about?"

There's a second's hesitation on Reeda's face, but then she shakes her head no.

Which, I can't like, hurts. As if she just doesn't trust me?

[Reeda]
"Look, it's..."

[Reeda]
"This is a girl thing, okay?"

[Reeda]
"Y-You better off not knowing, bro. A'ight?"

Reeda tries to lighten the mood, slipping some nonchalance into her voice. And I'm not convinced, but... Sure. This is as good as it will get, probably.

[Anon]
"...Yeah. Okay."

We turn our attention to the city diorama again after that, with our eyes following some of the cars rolling down the streets, looking at people coming and going. The atmosphere isn't exactly light between us right now.

That is, until Reeda slides closer to me in her seat, leaning against my arm and placing her head on my shoulder. And... Feeling the weight and warmth of the body does wonders to me, and the tense mood soon dissipates.

I embrace her with an arm, gently, trying to not touch any of the bruises still visible on her body.

[Reeda]
"I love you, Anon."

[Anon]
"I lo-- GUH!"

I'm just about to return the gesture, when with a loud click the ferris wheel stops, putting me off balance. For a second I'm worried that something went wrong and that we'll be stuck here, but then I realize... We have reached the top.

The two of us look out the big windows one final time, to the left and right, before our eyes meet.

From the corner of my eyes I can see fireworks going off somewhere in the distance, their many colors reflecting on all surfaces in our tiny little world.

[Anon]
"I love you."

My heart beats incredibly strong as I finally get to say those three words, as if about to burst out of my chest.

At the same I feel a slender hand crawling behind my back, and a feathery tail slowly creeping its way up on my leg.

But mostly, I just see those two beautiful eyes. I get lost in them, mesmerized as they get closer and closer, until the sensation is replaced by that of two soft lips touching mine.

I close my eyes, savoring the moment of our unison, only slightly disturbed by the distant sounds of exploding rockets and the popping of fireworks.

Finally... Finally I feel like as if all in my life was right. That all things finally fell into place.

That I've finally found the place where I feel right, my very home.

And I was right, it wasn't about where in the world I was. It wasn't about money, or logic, or anything like that at all.

Because all that matters, and all that ever should...

...Is my raptor gee eff.