Summary: ALL THE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD HAVE THEIR OWN UNDERSTANDING OF REALITY. SOME BELIEVE IN HIGHER POWER AND RIGHTEOUS CAUSE, SOME BELIEVE IN THE EVILS OF EVIL KIND AND CHOSE TO ACT ACCORDINGLY, SOME BELIEVE IN PROTECTING THOSE THEY CAN AND ABANDON THE REST… BUT ALL PEOPLE UNDERSTAND ONE LANGUAGE FULLY. AND THAT LANGUAGE IS FEAR. EVERYONE FEARS, NO MATTER THE AGE, THE SOCIAL UPBRINGING OR SPECIES. AND FEAR GIVES WAY TO RESPECT. HOWEVER, FEAR IS A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD, FOR IF ONE EXPERIENCE TOO MUCH OF IT, THEIR RESPECT TURNS TO HATRED, AND THAT IS THE ONLY FORCE IN THE WORLD STRONGER THAN FEAR. AND THE STRONGER YOUR HATRED IS, THE MORE IMMUNE TO FEAR YOU ARE. REMEMBER THAT LESSON. NEVER APOLOGIZE, NEVER SHOW WEAKNESS. NEVER EXPECT TO SURVIVE A DAY. AND ALWAYS TREAT EVERY PERSON AS A POTENTIAL THREAT. DO NOT AWAIT PEACE IN YOUR LIFE, FOR YOUR FATE TO LIVE LIKE A WARRIOR AND TO DIE WITH WEAPON IN YOUR HANDS. FIND COMFORT IN THAT, EMBRACE YOUR HATRED. IT IS NOT EVIL. IT IS ONLY POWER - THE-VOICE-NEAR-YOUR-EAR THE ONE THAT CLUTCHES YOUR FISTS Speaking with kids is something you have very little experience in, so you guess the only reason you have Ripley by your side is to make sure you treat the kid right. Some young officer leads both of you to a secluded park away from a murder scene. You can already hear vulgar, youthful laughter. THIS LAUGHTER BRINGS YOU DISCONTENT. THIS ONE MAY BE DIFFICULT. You exchange looks with Ripley who, like you, is unsure about this whole thing. Bloody kids on these streets are more dangerous than the adults, both for your physical and mental health. You sigh. [Just approach it as you do with adult witnesses for now, and then you'll wing it.] You and Ripley enter a park where, in the middle of it there stands a short kid and… he throws rocks at the tree. Fantastic. This scene looks familiar. Remind you of the days when you've been on the streets. You nod to Ripley and approach the kid. The kid turns to you. Looking at him, you realize you are watching a hybrid dino. A rarity that's for sure. You can clearly see the signs of raptor, but also baryonyx and even a bit of pterodactyl. He does not have wings, but he has a beak, which is a bit shorter than the usual pterodactyl one. His hands are massive for his stature. GOOD HANDS, GOOD FOR FIGHTING, THROWING AND LIFTING. He has a massive tail with feathers on the tip. His scales are orange with a yellow pattern. His eyes are ruby red. In any other place, he would look like any other dino child… but this place is Skin Row, so that must mean… "Ey, you fucking cunt! What are you looking at, you skinnie asshole?" Yup, here it is, the Skin Row Youth you've been expecting. Foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, rude-by-default, authority-disrespecting rascals. THIS ONE HAS A GOOD VOICE. COMMANDING ONE. HE WOULD MAKE A GOOD LEADER ONE DAY. [Calm down there, Rando, breathe in and breathe out. Let's do this.] You take the first step forward to the kid, Ripley takes out a notepad and a pencil. I guess he will mostly sit this one out. "Uh, hi there pal… My name is Officer Rando, I will ask you a couple of questions." DON'T SAY IT IS FOR THE SAKE OF THE CASE. HE WILL IMMEDIATELY SHUT HIS TRAP AND REFUSE TO "RAT PEOPLE OUT". "What's ya deal withit? I am not gonna tell me name to a stranger." SEE. "Kid, I am a police officer, I mean you no harm." "No harm? This makes everything you say sound fucking suspicious." He says it with a grin. You turn to Ripley, but he just shrugs off your silent screams for help. [Rando, just, try to play off his ego, do not let that kid control conversation. Assert yourself, use the cap guy] Oh yes, chief, I know how to make that one talk. "Listen here, kid, I am an adult and you will refer to me as one, now will you answer the damn question, or should I drag you off to the station?" Good, chief, now this kid must appeal to your power of authority and surely he'll comply- "Hey, pigfuck, how about you'd rather suck your own chode. You can't scare me like that!" … or maybe not HE IS NOT AFRAID, THIS IS NOT A BRAVADO. HE TRULY THINKS YOU ARE BENEATH HIM! IT IS TIME TO SHOW HIM WHAT TRUE POWER FEELS LIKE. [No, you should not do that. This is just a kid! You are above him! Avoid violence at all cost!] He looks at you with disdain and spite. He enjoys getting a rise out of you. But there is also a bit of anger. He is annoyed that you don't take him seriously. This kid is one tough customer, brother, using words here may not work. Sometimes actions are necessary. [Rando, Ripley is right there and you promised him to act professionally! Act like a police officer, use your words, not your fist.] NO, FUCK THAT, THIS KID NEEDS TO LEARN THE LESSON IN RESPECT, IF HE WANTS TO PLAY BIG BOYS ALLOW HIM, BUT ALSO MAKE HIM REALIZE THE PRICE OF THAT GAME. RIPLEY WILL UNDERSTAND ONCE HE SEES IT. THIS IS NOT A POLICE BUSINESS, THIS IS THE SKIN ROW WAY OF GREETING! This choice may affect both your and this kid's future. … YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT. You can feel a light jolt going through your body, like electricity through the phone wire. It starts at the back of your head, goes all the way to your feet then up again, until it reaches your right hand, clenching it in a fist. Then it shoots out forward, right into the kid's face. THUD. DOWN HE GOES. The kid falls to the ground with some force. He does not look too hurt though. YOU RESTRAINED A LOT OF YOUR POWER IN ORDER NOT TO HURT THAT KID TOO MUCH. THAT PUNCH WAS JUST ENOUGH TO MAKE THE DINO KID FEEL IT. You can sense Ripley almost jumping from observing what is happening. "What the hell, Rando!" Scream, stern but emotionless. It is like he is going for the kill. YOU ARE NOT SCARED, TELL HIM! TELL HIM HOW IT IS! "RIPLEY! FOR ONE FUCKING MOMENT STAND THERE AND JUST WATCH!" Ripley stops, surprised by your sudden change of demeanor. HE IS NOT SCARED EITHER, JUST CONFUSED, GOOD. CONCENTRATE ON THE KID! The kid is still on the ground, although he is fully conscious, probably he is still just shocked and confused by what just occurred. There is no way he expected a "pigfuck" to actually go through with his threat. He slowly raises himself off the ground. He holds his left eye but shows no signs of pain. HE CRIES NO TEARS. GOOD. THIS KID IS TOUGH. "I believe now we can have a civil conversation, like two respectable living beings?" You raise an eyebrow the same way Ripley does. The kid stands up on his feet, still covering his left eye. He takes a second to balance himself properly, then he looks at you. "... yeah." THIS IS A SIGN OF RESPECT, BUT ALSO OF ACCOMPLISHMENT. SOMEWHERE WITHIN HIM, UNDERNEATH HIS GRIM, BITTER EXPRESSION, HE IS GLAD THAT YOU HIT HIM. BECAUSE THAT MEANS YOU TOOK HIM SERIOUSLY. "You are not a normal coppa, aren't ya? You act like you own the street. Show no mercy to those who dare to throw insults at you… I can respect that." He let go of his eye, and you can see that some of the scales were damaged a bit, but otherwise, he looks fine. "Good, this is what it means being on the streets of Skin Row, kid. If you can't back up your words with a good fist to the face, you will be chilling in some alley with your teeth missing." "Yeah, I hear that. The fuckin coppas are all pussies… but you are not… names Warrick." "Nice to meet you at last, Warrick." You turn to Ripley with a smug smile. He steps back and once again concentrates on his notepad. You can hear him whisper "I cannot believe this has worked". "I guess you are gonna ask about them dead man in that wet basement." "Yes, do you know anything about it?" "That the guy is probably an asshole. I only managed to see his body for a second, but I already could tell you that he deserved everything that happened to him." HE IS WAY TO COMPOSED FOR A KID WHO JUST SAW A DEAD BODY. He got used to it, living on these streets. You can sense that it wasn't even the worst dead body he encountered. Somewhere far away from here lies a body underneath trash and bricks, in one of the abandoned buildings up north. The damage done to it was massive, as its head was hanging by a singular thread of flesh. One named Warrick has found it while finding a place to play his little make-believe games. Warrick was never scared, but the stench did make him sick. After that, he learned, that there is nothing to be scared of near the dead body, for it cannot do you any harm. "The cunt was probably put there by those weirdo-men with patches on their shoulders." Patches huh? It used to be common back in the 90s and early 2000s. But not anymore, too many risks involve wearing your colors open. "Can you tell me what those patches looked like?" "Aye, they looked like two rifles crossed. Oh, and-and behind two rifles there was a white star." Two rifles and the star… it sounds familiar. Chief, we made a mistake earlier. Remember how we thought that there were only 13 tribes running the streets? We forgot another one, the 14th one. They are not criminals, but they do act outside the boundaries of the law. The district-wide militia that was forged to deal with situations where police fail. They call themselves "Skin Row Neighborhood Watch". Or, as it is called by locals, Neighbor Union. FORMAL SOLDIERS, RETIRED OFFICERS OF THE LAW, WORKERS, HOMELESS, EX-THUGS AND GANGSTERS. AN ARMY MADE OF SKIN ROW PEOPLE WHO ARE TIRED OF BEING AFRAID. TIRED OF RELYING ON OTHERS. BUT THEY ARE NOT WARRIORS. THEY ARE NIGHT GUARD. This means they are not as well organized as police officers and still suffer from corruption, authority abuse and many other misconducts. Although, while in the police these crimes are met with legal procedure, here they are met with cold steel and fire. Ripley takes the notes. It is easy to assume he is also aware of the local militia gang. They had a few encounters with the police a few times in the past. We mostly tolerate each other, simply because we don't have any reason to fight each other. The only issue comes when the Neighbor Union interferes with your investigations. You HOPE this is not the situation like that. "Alright, Warrick. Why do you think these "weirdo-men" are responsible for the kill?" "Because they love to hang out in dat basement." This just became more difficult. It is not uncommon for the Neighbor Union to perform "summary executions" on criminals, however, it is also quite a procedure for the NU to justify the murder of the criminal. Usually, it is the case when the culprit is too dangerous to leave alive. And members of Jurassic Sunrise are not exactly dangerous, at least not anymore. So why? A dispute? Rouge member affairs? "Hey, Kid, are you sure they are the ones responsible for the murder? I mean, have you seen them dropping the body there?" "So, they brought the guy already dead there?" This kid is sharper than he looks. "Nah, I did not see them. Imma not the type of a person to spy on people. I just saw them carrying crates and shit." So Warrick did not observe murder being committed. He just assumed that it was the Neighbor Union who did this based on the location… wait… "You only saw them carrying crates inside? Was any one of them looking like this?" You pull out your phone and show the kid the picture of the weapons crate from the basement. Thank you, Raptor Jesus, for the miracle of digital tech. He looks at it for a moment. "Yeah, they used to carry these boxes in and out a few months ago. Yup. One time looked inside, saw a bunch of vests and shit. Some guns too. Stole me a pistol, tried to sell it. Some coppa found out and while running away I lost it." So he was aware of what is inside the boxes, I mean, rascals are curious and… [Rando, have you heard that? What did this boy say?] "A few months ago?" "Yeah, the last time I saw anyone there was a month ago, and most of them stopped coming somewhere around 3 months ago. They haven't been there since." This is an interesting chief. So this is a no longer operational "outpost". Need to wait for the expert's analysis, but you are confident that the weapon crate contains the weapon that is no longer suitable for use. Why leave it there otherwise? Hmmm… "Can you describe them "weirdo-men"?" Weirdo-men… you like that word for some reason. "Just some random dinos and skinnies. Don't remember much. Most of the time their faces were hidden." Well, that doesn't help the case in any way. Wait, sir, there is one member of the Neighbor Union that you know. You met him a year ago. In the lonesome pizzeria the night you vowed to yourself to complete a personal case for the sake of your best friend. Red scales, hopeful look, idealistic mannerisms. Perfect mold for the Militia Group whose goal is to protect the peace in Skin Row. [It is that guy, he is your main lead in this case. You have to interrogate him. The first thing to do on Monday is…] No need to wait for Monday, brother, you know full well where he is at the moment. Down the street, behind the abandoned arcade hall a group of young but tired musicians preparing for practice. There are three of them. All of them have secrets which they are not intending to share. But one secret amongst them will never be revealed even years from now on. It is hidden by the most hopeful of them all. Stepan. Stepan Kuznetsov. The young student, and the jack-of-all-trades musician. He is a member of the Neighbor Union. Has been for at least a year. You don't know how far up the hierarchy ladder he is, but he must know something. Chief, the kid in front of you is brainstorming… listen to his idea. "Actually, now that I think about it, I know one of them!" "Oh?" "Yeah, there is this strange guy amongst them. Bookworm type, the one that looks like he reads math books for fun." That might be Stepan. "Can you tell me what type of person they are?" "A dino" "Right, and what kind?" "Listen, listen! I am not a pathologist-" You don't think he knows what that word means… "I don't know anything about those dino-type crap. A dino is a dino, simple as…" He says it with an almost sad intonation. You can sense that the reason why he doesn't know anything about dino types is the fact that he cannot relate to any of them. Every time someone mentions dino types to him, he is reminded that, for the others, he is a freak of nature. "No issue kid, you probably remember how they look though, right? You can describe them to me and we can…" "Describe them? Why, I know where they are hidin'" Hm, it seems just like you this kid have been snooping around the garages, strange that you never noticed him before. Chief, this kid doesn't need to be with you, you know where Stepan is, but this kid believes that he can help. He may hide it behind gangster wannabe bravado, but he wants to follow you, but why? THAT STEPAN MAY DONE SOMETHING TO WARRICK, WHO NOW SEEKS VENGEANCE. Or maybe he just wants to… tag along? Brother, this kid looks like he severely lacks contact with anyone, you might as well be the first person in the while who decided to talk to him. [This is nonsense, he is a kid. Kids aren't capable of assisting in solving crimes. You've already done enough, the testimony is in your hands, just send this kid home and go to the fucking garages] Damn, decisions, decisions, decisions… … God damn it, why not. Chief, this kid may become an important member of your squad someday, so maybe you should give him a push. Take him under your wing, he will certainly be useful. "Heh, kid, you just maybe became a partner in this mystery." "Partner? Pfff, I ain't no pigfuck! I am helping you so that you can beat up the guy who took away my knife!" TOLD YA. "Alright alright, kid. Maybe we will beat him up, but before he coughs up all the info I need he won't suffer any harm… well, physical one." "Bitchin" Before you could continue with your train of thoughts, you realized that you completely forgot about Ripley, who stopped taking notes, crossed his arms and now watches you with a raised eyebrow. "Are you serious? No joke?" you can sense it. Ripley is anything but subtle. "Sorry, boss, we're gonna do some damage. Can't have the "by the book" pig with us." You say this to Ripley while giving him a wink. He rolls his eyes before he sighs. "Yeah yeah, if you think this will help the case I don't really care." Good, use that kid as a perfect excuse to leave Ripley behind for now, he is not yet ready to meet his daughter. " Alright, kid, show the way. Cannot wait to talk with that fuckhead." "Fuck yes. Finally, have meself a personal dirt cop. We gonna fuck some shit up and send that wannabe good guy fucker to the fucking hospital." … YOU LIKE THIS KID. The kid bordered the prances toward the main road as Ripley left standing behind. When you reach the road suddenly a familiar figure appears at the corner of your field of vision. * On the other side of the street. Maybe less than 10 meters. A person walks by, wearing a dark sweater and beanie hat. He has both of his arms in his pockets and he slouches quite a bit. Could this be… A SMILE APPEARS ON YOUR FACE… THIS MIGHT BE INTERESTING. "Hey, kid, what you are about to see will stay between us, got it?" "I ain't no snitch. You can trust me with ya secrets." Let us follow that figure, brother. This can potentially allow us to kill two birds with one stone. *** Finally, the Steed Penny Street. It felt like ages walking here, but I looked at the clock and saw that I was slightly early. Man, my legs hurt… I just realized that it has been the longest walk I have had in a while. I really let myself go in the last few weeks, eh? Not that I am complaining, I am glad to have a good reason to be outside. Hard to believe that only a few days ago I would rather just lie in my bed and wait for the evening to come, but now not only do I go outside, I am also planning to socialize with people. Or at least try to… Fuck, there are more police cars here. Did somebody die here? I hope Fang is alright… but it seems that all the police go to the other side of the street. Good, but I am better off hurrying up before the local cops start to suspect me of something. Now, I believe I need to cross the road here and then turn left and I will see the arcade hall Fang talked about. … Why does it feel like I am being observed? Man, Anon, being inside your gloomy apartment really done bad things to your mental health, you are starting to show the signs of paranoia. Just ignore it and continue walking, looking around with so many police officers nearby will attract unwanted attention. I cross the road and continue walking. Here it is again. Ignore it, Anon, it will go away. I turn left and see it. A big, crooked sign on top of the building. You can see the sockets where the light bulbs should be, now completely empty and rusted. The painting on the sign is falling off, but even now, all these years later after this place was closed down, you can still see the name of it. "Penny Arcade Hall". The biggest penny stealer in the Skin Row from the times before I was born. As you approach it, you can see that the building is almost barren, devoid of everything: windows, arcade machines, even carpet and wall paint. The place is the very definition of an architectural skeleton. You are surprised that, somehow, it is still standing and isn't collapsing under its own weight. Something about this building grabs my attention. I can imagine that it used to be quite important for some back in the day. People coming here after school to hang out and spend some time playing games, children begging their parents for one extra quarter to beat that one stage, some poor college kid getting his first gig here to earn extra pocket money… I can almost envision the past of this place, the memories of those who hold this place dear. And it makes me feel nauseous. For a moment I lose my footing and am forced to use the wall of the abandoned arcade hall as a support. God, Anon, get yourself together and hold it tight! Do not fall apart on me now! Man, I feel sick. Why am I here? What is the point? None of it matters, I… Damn. I push myself off the wall and compose myself. Right, I am here to meet Fang, I am here to help her. If nothing in this world matters, Fang is an exception. I push through everything and continue walking. That's right, she told me that there are garages behind this arcade hall, right? … Here we are, after passing through the driveway on the right side of Arcade Hall I found a set of garages. A long line of buildings of different sizes all made to house cars from your basic family ones to trucks and vans. It must have been where all the local business owners would leave their cars during work hours or swap them for their work vehicles. Also, there is no asphalt here. The ground beneath me is earth and grass… Well, small patches of grass drowning in semi-liquid dirt. Surprisingly, some of the garages are still being used, I can see the tire prints leading into different gates. But many of them look abandoned. Some look like they haven't been used in decades. While walking amongst ghosts of the buildings, I see Fang standing just a bit further away. After she notices me, she waves her hand to me. Well, better to hurry up then, don't want to keep her waiting. As I approach her, I am met with amber, jaded eyes… She has a smile on her face, but I can tell that it is forced. Well, it is not like I am not guilty of the same thing, as I try to smile in return. "Hey, dweeb." "Hey, Fang." Silence, I feel uneasy. What should I even say? Come on, say something normal, or casual, like talking to a… classmate? Damn, I haven't talked to anyone properly in the last 3 years, yesterday was an exception and it was more like I dunno, a therapy? What should I- Suddenly, I feel the slap on the back. "You think too much, Anon. Come on, relax." I see Fang by my side. Damn, I must have blacked out for a second trying to act normal. "Anon, you were never normal." Her smile seems more genuine now, but her eyes are still as tired as they were a moment ago. I guess she must have suffered a lot in the last 3 years. That won't disappear in a day. Small steps, Anon, small steps. "Anyway, are you planning to go inside? Or did you decide to grow roots and become a tree?" She points with her hand at the opened garage not too far. You can feel warm light illuminating from the inside. Alright, Anon, time to be the most friendliest asshole you can be. "... Lead the way." And I follow her. We walk to the garage and I already can hear something playing from the inside. I think it is a synth? Yes, definitely a synth. As I go inside, I see a small stage in the back end of the garage room. On the stage, there is a red parasaurolophus in a long, formless plane black shirt behind the keyboard. At first, he does not notice your presence, but once he stops playing some simple melody and lifts his gaze, his face immediately contorts… Is that supposed to be a smile? He stands up from the stool he has been sitting on and then leaves the stage to be on the same level as me. He stretches his arm to me. "Good morning and hello. My name is Stepan. I am a member of the "Silver Line". You must be Fang's…" "Friend, he is my friend." Friend huh? She really meant it. Not gonna lie, it feels good to be called a friend. "Right… Anyway, mister..?" I reach my hand to him and we share a firm handshake. Surprisingly enough, despite his lanky stature, he is rather strong. "Anon Mous. Nice to meet you." He nods. He is the first to pull his hand away from the handshake. Well, maybe he doesn't trust me. I guess knowing Fang is not enough for him, but hey, I was worse all the way back in high school. "Be nice, Stepan." "I am, what are you talking about?" … Scratch that, maybe he is just as antisocial as me. He's just not being an asshole about it. "Sorry if I appear rude, not used to strangers. Anyway, I heard you and Fang have known each other since high school?" There it is again, the way he speaks does not look like he is trying to make small talk. It feels like some kind of probing, like an interrogation. "Yes, well, I've been out of town for the last 3 years, so we haven't met each other in a while." "Ah yes, she said the same thing to me…" He sounds like a police officer, what the hell is this? "Sorry, I had to be sure. I know a lot of people who will try to take advantage of people like Fang. And you look the part." Suddenly, I feel awful. I mean, he isn't wrong. I did take advantage of Fang all the way back in- "Stepan, stop it. You're not just acting rude, you are acting hostile." "S-sorry…" Did Fang just… defend me? How pathetic can I be? Damn, I feel sick… "Are… Are you alright, sir? You look like you are about to pass out…" Anon, keep yourself together… Just don't think about anything, you are a master at it, act like an idiot and maybe this… everything will go away. Am I breathing? Why do I feel so lightheaded? "Anon, sit down…" I can sense Fang helping me to regain my balance and helping me to sit down on a small chair in front of the stage. She looks at Stepan, shooting daggers at him. "Stepan, I expected something like that from Dude, not from you…" "What?... What did I just do?" "Just bring some water." Stepan immediately leaves the room through the door at the back. I slowly regain my breath. My eyes become watery and my heart beats like crazy. "I'm… sorry… please, I am so sorry." "It is fine Anon, calm down. Nobody accuses you of anything." She crouched in front of me to meet my eyes on the same level. Her expression is one of worry. Good job, Anon, you fucking up everything again. Because of you, Fang is in a bad spot and- "Anon, stop it!" "Did… Did I mumble?" "No, but I can see what you are thinking about by looking at you. Just relax, you haven't done anything wrong." I haven't? Well, yes, I guess I haven't. What was even that about? One moment I am here, the other I am… Stepan returns from the backroom with a bottle of water. "Here, I opened it." I immediately take it and chug almost an entire bottle down my throat. I feel my body slowly returning to normal. I can feel my heartbeat again, hell, even my legs stopped hurting. I guess this thing was building up all the way from home. "Thanks, Stepan…" "No problem. Sorry about that… Whatever it was…" Anon, now is your chance to redeem everything, with a half-truth of course. "Don't worry, it happens from time to time ever since I returned from the Navy." "Huh? You were in the military?" "Yeah, I had to go there, since I was not good enough for any college and… well, my parents were quite adamant about me going either there or into service. I guess, when you asked me about my past I just remembered the most unpleasant memories…" "Damn, I am sorry, if I knew I wouldn't have tried to dig up your past." "It is fine, really. I know you just want to make sure that Fang is safe. And I appreciate that." Stepan looks to the side, trying to hide his shame. I'm sorry man, but I don't know you well enough to tell you the whole truth just yet. "Thanks… but it doesn't make me feel better. Just so we are clear, I am sorry." I nod to him. "Anyway, I am gonna go call Dude here. For now, just relax. Fang, I am sorry for harassing your friend." "It's fine, Stepan, just don't do that again." Stepan leaves the room and goes back to the… room in the back. "Your friend is quite inquisitive." "Yeah, he can be like that… Anon?" I look at Fang. But for some reason, my eyes avoid her gaze. "Anon… are you really okay?" "Yeah, just… I don't know… yes?" "Anon, please, you scared me back there. Your body was shaking and your eyes were darting like crazy… It was looking quite bad." Damn it, Anon, can you not fuck up everything at least once? "I am a fucking mess…" "Yesh, you are Anon, I am not going to sugarcoat it. I mean, you were just panicking from talking… How can you even work when you are like that?" "I am so-" "Do not apologize, please. Just stay quiet for the moment." I do not pronounce a word. Fang just stood up and turned her back to me. I see her grasping her head with both of her hands. I want to reach out to her… but what can I do? All I do is make her suffer! I am just repeating the same mistake that I made back in Volcano High. I am making it all about me. I want to stand up and run away. To the arcade hall, to my apartment, to the sea, anywhere but here. Suddenly, Fang lets go of her head and turns back to me. Her usually tired eyes had some glimmer to them. "Anon, we will talk about it later, for now, I want you to meet and talk to my friends. Then we will have practice and you will give us your feedback. After that, we will talk about possible venues. Got it?" This made me feel better for some reason. To be relied on… I haven't experienced this in quite a while. I slowly raise myself from the chair. Fang flinches a bit, almost as if she is preparing to catch me if I fall down, but there is no need for this. I compose myself and feel my body. Yup, everything works just fine. "Fang, you're right. We have work to do, no time to be moping around. Let's do this." … Fang gives me a faint smile. At this moment, Stepan returns to the room, followed by a familiar figure. He is a drummer of the Fang's band. "Ah, fresh meat on the table, and he is a human!" This strange purple raptor gives me the creepiest kind of smile. Is he sizing me up? "Ha, you are built quite well, pal! Let me guess, a Navy?" "Huh?" Fang approached this purple raptor and punched him in the shoulder. "Cut it out, Dude." "Sorry, sorry." Fang did not hold back there. This guy means business. "Name is Henry Donovan… Please do not call me that, everyone around calls me Dude, or That Dude." He reaches his hand to me for a handshake. I comply. This one is… OW OW OW OW!!! I CAN FEEL MY BONES GRINDING AGAINST EACH OTHER!!! Before I could show any discomfort though, That Dude let go of my hand. His smile became even wider. "You know they can say a lot about a person by his handshake?" Huh? What does that mean? And why does Fang look at him like she is about to commit homicide? Suddenly, Dude's expression changes to a more neutral one. "And what I say is… you are fine, not a killer. 2-3 years of service?" How did he do it? "As they say, it takes one to know one. I served for 6 in the military. And you remind me of a lot of humies from back in the day." Damn, no wonder this guy is strong. He probably has some experience killing people as well. Better not to get on his bad side. His smile returns. "So, you are that illusive Anon that Fang was talking about, nice to finally meet you." "Yeah… Likewise." Damn, my wrist still hurts. "So, what are you here for? Wanna join our little party of losers?" Dude is probably the most friendliest member of the band, yet the most homicidal. Somehow I feel more in danger being in the same room as him, than with Mister Rude over there… Damn it, Anon, stop doing this cynical shit. Assuming everything bad about others is bad. "Nah, I don't know how to play any of the instruments… I mean, I was interested, but-" Damn, why am I remembering the midterms preparations with Fang? "It never really took off. Anyway, I just want to help you in the way I know how." "May I ask, why do you want to help us?" Stepan being his inquisitive self. "Well, to be fair, I owe Fang a big one. She, well, something happened and I want to make things right. I want to help her achieve her dream…" Fang covers her face. I can hear her whisper "fucking dweeb". "But also, you guys don't even realize how good you sound. I mean, it is unfair that you are playing at some shitty pizzeria in the middle of nowhere rather than a real venue." "Hm? You really think we are that good? Really?" Stepan raises an eyebrow. "Well, yes!" "If we are this good, then why are we still here in Skin Row?" I know the answer, it is just I need to word it properly. "Well, Stepan, it is because of BEING in the Skin Row. Especially in some forgotten part of it. You need to remember that everyone here is hopeless and broken. Nobody notices you, because they are stuck in their own world with their own issues. For many here, they are the only people in the world." Everyone is fighting their own battles . "Because of that, you need to make them see who you are. Make them realize that they are not alone here. And the only way to make that happen is to play somewhere where people actively come to listen to music!" "I mean, I don't care what people think or if they listen to our music… I just enjoy playing it!" Ah, so the Dude has a lot in common with Reed in that regard. "Yeah, but think about how awesome it would be if you played on a real stage!" "Well, when you put it like that… It will be fun to have a crowd bigger than 30 people." "See? Now that is ambition… the good kind. Listen, I will not pretend to know anything about music, but, as I recently found out, I am honest to a fault, so I can't lie to you even if I try. I believe this makes me the best advisor possible." Dude and Stepan exchange looks, while Fang tries her damn hardest not to laugh at me being a "dweeb". "I mean… I am not against it, but…" "Oh come on you two, give him a chance. He can be really helpful when he wants to be." Thanks, Fang… Real big help trying to support me while sounding like you just saw the best stand-up show. "Yeah, Stepan, having such a stick up your ass does you a disservice! Let the new guy see us practice, maybe he can come up with something good!" That is actually not a bad idea, only one more thing… "Actually… you don't mind if I record your practice as well? Just for reference?" … I believe I just saw Stepan's eye twitch. *** Without the pressure from the public the "Silver Line" band is actually pretty good. Not that they were ever bad, but without the need to appeal to anyone they were actually several times better than ever. Dude just plays the drums at his own rhythm, but somehow he plays in sync with the other members. Stepan is still a bit stiff, but at the same time, I cannot deny that he has some skill. He decided to play guitar during the practice but something about his style of play tells me that he feels a bit uncomfortable. And then there is Fang. She plays the bass and does so masterfully, she truly improved in the last 3 years… But the sound was still off. When I looked at Fang playing the bass, she constantly looked like she was struggling. Her arms were tense, her legs were glued to the ground, she slouched a lot, and her eyebrows twitched every time she almost missed a note. It looked like playing bass was causing her a lot of pain. Not a physical one, but an emotional one. When on stage at Pizza Time she looked exhausted, tired, and broken, but here she looks different, as if she is… Afraid. She is afraid of something. But what? She is good… Maybe… I rewatched the recording several times. And every time it seems like Fang is terrified. I am digging through many ideas that appear inside my head, but none of them stick… I looked at the paused video for so long that the phone's screen turned off and I saw my own reflection in it. I think I got it. "Fang, can you come here for a second?" Fang was talking to Stepan and Dude, but when she heard me, she immediately left their circle to join me. "Yeah, what is the verdict, judge?" She has a mischievous smile which does not suit her current look… But this gap between her personality and her looks makes her appear kinda cute. "I didn't mumble that one out loud, didn't I?" "I don't know, did you?" For some reason, her behavior here seems… forced? Is she trying to hide her embarrassment and fear? "Fang, is that day still affecting you?" "What day?" "You know which one I am talking about." Yes, the day, the first day of the second semester of senior year in Volcano High. The day when Fang and VVURM DRAMA performed live in front of, what felt like, an entire school. Back then I… "Fang, I won't be laughing, you know that, right?" "God damn it, Anon, I know. It's just that…" "Fang, you don't really want to play bass, do you?" Fang's expression changed as her wings spread out in different directions. Bullseye. "Fang, there is nobody to force you to play it anymore, so why don't you pass the bass to-" "No…" Hm? "What do you mean no?" "I mean no, I won't Anon." "But why? I know you can play a guitar, I have seen it. I bet if you play guitar you-" "You don't get it?! Listen, I know that I can play the guitar! I know that! But if I change the instruments, if I switch to guitar, then… then that means…" They were right, it seems she wants to say that, or maybe… "Fang, back then I was not trying to prove anything, I was just giving you honest advice." "I-I know, but back then I didn't listen to you, I just allowed Trish to force me back into playing bass and I couldn't fight back. If only I was stronger back then I…" "Fang, you are strong." "No, I am not… I am scared, I am scared of the possibility that you are right. That you were right. That if I play the guitar everything will be better! And if that is the case, then it means that all the failures that I have experienced back in school could have been avoided, if I were more stern." Ah, I see. She is not afraid of me being proven right, she is afraid of accepting the fact that many of her failures could have been avoided. Well, I guess I need to be a dweeb for her. "Listen, Fang… This is stupid." "Huh?" She is not angry or even surprised. More like confused. She probably was expecting to play into her misery, but I cannot allow that. "Fang, what happened back then will still happen even if you hold on to this childish idea. Even if you prove the world wrong, the fact that it used to laugh at you will still be prevalent. It will be a victory, but it will be a Pyrrhic one. You will lose so much time and spend so much effort that by the end it won't matter." I know how hypocritical I sound right now, but maybe it is the only time being an asshole will actually be good in the long run. "Fang, you have nothing to prove to anyone. Not the losers from that concert, not to Trish, not to me. Because there is nothing to prove. You are a good musician and that is a fact. Maybe not a rockstar yet, but we will get there. For now, you must concentrate on the here and now. I made a mistake living with my past mistakes, and yesterday I almost died because of that… but you gave me a second chance. To life and to this friendship of ours. And now, I want to give you the same gift. Forget what happened back then, it isn't important anymore. What is important is you who is here… and…" Before I could finish, Fang looked at me with an expression I never thought I'd see. For a moment it felt that all the exhaustion, all the despair that was etched onto her face was gone, and it was Fang all the way from the past looking at me. A ghost of the good times. A few days ago such an expression would have only appeared in my dreams, and it would have ruined me. But seeing it now, here in real life, it fills my heart with hope… I am once again reminded, that even after three years of suffering, of telling myself that I don't need anyone, that I don't deserve anything because I don't need anything… even after I convinced myself that I will die alone and abandoned… I still love Fang. God, I hope I didn't mumble it. "Thanks, Anon… I really needed to hear this." "Not going to call me dweeb now?" "Maybe a bit later, but right now all I want to say is thank you." "Thank you". Two words. It took only two words to bring me to the verge of tears. How did I earn to hear these words coming from this person? The words I never got to hear because I messed everything up. Come on, Anon, you are being relied on, act like a man for once. "You're wElcOme!" Fucking hell, my voice cracked. Fang took notice of it and… she giggled. Well, never said that I can do everything perfectly, only that I will try, but… I am glad that she is laughing, even if it is at my expense. "Anon, every day with you feels like comedy. This is a unique talent, maybe you should become an actor." "Yeah, only after you become a rockstar" "Oh? Is that a challenge? I would become world number one superstar just to see you perform on stage!" "How do you know I won't be killing it?" "True. You probably somehow will accidentally disassemble an entire stage trying to step off the platform and let the entire set collapse onto the audience. Now that would be a killing." Man, this banter reminds me of the times in school. I will continue to play this game, but a sense of duty prevails. "Well, seeing me embarrassing myself on stage should be a good enough motivation for you to try to play guitar?" "Hmmm, I guess it is. I will try." She is still a bit nervous, but I can see a newborn confidence in her eyes. She turns away and… "Stepan, how about we swap the instruments for this one?" "Huh? Can you even play the guitar? I've never even once seen you try." "Well, we are about to find out." Dude smiled enthusiastically, probably expecting audible carnage, and Stepan was holding bass nervously and he held it… strangely. His left hand was bending over the griff, not under it. But the grip was firm. And Fang was holding a guitar, probably for the first time in years. Her hands tremble a bit, but she steels them with her newfound will. "Alright, Stepan, Dude. Let's do this as if we were on the stadium stage! And one, and two and…" And then the world was gone. Dissolved into the sea of sound and wonder. *** This was amazing! No, really, it was this good. This performance blows the last out of the water and into the stratosphere. Everything about it was great. Dude, for the first time, felt like he was performing alongside his fellow bandmates, rather than being his own thing and accidentally being in sync. Stepan was surprisingly good with the bass. I must say, his way of holding it was unorthodox, but he played almost perfectly. Never once did he miss a note. It is almost like he was born to play bass. And Fang, Raptor Jesus, Fang was… there is not a single word in my vocabulary to properly describe her. Great? Awesome? Inspiring? All of these are a pale imitation of what I witnessed at this very moment. Fang looked like she was a star, and even as tattered, tired and broken as she looked, she shines brighter than a star right now. She truly took the first step towards achieving her dream. As the practice was coming to an end, all of the members were visibly tired. Dude fell onto his drum set and fell asleep immediately. Stepan was breathing like he was running a marathon and Fang's legs were barely supporting her. I recorded almost every moment of their practice for future research, but you cannot even compare recording to the real deal. "So, how is everyone doing?" "Never… better…" Damn, I did not know Stepan is capable of friendly sarcasm… or smiling. It seems like he is genuinely happy with how things turned out. Dude was checked out, so I turned to Fang, who was struggling to stay up. I reach out my hand to her. "Well, how was it?" She says as she takes my hand. "Like a dream come true." I said smugly, as I helped Fang to get off the stage. I look at the clock… They practiced for almost an hour without stopping. It does not look like much time has passed, but the amount of energy they have put into this singular hour felt like they were practicing for ages. I sat Fang on the same chair I was having a panic attack on and crouched to meet Fang's eyes. Oh, how the roles have reversed. "Shut up, dweeb." She says with a smile. Everything seemed perfect, there was hope in the air. And then all of us heard slow clapping. We were too distracted by practice, we hadn't even noticed as some stranger entered the garage. We all collectively turned towards the entry. There was standing a… human? That is rare, although I said the same thing yesterday when I encountered that drunk hobo. Hmm, this guy looks familiar. He was wearing a long blue coat with a big collar. His head was perfectly shaved, and he had a short 5 o'clock shadow. He looked positively intimidating. He was also accompanied by a dino kid, who looked like a genetic jenga. I have never seen a hybrid like this. The dino kid was dressed in some shitty cloth jacket and a plain white t-shirt. His pants were torn in many places. He was looking like a delinquent. The man in a coat claps for a few more seconds, before stopping and then he performs a gesture that can only be described as "overdramatic finger guns". "What a wonderful performance! I must admit, this is your best one yet!" His voice sounded genuine, but some primordial fear within me was signalling danger. When I look closely, my worst fears are confirmed. On his coat on the left side of it, I can see four capital yellow letters. "VBPD". Fuck, this is a cop. What is he doing here? I look around and realize, I am not the only one who figured it out. Fang was tensing up on her chair, Dude slowly stood up from his drum set and Stepan was reaching for something behind his back. The police officer notices the change of atmosphere in the room. "Ah, come on everyone, can't an officer of law enjoy some music? We are people too." His voice was mocking us. As if he knew that we couldn't do anything, or were too afraid to do anything. I noticed that my hand instinctively grabbed Fang's… Only now I noticed that she was shivering. "He found me… he is going to drag me back… I can't…" Fang was whispering to herself. I quickly figured something out. Her father is a commissioner and this cop obviously answers to him. I looked around to see if anyone noticed Fang's behavior, only to notice that both Dude and Stepand were paying all of their attention to the cop in the gateway. He looks at us. Something within his head clicks. Did… did he figure out who Fang was? No, he is looking at me. "Why, hello there, good to see that you are still alive and well! After all… We humans must stick together, especially in parts of the town like this!" Wait, this line, I believe I heard it somewhere before. But where… Does anyone else hear that static or just me? "Oh, and Miss Fang, it is good to finally meet you. I am a big fan." Fang looks to the ground, her hands shaking even more erratic. Seriously, does anyone hear that static? What is this? My head hurts so fucking much! When this guy looks at me, I feel a tremendous amount of pressure, like the entire world just collapsed on me… Wait, this feeling is very familiar. Suddenly, I remember having experienced the same dread before… Yesterday, before I was planning to end it all, I met a homeless-looking guy at the pizzeria, could it be?.. "Are-are you Mister Erson?" "Woo boy, and they call me a detective, which reminds me." The man takes something out of his jacket. A small plastic card. On it, I can see the same letter as on his jacket. VBPD. "Detective Rando P. Erson of the Volcadera Bluff's police department. I am here to ask a couple of questions." This guy is a cop? This guy looks like nothing like one. He looks more like a thug who just found someone to beat the money out of. "Mister Anon." "Y-yes?" "I appreciate constructive criticism, however, please, show more respect to your seniors." Did… Did he read my thoughts? No, I probably just mumbled. Wait, how did he hear that? He is quite far away from me. Before I could say anything in return, Stepan took a step forward. "Officer, you cannot enter this place without a permit." Stepan tries to appeal to Rando's sense of morality. The latter just scoffed at that remark. "Sir, this only applies to the legally owned property. When it comes to squatters who resign on the territory without any legal right to do so, it is a free game." Wait, this is not Fang's band garage? I mean, it should be obvious, where would they get the money to buy or rent one? Stepan took another step forward, one of his hands still behind his back. "Officer, I would highly recommend you to-" Suddenly, Detective Rando does the "talk to the hand" gesture… but with his grin and menacing aura, it looks more like a "your soul is mine" pose. "Sir, and I'd recommend to get that hand off your little toy, or you risk losing more than a few years of your lifespan." I finally realized what Stepan was doing. I never noticed it, because he was wearing the long shirt that was covering his belt, but now that I look at it, it is clear as day. There is a small gun hidden behind him on his belt. Realizing that he was found out, Stepan raises two of his hands. "Good. I did not want to use mine as well, now we can talk like normal people, right?" "Of all the police officers that could have arrived here, it must be you, Officer 13…" Officer 13? What is that? Some kind of street name? I looked at Fang who… was looking at Stepan with a surprised expression. I think she also noticed that he has a gun and I can presume never thought that Stepan is that kind of guy. "Listen, Officer Erson, we are doing nothing wrong, we just…" "Yeah yeah, I've seen it, this is not the reason why I am here." "Oh?" Stepan is handling himself well, considering the situation. Then suddenly, the kid who was accompanying the Detective raised his hand and pointed at Stepan. "This is him! This is a fuckhead who stole my knife!" Stepan looks at the kid, I can see his eyebrows rising. "Wait, is that you Warrick? What is this all about?" "I got meself a dirt pigfuck. He's gonna beat the shit out of you, teach you a lesson. He's gonna punch your lights out and drop your body into the bay." I never knew kids this young could be THIS rude, at least here in Volcadera Bluff. "What?" Stepan is genuinely confused. "We found you stinkin basement and a dead man the-" Before the kid could continue, he received a light slap at the back of his head from the Detective. "That's enough, Warrick… No need to spoil all the fun." The kid rubs his head, but it does not look like he has been hurt. The Detective took a few steps towards Stepan, who once again took the defensive stand, hiding his right hand behind his back. Now Detective and Stepan were at arms reach. "I don't know what this kid is talking about, Officer. My family does not own a basement. We live in a tiny apartment away from here…" "Oh, I understand, mister?.." "Stepan…" I guess even Stepan realized that he is backed into the corner, so there is no point in lying… but what is it all about? Dead body in the basement? Did Stepan kill someone? "Right, Mister Stepan. You see, some people have one family. Some have two, like that girl there." He pointed at Fang. "And some have three, isn't that right, mister Neighborhood Watchman." Hearing these words made Stepan back down a bit. "How did you…" "This kid testified seeing you running with star-rifle guys. Multiple times. He also stated that you took his knife, which I presume happened when you were performing duty as their patrolman. Besides…" The Detective moved in a way to peek behind Stepan's back. "Guns here are rare. Too expensive and loud. Attract unwanted attention as well. The only people here carrying them are cops, gangbangers and… self-proclaimed militia." Stepan did not move an inch, but I could sense his inner self screaming in terror as this monster of a human looked right through him. It was like observing a hunter suddenly encountering a beat that is impervious to any harm. "Wha-what does it have to do with anything?" "Well, you see, we have a good reason to suspect that one of the local basements was used by your gang as a form of outpost or storage area where you were keeping the guns for your boys. We found a crate there full of weapons… and a body." When the last line was said, Stepan reacted in a way that I was not expecting. He took something out from his back and tried to point it at the Detective, who promptly landed his fist right into Stepan's snout. The latter went down like a sack of bricks and something went flying across the room. I was shocked. When I served in the Navy, we humans were always warned to never enter a close-quarters fight with a dino. They are usually stronger, more agile and durable, have claws and teeth, and are also heavier than humans. Even herbivores are capable of mauling a human to death on average. Yet here I witness a normal human, without any weapons or tricks, bringing down a dino with ease. The room went silent, Dude was standing there with anger in his eyes. I don't know what he was trying to do, but he was probably searching for an opening to end this madness. Fang was looking somewhere. I looked in the same direction and saw a small revolver lying on the ground a few feet away from Stepan. So I was right, he had a gun on him. As Stepan, who was lying on his back on the floor, tried to crawl away, the Detective stepped on his chest to prevent him from escaping. "Bad move, friend. Don't tell me that I did not warn you." "Yes, kick his ass, pigfuck!" The kid was cheering for the Detective. "Now that we are both calm, you can start by telling me your position within your group." "... teaching kids to not run around with pointy objects." Did… Did Stepan just try to mock the Detective? Is he mad? He is at such a disadvantage, if Rando decides so, he could probably end him by stepping on his head!.. And that is exactly what happened. The Detective lifted his leg and proceeded to stomp on Stepan's head. I could see rage and sadistic intent in his eyes which were glowing like two searchlights. An evil, crooked smile was decorating his face. "Wrong. Answer. Fuckhead." Stepan was struggling, trying to get off the boot of his face. He tried to remain silent, but the pain from being slowly crushed to death caused him to whimper. Before the situation could escalate even further, Dude stepped off the stage. "Stop this madness! He is a new recruit and has been running with them only for half a year. Just a few menial jobs here and there, he knows nothing!" One would assume that Dude is being a coward and is trying to escape this situation, but his stance… he is not afraid. Well, at least he is not afraid to get hurt. No, he is trying to avoid the conflict, but also preparing himself for a fight. The Detective looks at Dude, his expression changes a bit. It was like he was analyzing those words. After a moment, he lifts his leg off Stepan's head. "Hmm, thought so… I still have a lot of questions but this one answers my main suspicions." "Hey, pigfuck, why did you let him go?" The kid seemed more angry than surprised. "Relax, Warrick, he got it enough. Can you pick up that gun and bring it to me?" The kid does so, runs up to the revolver, picks it up and brings it back to the Detective, who proceeds to inspect it. "Not bad, no serial number, a naked gun… We look at least 5 to 10 years here." Stepan lifts himself off the ground slowly and looks at the Detective with disdain. "Hmmmm, not going to try to defend yourself?" Detective Rando looked at Stepan, all anger gone from his eyes. The sound of static subsided, and the aura of dread dissolved. I feel more exhausted than the time I worked in the garden with Rosa. Suddenly, I hear the chuckle. Rando throws the revolver in Stepan's direction, who proceeds to catch it. "Relax, youngster, I am not gonna take you in for that. Don't wanna deal with your sausage club of idiots later. But I do have a few questions. Go, wash yourself up, I am giving you 15 minutes. Warrick?" The kid perked up. "Make sure that he does not run away. If he starts to act funny, run here immediately." "You want me to look after this fuck?" "Well, it is not like I'll trust anyone else here." The kid, despite sounding annoyed, was in high spirits. He seemed to enjoy having authority over someone. Stepan nods at the Detective and proceeds to walk away into the backroom. He is followed by Dude and the kid, "I'll go make sure he's fine. You two, look after this bastard… I am sure he won't hurt you, but just in case, scream if anything happens." The dude looked at me with an expression that was saying "Defend Fang, please". Shit, Fang! I turned to her. She looks terrified, but more than that, she looks betrayed. "These two… I never knew they were…" She was whispering to herself. I place my hand on her shoulder. Damn, she is trembling… I hear steps, the Detective is approaching us. "Miss Lucy Aaron, I presume?" Fang's gaze immediately darted in Detective's direction. Her eyes are filled with fear… I place myself between her and Rando. He looks at me for a second, and then he smiles. With the smile so fake and so broken, behind it is only void and static. The mind is so strange and scary, that one could not comprehend what is going on in there. There are lights, but nobody is home. He reaches his hand to me… no, he reaches his hand out to Fang. "It is good to finally meet you in person."