Title:           Make A Mistake With Me - Chapter 9: I Hardly Knew Ye
Author:          MistakeAnon
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/nJ4RWmSA
First Edit:      Sunday 27th of November 2016 05:58:31 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Sunday 2nd of April 2017 06:25:15 PM CDT

>The air inside the Buick is heavy and atmosphere silent as you pass over the always muddy, always dreary Elk River.
>The reason for that would be, well…
>Instead of the gang of usual suspects, those riding along you now are different.
>Adagio rode with Twilight
>Aria with Suri.
>Sonata in the splitty.
>So instead, Starlight took the shotgun and Sour and Limestone are sitting in the back.
>The girl with the soft serve head is tying her hair up in buns.
>Limestone is staring blank-eyed at the passing scenery.
>Next to you, Glimmer plays with her phone while making occasional small-talk with you.
>For example, when she hears you light up your fifth cigarette, she frowns a bit.
>”Soooo, uhh… You four had a fight last night we didn’t know about?”
>You grimace at the ashen taste.
>For some reason, you’re feeling worse with every mile closer to Independence.
“Not exactly. Aria’s… going through something, and I think those three had a bit of a talk last night. Now they’re barely speaking to each other.”
>Well, that wasn’t exactly right either.
>They clearly weren’t angry at each other.
>Nothing indicated glaring daggers or refusing to speak or other high school drama.
>Instead, the trio just looked like they didn’t know what they should say, so they were left in an awkward situation made worse by your attempts at restarting the conversation.
>So after breakfast this morning, Adagio had softly informed you they’d be riding in other cars.
>It was fine.
>Really.
>You didn’t mind.
>It’s not like you had gotten used to seeing the three sit there.
>”Yeah, that was teensie weensie talk alright.”
>Sour Sweet beams a smile at you before grimacing.
>”If by ‘talk’ you mean Adagio screeching something and then Sonata having to mediate them’.”
>Limestone throws a glare at her.
>”Hey, lay off of Chief! It wasn’t his fault. They’re just… I dunno, going through a rough spot.”
 
 
>Sour rolls her eyes.
>”Sure, sure, It’s not like it’s super obvious it’s his fault or anything, right?”
>The grey girl looks like she’s ready for a bruising, but you’re not in the mood to get tangled up in it.
>So you just take a drag from your cigarette and blow the smoke out of the open window.
>Vaguely familiar scenery whistles past you.
>In the rear-view mirror you can see Sour cock an eyebrow at you and snap her finger in frustration.
>”Ugh, come on, numbskull I’m trying to rile you up here.”
>She doesn’t exactly say it out loud, more like mutters it angrily, but you can hear it.
>”Seeing you bummed out is enough to bum me out.”
>You freeze momentarily, staring at the girl.
>Jesus.
>Were you so affected that even girl like Sour saw it?
>Last night you had been on cloud nine, but know…
>Was it just the grey sky that made you feel blue? Or was it something you didn’t realize?
>Still, you had to give credit where credit was due.
“Hey Sour?”
>She crosses her arms and gives you a stink eye.
>”What?”
“... Thanks.”
>Instantly, her cheeks flush a bit and she adopts an angry expression.
>”Wait, seriously, that’s your idea of a compliment? That’s gross, way too gross, mega gross! I mean I’m happy to hear it but can’t you say it without that creepy smile!?”
>She proceeds to huff magnificently and pout towards your back.
>You scratch your head and groan.
“If my compliments are mega gross then the way you handle compliments is giga gross! Don’t start ranting if someone delusional sees something good in you!”
>This catches her ire and she leans over your seat, drilling her index finger into your cheek.
>”Giga gross!? Then you’re just plain old tera gross! Your hair alone is tera gross!”
“Hey, don’t mock the mullet! You’re the one to talk with those peta gross colors!”
>”Loser like you couldn’t understand, my haircolor is exa cute!”
“Yeah well in that case I’m zetta cute!”
 
 
>You can’t help it.
>This nonsensical argument is making you grin like an idiot.
>Looks like you’re not the only one though, as Sour holds a grumpy face for just a moment, before bursting into a giggle fit very unlike of her.
>Limestone’s snickering too. Only Starlight rolls her eyes at the scene.
>”To me you’re both yotta idiots.”
>Sour just blows a raspberry at her, and that breaks even the magus’ stern facade.
>Feeling a bit lighter in the heart than before, you turn your attention to the road.
>At some point your car slipped into Independence proper.
>Instead of just forest and fields, there are now houses dotting the landscape on both sides of the road.
>You pass a sign with a bold Stars and Stripes painted on it on bright colors.
>When you see it, you can feel an odd weight shift in your stomach.
>Guess it finally hit you.
>You’re back in Kansas.
>Back in Independence.
>Almost two years after the worst night of your life… you’re finally back.
>You see more pickup trucks than people, large brick buildings and the good ol’ local lodge of crazy, Assembly of God.
>Reminded by the sight, you take a sharp turn right to the Tayloar Road, clicking your tongue.
>You almost drove *there*.
>No sense in opening old wounds just yet.
>It might have been a bad way to go at it, but you figured you’d just take it from the top, slow and steady.
>Starlight shoots you a questioning glance as you direct your car to the roads of suburbia.
“Don’t worry about. Let’s… let’s just take the scenic route.”
>”Oookay, if you say so.”
>She makes an odd face and checks her phone again.
>”Just, you know, I checked the GPS and this is just unneces-”
“I know Starlight. I lived here.”
>She blushes slightly and swipes her hair behind her ear.
>”Oh, right. You did.”
>Rows of houses, familiar sights, same smell in the air.
>Nothing in this place seems to have changed.
 
 
>There was the old two-story home of your friend where you first got drunk.
>Looks like they replaced the mailbox you ran over just before you left the town.
>One of the older residents, Mr. Hooffield, freezes when he sees your car round the corner.
>Guess he didn’t expect to see it, or you, anymore.
>”Wow. Sure is dead around here.”
>Sour’s comment is spot-on.
>Compared to Independence, Canterlot is a bustling metropolis if anything.
>You should know, you’ve experienced just about the best and the worst of the both.
>A small town versus not-so-small town.
>But you figure that even if Independence was bigger than this, it wouldn’t still lose that odd, dreamy atmosphere around it.
>”Hah, you should see my place.”
>Limestone grins and jabs her finger towards the window.
>”Makes this place look like downright crowded.”
“You’re not from Canterlot?”
>You’re a bit surprised.
>You figured the Pie sisters were all from there.
>”Nah, our family estate is outside the city. Long ways outside the city. We do own another apartment near the school where the four of us live, but every holiday we head back there…”
>You snicker a bit.
>Why did it suddenly sound like the Pies were old money?
“Farm?”
>”Nah, a mine. Used to be an old coal mine but nowadays we’re mostly in rare minerals. Decades ago we struck and found a huge lump of something grey and shiny. Turned out to be chromite. Now the thing’s our mascot, and we keep finding all sorts of weird stuff down there. Or at least Maud does.”
“Wait, your mascot is a rock?”
>You arch an eyebrow at the rear-view mirror.
>The face of Limestone in there snarls back at you.
>”Got a problem with Holder’s Boulder, Chief?”
>You swallow. Hard.
“... Nope.”
>All in all, while you knew Limestone could be a sweet girl, she also got angry at a drop of a dime.
 
 
>A momentary silence fills the car once more.
>You pass another home of your former high school acquaintance, though it looks like his family has moved away.
>”You know, Chief, we should visit our place.”
“Huh?”
>You glance at Limestone, who’s now staring at you with strange expression.
>More than anything else, it seems frank.
>”You know, after we get back from here. It’s on our way to Canterlot, anyway. We might drop by, have Pa and Ma fix some supper… they’d like you, you know?”
>It takes a moment for you to register what she just said.
>Then, with disbelief clear on your face, you point at yourself.
“Me?”
>”Yeah, you.”
>Limestone grins at you, and bumps your shoulder with her fist.
>”You always keep harping on that you’re a worthless guy, but I think my folks would give you a chance.”
>To your surprise, Starlight next to you giggles a bit and then nods.
>She puts her phone away, turning to look at you lot.
>”I mean, sure, I haven’t talked with my parents in forever, but I don’t see them hating you either. I don’t know how you’re back in school, but here? You’re nothing if not a perfect gentleman.”
>She leans back in her seat, using her hands to support her head.
>”I have to hand it to Trixie, she does find the interesting ones.”
>The two girls then turn to stare at Sour, who doesn’t seem to realize she’s under scrutiny.
>Two seconds pass before the soft serve head even reacts.
>When she does, she blushes heavily and growls at the two.
>”W-what!?”
>Huff is strong in her voice.
>”Don’t even think that I’m gonna complim--- ANON, WATCH OUT!”
>Before you know it, something screeches and you’re turning the wheel out of pure reflexes.
>Something flashes before your eyes and you see the low-hanging tail end of a vehicle laughing at you.
>You hear a rumble that quakes the air.
>It’s a sound that brings back enough memories to fill up a childhood.
“Motherfucke-!”
 
 
>You barely keep the Buick on the road as the 2004 Fatboy cuts you off.
>Its color is matte black, with a wolf wearing the colors of Old Glory painted on the gas tank.
>The large softail chopper is followed by another one.
>As you fight to keep your car on the road, you pick up another thing with your eyes.
>The riders of those bikes…
>... They’re both wearing denim cut-offs with El Forastero’s colors.
>They’re wearing your former colors.
“Assholes!”
>Without thinking, your hand flies on the clutch and you slam your foot on the medal.
>Your tires screech and the Buick accelerates, rocketing off the roadside.
>It nearly rams into the two bikers, who swerve out of the way just in time.
>Like an angry bear chasing after wolves, you barrel through their flimsy row and take the lead.
>Behind you, Sour is screaming in terror while Limestone laughs like a madman.
>Only Starlight seems to have remained calm.
>”Trouble?”
>Her hand immediately flies to her pocket.
“Yeah.”
>You click your tongue and strike the turn signal to the right.
“My sorta problem.”
>You add that with a growl as you start to turn to the nearby parking lot.
>You’ve been home for, what, ten minutes? Twenty?
>And already you’re neck deep in all of this.
>This was ridiculous.
>Just ridiculous.
“So try to keep the supernatural crap outta it.”
>You check that the bikers are following you as you curve to the asphalt square and throw on the handbrake.
>Then, steam nearly rising from your ears, you push open the door and step out, stomping towards the stopped choppers.
>The rider who cut you off throws her helmet aside and steps up to confront you.
“The hell you think you’re doing, asshole!?”
>You’re yelling loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
“You really wanted me to run you over, huh!?”
>”Watch where ya goin’, ya bloody wankah! Yah hahf-ahst drivin’ left us damn near roadkills!”’
 
 
>Immediately, the young woman clad in leather and denim shoves you.
>Or, at least she tries.
>She put quite a lot of power into that shove, but you were prepared and met it head on.
“Well try not to ride like a Club-wannabe! If you try to cut off a car with a bike, you’re gonna end up splattered!”
>Behind you, you can hear that the girls have gotten out of the car, and are sounding a bit worried.
>You also hear how the other vehicles of your group are gathering on the parking lot.
>You really can’t give rat’s ass right now, though.
>Your attention is in this idiotic woman before you who nearly got her and her wingman squashed.
>And the last thing you needed in this town was another car accident.
>”I’m goin’ tuh show ya wannabe! Blow yah brains from here tuh New Yawk if ya don’t shut up!”
>She’s grinding her forehead against yours, her teeth bared.
>Your expression is probably pretty similar.
>You can’t really tell at this point anymore.
“Oh, yeah, what’cha gonna do? Cry to your ZZ Top friends ‘bout how a mean ol’ cage drove you off the road?”
>Her green eyes flash in anger and her hand flies into her jeans.
>Then, you feel it.
>Something cold and metallic presses against the side of your head.
>You hear, faintly, Sour Sweet scream again.
>Well… this is oddly familiar.
>In a sense that this was one thing you didn’t miss about Indy.
>Or, at least some of the people.
>And their tendency to draw a gun on you when they couldn’t win an argument.
>”Like I said, I’m gonna cap yah ass, and I ain’t kiddin’ yah heah me! One bullet, bang, yah outta heah!”
“Like the Red Socks this year?”
>For one fraction of a second you’re 100% sure she’s gonna pull the trigger then and there when you say it.
>You’re pretty sure you’re seeing flames in those eyes of hers.
>Flames that call for her blood to vanquish you, here and now.
>”Goddam tossah!”
 
 
>But.
>Before you end up losing your life due to unfortunate word choices…
>... It’s saved by three figures tackling the girl to the ground at a lightning speed.
“... Girls?”
>Before you ensues one awkward struggle as the Dazzlings subdue your opponent in one fell swoop.
>Aria took care of the gun-arm.
>Sonata locked up her legs.
>Adagio got hold of her head and left hand.
>”W-what the-!?”
>Before the green-haired biker can even begin to comprehend what just happened, she has been disarmed.
>Her body is then wrapped into a tight bodylock.
>And top it all off, she gets to be inches away from the snarling face of Adagio who looks ready to strangle the woman any minute now.
>”Do that again and we will break your spine.”
>You feel a shiver go up your body.
>You can tell from Adagio’s voice that she’s not kidding.
>Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever heard her sound this serious.
>Both Sonata and Aria as well, they’re glaring some sword-sized daggers at the biker.
>... Wait.
>Since when were these three so perfectly in synch?
>Weren’t they refusing to talk to each other?
>You shake your head, trying to leave unnecessary thoughts behind.
>First things first.
>This joke has gone on long enough.
“Ugh, Liz? Not cool, man. I’m fine with joking around, but a gun? You know someone’s gonna misunderstand. Like, for example.”
>You gesture towards the Dazzlings.
>The biker, on the other hand, cackles.
>”Yeah, figured we went too fah. Still was wicked fun, right?”
>Like rusty clocks, the heads of the Dazzlings turn towards you.
>”Anonymous…”
>Adagio’s voice is venom.
>”What is the meaning of this?”
>You scratch your chin awkwardly.
“Uh… I guess I should introduce you.”
>You point towards the grinning biker.
>”Girls, this is my childhood friend Liz. Or as she’s formally known these days…”
>That grin of hers reveals her sharp teeth.
>”The leader of Indy Chapter of El Forastero - Chrysalis.”
 
 
>”Nonny? What’s going on?”
>Sonata’s question is tinted with confusion.
>Her eyes follow you as you help Chrysalis up and dust off her jacket.
>You spare no glance back at her, though.
>Things have been happening so quickly that you…
>... Yeah, you’re all out of gas.
>So you give a non-committed shrug. It’s the best you can at the moment.
>Thankfully, Liz is there to help you out.
>”Oh us? Anon heah’s tuh old school buddy of mine. Rode with him fuh years. Brothah from tuh Club, yah see?”
>She fixes her paddy cap and snaps the gun back into her jeans.
>The girls eye the firearm warily.
>”... The Club?”
>Twilight is the first one to voice the question that must be on everybody’s lips.
>The Dazzlings know about it. You told them on the car-ride here.
>But the others?
>Sure you might look the part, but it’s completely possible they never made the connection.
>That or they didn’t just want to think about the possibility.
>Too bad Chrysalis is there to shatter their hopes.
>”Shu-wah, what else?”
>She grins at you like a proud older sister.
>”Anon was tuh best brothah tuh evah be part of El Forastero. Called him tuh Young Lion of tuh Club. Sat on Ol’ Unknown’s, his pops’, bitch pad befoah he could walk, was wicked on tuh bike even befoah he got his license.”
>Aaaaand there it is.
>Now everyone’s looking at you.
>Every single person on this damn parking lot.
>You try to avoid their stares and focus on something else.
>Anything else.
>Like the bike that Liz was riding.
>That oh-so-familiar Fatboy chopped to to the point of being ridiculous.
>2004 model, rake kit with 8" over stock tubes.
>Painted matte black, except for the gas tank.
>There, the personal ‘logo’ of your old man stood tall and proud.
>A snarling wolf, ready to pounce at the world.
>Its war-paint was the colors of Old Glory: Red, white and blue.
 
 
>Your ass was probably forever-etched into that seat.
>After all… it was the one good thing you had left behind to Indy.
>Your old bike.
>”Wait… you three *knew* about this!?”
>Sour Sweet’s voice rises an octave and you can see she’s glaring accusingly at the Dazzlings.
>Adagio nods her head quietly.
>”Anonymous did confess to us yesterday.”
>She whips her hair back with her hand, trying to adopt a cocksure stance.
>But you know her well enough that you can see she’s forcing it.
>”He hasn’t tried to hide it, and would most likely have told you about it if you asked.”
>But what isn’t forced is the stern look she gives the group afterwards.
>Those are just as powerful as the gun Liz was brandishing earlier.
>”It’s not as if none of us have done anything bad in the past.”
>Awkward air hangs around everyone.
>Even Sour looks away, rubbing the back of her neck.
>Well, this was the company you had chosen.
>They all had their skeletons in their closet.
>With any other people, this might have fractured the little group you had gotten together.
>But these girls?
>To your surprise, you see Trixie give you an encouraging thumbs up from behind Suri.
>Hell, none of them look like they want to blame you.
>It’s just… silent surprise, is all.
>”Bad? Bad? Are you kiddin’ me? This guy’s a legend ‘round here!”
>The silence is cut by the shorter of the two bikers, the one that rode with Liz, suddenly stepping it.
>She removes her helmet, revealing a red hair and tanned skin.
>With a confident smirk, she blows some of that hair out of the way and greets everyone.
>”B-Babs!?”
>Diamond Tiara is the first one to react. Next to her, Silver Spoon looks just as shocked.
>This new girl just grins widely.
>”Oh, hey ya two. Been a’while, right? How’s Canterlot?”
>Well, looks like the world is small after all.
 
 
>”N-nevermind that, Babs, what are *you* doing here!?”
>Diamond Tiara walks up to the taller girl and gives her a quick hug.
>Silver soon follows.
>The Young Bucks have some interesting friends to say the least.
>... Though you’re not that sure about the look this Babs is giving you.
>It’s like she’s expecting you to start shining golden any time now.
>”Visitin’ some family an’ gettin’ a feel ta the place. I mean, it’s the hometown ‘a one ‘a mine heroes, ya know?”
>Diamond and Silver turn their wide-as-plates eyes towards you.
>You shrug again, but this time it’s confusion that drives you to it.
>You have as little understanding of what’s going on as they do.
>”H-hero, you say? So you know Anonymous from somewhere?”
>”Sure! Saw his gigs back in Lower East Side an’ been a fan ever since. Heck, even came ta visit this dingy ol’ place, didn’t I? Ran inta Liz here an’ she lemme borrow one ‘a ‘em bikes of the Club.”
>Hearing that, you arch an eyebrow at the tall girl standing next to you.
>Something didn’t sound right about that.
“Borrow one of the bikes? What the hell, Liz? Since when’s the Club been okay with borrowing their rides?”
>Her grin turns sheepish.
>”Well, what was I supposed tuh do ‘bout it? Since yah left, ain’t been nothing but old guys on garbage barges day in and day out. And even they kept dying yeah aftah yeah.”
>She folds her arms across her chest and bites her lip.
>”Anon… Indy Chapter disbanded eahlieh this yeah, aftah yah left. We kept hoping yah would return and make it great again, but… yah never did show yah face.”
>A horrible sense of guilt washes over you.
>You steady yourself on the handlebar of your old bike.
>Was she serious?
>Really?
>All the old guys had gone and left?
>Either retired or straight to the two-lane blacktop up above?
>They had waited for you, despite… despite everything?
>Why didn’t Bobby tell you?
>He had to know, right?
 
 
>”Hey, don’t look so glum, Anon. It was balls while it lasted, right?”
>You feel Chrysalis’ hand on your shoulder.
>She nudges you a bit, trying to get you to cheer up.
>Unfortunately, it doesn’t help much.
>”Nowadays it’s just cruisahs ‘round every corner. It ain’t a place fuh propah Brothahood to ride. So yah don’t hafta feel guilty.”
>You heave out a heavy sigh and hang your head.
>Understanding, Chrysalis puts her hand in her pocket and offers you a cigarette.
>You put it to your lips, and with years of experience, she lights it for you.
>You give her a faint smirk as a thank you.
>It wasn’t the first time she had done that for you.
>In fact, it was Liz who gave you your first smoke, God bless her soul.
>Corrupting youth from the beginning.
>”Nonny?”
>You look up and see Sonata, who has taken a careful step towards you.
>She eyes you up and down, trying to see if it’s the right time to say whatever she’s about to say.
>You nod at her.
>As far as you’re concerned, she can say whatever she wants.
>”Um, I was just, like, thinking and… Maybe you should tell others what you told us? You know, about your childhood?”
>She smiles at you, and with that simple expression, you feel some of your guilt fly away.
>”Maybe you’d feel a bit better, for realsies, and everyone would know what’s going on.”
>Not a bad idea, actually.
>While the Dazzlings understood what was going on, the others deserved to know too.
>They had come with you all the way to another state, after all.
>Besides, after you explained what had happened…
>... You could move onto why you lot were here in the first place.
>This dirty parking lot, next to a meeting hall, was as good a place as any.
>Independence’s grey clouds up above didn’t care whether you talked or not.
>So, with a slight hesitation, you finally opened your mouth.
 
 
“Where to begin…? Well, first of, let’s get the reason for it all out of the way. You see, my old man, Unknown, was the President of Independence Chapter of El Forastero. My mother, Outis, was his Old Lady.”
>You hear few gasps and some murmur from the group.
>Taking a drag from the cigarette, you sit on the seat of your old motorcycle.
>The cloud of smoke you blow up in the air disappears into the winds.
>Nearby, the radio of the splitty echoes with music.
[Embed: Battleme - Hey Hey, My My]
>Fitting, in a way.
“Of course, that meant that when I grew up, I grew up with the Club. It was a brotherhood, a family to me. Where they went, I went, and what I wanted to become when I grew up was one of them. Hell, my aim was to become the Vice-President for my dad until I’d take over from him.”
>You tap some of the ashes on the asphalt.
>The pinprick light of the cigarette seems weak and frail in the daylight.
“I practically spent my childhood riding with my old man and learned to drive a bike before I was old enough to start practicing with a car. It was my life, really. That and music, but more on that later.”
>The eyes of the girls around you hold many emotions.
>For Chrysalis, it’s pride.
>For the Dazzlings, it’s worry.
>For Gilda, it’s tenseness.
>For Twilight, it’s oddly enough respect.
>For Sour, it’s a bit of fear.
>The rest… they’re somewhere between confusion and curiosity.
“Thanks to my dad, I got my patches when I was fifteen. The moment I got my license in April, he pushes me through the Club’s tests so I could become an official member. And I did. Rode with them, legally, for good two months. Of course I had ridden more, but that was ‘illegally’ so to speak.”
>You grimace at the memories.
>They’re happy yet bittersweet.
 
 
“I don’t mean I didn’t ride with them after that, it’s just… well...”
>Aria shifts her weight from one leg to another, unable to meet your eyes.
>There’s a maelstrom of emotions in her eyes.
>”What?”
“On June of 2009, there was a bit of trouble with El Forastero. One guy, Well Enough, busted the whole group for their drug runs. Things got messy really fast and my old man… he was one of the people who got thrown in the slammer. In December of 2010 he died in in jail. Suicide, they ruled it, but from what I heard it was because of a scuffle of some sort.”
>This draws some shocked gasps from the group.
>You don’t even have the time to realize what’s happening before Sonata walks over to you and embraces you.
>The scent of mulberry envelopes you.
>Her hair tickles your nose as you try your best to not let the cigarette touch her.
>Over her hair, you can see Gilda.
>She’s frowning a bit, but her eyes show nothing but concern for you.
>Even Trixie is hugging herself.
>Starlight comforts her by putting a hand on her shoulder, before shooting you a glance.
>It seems to ask if you’re okay.
>You answer their worry by gentle pushing Sonata away so you can continue your story.
“Of course, that didn’t stop my affiliation with the Club. I met Liz here, got her involved, and for a while the two of us were on our way to becoming the next President and his Vice-President.”
>To this, Chrysalis snickers and bumps you into the side with her fist.
>”Oh come on, Anon. I weah aftah becoming yeh Old Lady, not tuh Vice-President.”
>You try to hide your embarrassment with a hacking cough, but fail miserably.
>It’s a good thing most of the girls don’t understand what she just said.
>Only Twilight eyes the two of you up with a raised eyebrow.
“In any case, I rode with them until late 2010. In 2011 I got fully absorbed by my music business and had no time for it, and then… well, then, things happened.”
>”You were sent to juvie, right?”
 
 
>Yep. Leave it to Twilight to keep track of the timeline.
>You nod at her, solemnly.
“Yeah. I spent a year in juvie, got out this April and afterwards, I headed to Canterlot City with my uncle. The rest you know. You were there after all.”
>You offer them a weak smile.
>It’s just about all you’ve got left.
>And just as you’re finished with your tale, the track on the radio changes.
[Embed: Noah Gundersen & The Forest Rangers - Day is Gone[
>It’s almost as if they had mood-fitting playlist ready to go.
>Well, it’s not as if you’re about to start complaining.
>”Wait.”
>Sour Sweet raises her hand, her eyes glued to you.
>You can see her lower lip trembling a bit.
>She’s afraid to ask the question in her mind.
>And most likely you can guess what’s she’s gonna ask.
>For it to be her… well, it fit her to a T.
>”If you ran with that one-percenter club, then did you… d-did you ever, like, do all that illegal stuff they did?”
>The group’s attention jumps from you, to her, to back at you again.
>”You know, like the drug runs you mentioned?”
>Well then.
>What can you say to her?
>That you definitely did know what your brothers were doing?
>That you didn’t condemn their activities?
>That you even helped out here and there when you could, and when you were asked to?
>No, if there’s one thing you must confess, it’s the worst thing you did.
>Scratch that, second worst thing.
>You glance at Chrysalis, who’s shaking her head silently.
>No surprise there, she wants you to keep your mouth shut about it.
>It’s not their business.
>But you’re done with all the secrets.
>These girls have been nothing if not open with you.
>It’s time you repaid that kindness.
>Time you came clean with your sins.
“You guys want the truth?”
>It’s Adagio who nods the first.
>”Tell us. Not just what you think we can handle, but everything.”
>You sigh and take a drag from your cigarette.
“When I was sixteen, I helped a Club member kill a man.”
 
 
>What did you expect?
>Another wave of shock among the group?
>Pure disgust?
>Feeling of betrayal?
>Whatever it was, it wasn’t this silence you got.
>You look up, trying to search for nauseous faces among the girls you know.
>You see none.
>You just see… so much pity.
>Pity for you.
>Pity that runs you through to the core.
>Why?
>Why are they all looking at you with such sorrowful eyes?
>Like they wanted to say something to make things better, as if you were the one who got hurt in some way?
>It’s not you who got the short end of the stick.
>You were an accomplice in a murder, plain and simple.
>You didn’t pull a trigger yourself, but you hit the guy hard enough to send him to the floor.
>It was your brother who took out the gun.
>Still, it’s… it’s your fault.
>You’re the one who caused it all.
>So why, why, why…!?
>Why are they all looking like you were about to cry, and they wanted to console you?
>And most importantly.
>Why did you feel like you were about to cry?
“Bah.”
>Angrily, you wipe your face and take yet another drag from your smoke.
>You’re letting your confused emotions get the better of you.
>You need to rein yourself in, now.
>”So… was that the reason you got sent into juvie?”
>Thank you Twilight.
>A voice of reason you can focus on again.
>You shake your head.
“No. Nobody ever found about my involvement in that. The guy who did it went to jail, but I walked free. For half a year, anyhow.”
>”So? What was the reason for juvie, Roadie?”
>Aria’s question seems to perk up the girls a bit.
>Yes, the reason.
>The incident that got all this started.
>The one that made you the man you are today.
>The one that eventually sent you Canterlot and meeting everyone.
>The one that ended up here, back in Independence, Kansas.
>The truth about that…
>... It’s time to come clean about that as well.
 
 
>”Anon, ain’t that-”
>You silence Chrysalis by raising your hand.
>You look at the group of girls gathered around you.
>The ones that believed in you enough to take a chance with this absurd roadtrip.
“Yeah. It’s that, Liz. The reason I came back now, after all this time, is because of that.”
>You lean back and stared at the clouds passing overhead.
>Their grey mass is as tangled up as your heart is right now.
>But yet, just like them, you push onwards.
“Before I talk about, there’s one thing we need to decide. You see, there are three places in Independence we’re going to need to visit. Four, if I’m technical, but the last place isn’t counted in this group.”
>You lower your gaze, and meet those of your friends.
>They’re expectant.
“The thing is, those three places are not somewhere a huge group like us can go to. I was initially going to go with just a small number of people, but since we’re all here, I don’t wanna leave any of you out. Therefore, we need to figure out how we’re gonna do this.”
>To your surprise, Twilight rolls her eyes.
>She seems exasperated, like you just said something incredibly stupid.
>”Three places? The answer should be obvious, Anosmia.”
>Apparently it was, since she reverted to name-games again.
>The scientist grins at you lot and spreads her hands.
>”We just need to separate into three groups, one for each place. After we get back together, we can just compare notes and get a clear picture.”
>She snaps her fingers to the girls.
>”Just like a field trip, right?”
>With an array of small giggles and chuckles from the group, they begin to shuffle while talking with each other.
>Before your eyes, the cavalcade of different people waxes and waves until three groups are formed.
>It takes less than a minute.
>And once they’re finished, you find yourself looking at your new support groups for each walk down the memory lane you’re about to take.
 
 
>The ones to follow you into the dragon’s den would be as follows.
>Group number one:
>Adagio Dazzle, Twilight Sparkle, Diamond Tiara, Gilda Griffon, Limestone Pie, Tree Hugger.
>Group number two:
>Aria Blaze, Trixie Lulamoon, Babs Seed, Chrysalis, Lightning Dust, Sunny Flare, Lemon Zest.
>Group number three:
>Sonata Dusk, Starlight Glimmer, Silver Spoon, Suri Polomare, Indigo Zap, Sour Sweet, Sugarcoat.
>You glance at each of the groups and gratitude fills your heart.
>With friends like this, you’ll have nothing to fear.
>Each of the groups can support you, no matter what happens.
>You give an agreeing nod to Twilight, who winks in response.
>Then you cough once, to return the mood to what it was.
>Time to continue your tale.
“Well, that takes care of that.”
>You smile at the lot of them.
>But then, your expression fades as you realize the gravity of what you’re about to talk about.
“Anyway… the reason why we came back to Kansas, and the reason why I went to juvie, they’re the same thing. It’s because of what happened that I wanted to return here to settle old grudges and to tie up some loose ends. I might be unable to make amends for what happened… but I need to put it behind me. For good.”
>You draw in a deep breath.
>It’s not easy to finally come clean about it.
>About the thing you’ve been running away from.
“I said that other than the Club, my life also revolved around music, right? It all started because of my mother, who was a singer herself. I was around ten when I got my first guitar, and I was hooked immediately.”
>You’ve got their full attention once more.
>Nobody says a word, other than you.
“I had a couple of good friends back then, who also got excited about playing. Together we started up a band. Named it Star Generation of all things. In any case, it started relatively simple, but we just kept on practicing and practicing. At some point, we had gotten relatively good.”
 
 
>Lemon Zest looks like she’s about to say something, but you silence her with your eyes.
>Now was not the time to talk about opinions and their differences.
“So, we were able to play well, and that meant we got gigs here and there. First here in Independence, then in Kansas City, then in neighboring states… before we knew it, we had a full-blown tour schedule around the country. We also self-published an album that sold like mad. Needless to say we got a little full of it.”
>You smirk at the memories.
>Those spent on the road, those spent in whatever dive bar or concert stage you were playing.
>It’s a bitter smirk.
>Just like those memories.
“Of course, young that we were, we were instantly drawn to the whole sex, drugs and rock & roll aspect of a musician’s life. We drank more than we should have and used stuff I’m not exactly proud of. Getting the stuff was easy, I was in the Club after all.”
>You scratch your chin, trying to think how to best say what happened next.
>There’s no easy way around it, however.
>So you just speak whatever comes to your mind.
“Thus, in 2011, February the 2nd, it all came to a culmination point. We were just done with a gig in Riot Room in Kansas City, and we were feeling on top of the world. We thought we had just hit it big with a record label, and that’d golden future would await us all…”
>Shadows cross your mind.
>You remember that hazy evening.
>Those bottles.
>Those cheering crowds.
>Your girlfriend’s lips upon yours.
>The laughter and the merriment.
>The drunken stupidity.
“With one fan in tow, we jumped into my car and meant to head back to Independence. Y’know, to celebrate some more.”
>Something in your chest tightens.
>You can feel the burning flames once more against your skin.
“I was in no shape to drive. Not in the least. But I did. I wanted to drive my own Buick back to my hometown as the prodigal son, returning victorious.”
 
 
>It’s silent once more.
>You stump your cigarette against the pavement, letting the fire die.
>When you told them about your past with the Club, you didn’t feel this ashamed.
>But this mistake was what set you on this path.
>The thing that made the self-centered jackass who knew no better the man he is today.
>It was for the better.
>The Dazzlings would have hated the man you were before.
>Hell, you hated the man you were before.
>But you can’t say you’re fine with the price-tag attached.
>If it was just you, then that would have been fine.
>But your stupidity cost other people as well.
“Around 2am at night on February the 3rd, just outside Four Rivers, I lost the control of my car and hit a tree, going some 80 miles per hour.”
>Now that you’ve said it, shame drips down your neck like sweat.
>An uncomfortable twisting inside your stomach turns into a storm.
“I got out of it with nary a scratch. Just banged up head and big scars on my right arm.”
>You pat your arm as if to emphasize those words.
“But I ruined the lives of five other people in the process. I alone was fine, but those five… their dreams were shattered because of me. All I got was a little over a year’s sentence in nearby juvie.”
>You grit your teeth together.
“It was our own day the music died.”
>It takes all you have to keep the tears from coming.
>You just want to curl up in a ball and hide away from the eyes of your friends.
>They showed pity before.
>But now? Now they must be disgusted.
“So it’s to those five that… that I’ve come to apologise now.’
>You finally admit it, slumping against your knees.
“Because I was a coward before and ran away.”
>You fill your vision with the sight of the asphalt.
“Now I’m here to say I’m sorry… even if it means nothing.”
>All your strength is sapped from your body.
>Thus, you have no way to defend yourself when Sonata wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a soft embrace.
 
>You park your Buick right next to the Historical Research Center.
>The motor hums forlornly as you turn the key and take a deep breath.
>To your surprise, you feel the hand of Indigo Zap pat you encouragingly on the shoulder.
>She flashes a grin at you, as does Sonata who’s sitting on the passenger seat.
>”It’s gonna go fine, Anon.”
>The jock gives you a thumbs up.
>”I mean, you got all of us to back you up, right?”
>”Yeah! Nonny, you got nothing to worry about, for realzies!”
>You give the two girls a ghost of a smile, because that’s pretty much all you can muster up right now.
>Heaving a heavy sigh, you nod to no one in particular.
“Right. Let’s go. The place is just around the corner.”
>You, Indigo, Sonata and Starlight climb out of your vehicle.
>Suri, Silver Spoon, Sugarcoat and Sour exit the fashionista’s overblown vehicle as well.
>The group gathers around you, and you nod towards the display window right next door.
>There’s an old poster of a guitar studio still in the window, but most striking is the neon sign just above the door.
>’Grimey’s’, it reads.
>This catches Suri’s interest.
>”Anonymous, do tell: is this place, by any chance…?”
“Yeah, Ol’ Grimey used to own this place back when I was a kid. We would come here to mess around and practice whenever we could.”
>You grimace at the sight.
>So many childhood memories linger around here.
>Some good, some bad, and some just painful.
>Especially when viewed through the lens of today.
>But, you can’t let that stop you.
>Not when you’ve come this far.
>Not when all these people are here for you.
>So you flick your fingers towards the small door.
“Follow me… and prepare for yelling. I don’t think he’s going to be happy to see me.”
>Leaving behind those words, confusing for the girls with you, you head to the entrance of the record store.
 
>With no hesitation, you swing the door open and hear a chime ring at the back of the shop.
>Other than that, a quiet plucking of guitar fills your ears.
[Embed: LeAnn Rimes - Probably Wouldn't Be This Way]
>Ah, LeAnn Rimes.
>He still has that odd country boy streak.
>Well, not that you’re the one to talk.
>Honestly, you should really take down that Confederate flag from your car’s rear window.
>Rows upon rows, shelves upon shelves, racks upon racks.
>CDs, vinyls, cassette tapes as far as the eye can see.
>The winding room that opens up before you is a cluttered mess of a Musical Mecca.
>A large central space that splits into deep alcoves that are reserved for more specific things, such as DVDs or instruments.
>Dirty carpets cover the floor, with patches of various bands and their logos sewn onto them.
>And what available wall space there is amidst all the records has been reserved for album covers and a big American flag.
>Soft scent of pipe tobacco hangs low, making your nose itchy
“Huh.”
>Really, nothing has changed since you last visited this place.
“Looks like he’s keeping this shop afloat. How ‘bout that?”
>Sonata looks at you quizzically.
>”Who is?”
>You’re about to answer, when an odd sound reaches your ears over the music.
>You almost miss it.
>A squeaking sound of wheels.
>For a moment, panic fills your mind.
>Your thoughts are thrust back into that darkness that once trapped both you and Sonata.
>You’re ready to fight or flee.
>... But just as quickly, you calm yourself.
>It’s close, but it’s not the same sound.
>Instead of rusted, it sounds clean and oiled.
>A mechanical sound, sure, but nowhere as ominous as the one you heard in that blackness.
>Still, it doesn’t mean it’s easier sound to face.
>Especially when you raise your gaze, and look at the source of it.
>A wheelchair whereupon a young man sits.
 
>”Hi there! Welcome to Ol’ Grimey’s Record Store! How can I help y-”
>Those cheerful words die quickly upon the lips of their speaker.
>You grind your teeth together, though you try not to let it show.
“... Hi, Crystal.”
>You stare at the mild yellow-hued young man with long, curly, brown hair and piercing eyes.
>He’s dressed in a black T-shirt and a some sort of Native American necklace hangs from his neck.
>His expression though?
>It started as utter shock, but quickly devolves into barely bridled rage.
>”*You*.”
>There couldn’t be more contempt in his voice even if he tried.
>You avert your gaze first, and look at the group of teenagers who are staring at the scene with worry and confusion clear in their eyes.
>”Crystal, these are my friends from the school. Girls, this is Crystal Ship: our band’s bass player.”
>Nobody even tries to say hi.
>Instead, Crystal just snarls at you.
>”*Former* bass player.”
>He corrects you with pure vitriol.
>”I wouldn’t play with you anymore even if you threatened to break my legs.”
>Then, with bitterness heavy in his voice, he adds:
>”Oh, I forgot. You already did.”
>What can someone say to such accusation?
>Especially when it’s true, every word?
>You ruined the young man’s life, and you can’t even begin to imagine how hard the life after that fateful night has been for him.
>Honestly, you’re scared to imagine it.
>And that’s why you’re frantically searching for something to say now that you’re face-to-face with him once more, after almost two years.
>Something, anything.
>Just a word or two that could make things less hostile.
“Yeah… sorry. Should’ve mentioned that.”
>Instead, you end up going in circles.
“I guess it’s meaningless to ask, but… how’ve you been?”
>Crystal Ship snorts and shoots a derisive glare at you.
>You feel your heart shrivel up under it.
 
>”How do you think? I’m stuck in this damn metal contraption thanks to you, barely able to live like a normal goddamn person. How do you *think* I’ve been!?”
>The last sentence is naught but a hiss.
>You wince at the hate you hear in his words.
>The emotional outburst does not go unnoticed by your friends.
>Silver Spoon is looking especially afraid what’s going to happen.
>You, though?
>You’re just feeling woozy.
>Thus, you lean onto the nearby table for some support.
“Crystal, I didn’t… you know I never meant things to go this way. What happened wasn’t-”
>”Who CARES what you meant to happen! You never stopped to think! Not even for ONE MINUTE! Everything was just about how’d YOU get famous and how much money YOU’D eventually make!”
>He wheels closer to you, close enough to poke your chest with his finger.
>He jabs it with a force of a knife.
>”You dragged us all with you, and then destroyed our lives while YOU got off with nothing but a year in juvie! How… how DARE YOU come back here, after what you did!? There’s not a single person in this town that doesn’t hate your rotten guts, and yet you waltz in here like NOTHING HAPPENED!”
>He grabs you by your jacket and pulls you close.
>You’re now staring in his fury-filled eyes, and feel yourself growing cold.
>It’s like every painful memory comes crashing down at once.
>That horrible, crushing sense of shame you’ve carried until now.
>It threatens to engulf you, to smash you and leave nothing behind.
>”If I could go back in time, I’d kill you without any hesitation.”
>His voice is nothing but a growl now.
>”That way, at least those who didn’t deserve it wouldn’t suffer. And you’d get what you deserve, you piece of shit.”
>Crystal’s fingernails dig into your leather jacket.
 
>”Hell, I’d kill you and drive your family of thugs out of this town. Everything the lot of you do just brings misery to innocent people. So what the HELL are you here for?”
>You hang your head.
>You’re not crying, not really.
>But for some reason, it’s really hard to breathe, like a piece of concrete was stuck in your throat.
>Something squishes your chest with enough force to stop your heart.
>Cold sweat, like bony fingers, creep up your neck.
>You’re just about ready to bolt out of the door and run until you’re out of Independence.
>Yet, you force those rehearsed words out of your mouth.
>Words you know won’t fix anything.
“I… I came to apologize, Crystal. It’s the only thing I can do.”
>Suddenly.
>Pain.
>You were expecting it, really.
>He doesn’t get much force behind his punch, thanks to being in a wheelchair.
>But still, you stumble backwards.
>You hear the girls behind you gasp. Well, almost all of them gasp in shock.
>Sonata lets out a guttural sound, like a roar ready to pour out.
>Sour Sweet is quick to hold her back, of which you are glad.
>The last thing you want is for Sonata to have that sort of expression on her face.
>After all, anger doesn’t suit her.
>Especially anger that looks like that of a wolf whose pack-member was attacked.
“Guh!”
>You almost crash into the album rack behind you, but manage to hold yourself steady.
>Wiping the corner of your mouth, you turn to look at Crystal Ship.
>His heaving heavy breaths, and the only thing that’s stopping his assault is the fact that his legs are broken.
>With wobbly legs, you stand up proper and look at him, downcast.
>He has every right to be furious, he does.
>Still, ironically, his words hurt a hell of a lot more than his fist.
“I mean it. I’ve destroyed enough lives in this town. The only thing I can do anymore is to apologize. I’ve got nothing else left.”
>You speak from the heart, and still you sound pathetic.
 
>”Why don’t you take your apologies and choke on them? It’s too LITTLE too LATE! You broke our lives, and now you’re arrogant enough to think you can just fix things with an apology? Fuck you, Anonymous! FUCK YOU!”
>He takes a random album from the shelf and throws it at you.
>”Haze! Blues! Even your own goddamn girlfriend! We all paid the price of your idiocy! There’s NO ONE in this town that’d ever accept your apology! I bet even your dead parents would spit in your face if you apologized to their graves!”
>Tim McGraw’s: “Live Like You Were Dying” bounces off your chest with a thud.
>”The fact that you’ve got new /friends/ is just laughable! Do you KNOW what this guy did!? And what’ll he do to you!? He’ll just suck you dry and leave to the vultures while he moves to his next victim!”
>This tirade finally breaks Sonata out of her animalistic state, and she bares her teeth at Crystal.
>”Shut up. Nonny would never do that to us.”
>Crystal Ship just laughs like a maniac.
>”Oh believe me, he’ll do it again! That’s just his style! Let others suffer as long as he doesn’t have to!”
>”Nonny’s suffered too!”
>”AND HE DESERVES TO!”
>You didn’t even feel the impact of the CD case.
>Right now, it’s the least of your problems.
>The biggest problem in here is… you.
>You.
>A teenager who thought he could take on the world.
>And yet who world picked up and broke over its knee.
>But instead of dealing with his pain alone, he just took and shoved it on those he considered his friends.
>Someone who made all the mistakes, but who suffered no consequences.
>Every bit of pain, every bit of misery, was left on the people who trusted him.
>Crystal Ship was right.
>You were arrogant, arrogant beyond belief.
>Just what did you think you could achieve by coming back here?
>The way you had imagined it, you’d just say your piece and be on your way.
 
>Nice and clean. Your friendship might not recover, but at least you’d say what should’ve been said so long ago.
>You want to laugh at your delusions.
>In what sort of world do things work out so perfectly?
>What stares you in the face now is cold, harsh truth.
>Truth in the shape of your former friend with bloodshot eyes, howling and spitting insults in your direction.
“... I don’t know what else to do.”
>Your words are a whisper that Crystal never hears.
>He’s cursing you with every word in the book, face red and tears of fury in his eyes.
>All that pent-up rage from what happened pours out like a acidic waterfall.
>And all you can do there is listen to it.
>You have no strength left to interrupt him.
>... Which is why you’re surprised when you hear a voice inside your head.
>A voice that you recognize.
>[Anonymous. Don’t be shocked. It’s me.]
>Starlight Glimmer’s words enter your mind, and you hesitantly glance at the girl.
>She’s pressing her index finger against your back, and there’s a concentrated expression on her face.
>You would be surprised, but right, you just can’t muster up the energy.
>With every second, you hear yet another insult hurled your way by your wheelchair-bound former friend.
>Therefore, you’re just left staring at her, unable to fathom why she would contact you this way.
>But what catches you even more off-guard is what she says next.
>Words tinged with worry… and also disgust.
>[Anonymous…]
>The look in her eyes harden.
>[Why are you letting him say all this?]
>You open your mouth in surprise.
>What?
>You’re almost ready to demand an explanation, when her fingers bores into your back a little painfully.
>It’s to accentuate the clear anger that’s now showing on her face.
>[Man up, Anonymous. These insults aren’t why you’re here, right?]
>Her words leave no choice to argue.
>[Or so help me God I will slap the taste out of your mouth myself.]
 
>Starlight’s words resonate in your ears, strongly.
>This wasn’t what you were here for?
>Yeah… she has a point.
>As you look at the scene unfolding before you, you feel your heart sink to the very bottom.
>Crystal Ship’s screaming in frustration, his argument with Sonata growing to a fever pitch.
>And the siren girl isn’t backing down either.
>She’s gesturing wildly with her hands, trying to defend you.
>You know she means well, but… this is one argument she cannot win.
>Whatever Crystal says is nothing but the truth.
>You were a horrible man.
>It was you who ended up ruining the lives of your friend, all because you had to get drunk.
>If you had shown some inhibition, if you had only not forced everyone to get back on the road that very same night…
>... Things would be so different.
>You wouldn’t have gone to juvie.
>Your former friends wouldn’t be in this mess right now.
>You wouldn’t have run away to Canterlot.
>... You wouldn’t have met the Dazzlings.
>Or any of the other girls.
“... Huh.”
>That’s a sobering thought.
>As horrible, as nightmarish that car crash was… it led you here.
>To bonding with three creatures from another world for whom you’d take a bullet in a heartbeat.
>Without all that suffering… you wouldn’t have found this peace.
>[Listen to me, Anonymous.]
>Starlight’s echoing voice is strong like iron.
>[This is not you. This is not how *you* would handle this situation.]
>Oh really?
>Since when was Starlight such an expert on who you were?
>What gave her the right to question your actions?
>[I know you have a lot of baggage, a lot of past you’d like to forget. We have known only for short while, but that doesn’t change what you are.]
>What you are?
>[Do you even know how all your friends see you? You’re like a sturdy battleship in a storm, something we all can rely on. No matter what goes wrong, we know we can count on you.]
 
>What?
>Since when did you inspire such confidence in *anyone*?
>Why would anyone trust you that much?
>What the hell had you done to even deserve such trust?
>[I mean, did you know what Trixie calls you? How she referred to you when she send me a message?`Apparently that’s a title spreading around the CHS like a wildfire.]
>... A title?
>Just what sort of delusions of grandeur were people saddling you with?
>[She called you the Last Outlaw of Canterlot. The one true free spirit still left in that place, the only one with balls to say whatever you’re thinking of no matter what.]
>You almost snort because of how ridiculous that sounds.
>The Last Outlaw? You?
>You were no superhero. Hell, you weren’t even a good guy.
>You were just a random redneck kid too stupid to keep his mouth shut when he should.
>Someone with more anger management problems than was healthy, along with a smoking addiction.
>The students of CHS despised you.
>[No they don’t. Not all of them.]
>How can she even claim that with such a straight face?
>[You’re not as hated as you think. Just look around you! You got all of us accompanying you, just because we thought you deserved our help! And according to Trixie, there’s a whole lot of other students back at CHS who agree with our world view!]
>You can’t look Starlight in the eyes anymore.
>Her words pierce right through you like a well-oiled knife.
>Honestly?
>You’re afraid.
>You’re afraid of the hope, of the sincere trust she feels towards you.
>It’s like a brilliant night sky shining with the force of a million little lights, and a great big Milky Way glowing brightly.
>[You’re not the type of guy to back down here. I get it, your former friend is angry. You made a mistake. That’s a given. But that doesn’t mean you can just let him use you as a verbal punching bag.]
 
>You feel her hand grasp you by the shoulder, giving it a good squeeze.
>[If you’re here to make amends, do it. If you’re here to apologize, don’t back down. If you’re here to close this chapter of your life, don’t leave things unsaid. Make him listen. Force him if you have to. You won’t be able to fix what happened… but at the least you can have some closure to everything.]
>You raise your hesitant gaze.
>Towards Crystal Ship.
>Towards what you fear.
>You hate to admit it, but...
>... Starlight’s right.
>This isn’t what you came here to do. Independence has, so far, been a boogeyman of your past; haunting you, never letting go.
>You need to put this nightmare to rest if you wanted to get on with your life.
>And especially if you wanted to help the Dazzlings.
>[Come on, Anonymous! Show me I wasn’t wrong to get in that car and follow you all the way here!]
>You clench your hand into a fist, and exhale deeply.
>Here goes nothing.
>Even if you have to yell louder than him, you’re going to make Crystal listen.
>After all that happened, this is what-
>”You delusional skank! The only person that monster will ever care about is himself!”
>Your body moves before your mind can catch on to what’s happening.
>You only need to see Crystal raise his fist again.
>But this time, not against you.
>No, against Sonata.
>There’s a deep rumbling sound echoing from somewhere, almost like the engine of your car.
>Is that you?
>Is that horrible growling sound you?
>Two quick steps cross the distance between you and your former friend.
>You catch his fist with your hand and force it back, pushing him away from Sonata.
>The girl lets out a surprised yelp.
>In Crystal’s eyes, you see fear. They reflect a snarling face you barely recognize as your own.
>God.
>You look like some sort of rabid animal.
 
“Lay a hand on her and you’re gonna wish you had died in that car crash.”
>Your voice sounds nothing like your own.
>You’re crushing Crystal’s hand with your own, a vice-like grip that refuses to let go.
>That rage you’re so familiar with… it struggles to come back. But unlike before, it doesn’t fill your eyes with red haze.
>No, this is different.
>You’re in control.
>Instead of assaulting a random person, you’re directing that fury towards someone who nearly hurt Sonata.
>You’ll never let anyone hurt her.
>Or Aria. Or Adagio.
>You’d rather die than have them suffer because of you.
>Crystal Ship opens his mouth to protest, or to curse you, but your voice overpowers his.
”Shut up, Crystal. Shut up and listen if it’s the last thing you’ll do. I’m gonna say this only once, so you better take it to the heart.”
>He freezes, his face growing paler by the minute.
>The boiling anger still resides within you, demanding to be let out.
>You want to hurt him.
>But instead.... you expel all of that fury with single sigh.
>Your grip on his fist eases.
“I’m sorry. I really am. I know that mere words can’t make up for how badly I screwed up, or how much I messed up your lives… but for what it’s worth, I *am* sorry.”
>He didn’t expect this.
>Looks like nobody in the shop did, as you can feel some relieved sounds from the girls.
“I didn’t ask to be the only one who suffered nothing but mere scratches. If I had a choice, I would have given my life just to make sure you guys were alright. Perhaps not back then… but after all that’s happened to me, now? Now I wouldn’t even hesitate.”
>There’s a growing confusion on Crystal’s face as your words sink in.
>You’re speaking as calmly as you can, as you’re finally getting through to him.
 
“I’m not the same guy I was back then. You might find it hard to believe, but after everything I… I had to change. I was a complete asshole back then, and I realized that in juvie. When I got out, I was all set on just fading into obscurity, perhaps ending my miserable life on some murky autumn evening when the whiskey finally overpowered me… yet here I am. And do you know why that is?”
>You point at Sonata.
>She looks dumbfounded, but you can see a somewhat glad smile creeping to her lips.
“Her. Them. All of the people I’ve met so far in Canterlot. They showed me just where I went wrong. And by getting to know them, I realized something important.”
>You pat Crystal on the shoulder.
>At first, he jerks at the gesture, but eventually, accepts it.
>Looks like he’s calmed down as well.
>You can’t read his expression, but he’s no longer spitting venom at you.
>”... What’s that?”
“Even if I can’t fix what happened, even if I can’t go back in time to reverse my mistakes… I can make damn sure it’ll never happen again. I might not be able to do right by you guys anymore… but I can do right by them. This miserable existence that you guys call Anonymous might be able to still do something good in this life.”
>It’s perhaps not the type of confession Sonata, or the other girls, wanted to hear, but it’s the truth.
>After all, you willingly put on the mantle of a villain just for them.
>Lately, it’s began to dawn on you just how much you owe those three sirens.
>And even if it’s the last thing you’ll do, you’ll make sure their lives will take a turn for the better.
“But if I’m gonna give it my all, if I’m gonna help the people most important to me right now, I need to leave what happened behind. I can’t have it weigh down on my shoulders because if it does, I might falter just on the worst possible moment.”
 
>You look down at the floor.
>Funnily enough, you see a faded picture of Johnny Cash staring back at you from the carpet.
>Perhaps approvingly, perhaps disapprovingly.
“I need to close the book on who Anonymous was if I’m gonna be this new Anonymous. The boy who only knew how to ruin lives needs to be left in this town, if only for the sake of the man who wants to do good.”
>You stand up, straightening your back.
>You feel oddly calm, tranquil. Serene even.
>All that fear, self-loathing, shame and anger just washes out of you like a refreshing spring drizzle.
“So that’s why I’m here. To say I’m sorry. And end this chapter of my life. I know it might not be fair to you… but I have to choose.”
>Your eyes lock onto Crystal’s.
“And I choose to be a new, better man. I’m moving on, and so should you. So for that, and for what I did… I’m sorry, Crystal.”
>A heavy silence falls to the record store.
>For a moment, nothing seems to move.
>Even the small town outside the building is hushed.
>The stares of your friends feel like hot pinpricks on your neck.
>You don’t know what sort of faces they are making.
>You never liked to put your emotions, your feelings into words, so perhaps they are surprised.
>Perhaps they’re even disgusted.
>After all, you were ready to trample over your old relationships because of your new ones.
>But you refuse to back down on that.
>There are three things in this world that, right now, are more important to you than anything else.
>Adagio. Aria. Sonata.
>You’d do anything for them.
>Now that you’ve put it into words, you realize that’s the ultimate truth for you.
>They stood by you when you were at your lowest point.
>So you’ll do the same for them.
>No.
>You’ll do even more than that.
>After all, that’s why you cooked up the plan to take advantage of Celestia’s little villain show.
 
>”You know...”
>Crystal’s sharp voice draws you out from your reverie.
>You look at him, his face still an unreadable mask.
>For a moment, every person in the store seems to hang on his words to come.
>”... You should go tell your girlfriend that. I bet Sue would be really proud of you.”
>It was as if a collective sigh of relief rippled across the room.
>You glance at the girls, and they’re all wearing relieved smiles.
>Starlight even gives you a discreet thumbs up and a wink.
>You turn back to Crystal, and take a good look at him.
>He’s not smiling like the others.
>Yet his anger is also gone.
>The type of warmth he used to look you with will never come back.
>You’ll never be friends again.
>But from the looks of it, you won’t be enemies either.
>Even if some bridges are burnt for good, you can still yell at each other from the opposite shores.
>Well, maybe not yell.
>You think you’ve had quite enough of yelling for the time being.
“I’ll be sure to let her know.”
>You say wearily.
>You didn’t even realize how tense you were up to this point.
>”Don’t think this changes things, though. I haven’t forgiven you. And I probably never will.”
>Crystal’s words gain their steely edge once more.
>”But that doesn’t mean I need to ignore a truth standing right in front of me. You’ve changed, Anon. What you said just now… the old you would have never confessed something like that. And I think that change is for the better.”
>Slowly, perhaps apprehensively, perhaps unsurely, he offers his hand.
>You move your own, just as hesitant.
>As if you’re about to break something fragile.
>”You said I should move on. That we both should. That’s a good point, to be honest. If we keep wallowing in the past, we’ll just burn out like two cigarettes in the night. So while I’ll never like you… I think I can grudgingly respect what you’re trying to do.”
 
>And so, the two of you shake hands.
>Briefly, sure, but it does happen.
>Yet you feel an odd sense of satisfaction.
>”And I think the others will come around to saying the same thing, if you’re just equally honest with them. Of course, getting answers might be… hard, but go talk to them anyway. They deserve to hear what you just told me.”
“Don’t worry, I will. That’s why I came here, after all.”
>”Good.”
>He sighs and picks up the album from the floor, the one he threw earlier.
>Giving a lopsided smirk at the cover, he puts it back on the shelf.
>”Well, what are you standing there, then? Go on, git! I have better things to do than entertain your overgrown ass or your fanclub.”
>You chuckle dryly, shaking your head.
“Fine, we’ll leave you to your utterly important reshelving of Redneck Classics.”
>You turn around, putting your hands to your hips, and look at the girls.
“Alright, let’s go. We need to meet up with the others.”
>In unison, they all nod.
>Together, you head out of the record store, the chime ringing cheerfully as the door opens.
>On your way, you feel Sonata stick to your side.
>To your confusion and embarrassment, she takes your hand to hers and interlocks her fingers with yours.
“W-what are you-”
>”I’m really proud of you Nonny. For realsies.”
>You try to avoid showing just how hard you blush by averting your gaze and scratching your cheek.
“... Idjit.”
>This girl was too good at catching you off guard.
>As you exit the store, trying to shake off the siren clinging to you, you hear a cough behind you.
>You look at Crystal Ship over your shoulder.
>He’s wearing an expression of dry amusement, looking at your situation.
>”By the way… I’m playing at The Brick later tonight. Just thought you might wanna know.”
>You stare at him in silence.
>But then, you nod.
>With a smile.
“I’ll be sure to swing by.”
>And with that, you leave the old record store.
 
>East Chestnut Street is looking the same as ever.
>Lots of big houses lining the streets, with large yards and fences separating them from each other.
>You stare at one house in particular. A white one with grey roof, low brick wall covering the front while a hedge fence in the back hides the garden from prying eyes.
>You finish up your cigarette, tenth for the day, as you think back to the times you’ve spent here.
>Their garage was where your band used to practice, before you moved to the back room of Grimey’s.
>You still remember that old pickup truck that just oozed the smell of gasoline.
>The fumbling fingers on guitar strings, the off-beat banging of the drums, the cracking voice of your girlfriend on the mic…
>Those days feel so far away.
>Like they were memories from another lifetime, or of those of another person.
>Yet they still remain in your head.
>Next to you, Chrysalis is biting her lip. She seems somewhat nervous about what’s to come.
>You can’t blame her. The both of you know what awaits inside.
>As you take a drag from your smoke, you steal a glance at Aria.
>She’s keeping her distance from you, just like before.
>Arms folded, she’s quietly talking with Sunny Flare about something.
>For a moment, your eyes meet, but she turns away immediately.
>Honestly…
>You would need to get to the bottom of what’s going on the minute you were back in Canterlot.
>As much as it warmed your heart the way Trixie tried to keep your spirits up in the car, you were still more used to the Dazzlings riding there with you.
”Hmh?”
>You’re cut from your thoughts as you feel your pocket vibrate.
>Little confused, you fish out your phone and swipe the screen open.
>A text message. Is it someone from the other groups?
>You arch an eyebrow as you press to read the text.
“... The hell is this?”
>Your muttered curse is justified.
>After all, what you’re looking at right now seems to be nothing but pure gibberish.
 
>First of all, you’re not even sure what’s up with the sender’s number.
>Instead of the typical string of numbers, it looks like someone just went nuts with one and zero keys.
>01010100 01001001 01010100 01001111 01010010, it reads.
>You squint your eyes at this impossibility.
>Is your phone going haywire?
>This can’t possibly be right, can it?
>And that’s not even mentioning the message itself.
>A garbled string of letters stares at you like some sort of ritualistic chant.
>zkdw lv wkh eodfn nqljkw.
>zkdw lv wkh eodfn nqljkw.
>zkdw lv wkh eodfn nqljkw.
>Over and over again, for seven lines in total.
>This is followed by another line, differing from the rest.
>phvvdjh2.ps4
>Okay, seriously, what the hell.
>Just looking at this could give you a migr-
“Gkk--!”
>No, scratch that. It’s actually giving you a migraine.
>For a moment, you feel woozy.
>As if the world around you is spinning rapidly.
>Like you’re flying at an incredible velocity yet staying right where you are, staring at this exact same spot.
>It’s not until Lemon Zest puts her hand on your shoulder that you shake off the odd stinging pain in your brain.
>”Uh, dude? You okay?”
>You grimace as you feel cold sweat at the back of your neck.
“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just got lost in my thoughts, that’s all.”
>You glance at your phone one last time before putting it away.
>There was no way to make heads or tails out of that one right now.
>You weren’t exactly adept when it came to your phone going completely crazy, and the group you were in, well…
>... Honestly, Lightning Dust most likely knew most about electronics in this bunch, and even she was only fluent in synthesizers.
>Maybe you’d have Twilight take a crack at it later.
>The last thing you needed right now was your phone in a fritz.
>You had no money to buy another one, no sirree.
 
>”Yo, Anonymous? We thinkin’ ‘a actually goin’ inside?”
>Babs gives you a quizzical look with her hands on her hips, and you nod.
“Right. Sorry about that. I’ll lead the way, you guys just hang back for a while.”
>You take a look at the imposing front door of the building.
>It really wasn’t a place where you thought you’d find yourself again.
“Let’s go.”
>You cross the street and the paved path, briskly walking up the wooden stairs.
>Just by looking at it, it almost seems like any ordinary house.
>Still, you can’t help but to feel a little dread as you hover your finger over the doorbell.
>You take few seconds to gather your courage, and see both Sparkles and Blueberry exchange worried looks.
>Ugh, you’re being pathetic again.
>You did fine with Crystal Ship. You’re not about to chicken out again.
>Therefore, you ram your finger to the button, and hear a chime echo inside the house.
>The minute or so you wait feels like an hour.
>Sounds of footsteps thump against a wooden floor on the other side.
>Eventually, you hear someone fumble with the handle.
>And the door swings gently open, revealing a somewhat tired-looking older woman.
>”Well hello there, how can I-”
>Her eyes scan the group of girls waiting behind you.
>But the moment they stop at you, those same eyes widen.
>First with disbelief.
>Then with bitter anger.
>”You!”
>Well, this feels familiar.
>And it’s not as if you weren’t expecting this.
“Hello, Mrs. Thril-”
>”Get out, get out, get out!”
>Immediately she begins screeching, her lazily painted nails slashing the air as she tries to scratch your face.
>You take a hasty step back, and hear the girls gasp in surprise.
>In an attempt to defend yourself, you catch the woman’s wrist, making sure she doesn’t hit you anywhere important.
>She spits in your face.
 
>”You’re not welcome in this house, you monster! Not after what you did to my baby girl! Get out!”
“Mrs. Thrills, please, just try to calm do-”
>”Get out! I’ll call the police! You and your whole criminal family should be in jail!”
>You bite back a sarcastic reply about how you’re the only one of your immediate family currently even alive.
>”I said get out you hooligan! I should’ve never let you near my baby girl! It’s because of you she’s, she’s…!”
>Before she can finish that sentence, a large pair of arms wraps around the woman from behind and pulls her inside the house.
>Behind her stands a man almost as large as you, with a long hair of faded green.
>Typically for an old hippie, his features are sagging, yet he’s built like a tank.
>Of Kozmic Blues’ parents, he was always the one you got along better with.
>Yes, these two were the parents of your former drummer.
>Cheap Thrills, her mother. And Turtle Blues, her father.
>”Come on honey, you need to relax. I’ll take you upstairs, okay?”
>”No! No! He’s come to hurt our girl again!”
>”Just let me handle this honey. Now, come on, upstairs.”
>Turtle Blues shoots you a look that tells you to stay put, and half-drags his wife up the stairs.
>You’re left in an uncomfortable silence, staring at the half-open door.
>”Coulda told yah this wasn’t a good idea, Anon…”
>Chrysalis comments from the side, but you ignore her.
>Or, at least try to ignore her.
>Facing your former friends was bad enough.
>Their parents were a different thing altogether.
>”Hey, hang in there, Boss.”
>Lightning Dust pats you on the shoulder, though you can see even she’s putting on a brave face.
>”You can do this.”
“Yeah… thanks. If you guys want to wait by the car, that’s fine. No need to drag you into this mess.”
>She just flashes a quick grin at you.
 
>”No can do, Boss. We knew what we signed up for, we aren’t gonna chicken out now.”
>Around her, the other girls nod. Even Aria.
>Though she still refuses to look directly at you.
>Before you can answer, you hear a heavy set of footfalls on the stairs.
>Turtle Blues returns with a stern look.
>You can see some scratches on his forearms.
>Suddenly, you’re face to face with this man and his unflinching stare.
>It’s like you’ve regressed back to being thirteen again.
>”... Anonymous.”
“Sir.”
>He takes a good long look at you, eyeing you up like you were some sort of dangerous criminal.
>Which to most of this town’s people, you were.
>”Care to explain why you’re at my doorstep, and why I shouldn’t just drive you off my property this instant?”
>You had forgotten that underneath all this hippie-nonsense, this man was way too scary when he wanted to be.
>Taking a deep breath, you give him your best answer.
“Because after this visit, I’ll never return to your lives again. I came back to Independence for one last time to apologize for my mistakes… and to let people have some closure. Myself included.”
>For a moment, you find yourself locked in a staring contest with Mr. Blues.
>Though you refuse to back down, it ain’t easy.
>You could never tell what lurked behind those eyes of his.
>He never let any emotion show on his face.
>But right now… you can see him judging you.
>”I’ve been waiting, you know.”
>He suddenly speaks, his deep voice rumbling.
>”Since you never returned, I thought you just skipped town like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.”
>He relaxes his folded arms.
>”But seeing you standing there right now… and saying you’re here to apologize… well, it’s been years, but I guess it’s better than never. Guess you had enough backbone for that, huh?”
“... Yes, sir. Words can’t make up for what I’ve done, but they’re the only thing I have to offer.”
 
>”Then give those words to someone who deserves them.”
>He points further into the house with his thumb.
>”Our daughter is in the garden. You know the way, right?”
>You hesitate momentarily.
>It’s almost as he’s implying that he’s not coming with you.
>As if sensing your thoughts, he gives an acknowledging grunt towards the girls.
>”Your friends can come with you. I have little something I need to find, so go ahead. We can talk more before you leave.”
>Then, without any hesitation, he steps out of the doorway to let you pass.
>In fact, he walks over to the door that you remember leading to their old storage room.
>One more hesitant glance from him to the girls, and then you steel yourself.
>”Alright. I’ll be sure to let you know before we leave, sir.”
>And with your friends following behind you, you enter the Blues residence for the first time in years.
>Inside the faint scent of incense hangs in the air.
>Cheap, imitation Persian carpets line the floors.
>On the wall next to the big grandfather clock, you can see a collection of pictures.
>Of happy family and happier times.
>You grimace as you see a one with your old band in it. You all must be somewhere around fifteen.
>... And of course, you’ve been smudged out with a black sharpie.
>How nice.
>But still, it brings back even more of those resonating memories from deep within your heart.
>Of your childhood, and of the people who you took for granted.
>But whom you still considered your friends.
>Leaving the collection of pictures alone, you move through the cramped hallway into the kitchen.
>A small smile rises to your face as you see the place.
>Nothing in here has changed, not one bit.
>The white radio still plays the tunes you remember.
[Embed: Sarah McLachlan - Full of Grace]
>The shelves and the fridge still look like they belong in the 70’s.
 
>And then there’s the kitchen top, where you lot used to congregate after each band practice.
>Smelling like sweat and gulping down Sunny D or whatever was ice cold at the moment.
>To your surprise, Kozmic’s mother hasn’t gone and replaced the stool you used to always sit on.
>Your asscheeks have carved their shape into that thing and its black faux leather.
>As the midday sun shines through the kitchen window, you can almost see the five of you sitting around the kitchen top, laughing and joking.
>Crystal is joking around, waving a chocolate bar like it was a cigarette.
>He always wanted to be a big record label exec when he grew up.
>He’d then get nagged on by Kozmic for playing with his food.
>Food… yeah right.
>You practically lived on fast food and sweets, the lot of you.
>Shy Purple Haze would always sit at the corner, with his back to the shining sun.
>Apparently he was really sensitive to bright lights, as you later learned.
>Still, he was the best when it came to these gatherings after the practice, as his mother packed his lunchbox full, and he was willing to share.
>And, of course, your girlfriend would sit right there next to you, on another stool.
>Sun throwing its light on her, framing her beautiful face.
>Of course, you weren’t always dating.
>In the first place, you only knew Kozmic in the beginning.
>She was your childhood friend, after all, and you visited her place every week.
>Then came time for you to enter school, and you met the rest of them.
>After that, the gatherings at Kozmic’s place got even rowdier than before.
>But honestly, you still somewhat missed those quiet evenings in the garden with just Kozmic.
>You started dating in high school, so that meant your evenings were even busier than before.
>Thankfully, your girlfriend wasn’t the type to hog all your time.
 
>Hell, you spent more time as a group than alone with her.
>Here, gathered around this kitchen top.
>Bunch of kids with grand dreams, not knowing what the future would hold.
>A flash of sunlight strikes your eye, and for a moment, you can see what used to be.
>All those familiar faces, so young and innocent.
>A snarky comment from Crystal.
>A precocious warning from Kozmic.
>A quiet affirmation from Haze.
>A heartwarming giggle from your girlfriend.
>And you.
>A dirty little punk with an uncontrollable hair and laugh that was way too loud.
>Even back then, you wore a leather jacket.
>It was your father’s old one.
>You remember stealing his old knife one day, and showing it proudly to your friends.
>You lot ended up carving your initials to the underside of this very kitchen top.
>You reach through the vision and fumble at the spot.
>Ah.
>They’re still here.
>You chuckle to yourself as you feel the rough curves.
>Good thing Mrs. Thrills didn’t find all the marks you left of yourself.
>Suddenly, you feel something.
>A hand touching your wrist.
>You glance sideways, and a gunmetal grey cloud travels across the sky, momentarily blocking the sun.
>The image in your head, one of your friends and yourself, is gone.
>Instead, there’s Aria who’s looking at you with a strange expression.
>Her mouth hangs slightly open, like she wants to say something.
>But she doesn’t.
>Instead she gazes into your eyes, not wavering this time.
>The two of you stay there for a precious few seconds, as you allow your memories to slip away from your fingertips.
>Then, you pet her head gently.
“It’s fine. I’m… fine.”
>Saying no more, you move on from the kitchen, heading to the door that leads to the garden.
>Aria lets go of you, but you can feel her still staring at you.
>Not in a bad way, mind you.
>Perhaps she’s slowly feeling better.
>You can hope.
 
>The door to the garden swings open.
>The grass has been mowed neatly, and the handiwork of Mrs. Thrills is showing clearly.
>You scan the garden with your eyes, trying to find the girl you’ve come to meet.
>It doesn’t take long to spot here.
>There, under a large parasol, is a familiar looking person.
>Dark blue, wavy hair. Pale skin. Eyes that used to be full of laughter.
>She’s looking more gaunt than usual, and you feel your heart sink.
>Next to you, Chrysalis quietly averts her gaze.
>She knows to prepare.
>You steel your mind and start walking over to your old friend.
>This action makes others finally see who you’ve come to meet.
>You hear a few surprised gasps.
>And a quiet:
>”Oh my God…”
>From Sunny Flare.
>You don’t really blame her. You didn’t believe it when you first heard yourself.
>But now, you’re ready to accept the results of your actions.
>Thus, without hesitation, you kneel next to the wheelchair, one much different from Crystal’s.
>This one is heavy piece of equipment, equipped with things you don’t even know the name for.
>In it sits your old childhood friend, glassed-over eyes staring into the sky.
>Kozmic Blues.
>The energetic, nosy, bossy drummer of your band.
>Or as your girlfriend put it: “The girl who always came second.”
>You didn’t really understand that nickname, but then again, their relationship was… strained at times.
>You grasp her hand, and feel something shiver in your chest.
“Hey, Kozmic. I came to see you. Sorry… sorry I’ve been away so long.”
>Your squeeze her hand gently, but she doesn’t respond.
>It’s no surprise.
>After the car crash, she was hurried to the E.R.
>The physical trauma of the crash caused swelling in her brain, and the result…
“... I’m so sorry, Kozmic.”
>You lean your forehead against her hand.
>... Yes, the result was PVS.
>Persistent vegetative state.
>In short… you took the world away from her. Quite literally.
 
>The hand of Kozmic, grasped by your fingers, feels so small and listless.
>She won’t be squeezing you back.
>Heck, most likely she’ll never again move a muscle.
>Instead she just stays there, sitting in that wheelchair, clouded eyes staring into the sky.
>Gone is the perky girl who always kept your band going with her encouragement.
>If your girlfriend had been the sun, then Kozmic had been the moon.
>A pale reflection of such warmth, yes, but shining when it was most needed.
>A hidden light known only by the few.
>Ironic, as that is true for most drummers.
>They are always there, in the background, but rarely do people notice them.
>How fitting of Kozmic, the one who shied away from the spotlight that the rest of you gladly ran into.
>You yourself, especially.
>You were always hogging it.
>A fact that you feel ashamed of, even to this day.
>Trying your best to hide the pain in your chest, you take a look a good look at Kozmic.
>Something lodges in your throat.
>Her limp right hand is wrapped around something you recognize immediately.
>A harmonica, steel glinted with color of aquamarine.
>The ‘A.’ carved into it is a dead giveaway.
>It’s your old harmonica.
>Why… why does she have it?
>How?
>You thought you left it buried with your other things back at home.
>You’re chilled to your bones.
>The pale grass, withered away in the face of the coming winter, feels cold underneath your feet.
>Somehow, the whole world around you is so far away. You can almost hear the echoes of your breath.
>Light vapor in the air.
>A nipping wind in your ears.
>And the crunching footfalls of Mr. Blues as he approaches the lot of you.
>”That’s your harmonica, isn’t it, kid?”
>His voice is clear as the air.
>You nod.
“... Yes, sir.”
>To your surprise, a dry chuckle escapes from his lips.
 
>You take a moment to compose yourself, before speaking again.
”Why does she have it?”
>The girls that have gathered around you give space for the both of you.
>Only their eyes follow the conversation going on.
>”After what happened, I went to your house, you know. Thought I’d get some answers. You were gone though. It was just an empty trailer filled with things left behind.”
>Mr. Blues nods towards the instrument.
>”That was one of them. I almost left it behind, but… then I remembered something my daughter had said to me, once.”
>You turn your gaze back to Kozmic,
>To her form that will never again rise from that wheelchair.
“What was it?”
>His stern gaze is now completely focused on you.
>”She spoke of you and that harmonica. Of how you used to sit atop the old water tower, harmonica on your lips and cigarette in your hands. To her, it was an inspiring sight, a striking image of you against the deep blue Kansas sky. I think she even once said it was… what a hero would look like.”
>You feel the sting of irony.
>You?
>A hero?
>You were a man who was on his way to become a villain wholly by his own choice, for reasons you couldn’t even tell your friends.
>Just when had you been anything close to a hero?
>Just smoking or playing a harmonica does not a hero make.
>”I suppose that’s why she always felt the need to keep you walking the line. She didn’t want to tarnish that image she had of you.”
>You fall into silence, squatting down to the grass.
>Your hand still keeps holding onto hers, fingers intertwined.
>Images of the past, fuzzy and full of static, yet with emotions behind them, keep pounding your mind.
>And despite what you expected, you feel a small smile appear on your lips.
>”... Roadie?”
>Aria walks up to you, looking worried.
>You shake your head at her, and laugh.
>It’s not a happy sound… but it isn’t a sad one either.
 
“I guess that explains why she was always shouting at me whenever I did something stupid. She’d get up my grill about everything, and refused to relent. Like a Jiminy Cricket to my Pinocchio.”
>Aria glances at Kozmic, and then back at you.
>She bites her lip hesitantly, but eventually asks the question you can see in her eyes.
>”Roadie? Did… did Kozmic Blues lo-”
>She never gets to finish her words, as Mr. Blues cuts her off with his deep rumblings.
>”She had some choice words about your girlfriend too, you know.”
>You look up at him, and see mixed emotions in his face. Pride and bitterness, waxing and waning.
>”She never complained when you were around, but when she was alone, or with us… she’d go on about how your girlfriend was always getting in her way. Always being better than her. Always shining brighter than she did.”
>You feel a sigh leave your lips.
>You squeeze Kozmic’s hand a little tighter.
>It is way too late now… but perhaps you’re beginning to understand.
>Understand that things were never that simple, even back then.
“No matter how hard the moon shines, she will never be noticed as long as the sun exists… right? Just a pale reflection, under which us people slumber.”
>To your surprise, Aria nods in understanding.
>It’s almost as if she’s recounting something very old in her head, seeing the shades of it repeating.
>”It’s not that uncommon, Roadie. After all… I’ve seen it happen as well. How the moon can never win against something as brilliant as the sun.”
>It’s clear she’s talking of something that happened long ago.
>And you have no way of knowing what she speaks of.
>And yet… something in your chest stirs.
>As if emotions in the corner of your heart reacted to that.
>Perhaps, in another life, you had heard of this. But now… it’s just an allegory to what happened.
 
“I guess…”
>You try to stop the wavering of your voice, or the shaking of your shoulders, but do a miserable job at it.
>Thus you have to pretend.
>Pretending is something you’ve always been good in.
“I guess there were many things that were left unsaid. Things that we should have spoken about.”
>You hide your emotions under a facade of a try-hard grin, failing to appear even slightly calm.
>But, you can’t help it.
>Not at the moment.
>Unlike with Crystal, Kozmic can never voice her grievances about you.
>She’s forced to stay there, unaware of the world around you.
>Unaware of the fact that you’re there right now, and she could tell you off as much as she liked.
>Unaware that you’d prefer to be hated by her to being ignored.
>Back then, you never realized how much she apparently thought about you.
>You had always taken her for granted.
>From the childhood, she had been with you. You had gotten used to Kozmic following you just two steps behind.
>And now that she can no longer go where you will, you realize just how much she meant to you.
>”Oh, how mysterious!”
>Trixie’s voice draws you from your thought, and your head snaps towards her.
>The blue-hued girl has an awfully fake-looking astonishment written on her face.
>”The Great and Powerful Trixie has suddenly gone completely deaf, along with everyone else! How strange. Trixie supposes that if someone would confess anything right now, she’d have no way of knowing about it. How vexing!”
>To your utter bafflement, the rest of the girls agree with it, acting like they were unable to hear anything.
>Even Mr. Blues gets in on it, giving you an encouraging nod.
>Aria’s hand pats you on the shoulder, telling you to say what needs to be said.
>... Goddammit.
>You really hated this.
>You hated how these teenagers, these girls, these… friends of yours made it impossible for you to hate them.
>How one of them always knew what to say.
---
 
>... And speaking of, you also know what you’re supposed to say now.
“Well, if that’s the case… Kozmic? There’s something I need to tell you.”
>You squeeze her hand slightly, bringing your face closer to hers.
“Honestly, only now do I realize how much you’ve done for me. You were with me from the very beginning, following me to every brainless scheme I cooked up. Hell, you even signed up to the band I started even though you didn’t know a lick about playing rock.”
>Your eyes no longer see the snowless winter garden and the girl in the wheelchair.
>You cast your mind into the memories.
>Of running around the downtown with Kozmic.
>Of wiping away her tears whenever you got into fights.
>Of taking shelter from the rain and spending hours chatting about what you wanted from the future.
“But honestly, I was an ass. I only thought of myself, and I took things most important to me for granted. I was thoughtless and selfish and… and a completely idiot. You all paid the price for my stupidity, and that’s something I can never live down.”
>Of consoling you when you had your first big fight with your girlfriend.
>Of helping you patch things up and then throwing you a big party to celebrate you two getting back together.
>Of straining a smile when the both of you thanked her.
“I can’t ever pay back for everything that you did for me. No matter how much I want, that chance is gone now. Kozmic… the asshole I was could have never made you happy the way you probably wanted. And the man I’m now… the one who could… will never be able to.”
>Of trying to talk you out of driving back to Independence while drunk off your mind.
>Of agreeing with your plan because you told her to trust you.
>Of staring at you from the flaming wreckage of your car, confusion clear in her eyes.
“So… I’m sorry, Kozmic. I’m so sorry.”
 
>”You really have changed, Anonymous.”
>A terrible chill runs down your body.
>Color drains from your face, and your eyes shoot up to look at the girl in the wheelchair.
>For a moment, you were sure you heard her voice.
>But as you look, you realize that was not the case.
>Silently, so silently that you never heard her move, Trixie had made her way to Kozmic.
>Now the magician stands there, hands on your former friend’s shoulders.
>At first, you have no idea what she’s doing.
>You’re even ready to yell at her.
>But then you realize Trixie’s eyes have rolled to the back of her head.
>There’s a small glow where her hands meet Kozmic’s shoulders.
>Her mouth is open… but she’s speaking in a way that Trixie never would.
>Instead, that intonation and slight accent… it sounds so much like the girl sitting there, clouded eyes staring into the sky.
>Is this a trick?
>Or is this real?
>You knew that Starlight had said Trixie had latent gifts when it came to the occult, but you also knew she knew stage magic.
>So was she just faking it, or was this…?
>”You know, you were always a huge jerk. Like, a colossal one. But looking you there, kneeling in front of me… you’ve really come a long way, huh? The Anonymous I knew would’ve never done that.”
>Trixie continues to speak, but it’s getting harder and harder to think of it as her.
>Instead of looking at the blue-hued girl, you turn your gaze upon Kozmic.
>”But the thing is, Anonymous, I’m not angry at you. You lived how your heart told you to, as did we. Nobody forced me into that car. So stop beating yourself over it. You weren’t that charming you know?”
>Trixie… or at least her body, chuckles.
>”I barely recognize you anymore, Anonymous. I suppose you finally figured out that just like how your friends need you, you also need your friends. That’s good. So, there’s another thing you should figure out, too.”
 
>Hah.
>She was always like that. It was an odd way of talking.
>Like she was both looking down on you, and trying to give you advice.
>A younger sister masquerading as an older one.
“... What’s that?”
>And yet, even if you hated her tone of voice, you listened to it every time.
>Because deep down, you knew she had only your best interest in mind.
>Kozmic always took care of you when nobody else did.
>”Stop clinging to the past. Or getting burdened by it. You can keep us in your memories, but don’t let that stop you from doing what needs to be done. Just looking at you, it’s clear there’s a ton of other people you should focus on.”
>You twitch, ever so slightly.
>”Or promises you should be keeping instead of slaving over what happened to us.”
>For a moment, just for a moment, an image of three faces fills your mind.
>One haughty. One grumpy. One happy.
>A family that you found despite all the odds.
>”Anonymous? Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly happy right now.”
>For some reason, your vision gets all blurry.
>As if rain got into your eyes.
>You’re try to wipe the water away, to no avail.
>”After all… I got to meet you.”
>Gritting your teeth, you close your eyes.
>”I got to fall in love with you.”
>You are no longer able to hold back the streaming drops.
>”And…”
>Trixie’s voice fades away.
>Instead of it, you hear someone else.
>Someone who you thought you’d never hear speaking again.
>Maybe it’s a trick, maybe it’s not.
>Nevertheless, you hear Kozmic’s warm words fill your heads.
>But even more so than the voice… you know one thing for fact.
>It was no trick of a mind.
>She did, for a moment, squeeze your hand back.
>”... I got to see that you grew up into the man I knew you were, deep down.”
>As you do your best to not to cry, you feel someone embrace you.
>The fragrance tells you it’s Aria.
>But right now, just for a moment, you pretend it’s Kozmic.
 
>It takes about ten minutes for you to collect yourself.
>The girls, luckily, give you enough space during that time.
>It also takes about two cigarettes, but who’s counting at this point?
>Hell, you’re pretty sure that by the time you’re leaving Independence, you’ll be well into your second pack for the day.
>As you watch the cloudy skies through the thick smoke snaking towards the air, you finally begin to feel like your old self again.
>No, not your old self.
>Something inside you is gone.
>Something broken, replaced by something whole.
>A weight on your shoulder is that much lighter.
>Both Crystal Ship and Kozmic Blues… their chapters in your life have come to a close.
>What remains is Purple Haze, and after him…
>... No, you didn’t want to think about it just yet.
>You had just regained the control of your emotions.
>Honestly, if you hadn’t visited Crystal Ship first, and experienced all that, you wouldn’t be able to show your face in front of the girls.
>Especially Aria.
>You didn’t give into the tears… but you almost did.
>It was like you totally lost your normal level-headedness.
>... Hah. You? Level-headed?
>You wanted to laugh at that.
>”Son?”
>You turn around. Turtle Blues stands there, odd look in his eyes.
>Why were they so red?
“Yes? If you’re worried about us sticking around, we’ll be leaving soon, sir. Just… just needed to calm down for a moment.”
>”Didn’t mean that. I said we should talk a bit before you leave, right?”
>You never really knew what this man was thinking, but right now that fact was doubly true.
>You did see he was hiding something behind his back, though.
“Yes, sir? If there’s anything I can do-”
>”Here. I think this was meant for you.”
>Before you quite know what’s happening, Mr. Blues presses something in your hand.
 
>You look down, confused.
>Your confusion only grows further as you realize what you’re holding.
>It’s five small, wooden boxes, longer than they are wide, tied together with a hemp string.
>’Stradivarius’, is written onto every box.
“This is…?”
>”I think my daughter wanted to give you that as a birthday present. She was saving up money and buying one when she could. Thought she’d collect enough to fill a proper case, but… then all that happened.”
>You nod solemnly.
>But despite the melancholy hanging in the air, you find yourself smiling.
>Just a bit.
“Thank you. This… I guess I should’ve seen this coming. She always liked to joke she had something big planned. It would’ve been after our contract signing, too…”
>The collection of boxes is too big to fit in your pocket, so you just put them under your arm.
“I mean it. Thank you, sir. I know I don’t have anything to give back, but if there’s-”
>He puts out his arm to stop you.
>”Now, don’t say that. You’ve given us something alright. Something we’ve been in dire need of.”
>He looks back to the center of the garden, where Kozmic and rest of the girls are.
>Looks like they’re in a heated conversation with Trixie.
>”Closure, son. It’s been in short supply in this town after what happened. I know most folk won’t understand, but I knew your old man. And I don’t blame you for growing up crooked. The most important thing is that you realized it yourself, and set out to fix that.”
>Turtle Blues looks you straight in the eye.
>”If I were Ol’ Unknown, I’d be damn proud of you, son.
>He offers his hand to you.
>You stretch out to take it.
“Thanks, sir. After all I did, I don-”
>Before you know it, he grasps you in a quick bear hug.
>”Now go on, son, and show us you can be more than the sum of your mistakes.”
>Damn it.
>You hate to admit it, but… this reminds you of dad.
“... I will, sir.”