Day 1 - Friday

Sarah was a well known figure around school. The fact she was six foot two at 19, was the star player of the women’s soccer team, and had a figure and muscles befitting that position only made up for about half her notoriety. The other half was her mysterious illness, and the accompanying mystery medicine. 

 

All anyone knew about the illness was that it had caused her to skip a year before entering high school, and that as long as she took one of her pills every few hours there was nothing to worry about. So why was it such a big deal? Because her medicine was carried in what appeared to be a candy dispenser, which announced its use with a quiet click. 

 

In a quiet class, even with the teacher talking, everyone knew when Sarah took a pill, but oddly, no one could ever catch sight of the pills themselves. This was only further compounded by over a dozen failed attempts at stealing it. Simply asking her to show them hadn’t worked, and trying to convince a couple teachers to make her had similarly failed. Truly, the pills seemed like a mystery never to be cracked.

 

So imagine Jay’s surprise when, on his way home through the woods, he found a brightly coloured candy dispenser sitting in a bush just off his path. Carefully, and with no small amount of disbelief he pulled the familiar device from the bush and just… stared at it for several long seconds. He’d shared at least one class with Sarah all four years of high school. The device he held in his hands was unmistakably identical to the one he’d seen her using all those years, and for that matter, earlier that day.

 

With shaking hands he clicked out a single pill, his brain unable to come up with an excuse before his hands could perform the simple action. What came out was a pastel pink rectangular tablet with three letters set into the side. It took him a second to realise those letters were “DES” rather than “PEZ” but even with that, he couldn’t see anything but the familiar, if slightly outdated, candy.

 

With his caution slowly abating under the weight of sheer confusion he lifted it to his nose. Sugar. It just smelled like sugar. When a group of girls had tried to convince a teacher to step in they’d said they thought she was just eating candy in class, which was against school rules. The teacher had simply confirmed it was medicine, but what if… What if it actually was just candy? Maybe she just suffered from low blood sugar and knockoff pez was just the easiest way to manage it?

 

Emboldened by his guesswork and the few hints presented he popped the tablet into his mouth and let it sit on his tongue. He told himself the moment it started tasting even vaguely medicinal he’d spit it out, but it never did. No, it started off tasting mostly of sugar with a hint of fake strawberry, and developed into a rich burst of fruity delight. He was genuinely surprised at just how good it tasted, and had to resist the urge to pop another one immediately. 

 

He looked at the dispenser in his hand with a smile. They were just candy, probably a way to manage blood sugar, she’d have other ways to manage over the weekend. Besides, he didn’t have a good way to contact her, so returning it on monday just made sense. If she noticed a few tablets missing when he returned it he could just play dumb, say they must have been taken by someone before he found it. Not that he intended to have any more of course, but if he did, well, he’d have an excuse ready.

 

The rest of the walk home was uneventful, and he was soon tucked away in his room working through a weekend’s worth of homework in the hopes of earning himself a non-stop, weekend-long gaming session once dinner was done. It was close, even with dinner prep running late, but he managed to scribble down the last answer between the second and third “Johnathan, dinner’s ready!”

 

Dinner was chicken carbonara with a side helping of questions about how school was going, which he helpfully answered with the standard selection of white lies and ambiguous statements. At least his father wasn’t there so he was able to keep things light. His father always asked follow up questions, digging in for specific numbers and comparisons which he could grunt his approval or disapproval of. Fortunately, his father spent most nights out with friends, meaning he could go weeks without having to endure his scrutiny.

 

After confirming he’d completed his homework for the weekend and depositing his plate and fork in the dishwasher he scurried upstairs as quickly as he could. He wasn’t eager to give his mother any extra opportunities to try and chat. 

 

Booting up his computer he was bombarded by a small collection of greetings from his discord friends, particularly the ones that had been waiting for him to show so they could get to gaming. It was a nice little community and he smiled at the friendly banter being exchanged throughout the night. He didn’t talk much, but nobody minded, they knew he’d speak up if he wanted or needed to. 

 

It was during a discussion of delicious desserts that Jay popped out his second tablet. They never had desert, let alone candy, in the house. His father had some… Interesting opinions about weight and how to manage it, and Jay just had to deal with that. So how could he resist the incredibly logical excuse of having one for desert? The yellow tablet had tasted of candy banana, but even that vile flavour became something wonderful once the tablet began to dissolve. 

 

He was pretty embarrassed when his friends called him out on the sound he’d made, and that embarrassment only grew as he explained and they congratulated him on his contraband. A couple even swore they’d mail him candy some day, but he talked them down by pointing out his father might find it. Despite the hiccup, it was a good night, spent with good friends, and as he slipped into bed he hoped it’d be followed by a good sleep.

 

Day 2 - Saturday

The next morning Jay awoke with the pleasant warmth of a comfortable bed, and the lingering joy of an already forgotten dream. Hints of giggling laughter and flashes of affection tinted the muffled memory, painting it with the slightest bit of regret that he’d never know exactly what he’d dreamed. 

 

Resigned to the minor tragedy, he began to sit up, intending to pull his hands free from beneath his blankets, only to find himself shivering slightly in delight at the feeling of the back of his nails rubbing against the fabric. He found himself repeating the motion over and over, letting himself indulge in the oddly pleasant sensation for several minutes before finally pulling his hands free.

 

He looked at his hands curiously, wondering if there was any visible explanation for his newfound delight in what had previously been a mundane sensation. His nails looked nice, maybe a bit long but not yet long enough to make him feel like he needed to cut them. They had a bit of a shape to them, maybe a bit of a point to their tips? But he quickly realised he had never really paid attention to fingernails, his or anyone else’s. He had no clue what his nails looked like the day before, let alone a week ago, so he had no clue if they looked normal or not.

 

Deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth he decided to let it go, climbing out of bed and giving the stretch he’d been intending before the mystery of his nails had come up. He had more important things to do than worry about why his nails felt good. Namely, as many hours of gaming as he could get away with. To that end he grabbed his comfiest sweater and sweatpants, some underwear, a towel, noted how nice it felt rubbing his nails over the various fabrics, then snuck his way to the bathroom.

 

It was unlikely either of his parents would see him, but if they did there was no way he was escaping without some amount of awkwardness ranging from a conversation of his plans for the day, to a full on derailment of his plans for the day. Fortunately, he was in the bathroom with the door closed before they could catch him. He didn’t bother flicking on the light, the mottled light through the frosted glass window enough to navigate the familiar space. He was in the shower mere seconds after he’d disrobed, and was quick to get to work on making his body as tolerable as it could be.

 

Unfortunately, his efforts at speed were almost immediately derailed as his nails met his bar of soap, the soft material giving way without a sound as first one, then two, then all five nails on his left hand pierced it. It was different from the fabric, there was a deep, primal satisfaction in letting his nails slip in, It was like a buzz of electricity spreading through his bones and filling him with an energetic warmth. He luxuriated in the feeling as it spread through him, filling him more and more as he pushed in his nails as deep as they would go before finally, roughly, pulling them free. The sense of rightness as he pulled them free was breathtaking, causing his entire body to shudder in delight. He let his right hand go next, the experience no less wonderfully indulgent than the first. In. Hold. Out. He smiled, his entire body buzzing with delight. But curiosity demanded experimentation. He scratched at it, just letting his nails run over its surface, and found himself pulling free thin strips with a giddy delight he hadn’t felt in ages.

 

More and more he clawed and stabbed and scratched and tore at the brick, until he was left with little more than shreds of soap. It was a waste, but he didn’t care, he was smiling from ear to ear and indulging in a full body delight he hadn’t felt since he gave up swimming years ago. No, maybe not even then. This was so much more, so much deeper, like it was a part of him that had been waiting his entire life for him to find, and it was just as delighted as he was that he finally had.

 

He forced himself to finish his shower, even while delighting in the feeling of his short hair on his nails. Once he was done and dressed he disposed of and replaced the destroyed bar of soap, barely resisting the urge to tear into the new one, reminding himself he did still want to play games with his friends. He couldn’t just spend all day destroying bars of soap. They only had three left after all. 

 

The walk back to his room was an awkward mix between a sneaking scurry and a nonchalant saunter, not wanting to be seen, but not wanting to seem suspicious if he was. It wasn’t until he got back to his room that he finally allowed himself to really relax. Without much thought he popped another tablet as he slipped into his chair and turned on his computer. 

 

Waiting for the ageing machine to turn on gave him plenty of time to get settled, to run his nails over the wood of his desk, to tap the tips against the various toys and detritus atop it, to position his hand on his mouse so that he could click with the tips of his nails while rubbing the textured side with his thumb. It was all such a delight that he barely noticed the computer had gotten up and running while he was distracted. It was only thanks to the beeps of incoming messages that he turned his attention to the screen. He’d barely even registered that he’d put on his headphones at some point during the start up.

 

Fortunately, his friends were a worthy enough reason to put aside his oddly wonderful nails, so he began responding to the various good mornings and messages. The fact he was typing with the tips of his nails slowed him down a bit, but the little jolt of joy he got with each tap was worth it, and it wasn’t like he typed particularly fast to begin with. 

 

The day went on about as normal, though with a few added comments about him seeming happier than usual, and a couple about him talking in text chat more often. He kept things ambiguous, referring to a good night's sleep and a nice dream when pressed, but for the most part just kept quiet. How was he supposed to explain that his nails started feeling good? Did nails even have nerve endings in them? It was just easier to keep quiet, enjoy their company, and occasionally pop another one of Sarah’s candies.

 

It was dinner time before he knew it, and his stomach wasn’t exactly happy about the fact his food intake for the day was three little sugar tablets. Letting his friends know, and warning he might get roped into something afterwards, he signed out of the voice chat and made his way downstairs. As expected from the time and the smell that had reached his room, food was almost ready when he arrived. Unfortunately, almost ready also meant not ready, and that left his mother several minutes to talk with him about his day. 

 

He did his best to simplify what he’d been up to, but his mother had never even watched him play a video game, let alone played one herself, so most of it was lost on her. On the one hand, he appreciated the attempt at engaging with his interests, on the other, it was such a half-hearted attempt he wasn’t sure it even really counted. Regardless, it was good enough to waste time until dinner was ready and soon their mouths were more occupied with the nameless casserole than speaking.

 

A part of him was disappointed it wasn’t something he could sink his nails into, but a more rational part argued it was likely for the best that he didn’t let his mother know anything was up. He managed to avoid any further chatter by gobbling down a double helping with all the vigour of a teenager who’d skipped breakfast and lunch, then rapidly dropping his dishes in the washer before scurrying back upstairs to his room.

 

Another tablet for dessert and he settled in for the long haul, doubting anyone would be heading off before midnight. It wasn’t exactly a risky bet given the tendencies of his group, though he did manage to be proven wrong when one of his friends found out his laptop charging cable had apparently stopped working around the time his laptop died mid game. Down a player they had to change up their plans a bit, and three more members trickled out as they moved to games or content they were less fond of. 

 

Still, at midnight the eight of them were going strong. The patter of rain on his window barely audible through his headphones, and the occasional flash of distant lightning barely registering over the effects of the game. So it was somewhat of a surprise to Jay when the house went dark, and the sudden silence was pierced by the rumble of thunder.

 

He hopped on his phone to let his friends know what had happened, and began getting ready for bed. If the power came back quickly it wouldn’t be much trouble to go back to gaming, but he didn’t intend to wait up for hours hoping. Swaddled in his oversized pyjamas and with one last tablet in his mouth the power was still out, and so he climbed into bed. Despite some bad luck here and there, it had been a good day. It had only been a day, but he’d gotten more used to his nails already. The joy they provided had faded from a distraction to a passive delight as he continued to type and tap and scratch throughout the day. Maybe it wasn’t the most incredible thing to ever happen to anyone, but it was a small ray of sunshine in an otherwise rather dull grey life, and he intended to enjoy it.