Recommended Topic: [Facility: Ariel & Sarah]

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• Ariel   -

        Ariel knew the feeling. Scratch that, he didn’t know what Michael was feeling, but he knew something similar, so he left. Besides, he wasn’t allowed to let his roommate out of sight. Where’s Michael’s roommate…? He dismissed the thought. It was Vincent, and he didn’t want to deal with that scary man. He shuddered. But his partner Sarah was awesome. Sarah was a little prone to anxiety and being overly polite, but besides that she had no problems and a sunny outlook on life. She had  even played with stuffed animals with him earlier. 

        Ariel walked over to Sarah and flashed her a smile, but it quickly slipped off his face when he saw the look on Sarah’s face. She looked sad. Speeding over to her and taking a seat on the stool next to her, he grabbed her arm. 

      “Sarah?”

      She sighed. “I wanna be like them. But I…” She said wistfully, pointing at the two older girls behind the counter cooking pancakes and glancing at her white dress. Ariel blinked.

      “You're right! They look super cool, and I bet they're super nice too!” He gripped her arm harder and tugged her toward the girls, ignoring her protests.

      “What are you doing?!” She hissed. “Can’t you see? I’m super weird and girly with my stupid dresses and their…” Ariel’s eyebrows scrunched up in sympathy. 

      “Oh, I’m sorry.” Don’t assume Ariel! You might have hurt her. Ariel chided himself, glaring at the floor.

      “No…you're right. I won’t know till I try,” Sarah said, a little unsure but still firm. Ariel bit his lip but nodded. He waved at the two girls.

      “Cal, Char! I have somebody who wants to meet you!” Cal turned around first with a stern look on her face. Ariel winced. Not the best start. He could hear Sarah’s gulp. Oh dear me.

      “What do you want?” Cal asked, her deep voice naturally intimidating. Char turned at that and slapped Cal over the head. Cal blinked.

      “Oh, shi—shart. I’m, uh, sorry about that.” Cal scratched the back of her neck, shockingly seeming a little nervous. 

      “Err…I’m kinda not the best at being nice?” She explained with a wince. Ariel shared a glance with Sarah, then another.

      “I get it! That double take was completely unnecessary though.” Cal retorted, folding her arms and turning away in embarrassment. Surprised and relieved, Sarah and Ariel burst out laughing. Cal turned even further away, and they laughed even harder. Char started laughing, and Sarah even snorted. That of course, only made them laugh harder, and eventually even Cal started laughing, the sound deep and mirthful. Char wiped a tear from her eye and grinned.

      “You two are officially signed on as friends if you can make Cal embarrassed.” She declared, and Sarah and Ariel grinned at each other. Cal sputtered, but Char just clamped her hand over Cal’s mouth and went back to cooking. When they both weren’t looking, Sarah cast Ariel a grateful look. Ariel gave her a big thumbs up and a smile.  

Recommended Topic: [Beastly Friend]

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• Jeremiah   -

      Jeremiah was overjoyed to have André back. He was like a brother to him. Honestly he was still unsure how André got in, but that was a story for another time. It had been a few weeks since he, Sarah, and Michael had arrived. All the kids had quickly become friends, and they often hung out in the mornings. André was the crazy and fun one, sometimes getting them in trouble. He claimed Jeremiah was the know it all, but Michael had…showed he thought Jeremiah was the one keeping them from going off their rocker. Sarah was caring, shy and girly, but she had a dark, more emo side he discovered. Cal had started to respect Sarah a lot after her darker side reared its face. Ariel was a total sweetheart with a mischievous attitude. Ariel was always adorable and kind, but loved to play pranks with André. Sarah was his best friend, and surprisingly, Cal and Char had a soft spot for him. Char and Cal were the bosses of the group, especially Cal, but each in their own right. Cal was bossy but secretly kind, and Char was always nice but shut out her feelings when it was time to get something across. Michael was like the overworked mom of the group. He was almost like a parent figure for them. The way he comforted them and helped them through concerns matched what Jeremiah had always heard of but never had. He had to admit he kinda liked the idea of having a mom, even if it was really just Michael. But also like mothers, occasionally Michael was either sad or wanted something done in a panicked way. That’s when Michael got really frightened. But no matter what, it was fun to hang out with them.

      Today was just another one of those days where he would have fun with friends. 

      Or so he thought. He came in cheerfully when he saw a surprising sight. Kaila was crying—scratch that, sobbing. Snot was dribbling out of their nose and tears flowed out their eyes, making her a horrible mess. Of course Jeremiah didn’t care and immediately ran over to them. They weren’t really a part of all the kids that had started hanging out together, but they were kind to them, if a bit distant. He rubbed their back and was about to ask what was going on and if they were okay when he remembered something. There was a night where André had suddenly got sad and started crying, and he had rushed to ask when Michael had stopped him. For some reason, Michael thought it was bad to ask questions when somebody was upset. But when Michael let him back in, a pink eyed André was sleeping peacefully and was better the next morning, so Jeremiah couldn’t help but believe Michael was right. 

      So he quietly moved and instead sat down just across the couch, close enough to be there and keep an eye on Kaila without bothering them. 

      It stayed that way for a while before he heard familiar soft footsteps echo from the hall. He knew from the sound and the knowledge that he was usually the first one to wake that it was Michael. The aforementioned eight year old child peeked around the corner curiously. Michael saw the situation and quickly came over. Jeremiah perked up. Michael was actually friends with the quiet Kaila, so he might be able to get more out of them. Like a moth to flame, when Michael sat down Kaila tackled him with an over the shoulder, sobbing hug. Jeremiah smiled and got up as quietly as possible to move to guard the hallway. He wasn’t any good at consoling people, but he could make sure they weren’t bothered during their moment.

• Michael   -

       Michael, technically, was very good with people. Aspects about himself were both boons and banes. Bad glossophobia, a stiff face, and social anxiety wasn’t very good for making a friend, more forcing him into an observant, lonely situation. But it had helped him understand people a little better. A stiff face and glossophobia actually helped when it came to comforting someone. They knew he wasn’t going to be talking anytime soon, and with a stiff face there was no judgment to be seen whether he felt different or not. It was kinda like a free, warm friend-dummy. Well, not the warmest with being dead and all, but that didn’t matter.

     Kaila cried over his shoulder for quite awhile before beginning to compose themself. Michael waited patiently as they wiped away the tears and snot from their face and rubbed their red eyes. Kaila took a moment to breathe in deep before speaking hesitantly, refusing to look directly at Michael.

     “I-I’m sorry, it’s just…they told me I have to go. They said I was fine now. They're lying, I know it! They…” Kaila paused and sniffed, tears building in their eyes again. They fought through to speak. “They suspect me, and I think they have suspicions about Caleb.” Michael blinked in confusion, cocking his head to the side. Kaila sighed, though it came out more like a sob.

     “You don’t know Caleb. He was my friend in a rather harsh place, but he didn’t make it out the same way I did. When we escaped, he did what he had to do to get us out, but it had…repercussions. I brought him with me when I got here, and he hides in an abandoned office. I get him food, but if they take me, who’s going to take care of him?” Kaila grabbed Michael’s shoulder, their haunted eyes staring into Michael’s. 

     “Please,” They whispered, their voice cracked and sad. “Take care of Caleb for me. Tell him I couldn’t do it anymore because of the staff, ok? Don’t let him find out I’m gone. And please, don’t freak out when you see him.” Kaila pleaded, shaking hands gripping Michael like a life jacket. Michael didn’t know how to say no to them, so he nodded. Kaila collapsed, a barely conscious smile on her face. 

     “Thank you.”

     Michael gently rested her on the couch and asked her one final question. He tapped his wrist.

    “They’re taking me now,” Kaila answered quietly, and Michael heard the loud, telltale footsteps of the staff. To be safe, he scrambled into the kitchen and hid behind the island, peeking out from the left just enough to watch. The cold tile bit at the small bits of exposed skin, but he couldn’t not watch Kaila be taken away. The staff stormed in, grabbed Kaila by her arms, and started dragging her. Kaila desperately sent one final glance. Unfortunately, this final desperate effort to find comfort in another’s eyes was followed by Dr. Fitzgerald. For a horrifying split second, Michael’s pale blue eyes met the doctor's shocked dark brown. Michael scrambled back behind the island, heart racing. 

     He saw me. Kaila’s gone. I’m supposed to help Caleb. He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed his flower crown from MMT, shoving it over his face. Michael cried bloody tears behind the island for a long time.

-

       It was Michael’s first morning feeding Caleb. Five in the morning was an absurd time, but Michael didn’t need to sleep. In fact, he often struggled to sleep when only nightmares of yellow eyes and death awaited him. He silently got out of bed and sat down on the floor. Pulling out a tray of cold food he had brought up yesterday, he began to exit the room, quiet as a mouse. He jumped when Vincent let out a grumble from the other bed, but otherwise the escape went without incident. The hallway was dark and silent. He pulled his flower crown over his head and evicted a memory to change. Suddenly he could see, and was infinitely grateful his “dead eyes” acted like night vision and X-ray vision. Soon enough he found the abandoned office, its door metal and black. Michael couldn’t help but shiver as he hesitantly turned the handle. A gentle click resounded through the quiet, dark hallway as Michael opened the door. 

       Fear scattered up his bones when he saw the pitch black room. He didn’t have the irrational fear of their being some monster in the dark, but he was afraid because he knew something was in the dark. Someone that Kaila had ominously said “…he did what he had to do to get us out, but it had…repercussions.” and “don’t freak out when you see him.”, scaring Michael. Why would she say that? What does he look like? Biting his lip and shoving away the fear clutching him, he stepped cautiously into the room. He scurried to find the light switch, hands splayed across the wall. A sigh of relief escaped him when he found it, and he hastily turned it on. Suspense did begin to arise again though as he saw how bad the lights and the rest of the room was. The room had damp concrete floors covered with wet files with small puddles everywhere. Water leaked from the ceiling, the eery dripping noise the only sound in the silent, dark room. The lights were an icky yellow, and their dim light barely illuminated the room, occasionally flickering. The walls were probably once white, but they were gross and dark after some kind of water problem, Michael assumed. Strange, this is a newer building after all. He didn’t have much worry left to think about that, though. Especially not after he looked at the lone person in the room. 

       A frightful sight awaited him. Six black eyes with white vertical pupils stared at him. White hair and white, furry ears and tail protruded from the body, which was draped by a tattered white uniform. Skin covered their limbs all the way until their ankles and wrists, where a strange black substance formed vicious claws. But this wasn’t the most shocking discovery. This…person. Caleb, he’s dead.

      He knew full well by the presence of Will that Caleb was dead. This was his dead form, beastly as it may be. It made complete sense the more Michael thought about it. Kaila and Caleb get in some kind of trouble and have to get away, but they must surpass danger. Caleb dies, but his subconscious is still thinking about saving Kaila, so his subconscious forms an intimidating and dangerous form to save Kaila. With nobody to tell him he’s dead and no proof, he assumes something supernatural at hand and ends up stuck in the current situation. 

     Even now having a general theory of what went down, Michael wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation. He couldn’t just tell Caleb he was dead, that wouldn’t work for countless reasons. But it also couldn’t keep on like this forever. Eventually Caleb would find out, and eventually he would have to go. The only reason Michael felt the need to change the circumstance was because he worried of the damage a rampaging Caleb would do. He had friends here to worry about, and Caleb was a living hazard. A person no doubt, but Michael didn’t know Caleb and didn’t care much for him. He considered neutralizing Caleb, but he wasn’t sure how he’d pull that off and ended up deciding to stay on his good side. Chill with the thought train Michael, you just met him and he hasn’t even talked. Don’t overthink it too much.

       Michael could have pondered this topic for hours, but Caleb clearly did not feel patient. The beastly man growled and stomped over to Michael, six eyes glaring down the small eight year old. 

      “W-who are you and w-where is K-Kaila?” Caleb demanded gravelly, fanged mouth not helping him speak. Michael winced and his hands instinctively raised to his ears at the grating noise. Caleb’s tail swished impatiently and his foot-claw tapped expectantly. Michael gulped. This was the part he had overlooked. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, his throat freezing with horror and fright as it always did, whether a dangerous beast was in front of him or not. Miraculously, Caleb sighed, exasperated, but for a different reason.

      “Frozen by shock, huh? Well, you can write on the back of one of those files. Here’s a pen.” Caleb provided, then handed Michael a pen from the cluttered floor. Michael grasped it shakily. Caleb wrongly assumed that his lack of speech was because he feared the beastly man, but he also wasn’t completely wrong. Caleb was frightening. 

      Michael hastily scribbled words on the paper in shaky letters, hoping they explained the fake situation well enough. Caleb moved over by Michael and examined the paper, nodded and muttering to himself. Michael watched trepidly and flinched when Caleb’s ears flattened.

      “They suspect them? You're replacing Kaila…for now. I-If it keeps Kaila safe, I guess I can deal with it for now.” Michael winced at the choice of “for now”, but tried not to dwell on it. He needed more time to think before crossing that bridge. 

      Caleb cast a glance at Michael impatiently. Oh right, food. Technically Caleb didn’t need it, but Michael had to keep up the facade at least for now. Caleb eagerly snatched the tray from Michael, eating like an animal as he dug into the feast. Michael lowered himself to the ground and curiously piled up the scattered file. He noticed dates in the corner, and he organized them from last to most recent. They were wet, but when he opened them he could still read the words.

      First day here. The building isn’t furnished or polished yet, but everybody’s begun to move in, and I decided to get an early start. 

      When it’s officially finished, they decided they’ll send me Vincent and Mason. I wish Liam would cooperate, I’m considering telling him Vincent is here. He still doesn’t know what happened to him. He knows Mason is here though, and is probably afraid. I can’t blame him, I’m pretty sure Mason would kill Liam if he came after what he did. I’m worried enough with Mason and Vincent being in the same building. Vincent didn’t do anything, but because of his relationship with Liam…things could get out of hand. But I have work, and I can’t spend all my time on old friends. If I can even call them that. Even Rose seems less like an old buddy these days. I have work, but my mind is only thinking of them.

       Michael stared at the page. He’d heard those names before. Vincent was his weird friend, Mason was the scary person he was slowly starting to tolerate, Rose was his mama, and Liam was father. He remembered the files back in Firmin HQ. Horrible memories resurfaced with it, but even so he remembered the names in the Janitors Closet. Some here were new, but only one was missing. Thomas. His breathing sped up a little, and darkness creeped at the edge of his vision, but he flailed against the tidal forces and got up. Like a dazed mummy—in a way he was one—he trudged out of the room, ignoring Caleb’s muffled questions. He slowly picked up speed until he was running towards his room and away from his horrifying memories. 

        Michael burst through the metal door, slammed it behind him and launched himself into the bathroom, locking the door. Then, he cried. He didn’t care as he changed into his full dead form, he just wallowed in sorrow. Eventually he grew horribly exhausted and sad, and he lauded down on the cold tile floor to sleep. Blood still flowed out of his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the need to sleep, to escape. He needed sleep.

        Haunted by blood and yellow eyes, it never came. 

• Vincent   - 

       Vincent was rather confused. At the crack of dawn before even Vincent usually woke up, Michael charged unstoppably through the room and locked himself in the bathroom. Again. He was reluctant to admit that he was a little concerned, but he stuck around. The staff tells me I have to, after all. Only staying because of program shit. Definitely. 

      Eventually Vincent heard the gentle telltale click of the door unlocking. It didn’t open, but Vincent knew Michael wouldn’t have unlocked it if he wasn’t ready to see somebody. So, carefully and quietly, he approached the door and opened it as silently as possible. Michael was sitting on the white tile floor. Blood smeared his face in streaks on his face, which had the flower crown over it. Vincent sighed and sat down beside the boy, his back against the cool wall. 

       “Do you want to show me what happened?” Vincent asked tentatively, choosing his words carefully. He was new to this comforting stuff. After a minute, Michael answered with a tiny nod. He pulled out a pen that he mysteriously had on hand and crawled over to grab a roll of toilet paper. It wasn’t pretty, but Michael started writing. 

       And writing.

       And writing still.

     Eventually he ceased, hastily pulling his knees back to his chest in his default state. Michael stared at the writing, then back at the ground. They look concerningly sad. Vincent lifted the paper up to see and began at the top. 

      It was all simple. No adjectives to sugar coat or invoke pity, just what was. It didn’t really reveal that much, to be honest, but it did say that he was afraid of Thomas because of reasons he didn’t write. He also wrote about having to help Kaila’s friend, who he simply described as “okay”. Even so, it gave off the vibe that something was different about this Caleb. He didn’t ponder that long, his eyes constantly catching on that one name. Thomas.

     He knew Thomas well, and he knew that man was long dead. There should be no way Michael knew that man, nonetheless be afraid of him. The worst thing was that the only explanation was that Michael was afraid of Mason, not Thomas. It lined up, but it also didn’t make any sense. Mason wouldn’t…Vincent shook his head. He couldn’t start assuming those things yet. He gently spoke to the trembling boy.

     “Michael, I once knew Thomas, and he’s dead now. Are you sure you don’t mean Mason?” Michael stopped shaking the minute the words “dead” were spoken, and he looked at Vincent. He pointed at a word on the roll of toilet paper. Thomas. Vincent bit his lip. “Then why are you afraid of Mason?” Michael pointed to his covered eyes wordlessly. Because their eyes are the same. Vincent frowned. None of it made any sense. 

      “Michael, Thomas is dead. Are you sure-“

      “Y-Yes.”

     Vincent couldn’t conceal his utter shock. It was the first time he had ever heard Michael speak. He couldn’t help but believe Michael. The way his soft voice seemed haunted, dripping with a blood curdling fear. Whether it made sense or not, Vincent wholly believed Thomas had done something horrible to Michael. What, he had no clue. The question plagued his thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask after the way Michael had acted. They sat in the bathroom for a while. Vincent, cold hearted bitch that he knew he was, felt just a little warmer when Michael’s small head rested on his shoulder gently. 

Recommended Topic: [What Happened?]

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• Michael   -

      A month after his breakdown, Dr. Fitzgerald had called for everybody. The other kids scurried over to him, looking for answers. André spoke up first, bold as always.

     “What’s going on? We never do anything, then this?” Michael thought for a moment. He looked around the room for something to express his point, and he was happy to find something close enough. He raised a bandaged finger and pointed to an Activity poster to their right. Ariel, who always seemed to understand what Michael was getting at, translated.

     “Ohh, I get it. We’re doing one of the activities that’s meant to “help” us. Some crap like that.” Michael frowned. Ariel has definitely been hanging out with André and Jeremiah. Sarah, true to her polite nature, immediately scolded Ariel and sent André a death glare. André just grinned and elbowed Jeremiah for some reason none of the others knew. Cal quickly reeled in the situation and basically commanded them to sod over to the front of the room or she would beat their asses. Char took the lead on chastising this time. One soar-headed Cal and six others including Michael mobbed over to where Dr. Fitzgerald stood. As they lined up, Michael settled at the edge of the kid group to stand by Vincent, sparing the others. Vincent glanced at the crowd of kids and groaned.

        “Children. Vile creations of Satan, they are.” Mason raised an accusatory eyebrow at the comment.

        “You were a child once too, you know.” 

        Vincent grinned. “Exactly.”

        “I hate to admit you have a point.”

       Michael smiled a little at the familiar banter. He had learned to tolerate Mason much better, especially when the yellow-eyes man was joking around. Snapping arrested Michael’s attention and he turned to look at Dr. Fitzgerald.

      “Alright everybody! We’ve given you newcomers a month or so to settle in, but now that we’ve gotten past that, I think it’s due time we had an activity! This is what you're here for, after all.” Dr. Fitzgerald announced cheerily. The rest of the room was far less cheerful. Can’t we just stay here? Michael selfishly wished for such a world. 

      Alas, time moved forward and Dr. Fitzgerald soon had them shoveling themselves onto a new and shiny bus. Michael was seated with Char, Ariel with Jeremiah, Sarah with André, Cal in front of Michael with Vincent, and Mason seated alone at the very front of the bus.

     “I wanna switch,” Cal complained, turning around to face Char and groaning. “This crazy idiot is going to murder me. I accidentally stepped on his foot.” Char sighed, shaking her head exasperatedly. 

     “He is not gonna kill you because you stepped on his foot. At least you didn’t step on something else.” Char reasoned, then cast a glance at Michael. “Sorry.” Michael shook his head, dismissing the apology. It’s not like I have one anymore. Michael was dead and missing a certain appendage, as well as a five year old at heart, so he genuinely didn’t care much for the concept of gender.

     Dr. Fitzgerald had explained roughly that they were going to read to kindergarteners, but after Dr. Fitzgerald explained that he didn’t have to read and would only tag along with Vincent, he stopped listening. Immediately after Dr. Fitzgerald ceased his rambling, Ariel, who was in the aisle seat next to Jeremiah across from Michael, turned to them. 

      “Pop quiz!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. Michael, Cal, Char, and everybody else turned to look at Ariel. André, who was sitting in the seat in front of Ariel with Sarah, snorted.

      “Shoot.”

      “What’s everybody’s favorite color?” Ariel spoke into his fist, pretending it was a microphone. Cal answered first.

      “Yellow.”

      “Green,” Char answered with a smile at the goofy kid. 

      “Orange,” André announced proudly.

      Jeremiah shrugged. “Neon green and blue, I guess.” André slapped him over the head.

      “You can’t pick two, dumbo!”

     Jeremiah stuck his tongue out. “I just did, dumbass.” 

      “Jeremiah…André…” Ariel pouted, frowning. They sighed and stopped fighting, turning back toward the group. 

      “Black.” Sarah, ignoring the two rowdy boys, answered. 

      Michael pointed to Ariel’s gray sweater. 

      “Gray?” Ariel asked. Michael nodded. 

      Ariel grinned. “Mine is red and blue!” He paused, then slowly turned to Vincent surprisingly enough.

      “What’s yours?” 

      “None of your business, demon spawn,” Vincent grumbled. He turned to go back to brooding. Michael kicked him from under the seat. 

      “Will you chill with the violence?! Jesus Christ those little feet of yours hurt more than you’d think!” Vincent complained loudly. Michael stared at him flatly. “Fine. My favorite color is purple.” He complied grumpily. Michael nodded approvingly and turned back to the others. After seeing even Michael, who tended to be passive, kick the creepiest man here in the face, the others visibly felt more comfortable. 

      “Alright, favorite animal?” Ariel asked next.

      “Dog,” Char said.

      “Zebra,” Cal responded, looking a little embarrassed.

      “Zebra? That’s—oh, I shouldn’t be talking. My favorite is a slug.” Sarah said, sighing. 

      André cackled. “Parrots!” 

     Jeremiah raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm, but miraculously didn’t make a snarky comment. “Stegosaurus.” 

     “Didn’t take you for a dinosaur geek.” André teased.

     “Well I didn’t take you for a parrot lover.” Jeremiah retorted lamely. André rolled his eyes.

     “Foxes are the best obviously!” Ariel cheered. He pulled out his favorite stuffed animal, a fox named Freddie, and patted him lovingly. A tiny smile managed to creep its way up onto Michael’s face at the wholesome sight. 

     “Sharks,” Vincent replied with a manic grin. His smile reminded Michael of a shark, and he could see why they were Vincent’s favorite animal. 

     “Final question,” Ariel began dramatically, leaning extra close to his hand microphone. “What is your favorite smell and sound?” He questioned. Sarah giggled and answered first.

     “I like the smell of my moms cooking.” Everybody besides Vincent smiled and laughed at the sappy but cute answer. 

     “And I love the sound of—.” She finished with an averted expression. Vincent cackled and grinned.

     “That’s it! You're my second favorite!” Sarah raised an eyebrow. Vincent shrugged. “Unfortunately you have yet to hold Mason at gunpoint, so Michael’s still first. You’ll get there.” 

     Quick to stop the confusing conversation, Cal butted in. “My favorite smell is the smell of cookies, and my favorite sound is rain.” 

     “I love the smell of dryer sheets, and the sound of glass cracking. I don’t know why glass breaking is my favorite sound, it’s just kinda methodical and soothing in a way.” Char said, shrugging.

     “The sound of food cooking and the smell of food,” André said dreamily, his mouth watering. Jeremiah groaned.

     “Shut up, you hog,” Jeremiah said. André batted his eyelashes innocently.

     “Your best friend is a hog. What does that say about you?” André pointed out. Jeremiah gagged.

     “God, I have horrible taste in friends. I like the sound of game music and the smell of permanent markers.” Ariel grinned and high-fived Jeremiah, suddenly best friends with him again. 

     “Ditto, permanent markers smell amazing. My favorite sound is the quiet, undisturbed night.” 

     Vincent spoke up next. “The smell of smoke and the sound of breathing.” André snorted.

     “Breathing? What’re you, a creep?” Vincent shrugged, not bothering to answer. Michael frowned, inspecting Vincent’s face. 

     Michael watched the scene quietly. He couldn’t manage a smile. His favorite animal was a black cat, like his stuffed animal. His favorite smell was that of flowers. His favorite sound was TV static. There was nothing to point to, nothing to gesture for. He curled up on the seat, pulling his legs close to his chest.

     Michael wished he could speak. 

-

     They were here. Michael peered out the window to his left, inspecting the elementary school curiously. The one story building was made of a worn red brick with glass windows dotted all around, the sheer image of a cliche elementary school. Michael sighed. He didn’t want to go in. People. So many people. All that noise. Michael grimaced. If only he could just make them all shut up. The gun did work at shutting up Mason…Michael shook his head. The doctor would get mad, and he wasn’t sure how his friends would react, though to be fair he was pretty sure Vincent would only like him more. He ultimately deemed it too much of a hassle. 

      Shoving his fears and thoughts into a corner, Michael slowly got up and followed the others out of the bus reluctantly. Cal slapped him on the back, making him flinch in surprise. 

      “Cheer up, mate! Strewth, you’ve been brooding almost as much as Mr. Child Hazard over there.” Cal commented, gesturing over to Vincent. Michael sighed and propped his mouth up in a smile for her. Cal shook her head, but didn’t comment further. 

      Dr. Fitzgerald lined them up carefully and told them to stay put while he talked with the staff. 

      “Idiots. Their security system is complete shit. The technology…” Mason rambled, scaring Michael. He hadn’t noticed him there. Vincent, who was conveniently on the other side of Michael, turned him away from the mumbling Mason. 

      “Don’t bother trying to listen to that mutt’s muttering. He’s a technology geek and a watch geek. Doesn’t make any sense, one being vintage and the other the opposite.” Vincent frowned. 

      “I can hear you V. I refuse to let you talk down the wonders of technology and watches as if they are opposites!” Mason complained, surprisingly passionate. Vincent shook his head. Michael ignored the two of them, too tired for their antics. Some days felt almost normal, but today the fact that he was well and truly dead weighed down on him. Not exactly self pity or sadness, just exhaustion. Sometimes he wondered how long he would be able to continue on like this. Trying to avoid the thought, Michael turned his attention back to the present. 

       Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized the group was already halfway in the building and rushed to catch up. Jeremiah held the door open for him, smiling smugly.

      “I bet André you’d linger.” He explained, chuckling. Michael offered him a slight smile before heading on in. Michael stared at the room lazily, taking in the features. It had brown painted walls and black carpet. I'm tired. He didn’t have to sleep now that he was dead, but he was rather tired. Scraping together his energy, he followed the rest of the line from the back. 

      They passed classrooms where kids Michael’s age participated in summer classes. Kids complained to their friends about class, finding laughter and joy in the comradery of surviving learning. Some classes were filled with happy kids, enjoying a free moment of playing with friends, then somehow getting hurt and arguing. Michael dragged his fingers wistfully across the window of one class in particular. In the class, a young kid was talking to the class beside his family. The mother held his hand, the father ruffled his hair lovingly, and the older brother annoyed the boy playfully. The young kid clutched his mother’s hand tightly, secretly enjoying the loving gesture. His father was met with complaints at the embarrassing show of affection as the kid chided him. The brother and the young kid argued and fought, and the teacher struggled to bring the situation back under control. Kids laughed at the ruckus, their giggles just barely filing through the door, making it sound heartbreakingly distant to Michael.

       “…!”

       “…chael!”

       “Michael! For the last time, come on!” Michael stood there for a second, the words taking seconds too long for Michael to process. When Michael caught up with the moment, he turned to find himself abandoned, only Cal shouting for him. He wandered back over to them, making his way over to Vincent—his partner—specifically.

      Soon, they arrived at the hall where they would read to classes, and the doctor began to pair them up. 

      “Alright. Vincent and Michael, class 218, Sarah and Jeremiah, class 201, Char and Ariel class 211, Cal and Mason in class 217, and André in class 209. When you get in there, tell the teacher what you're there to do, and she will set you up at the front. The partner I stated second will watch while the first will read. And don’t misbehave.” He finished, glaring at the innocently smiling Vincent. Vincent ignored the accusatory look and turned to Michael. He held out his elbow and grinned manically. 

      “Shall we?” Michael internally cringed at the surprisingly friendly gesture, which only looked scary on Vincent. Still, he looped his arm through Vincent’s and followed him down the hallway toward their class. 

      Eventually the class labeled 218 was found, and they knocked, unlooping their arms. It had been a little awkward anyway with their large height difference, Michael being a short eight year old and Vincent being a tall and lanky adult. A brunette with a large figure answered. She was taller and bigger than Vincent’s impressive height. Michael was unsurprised to feel his acidic anxiety bubble up and his nervous itch crawl inside his skin. He already disliked this. 

      “Well hello!” The teacher boomed, beaming down at the pair. Michael and Vincent glanced at each other and then back at the teacher. The feeling is mutual. She rambled loudly on and on about how she had been telling her students about today and eagerly shoved them to the front of class. A small stool was the only seating, and Michael quickly snatched the glorious opportunity to rest. Vincent glared at him.

      “Pretty sure that stool was meant for the reader.”

      “…”

      “Right.” Vincent sighed, giving up. The children, some happy and some uncaring, were herded onto the carpet in front of them. The teacher clapped.

      “Alright class! Today our friends here will be reading to you “Jacky goes to Church” okay class?” The teacher cooed.

      “Yes Mrs. Myers.” The class responded in broken unison. They did not sound very excited. Vincent gave a final check on Michael, glancing back at him, before starting to turn back to the class. He did a double take.

      “Michael, are your roots turning blond?” Michael blinked. “Hell, they are turning blond!” Michael blinked again, confused. Vincent rolled his eyes. “Well? Go look in the bathroom mirror Mike!” Michael frowned. Don’t call me that…Terry said that’s… Michael didn’t say anything. Correcting the nickname wasn’t worth the pain of memories. I’ll just fix it later. He complied, heading over to the bathroom in the room. At least he didn’t have to go to the bathroom anymore, elementary class bathrooms were horrible. Peering into the mirror, he flattened his hair down to see what Vincent was talking about. Pitch black, silky hair covered most of his head, but at roots blond hair grew. It looked almost like somebody had splashed some bleach on Michael’s head. There was no ombré, it was like the blond was some kind of parasite slowly taking over Michael’s hair. That probably shouldn’t be possible. Even so, Michael didn’t bother thinking further. He was a dead kid still walking, so he couldn’t say anything. Still, it was…strange. 

       Michael was happy he didn’t dwell in the bathroom. Vincent was leaning down, his scary smile frightening the kids as he told the story in an eerie voice. Michael began to raise his fist, but ultimately decided against punching Vincent this time, the kids being there and all. He came up to Vincent and tapped him on the shoulder. 

       “Jack never-what? What is it?” Vincent demanded, frowning. Michael made an “X” with his bandaged fingers. “Hey, I’m definitely not doing anything hazardous or dangerous-Mason! Dammit Michael! Now Mason’s yelling at me…I didn’t do anything!” Vincent pleaded. Michael frowned as best he could and raised and cocked his head to the side. Vincent sighed. “Mason insisted on giving me an earpiece to keep me on my rocker. Don’t ask me where he got it, he’s always somehow getting his hands on stupid technological shit. Madness.” Michael was now aware of just how much of a geek Vincent's weird best friend was. Why was I afraid of him again? 

-

      The rest of the session went smoothly besides the occasional evil sounding laugh from Vincent…and when he threatened a girl’s death when she interrupted him. For the most part, it was normal.

      “Nobody’s done yet, I guess we’re early,” Vincent said, looking around the empty hallway. Michael nodded distractedly, staring into a nearby classroom where two sisters were bickering. “Um, earth to Michael?” Michael didn’t respond. Vincent followed his gaze, looking into the classroom questioningly. “Oh.” He said, seeing Michael’s longing gaze and the two siblings. “Do you want a sibling?” Michael didn’t move. Terry kept popping up in his mind, and he wanted so badly to forget. He wanted it. A taut rope…Michael stood there, dazed. He didn’t notice when he started crying. Vincent dragged him over to the wall and sat them down on the floor. Michael numbly let him, still staring at the door. 

       “I had a brother once. And a sister too, or I guess a brother as well now. Ellie, you met him. But anyway, my brother was an interesting case. He had black hair and pale skin like you and me, actually exactly like you strangely enough, but he had green eyes. He was technically my half brother with a different mother, but he was still every bit my brother. He joined us when he was six, disowned by his two mothers and reluctantly taken in, but he was a genius. I always knew he’d go far, and I could only wonder how far I’d be left in the dust.” He sighed. “Then our family fell into ruin. Our parents became broke, Ellie’s forever hopping from job to minimum wage job until they find out who’s son he is, and dad sold me off to this old shitty franchise because he “knew a doctor” there. Probably just because I was useless. At least Ellie could get a job, even if he couldn’t keep it. That damn Dr. Fitzgerald is the nephew of the man my dad knew. For god’s sake we were childhood friends! But I never got back my brother. Everytime I wake up I wish for the reassuring sound of him breathing.” Vincent said, his voice distant and sad. 

      That’s why his favorite sound is breathing. That was the first thing he realized. The next was far more shocking. His brother sounds and looks exactly like my father. Michael’s father had his same black—not so black now—hair, the pale skin, the green eyes Vincent had described, and even the smarts. Vincent began to get up and mumbled something about annoying him, but Michael caught his arm. He turned, confused. 

      “What?” He asked. “Oh look who I’m talking to, dammit, let me get a pen.”

      In a flash, Vincent was back with paper and a pen. Michael snatched it vigorously and scribbled two words. 

     We’re related.

     Michael didn’t actually know whether they were related or not, but it was simple and got the point across.

     “Excuse me, what?!” Vincent shouted, jumping to his feet and staring wide-eyed at the calm, still seated Michael. 

     All the doors and Char and Ariel, who were just returning, turned to witness the scene. Michael saw his friends peeping out the doors in confusion and waved. Confused, they waved back. Finally, Dr. Fitzgerald, who had been supervising the one solo kid, André, stormed down the hallway. Michael nervously pressed himself up against the wall and tried to look as small as possible. He snatched the paper too and shoved it into his pocket.

       “Mr. Harrison,” My last name. “You are being very disrespectful in a learning environment. You are an adult, and I expect you to act like one.” 

       Vincent snorted and rolled his eyes. “You sure as hell don’t treat me like one, friend.” He said, grinning. Him actually trying to be scary was rather terrifying. Michael wanted to stop him, but fear held him hostage. Rage twists the doctor’s face, causing Vincent to only smirk further. “Of course, it’s not like you can get rid of me. Dearest daddy would just loathe to hear your petty temper tantrum is the reason my dad exposes your franchise’s little secrets.” Vincent said calmly, pretending to examine his fingernails just to spite him. Dr. Fitzgerald glared at him, jaw clenched. 

     “And you're arrogant enough to think that your father would care enough about you to do such a thing? He has enough enemies as it is, he’s not going to risk another over his mistake of a son. He was the one to discard you in the beginning anyway. But you're an adult, and maybe it’s time for you to be…cut off.” Dr. Fitzgerald snapped, declaring it as if he had won the argument. 

      Michael had an idea. He knew how to win, how to turn this situation around and save Vincent from being sent off. 

      If only he could have said it.

-

     Unsurprisingly, the ride back was quiet. Vincent was sent to the back of the bus to sit alone, and everybody was placed in different directions, leaving only their seating partner to talk to. Ariel sat quietly to Michael’s right, twiddling his fingers. Sky blue eyes kept flickering restlessly towards Michael’s pale blue, the temptation to speak shining clearly through. Michael was fine with him talking, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to tell Ariel, who was staying quiet in an attempt to be polite. Michael procrastinated for another minute before Ariel’s need became far too painfully obvious. He turned to the young boy and a smile just barely tugged his lips up. It was rather sloppy and stiff, but it did the job. Like a suddenly popped balloon, Ariel blurted.

       “What happened? Why did Vincent shout? That was like, the most awesome showdown I’ve ever seen! Does Vincent really have to go now? I kinda started to feel like he wasn’t so bad, but I guess…” Ariel trailed off when he finally ran out of air. Michael sighed quietly, unable to stop it even though he didn’t wish to discourage the boy. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. Ariel peered over his shoulder curiously and gasped. 

       “You and Vincent are related?! And he didn’t know? That’s why he shouted…” Ariel realized, the pieces clicking together before him. Michael nodded softly, staring vacantly at the seat in front of him. He didn’t really know what to feel about it. A lot of strange stuff he had seen in the abandoned office’s files and Firmin HQ made sense now. Slow as it was, he was starting to process everything. He didn’t care how slow he was, he just needed to understand. All those foreign concepts, such as his father being a kid, suddenly seemed very real. It was all in the past, and Michael was left to try and scrape together the pieces. Frustration clawed at Michael’s mind. Frustration at all the mysteries, Vincent suddenly being threatened, and at the ever present Caleb problem. 

        Seeing his eyes go distant, Ariel tries to reel him back into the present. “At least you have another family member now, presumably an Uncle!” Michael nodded numbly. “I have an uncle, he’s super cool. He keeps me company whenever he’s over since I don’t have a sibling yet. My mom’s pregnant though, so hopefully they’ll be born when I get back.” Ariel rambled enthusiastically, no longer noticing Michael’s constant awkward silence. Michael didn’t mind. It was a good distraction, learning about friends. “My moms pretty cool, but my dads even better—don’t tell her I said that. I don’t get to see him too much and he’s always tired but we always do super fun stuff together. Mom just tells me to go outside and play so I don’t ruin the Perfect House, but then she just scolds me for running through the Perfect Yard.” Ariel groaned at the thought, though the effect was diminished by his slightly wistful tone. “She does let me bake with her sometimes though, and I love cooking with her. Following her strict rules isn’t really hard, the one problem is that she just doesn’t believe me. Every night in bed this monster would come and haunt me until it had had its fun!” Ariel exclaimed, horror dawning upon his face. He sagged. “Of course Mom wouldn’t believe me about the scary monster. She says I’m being a dumb, silly kid.” Ariel pouts, but Michael notices goosebumps still lingering from when he mentioned the monster. Even if he’s wrong, it definitely still gave him a serious scare. Michael could see despite the way Ariel played it off, this was a traumatic affair. 

      For a breath, Michael sat there awkwardly. Then he hugged Ariel. Sometime during the hug Ariel started crying, but that was okay with Michael even if Ariel got his bandages wet. Bandages could be replaced. Ariel clutched the back of Michael’s shirt and hugged him for almost the rest of the bus ride.

      When Ariel finally let go, he leaned back and sniffled, wiping his eyes dry and rubbed his freckled cheeks of wetness. Between sniffling and calming his wobbling chin, he spoke.

      “You feel really hollow.” For the first time in a long while, Michael laughed.

Recommended Topic: [Karaoke for One] 

Confirmed

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• André   -

    The day after everything happened was a very quiet one. Even André himself, who was always the annoying guy who didn’t know when to shut up, didn’t speak. Vincent was still there, but he was separated from everybody except for his roommate Michael, and Dr. Fitzgerald was planning to move him out. Too bad, that guy was actually kinda fun, if hazardous. Even the doctor felt awkward on such a quiet day. So awkward, he actually offered something later that same day.

      Dr. Fitzgerald cleared his throat, the sound awkward in the thick silence. “Hello everyone. After everything that…happened, I thought it might be a good idea to reward you guy’s good behavior! Unfortunately, um, only three spots are available.” That doesn’t sound like a very good reward to me if there’s only three spots. Shoving down the bursting urge to retort, he listened on. “So four of you will have to volunteer to abstain. Think of it as helping out a friend!” André rolled his eyes, for he knew this was Dr. Fitzgerald’s of turning this into one of the “exercises” that were meant to “help them” and make them into obedient little normal children. Honestly they weren’t doing a very good job. 

      Despite André internal judgment, hope fluttered into his heart at the thought of escaping this hellscape and having fun for a while. Pranks with Ariel and AJ could only go so far, and while everybody else was fun to chat with, nothing was there to do. Opportunity had arisen, and god be damned if André wasn’t going to try and snatch it. Mason, basically Vincent’s best friend and supervisor, obviously raised his hand first. André held his breath. Michael gently raised his hand next. Or rather, his bandaged hand. André didn’t mind the boy’s eccentricities though, focused on the hard to read yet kind face he was giving him. André smiled back, grateful. Two more to go…don’t give in yet, AJ! Blackish blue eyes flickered back and forth at the remaining kids, and André hoped that wasn’t AJ’s guilty look he was seeing. Too far to elbow him, André instead shot him a death glare. For a miserable breath, he watched AJ’s hand twitch. 

     Michael, with his horrifyingly accurate ability to understand the situation, went over to Cal and Char. Somehow with a bit of pointing and inferring, they understood what was going on. Char easily lifted her hand and volunteered, but Cal was the tricky one. Her stern face twisted in thought, looking between André, Jeremiah and Ariel. Predatory, those eyes were. André shivered. Cal bit a protest back at Michael and pointed at Ariel. Not Ariel dammit! Ariel saw this and jolted, almost instinctively raising his hand no doubt. Cal was a rather intimidating figure. Michael was obviously not intimidated though, because he was not having it, because he pulled out the big guns. 

       Michael wandered unassumingly over to Ariel. André followed him tensely. Ariel’s sky blue eyes and freckles were dark and sad as he slowly began to raise his hand. But Michael stopped it before it could go high enough for Dr. Fitzgerald—who was currently talking with the staff—to notice. Michael looked at him calmly and used his ultimate superpower, making people say everything. One time André too had been sad and right when AJ had come to comfort him, Michael had guided him out and then used it on him. He swore it was supernatural. Michael didn’t even say a word, and then suddenly you were talking. 

       Ariel suddenly began spilling his guts, gushing out everything in a blur of words only Michael was close enough to hear. Michael hugged him, his height even shorter than that of Ariel’s. André wondered how Michael was an eight year old. Tears welled in the sensitive boy’s eyes, and André watched in awe as the magic worked itself. Cal, who had a huge soft spot for Ariel and was secretly a big softie, raised her hand while complaining a little too loudly to Char. Her complaints sounded a little too much like doting on her friends, so it wasn’t very convincing. Char just smiled and listened, and André was elated and shocked to see Michael wink at him. So he isn’t a statue! 

-

     AJ rushed up to him with Ariel. “We’re here!” Ariel cheered with them. Dr. Fitzgerald had explained that they were free to surf to the city and do whatever they wanted as long as they followed a budget. Of course, André knew how to get a whole lot more for a whole lot less. 

     André grinned at the two and held up a twenty he had already managed to snatch before the other two had even got off the bus. “I know! They are such easy marks here.” AJ smirked. Ariel gasped.

     “André! You stole!” Ariel exclaimed, trying to yank the money out of his hands. André held it up out of Ariel’s reach. Like a frustrated little chihuahua, Ariel yelped and jumped after it, swiping his hand around. Suddenly André felt both the paper being lifted out of his hands and the sting of betrayal. AJ rolled his eyes and handed back the money.

     “I’m just joking André, of course stealing is okay. Ariel, you see, stealing is like pranks. Except you just don’t get caught, and the other person doesn’t like it very much.” AJ explained in that perfectly arrogant grown-up voice of his as they began walking. 

     Ariel frowned. “So it’s not a prank?”

     “It’s an even better form of prank.”

     “Yay!” Ariel squealed and followed the other two into the city. 

     The city was bright in the light of the sunny day. The buildings were tall and covered with colorful billboards and banners, the reflective walls hidden underneath. Ariel pointed to things and Jeremiah would explain while André secretly listened in because he still didn’t really know what everything was, despite having mastered English. He even saw something in Portuguese at a local cafe, so he insisted they go in. Much to his secret chagrin, they did not speak the language, it was just the name of their business. Ariel consoled him, and AJ mocked him. Maybe that made him a little sad. He let it go. A long time of wandering and browsing happened before they eventually decided to do something.

     “Well, our options are bowling, arcade, laser tag, archery range, or karaoke.” Jeremiah listed, spinning around to read all the boards and banners. Ooh, I’m definitely going for the arcade or laser tag. Jeremiah inspected the list.

     “Unless Ariel particularly enjoys bowling or archery, I’m pretty sure it’s easy to say those two are off the choices.” Ariel nodded, squeezing his little red and brown fox friend with excitement. André smiled and brushed his blond-brown hair out of his eyes. 

     “My vote’s on arcade or laser tag, personally,” André said, crossing his hands behind his head. Jeremiah grinned.

     “Laser tag would be fun, but I’m pretty sure I’d kill you.”

     “No way!”

     “Yes, way.”

     “No

    “Yes, and I’ll spare you your pride by saying arcade.” AJ declared smugly, crossing his arms. 

    “Whatever you say,” André mumbled. “Coward.”

    AJ sent him a glare but excitement quickly took over his face, tugging a smile on. Anticipation and happiness may or may not have shaken the serious face off of André too. 

    AJ clapped. “Alright then, I think we’re all up for the arcade then, right Ariel?” André faced Ariel. Ariel was staring off dreamily at the karaoke sign.

    “Ariel?”

    “Oh! Sorry what?”

    “We’re going to the arcade!”

    “But I…”

    “Shit! If we don’t go now we’re gonna miss it!” André shouted, pointing to the poster. “It’s gonna close!” AJ's eyes widened into saucers and he waved at Ariel.

    “Come on, talk while we’re playing! We have got to go!” André nodded, also waving on Ariel. Ariel hesitated, then stopped.

    “I…no,” Ariel said, a hardness entering his voice. They both stopped and turned.

    “What?” They demanded simultaneously. 

    “No,” Ariel whispered stubbornly, clutching his stuffed animal. André felt an immediate, irrational frustration strike.

    “Fine! Then go, we’re going to the arcade without you!” André snapped back, snagging AJ’s hand and pulling them along. They didn’t need Ariel if he wanted to go off and do something else. Bitterness consumed his heart. 

• Ariel   -

     Ariel stomped off to karaoke feeling upset. His white uniform sneakers thumped against the pavement to the beat of his angry heart. Angry at them for not even asking him what he wanted. Sure, maybe he could have spoken up better, but André and Jeremiah had been rude by just ignoring him and going to the arcade anyway. Bitterness crashed against him in waves of fire as angry thoughts about everything bad about them, feeding the fire. Jeremiah was just a stupid know it all, always acting smug. André was arrogant and inconsiderate. And you overreact. You’re too sensitive, His thoughts whispered to him. His frustrated footsteps began to slow down a bit.

     Slowly his thoughts took on a new light as what he had also done wrong began to appear again. I overreacted. Yes, a reaction had for sure been warranted, but maybe not that big of a reaction. André and Jeremiah had still been rude and mean, but Ariel realized it was, to some degree, both of their faults. The anger was gone now, he just felt sad.

      Ariel’s steps had long since turned slow and unsure by the time he reached the karaoke building. His numbly reached for the door and pulled it open, ignoring the looks he got from parents wondering what a lone child was doing out here. Ariel didn’t spare a thought for them as he sullenly trudged into the building. The interior was all cool and retro, black tile floor speckled with white triangles. Walls had bright neon paint with polygraphic designs plastered onto it, making for an inviting, dark yet bright interior. None of the attractive features of the room excited or cheered Ariel up. He placed his hand onto the tall desk, his eyes just barely able to see over it at the black haired person. The desk attendant turned to the solitary kid in confusion, concern furrowing their eyebrows. 

      “What is a little kid doing here all alone? Are you lost?” The woman asked, dark brown eyes cast downward to see the short Ariel. Ariel kept a straight face

      “I’m here for karaoke.”

      “But your…”

      “Karaoke for one,” Ariel said, slamming the conversation closed with his final tone. The desk attendant chose to not argue and scrambled about to get the wristband. 

      “Actually, make that three.” A familiar voice called out. A pale hand ruffled Ariel’s hair and Jeremiah smiled down at him as he came up next to him. André skidded right up next to Ariel too, a hand on his hip and a grin on his face. The desk attendant, even more confused, quickly got them their wristbands and out of her sight as soon as possible. Ariel giggled when she shut the door loudly. André and Jeremiah shared a guilty look before bowing their heads.

     “Sorry Ariel. We didn’t even stop to consider what you wanted to do. And when we went to the arcade…we got lonely pretty fast, so we decided to come back and apologize.” Jeremiah said, scratching the back of his head. 

      André nodded. “And because of our ultimate lame behavior, we decided we’re only going to do karaoke, and it’s gonna be the most awesome karaoke experience you’ve ever had!” André cheered and pumped his fist in the air. Ariel smiled shyly, tucking a piece of brown hair behind his ear nervously as they walked to the room. 

      “Actually…I’ve never done karaoke, I just wanted to try it.” He explained. André gasped, and Jeremiah mimicked fainting. Ariel laughed and sat down on the couch, excitement brimming in his gut. Jeremiah snatched the tablet and waved Ariel over. 

      “You haven’t tried the karaoke of a dying business in a country where it isn’t popular?! Imagine.” André joked, rolling his eyes. 

      Jeremiah chuckled and turned to Ariel.

      “Whad’ya want first?” 

      Ariel grinned. He hadn’t expected to try it ever, but he still knew exactly what song he would sing first.

      “I want–“

End Report?

Concluded.

Recommended Topic: [Too Much, Too Little]

Confirmed 

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• Michael   -

Michael sat quietly as Cal rambled on, half hearted complaints pouring from her mouth thoughtlessly.

“I should have gone! Unlike those three, I know everything in the area. The airport, the hotel, the restaurants, the food trucks, the cafes, the bowling lane, the good arcade, the bad arcade, the movie theater, the karaoke place, the archery…”

 “Alright I’ve let this go on long enough Cal. We get it. You totally regret letting them go instead.” Sarcasm dripped from Char’s voice as she spoke, waving her hand dismissively and rolling her eyes. 

 “Don’t sarcasm me!” Cal retorted, crossing her arms. Michael stifled a sigh as he sat quietly between the two, sitting on his comfy bed while the other two stood bickering. He purposefully fell on his side, turning his vision sideways as he lay in a fetal position on the sheets. The aforementioned girls turned to him, their senseless banter finally finished. After Char got the last laugh in, of course.

 Char plopped down on the bed next to Michael, swinging her legs. Michael’s eyes flicked to her, watching as her natural beauty mark stretched up as she smiled. Cal stuck her tongue out and left the room, calling out that she was getting some food.

 Michael pushed himself up back into a sitting position, hugging his knees tight to his chest. Char twirled around with her hair as she suddenly began talking to fill the void of sound.

 “Do you ever miss your family here?” Michael tilted his head, thinking carefully. His father was one he didn’t miss. He didn’t miss the house either, ever since Terry. 

 Like he had listed, father was the con and Mama was the pro. Mixed feelings surrounded coming home, but ever since dying they felt so distant. Even having friends, something he hadn’t really had much of before, was different. He didn’t feel superior, just different. Strange. The odd one out. He shook his head. I mostly just tag along, anyway.

 “Hm. I’m not really sure how I feel. My dad—his name’s Heinrick—always tried to make me something I’m not. He wants that perfect son playing baseball with his dad in the backyard, and I just can’t give him it.” Char said, staring at her hands. “He does all these things with me and constantly asks me if I want to hang out, and it makes me exhausted.” Michael frowned. That sounds like all I’ve ever wanted.

• Char   -

      As unreadable as Michael’s face could be, Char could tell he was confused. She sighed.

     “I know. It sounds great, doesn’t it?” Michael nodded. “It’s not all good though. It’s like…having too much chocolate. If you have too much chocolate, you get sick. If you have none, all you want is chocolate. Does that make sense?” She asked, cringing at the analogy. Michael paused for a second and Char waited. Then he nodded solemnly, the confusion gone from his expression, understanding having replaced it.

    Char sighed, then shook her head. “Enough about me, what about you? Do you get an overwhelming amount of attention from your dad?” Char said, phrasing the question so Michael could nod or shake his head. Michael shook his head, his face unreadable. Char felt sad for him, unable to understand her trying so hard. 

      “What about your mom? Does she?”

      Nod. Char felt a little less bad at hearing at least one parent was nice.

      “Any siblings?” Michael hesitated, confusing Char. It was a yes or no question after all. Michael moved his hand in a slicing motion across his bandaged neck. Killed.

      “They died?” Nod, then a gesture of his hands around his neck. Killed…themself? 

     Char immediately apologized for asking and fumbled around trying to comfort him. Her hands kept moving back and forth between the urge to physically comfort him and the knowledge that Michael didn’t always like that. She quickly realized he felt very uncomfortable with touch currently, so she just sat awkwardly with her hands in her lap, watching Michael with concern. His expression was empty. 

      “Let’s, erm…talk about something else. Sarah’s family sounds nice?” Michael pepped up and nodded curtly as if nothing had happened. Strange. 

      “You know, at first when they came today, I was jealous. I actually followed them and all, even eavesdropped. Yes, I’m that type of jealous girl. Anywho, when I was listening to the parents talk to the doctor, I overheard something I shouldn’t have, but it made me no longer feel jealous.” Char said remorsefully, then continued in a hushed voice. “She has a disease. Cystic-something. They think she’ll die soon. I know she coughs sometimes..but I never…” She took a deep breath. “I was ashamed and ran away.” Michael blinked in his form of shock. Char scratched her head embarrassedly. “I know everybody kinda thinks of me as the mature one, but I have my moments.” Michael nodded and gave her a little smile to reassure her. 

       “DON’T TOUCH MY GODDAMN YOGURT, YOU SON OF A-“ A familiar feeling swept over Char, and she smiled. Classic Cal.

       She turned to Michael and hopped off the bed. “I should probably go, thanks for the talk.” She gave him a final wink in her best Cal impression and hurried over to the kitchen. 

       “Cal, what’s going on and why are you yelling about your ‘goddamn yogurt’?” Char began, turning the corner to witness an absolute disaster. Purple, blueberry yogurt was splattered all across the pristine white tile and the two culprits, Vincent and Cal, stood bickering in the midst. A groan surfaced, and she massaged her temples in exasperation. Truly though, she enjoyed the hassle. 

     Cal, seizing the opportunity to be defended, pleaded her case to Char. “I was just going to get the yogurt I had picked out earlier,” Who picks out their yogurt an hour before they eat it? Char shook her head. Cal, that’s who. “When I saw this shithead grab it for himself! It was my yogurt!” She complained, glaring at Vincent. 

     Vincent mock gasped. “Oh no, I stole your yogurt! Does that warrant tearing it open and getting yogurt all over my favorite tie? I think not!” He declared, crossing his arms. Char sighed. 

     “You guys, I think-“ Char stopped as Michael came into the room, waving his arm.

     “What?” Cal demanded, waving her arms exaggeratedly at the crime scene. “We’re kinda in the middle of something.” Michael didn’t bother to answer, pointing vigorously down the hall and then running off. Everybody looked at Char, and she just shrugged. They stood there for a second before Cal dashed off. Char sent her a look.

     “Well, what’re you waiting for? You saw the man, let’s move!” Cal exclaimed, shooting back off down the hall. 

     “Guess what?!” A familiar Brazilian accent shouted. “WERE BACK, BABY!!” Now three voices shouted, all in unison. Char laughed. 

     I hope this never ends.

• Caleb    -

     Caleb sat silently with his legs folded underneath him by the door. He could hear sounds. The happy chattering of three boys. But it was only one Caleb was focused on. He couldn’t forget him. Couldn’t forgive him. He had begun his revenge before being moved here, but now this opportunity had fallen from the heavens, and he would snatch it. For Kaila’s sake, I need this to end.