Aberration. - Chapter 5 - Paint_Ghoul - Spooky Month (Short Films (2024)

Chapter Text

Streber jittered and jerked as he sat in his seat, desperately trying to get the crimson substance off of his mouth as he drove, phone on his shoulder and prosthetic arm intact. It had nearly fallen off during the attack, so he was lucky enough to have it in one piece. Even if it now had some red smears on it. He was an awful sight to see frankly, his mouth and fangs dripping with thick splotches of blood, his hair a matted leaf fluttered mess, and his eyes wild and dark, with an ember of humanity only sparked for the fear he had deep inside. He adjusted his shoulder uncomfortably, trying for the third time to call Robbie, but only being met with his cheery voicemail. He shakily put the phone down, placing it in the cupholder, not even bothering to hang up. He couldn’t stop shaking. He’d really lost Robbie. Just like that.

He felt a burning sensation ignite in his heart. Anger. Pure anger that he’d let this happen. Anger that he didn’t call off the meeting, anger that he didn’t answer Robbies persistent calls during his awful attack, and anger that he’d broken the promise he’d kept with Radford years prior. Back when he first took care of Robert, and properly met him for the first time. Babysitting him, even if he was a bit too old for it.

“ Promise me that you’ll keep him safe,” He remembered Radford saying,

“ That he’ll be ok in your hands.”

He remembered himself laughing,
“ It’s only for a night, Radford!”

“Still.”

He’d let out a defeated sigh, with a smile. “He’ll be just fine.”

He’d said.

“I promise that he’ll be safe.”

Now, 4 years later, he’d broken that promise. Into a million pieces.

He had no idea where Robbie was, or who he was with, or what even happened–

For all he would know Robbie could be dead.

He felt his heart speed up.

And his blood would be on his hands.

He felt his breath begin to heighten, his lungs beating to the cries of his heart.

He couldn’t think of that right now, shouldn’t.

He was going to find him, no matter what.

Suddenly, buzzing rattled under his one good hand. Frantically, he picked it up. He saw an unknown number on the newly cracked screen flash into his face. Though he knew better than to answer some stupid random number, something inside of him screamed for him to answer it. Impulsively, he did.

“Hello?” he heard Jack’s grainy voice ring out. Streber’s heart dropped.

“Is this Strebers number?”

“I…” He fumbled over his words.

“Yes. Yes it is. Just to confirm–I’m speaking to deputy Jack, correct?”

Jack paused. “ No longer deputy..unfortunately-” he mumbled. “But, yes.”

Streber shifted uncomfortably.

“Why’d you call?”

Jack made a disgruntled, “Mm.” sound on the other end. As if he was disappointed. Before saying, “I’m calling about Robert. “ he said flatly.

Streber felt his heart leap at the sound, “Is he alright–?”

Silence.

Dead, grainy silence.

Then he heard Jack sigh.

“I was hoping you’d tell me.”

Streber froze.

“...What?”

Jack cleared his throat, his “cop-tone” preparing itself.

“I was told that you were going to pick him up.”

“From..where?”

“ Jesus Christ– From my house!” Jack hissed. “Did you seriously never pick up?”

Streber furrowed his eyebrows, before quietly saying, “ No.”

A long huff came from Jack on the other end. He was pissed, clearly.

“So I was lied to, great. Well, let me tell you what happened, since clearly you have no idea. Last night, Mr. Lacosta called us, saying there had been an attempted murder and break in, while he was housesitting for you. He had multiple injuries, including a large gash on his calf, multiple cuts on his arm, and more. He said he’d managed to escape only due to the fact 27 year old Katie Croft, a neighbor nearby, had answered the door, sheltering him from the man outside. We’ve managed to identify the alleged break-in killer as 38 year old Pedro Caótico. Also known as “The Candy Dealer”, a street name for his drug cartel persona. We believe it was due to a co*ke induced rage, from the reported ‘strange color’ of his eyes. But we aren’t 100% sure. Deputy Azure is interviewing him as of now while I’m off duty.”

Streber’s breath hitched in his throat, a lump forming in the middle. His eyes became even wider than they already were. His palm felt clammy from how tightly he was holding the phone now.

“ Mr.Lacosta had requested to call Robert, and he answered–getting a ride here from a taxi, supposedly. Due to the fact you weren’t available. I offered for him to stay at my home, due to the fact his apartment, and room, was considered a crime scene, actively being searched. And a hotel seemed pretty awful to dump him in alone.. “

Streber felt his teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, the small taste of blood overlapping his tongue.

“So–..where is he now?”

Jack huffed.

“Again, he said you were going to pick him up. And I saw him get into someone's car.”

Streber nearly dropped the phone.

“ SO WHERE THE HELL IS HE–!?” Streber was on the brink of yelling, his nerves snapping into two, his jaw tightening into a scowl. He felt like he was about to lose his mind, his thoughts rounding around in circles of fear.

“And that's what we need to figure out. He said he was going to the hotel to pick up his stuff, so if you're nearby then I suggest stopping by.” Jack said calmly. “But, if he isn’t–then come over here. Either way really, you should come over here. Suffice to say I have a lot more questions for you, Streber.”

Streber bit back his tongue from saying more. He didn’t need a cop to be on his ass more than they already were.

“Alright.” He said bitterly.

Without a goodbye, Jack hung up.

Robert pulled into the driveway carefully, keeping his head ducked down underneath his hood, his hands pulled tightly around the wheel. The late morning sun dove into the overly shiny windows of the sleek black car. Coming from Rick, this car was a steal. Gleaming leather seats, freshly vacuumed floors, empty backseat, and a little pine tree air freshener hanging off the middle of the rear view mirror. He couldn’t have done all this, or maybe the pay was that good. Considering the apartments he was in now though, Robert doubted it.

The apartments were as narrow as a wire, and crammed in between two expensive other houses in the neighborhood. Sure, aesthetically, the apartment was pleasing. But the size made Robert recoil. At the most, a broke college student and a teacup dog could fit in those rooms. And judging from the cars crowded around the outside though..that wasn’t likely. Robert turned the keys out of the sleek vehicle and popped the rear seat door open smoothly. Much better than the creaky doors Streber’s had. He hesitantly reeled up the steep stairs of the apartment and creeped inside. The front desk was completely empty. Odd. He slowly put Rick's keys on the table and covered them with his hat, looking around a little. The tiny room had a large chandelier dangling above the entrance, the crystals soaking up the sun as they spun. There was a small carpet underneath it, basking in the reflections as it sat. It was a light cyan. His gut turned a little at the color. He took a deep breath, adjusting his hood closer to his eyes before quickly scampering off outside, to the large hotel in front.

The hotel, too, was empty. His footsteps echoed throughout the annoyingly crimson place, the clacks of his new-ish green converse following with. Why the hell was everyone gone? It was busy when he and Streber had arrived, but now? It was like a ghost town. And it wasn’t like it was some slow Monday or Tuesday– it was a Saturday morning for Christ's sake. As he reached the elevator though, he saw one person. It was a guy, about Ross’s height–maybe a little shorter, and probably in his early 20’s or so. He had a hotel uniform on, and looked beyond nervous. “ I should’ve just stayed working at that stupid grocery store..” he heard him shakily murmur, rubbing his forearms aggressively. Robert gave him a strange look. “You ok?” The guy jumped, his eyes bulging out. “I-i- uhm.” The hotel guy looked Robert up and down, the height difference clear between them. Robert shifted uncomfortably.

“... Are you going to hurt me?” The guy murmured, stepping back a little. Robert gave the guy a dumbfounded look. Hurt him? Did he really look that bad? Robert frowned a little. “No. I’m just–here to get my stuff.” He said sadly. The guy blinked a little, glancing specifically at Roberts waist. Probably checking to see if he had a belt of weapons. He let out a shaky “OoOohhhh..” And held his hand to his heart. “I uh–Sorry. We’ve just–had some complications, in the past.” There was a pause between the two. “Am I really that threatening looking?” Robert chuckled, half-way joking with him. The guy fumbled over his words. “wHAT? NO-nOOnonono..well. Uh.. kinda but–You seem like a nice guy..!” Jesus christ was this dude awkward! Robert quietly “uh-huhed” him before clicking the elevator door, avoiding his big eyed gaze.

Right before he got inside though–the guy joined him. Robert paused, staring. “Uh.” “Sorry but, I’m required to do this. Safety regulations..and stuff.” Robert didn’t buy that for one minute. When he and Streber had walked in, no one was there with them in the elevator. Robert gave him a strange look, before silently going in. He made sure to keep his distance, clicking the 7th floor before quickly retreating his hand back into his pockets. “What's your name?” the guy asked, staring directly at him. “...Why do you need to know that?” The guy shuffled his feet.

“Just–tryna’ be friendly.” He mumbled. Robert narrowed his eyes. No way in hell was he telling this guy his real name. Common or not, it still put him in danger. “Flynn.” He lied, offering his hand for a handshake. The guy grinned, offering his hand. “Call me Andy.” He tried to escape the guy's hand, but he didn’t let go. Though it wasn’t tight, his grip tugged on Robert’s fingers. Robert uppercut his palm, swiftly hiding his hand in his pocket. The guy looked a little stunned, yet gave a nervous smile. “So uh..why are you here? Fancy pit stop or something?” Robert shook his head. “Just lookin’ around. That's all.” The guy looked unsatisfied, but didn’t ask more about it. “..So..why are you dressed like that?” The guy mumbled, looking him up and down. Robert furrowed his eyebrows. “And why are you asking me so many questions? What next, you're gonna ask for my social security number-!?” The guy shrunk a little, backing up at Robert unknowingly raising his voice. Robert glared before the final ding of the level graced the silence. “Just–leave me alone. I’m getting my stuff and that's that.” He said sternly, swiftly stepping out of the elevator and closing the doors on the guy before he could even protest. What a creep.

Robert tugged all his clothes out of the dark wood drawers, shoving them back into his suit case where they belonged. The once off putting, lonely room now seemed like a prison cell after what he’d seen, locked inside a place with only bad memories. Even if he’d only been here a night, Streber had left, Ross was beyond just a little “hurt”, and this hotel had something up with it. The weird staff, matchy-matchy decor, the overly rich furniture..

Wait. He pressed his foot down against the carpet, a certain ruffle to it he recognized. He turned his heel, backing up just a little, and heard a familiar click follow with. In whatever building they went to, and whatever place they stayed for long..

He managed to rip open the carpet with a sharp stomp against the wood plank below, and saw it. Inside the empty space below, was a small, golden eye, staring right at him. He felt his heart sink. Eyes always followed along. Without a moment to lose, he grabbed a thick pillow off of his mattress and shoved it in the hole between the boards, snapping his head towards the bed-side lamp and clamoring at its shade. Whenever they had little checkpoints like this–there was always protection for it.

He ripped it off of the stand and threw it on the bed, digging in his suitcase and finding a bobby pin, shoving it in between the stitches of the front of the shade and tearing it all across the bottoms, a large rip following with as he dug it farther into the fabric-and felt it stop at something solid. He shook it. Nothing. Shook it again. Nothing. He batted his fist against the top of the shade and pushed his hand against the fabric, and it finally fell out. A miniscule, cassette tape-recorder plopped out onto the bed, with a large “ROOM: 702” title tapped onto the front of it. Robert saw that the tape was still running and quickly stopped it, his thumb pressing hard onto the button. He glanced at his phone charging on the nightstand, leaning over to see the time, “10:51am” flashed on its dull screen. sh*t.

Streber would be back any moment. With the unnerving realization that the cult had spread far beyond his little town, Robert zipped up he and Streber’s things and headed out the door. No way in hell was he going to explain why his lampshade was ripped open or the pillow crammed between his floorboards. And no way was he letting them stay here any longer. But, he heard something that made him pause at the handle. He heard two voices, presumably from across the hall, yelling at one another.

“¿En serio? ¿Lo que te impidió matarlo fue atragantarte con el aire-!? ”

(“Really? What stopped you from killing him was choking on air-!?”)

A woman's voice snapped, her patience seeming to be whittled down to none. Robert creaked the door open, just a little, pressing his back towards the wood. He clicked on the recorder in his hand.

“"No solo me 'ahogué con el aire', Ezmerelda, ¡alguien más estaba allí!"”

(“I didn’t just ‘choke on air’, Ezmerelda, someone else was there!”)

“Y, sin embargo, no los viste, Pedro. ”

(“And yet you didn’t see them, Pedro .”)

Robert felt his heart skip a beat. Pedro was dead silent.

"Maldita sea, Pedro. Esa familia no es nada difícil de matar, ya viste cómo murió Rose, ¡con el amuleto encima!"

("Damn it, Pedro. That family isn't hard to kill at all, you saw how Rose died, with the amulet on her!")

Pedro sighed.

"Lo sé, lo sé. Yo sólo... Iré por el que funciona. Esa parece más fácil ..sin importar en qué demonios se hayan convertido."

("I know, I know. I just... I'll go for the one that works. That one seems easier ..no matter what the hell they've become.")

"Más te vale.”

(“You better.”)

“ROBERT–!”

Robert snapped his head towards the yell and saw a frazzled, red faced streber staring right at him. He was surprised that Streber would even recognize him with his back turned. Then again, the props of height. Robert slowly turned and gave him a sheepish smile, standing up straight and stiffly. “Hi, Streb.” he mumbled, embarrassed. Streber practically tackled Robert in one of the tightest hugs of his entire life, before lightly smacking him on the back of the head. “Why didn’t you just let Jack drop you off here!? And you lied to a cop? How the hell did you even get a taxi there!?” Robert felt his face burn bright red from embarrassment, looking away from Strebers frankly terrifying glare. “I’m sorry, really! I just–wanted to get all of our stuff out of here so you wouldn’t have too, and it seemed like too much of a hassle to get Jack to drop me off–and I don’t think his car would’ve fit all of this–soo-” Streber cut of Roberts stuttering mess and stepped back into his view, narrowing his eyes. Even though he had a mask on, he could tell he had that “disappointed brother-in-law” pout on. “You could’ve gotten arrested for that, Robert. Lying to an officer, on or off duty is just– stupid! And I doubt however you got from here to there was legal either. Family friend or not, Jack’s the sheriff of our entire town. He could arrest you whenever the hell he felt like it.” Streber snapped, his chest puffing up the more he talked, his fists tucked into a tight hold. He huffed, grabbing his bag of stuff and storming off to the elevator, glancing back at Robert–making him follow with.

The elevator was filled with stuffy silence for about 3 floors or so, Streber and Robert taking their corners of the elevator to sit in silence. Robert looked up at Streber. He’d clearly lost that powerful anger he once had, just letting it simmer away as he stared up at the floor numbers ticking off one by one. It was hard to tell what he really felt with how dark his eyes were. Robert stared at the tile below.

“Sorry.” Streber sighed.

Robert raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m sorry for not picking up–and not being there much anymore. And just..” he swallowed. “Not being a great caretaker for you.” Robert swore he felt a sense of deja-vu at the words..it felt like he’d had this conversation before.

Yet it didn’t make it sting any less.

Robert scooted a bit closer to him. “I don’t blame you for what you have to do.” He muttered slowly. “Life sucks. But, all I want you to do is try. And..I know you are, but–maybe a little bit more thought into it?” Streber nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that could work. And maybe if you talked to me about things like this a bit more?” I wish, Robert thought, but nodded as well. “That could work too. We just–need to practice.” “Yeah.” Robert gave him a half smile, offering his hand. “So, is it a deal?” Streber smiled with his eyes. “Sure.” He shook Robert's hand, albeit a bit shakily, and let it rest on his shoulder. “I appreciate what you were trying to do though. Though the way you got here was stupid, it was a sweet idea.” Robert scoffed, covering his bright red face, but grinned anyway. Streber elbowed him as the elevator dinged dully, the two finally landing on the first floor. Streber hauled his bag as Robert followed behind, the two hurriedly rushing down the entrance stairs and towards the sliding door exit. As Robert shoved his bags into Strebers trunk though, a man at one of the hotel's windows caught his eye. He looked up, meeting his eyes with Andy, his sickeningly friendly wave meeting with his gaze. Robert only glared in return.

The car ride to Jack's house was long. Streber monologued about Jack's rude call as he drove, clearly still spiteful about the exchange as Robert slowly booted up his computer. As Streber blabbed on, Robert slipped the recorder out of his pocket and put it on his lap next to the computer, and began to scroll down to his collection of files. Each and every one incripting dangerous information. All of them were tucked under basic names, such as “Drum Recording.Mp3'' and “Poptropica gameplay 9/24/.Zip” Nothing alarming on the surface, and all perfectly concealed with fake images and silly emoticons. Sure, it’s not like anyone else but him was on this computer anymore, but it was still a good thing just in case Streber was feeling nosey one day, or someone else got a hold of it. Robert began to file a report of what he’d seen in a word document. He described what “Andy” looked like, told about the strange absence of people everywhere, and a small translation of Pedro and Ezmeraldas conversation from memory.

He felt his stomach twist a little as he described the police cars around Rick's apartment though. Right as Streber pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot, they’d both seen a swarm of police cars around Rick's apartment. And saw his taxi being hauled off. It made Robert feel uneasy. He hoped nothing too bad had happened, maybe some old man finally kicking the bucket or something. Still didn’t sit right with him though. And with that report, he signed it off with “R-Hannigan.” and changed the title to “Band Lyrics, Fall Concert.” He let out a stringy sigh and curled his fingers around the top of the screen, midway closing it until–

“ Click.”

Robert’s eyes dashed towards the new light. His mouse was hovering over the search bar, and it slowly began to type.

On its own.

“W-O-R-D-P-A-D” Slowly began to click into the search bar. Robert pulled the screen open again, his eyes widening in disbelief. “The hell..” he mumbled as the mouse hovered on the small Wordpad icon, opening up a new document.

“Hello?” Typed on the bar.

It gave Robert a space to enter.

Robert furrowed his eyebrows, trying to press ESC, hoping it might reset whatever was going on.

It didn’t.

“Don’t do that.” Typed faster into the bar. Robert felt his heart speed up faster. Again, he was given room to enter.

He began to type.

“Who the hell is this? What's going on???”

They paused.

“R.”

“R??? R who?”

“A.” It waited. Robert didn’t respond.

“D.”

Robert felt his heart drop. Rad.

Robert shook his head, blinking a few times. “R.A.D.” Was still on the screen.

“That isn’t your name.” He launched back.

“I’m pretty sure I know my own name, Robbie.”

Robbie.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen, a prickle on his skin.

“If you're trying to scare me, congrats. You won. Now what do you want? Who are you really?”

“You seriously don’t believe this?”

“Why would I?”

They stopped typing.

Then opened the files.

“..What's up with these fake file names anyways, Rob??”

Robert froze.

“Don’t look there.”

There was a pause.

“Ok, I won’t. Sorry. I’m not trying to scare you, at all. I just want help.”

“Sure. Help with trying to sell my data or some sh*t?”

“Robert.”

Robert scrunched up his nose.

“Fine. Just tell me–whoever the hell you are.”

“Again, it’s Rad .”

“Whatever.”

“Here's the deal. All I need for you is to destroy my camera. In any way–throw it on the ground, smash it, just anything you can do that can make it shattered and broken up.”

Robert tensed, his teeth practically slicing against his jaw, and spitefully typed back.

“HELL NO.”

“Rob, please. This is all I’m asking you to do.”

“Why would I break my brother's camera??? It's something we’ve had for YEARS and you just expect me to break it like that???”

“I know it's hard to do. But trust me Robbie it’ll do more good than it ever has.”

“f*ck off.”

And with that, He slammed the computer shut.

Streber gave him a weird look in the rear view mirror. “You alright?” He asked, his head turning just a little. Robert flashed him an “embarrassed” smile. “Yeah–I’m fine. Sorry, this damn thing just..wouldn’t shut.” he laughed, shoving his computer back into its case. Streber gave him a little “mhm” before slowly going back to ranting.

Robert felt a little childish for how he dealt with..whatever that was. But he couldn’t quite help it. I mean..come on–some hacker–break in whatever guy posing as your dead brother? And trying to get you to destroy your camera? No way in hell would he be calm about that. He tapped his finger on his lap as they drove, to a rhythm he couldn’t quite remember, until they finally saw the horizon of Jack's house. “ Ugly color..” He heard Streber mumble before they pulled into the driveway.

Robert plopped his bag onto the couch, and let out a long sigh as he faceplanted along with it. The trip to Jack’s house was short, not very notable. Just–very awkward. Streber and Jack sat in silence for a solid 10 minutes while Robert got his clothes until they whispered they’re barely goodbyes. Jack didn’t even bother to smile at him, proving how bad it was. The most he asked him was a few, nonchalant questions of the obvious “Where were you”’s and “Are you ok” and “Don’t lie to me next time otherwise I’ll probably throw you into prison”’s..He didn’t really say that one, but what Streber said still stuck with him. So it made him a little uneasy. Every word Jack said Robert now had to consider what he said in return. Not just–..talk to him like a normal person. Sure, he always had his guard up for everybody but, he considered Jack almost like family. He’d known him for god knows how long, liked him, admired him. And always went to him when he needed a breather once in a while, ..never thought of him as a threat. But, he had too. Maybe he needs to for everyone. Just a little bit more.

As Robert slowly shifted on the couch he couldn’t help but let his mind wander over the entire situation. The taxi, the break in, the hotel–everything that had gone wrong this past day or two. And his brain stopped right at the car ride. It made him shove his computer away from him. How sick could a person be to do that? What even was their goal? They could’ve just–taken his information, maybe locked the thing and let him off the hook, but no. They just had to go further. And what was the point of telling him to break his camera? It all made him uncomfortable, and an awful feeling in his skin, as if it was crawling on his back and prickling every hair on his spine. He clutched his forearms just a little tighter, pulling his back against the arm rest and hoisting himself up. He stared down at the electronic. Nothing looked different. He opened it, just to check, and it was completely normal. No Wordpad, no text, no mouse moving on its own–nothing. Just, his normal computer. He slowly shut it. Maybe he really was that sleep deprived.

He felt a buzz on his side launch his bobbing head back up, a text from Ross popped up on his screen.

“Hey are you doing ok? :(“

Robert slid it open, and typed back.

“ I’m ok-ish. :) How’s your leg?”

“Same as how you feel. Its numb, but better than pain. Got a wrap and pain killers for it. Dont think I can do any house-sitting again anytime soon XD”

Robert rolled his eyes.

“Ha ha, very funny. But I’m guessing this is adding to my not-so-great reputation with your parents, right?”

A few dots of typing popped up before Ross replied.

“Surprisingly, not really..? They were more mad at me than anything. They said “i shouldve known better” which..to be fair was kinda true. T_T”

Robert frowned a little.

“ I don’t think it was your fault. I mean–I wouldn’t have been able to predict that.”

“Eh..my parents had read the articles to me but uh. Yk..one ear and out the other. :,)”

“Mm. Did you get grounded?”

“Nah, not like–grounded grounded, but just. Not going outside today to “rest”. And my mom also wants me to work on her yarn painting with her soo..”

“Makes sense.”

“So glad I’m being missed XD” Ross added sarcastically.

“Sorry–I'm kinda dry bc some stuff happened.”

“Its alright!! I don’t mind. But are you free the rest of the day?”

Robert threw his legs over the edge of the couch, leaning his arm on the rest.

“ Yeah? Why do you ask??”

R0ss typed for a solid two minutes before finally replying,

“ There's someone who’d like to meet up with you at the mall.”

Robert froze, staring at the text. It unnerved him a little.

“..It took you that long to type that?”

“I was overthinking. But, I’ve been talking to Roy recently. And he’s up to talking again with you.”

Robert furrowed his eyebrows, slowly glaring at the screen. He hadn’t talked to Roy in nearly a year, ever since he’d ditched him for being so depressed and in grief. In one of the worst ways possible. Text . Though he’d tried to play it off, it got to him a lot. One of the closest friends he’d ever had just..leaving him over a dime. It didn’t feel right to him. And for him to just–act like he’s ready to talk? For one thing he should’ve gotten the gall to reach out to Robert himself. But of course, it was through Ross. Since he hadn’t ditched him. At least, not digitally. Robert took a deep breath, and shoved down his burning anger, and slowly replied.

“ I’m not sure.”

Ross replied instantly.

“ You don’t have too–but, he does feel bad. And I think he’s changed a lot since then. He wants to make up for what he did.”

“Mmm. Why didn’t he reach out to me then?”

“He said you blocked him.”

Robert felt a little pink tint in his cheeks. Right.

“ Whoops.”

“But, he offered to pay, shockingly enough. And maybe you could get a bit more info about why he actually left. Up to you though! :>”

“I’ll think about it.”

And with a few “Love you”’s and hearts, the conversation ended.

Robert was at the mall about 4 hours later. A little early to the time that Roy said he wanted to meet. Ross suggested that so he could “prepare himself”. He also took a nap–because he wasn’t meeting the guy who ditched him for nearly a year with 2 hours of sleep at the most. So, 4 hours of sleep worked better. Made him feel a little bit more like an actual human being, rather than a walking ticked off zombie. As Robert sat the smells and colors of the mall soaked into his skin as he lay still, adjusting himself on the plastic bench. He hadn’t been to the mall in awhile, maybe 5, 6 months? It felt bizarre to be back at the mall–and not hunting for clothes, or furniture, or anything boring. Just, on his own, “willingly”, for pleasure.

And to be out in a place like this alone was kind of strange too. Sure, he went out alone all the time but–not to malls or busy streetsides. He was used to condemned buildings and quiet roads, not being vulnerable to the public's eye. But here? He was out in the open. Out to the public's scrutiny, out to everyone's mind and thought, and out with strangers beyond himself. Something he was so accustomed to once upon a time, now felt like a nightmare. His paranoia was through the charts. To wonder who lie between the cracks and slither through crowds, holding secrets and thoughts in you could never dream of existing in reality was unnerving. He’d never quite thought of it back then, but now? It was his only worry. Everything he’d taken for granted before now consumed him more than ever.

Pick.

He glanced down at his left arm. His nail was firmly planted into his skin, digging. A little splotch of blood rose on his shoulder as he picked, the metallic smell filling his nose and riding away the warm scent of pretzels and greasy fast food. His lip rested softly under his teeth. God, he was a mess.

He gently placed his palm there in place of his finger, feeling the cool substance lick the edges of his skin sharply. He really had lost who he once was, huh?

He lowered his head bit by bit, before finally letting it just–hang down. His hair shielded his face away from the looks of any passers by, and let him finally breathe. The senses of everything around him began to dull, the lights muffled, and the smells seeping away from his overheating skin. The window above him hit sun against his back, soaking in his dark shirt. And slowly, he felt his breathing begin to lighten. His skin feeling a little less penetrable. And his body feeling a little less vulnerable.

As he began to lift his head back up though, he felt a cold feeling reach his feet. Something–..wet? He flicked his gaze down to his green converse, their once bright emerald now soaked to a forest mud.

“I’M SO SORRY–!”

His head hesitantly tilted to the side, and peaked up at the gasping figure in front of him. The figure in front of him was of a teenage boy–probably a bit younger than him (14 maybe?), with shaggy dark hair and frightened eyes, along with a soda cup clutched in his hands. Robert glanced at the fallen trash can next to him. Ah. He couldn’t help but feel himself smirk at the sight, a little hint of laughter rising in his lungs before he dismissively raised his hand up. “It’s fine–really. Just a spill.” The boy turned bright red of embarrassment. “I–I know but like–Your converse! They’ve got to be wrecked! Please just, let me clean this up.” he frowned. Robert raised his eyebrows in surprise. For a guy in a basic nirvana tee and flannel, he knew his shoes. Robert felt that touch of a smile slowly spread out as he got up. “Here, how about we split up cleaning. You do the spill, I do the trash can.” The boy aggressively nodded, a flash of a grin forming on his face before he ran off quickly, ran to a pretzel stand nearby and plucked some napkins off the counter, while Robert began to tend to the trash can. The mess was only a quick clean up before he was able to sit down again, the boy tossing his cup into the tidy trash can at the end. Robert felt his mood brighten far more as the boy slowly turned towards him, fiddling with his backpack a lot. He seemed to stare at Robert a lot too.

“Are you alright..?” Robert grinned, raising a brow. The boy snapped out of his thoughts and nodded (once again aggressively) and slowly put his backpack down next to Robert. “I’m, again, sososo-SO sorry for that. I was trying to come over and sit here but I uh..tripped on that trash can and..you know the rest.” Robert chuckled a little, patting the area next to him, inviting him to sit. “It’s fine, really! You deserve this..okish seat for all of that.” he joked. The boy beamed. “Thank you.”

Oddly enough, he felt very comfortable around the guy. He felt somehow familiar to him, and yet a fresh sight to see at the same time.

As he adjusted his seat, Robert glanced at his backpack. It was chalk full of sports and band pins, and he clearly had a love for basketball. Little basic, but maybe worth a shot to talk too. “So, what's your name? If you don’t mind me asking.” Robert said slowly. “Uh–” The boy quickly glanced at his backpack, looking a little sweaty before quickly replying with “Uhm–Carlos! Carlos–..mmm..Macnamara.” Robert gave him a funny look. Nervous kid. At least he wasn’t “Andy”.

“Sounds kinda like Marinara.” he laughed, leaning back on the bench. Carlos laughed a little forcedly, “I’ve gotten that before–hah..but um, what's your name?” Robert smiled. “Names Robert, Robert Hannigan.” That was the least he could be truthful about. Carlos grinned, a little sparkle reaching his eyes. “Nice to meet you Rob.” Carlos shook his hand–which to be fair wasn’t even offered but–he didn’t mind. As they shook hands though, Carlos’s eyes caught Robert's attention. Sure, on the surface they seemed to be a light brown, but the moment they reached sunlight they sparkled a foggy green, right around the pupil. They almost gave a surreal glitter when they met Robert's eyes. Robert blinked a little before continuing, “So what’re you doing here?” A little bead of sweat formed on Carlos’s head. He fumbled with his words, “I’m just–explorin’ a bit, hoping a friend might come, if he’ll ever pick up the phone . But, what about you?” “Same for me. I haven’t been here in..god–like..6 months? But even then I don’t think that counts–didn’t come here for fun even then, just to shop for boring stuff. So this is the first time in like– a year I've come for my own enjoyment. Never alone though.” Carlos frowned softly, “That’s kinda sad. I mean–even if you weren’t doing fun things, it still wasn’t enjoyable? I’ve never really–..dunno, felt that way about a mall.” He shuffled with his arms a little. Robert thought for a moment, before saying “It..wasn’t that great of a time in my life. Kinda the same time where, uh–the person i’m meeting right now left me for awhile too.”

Carlos’s eyebrows furrowed. “Were you two close?” “..Yeah. He was.. my best friend really, me and my partner were super close with him. I met my partner through him actually.” A little flash of what Robert could only describe as strong disapproval flickered onto the guy's face. “ Awful.” “ And he did it through text of all things too.” Carlos’s eyes widened “ Text? He had the gall to ditch you like that through TEXT? ” Robert scoffed, “ YEAH! And then acted like it was his choice whether or not he wanted to see me!” “I–just– urghhh…” Carlos rubbed his sinuses, shaking his head. “How did you even give him the time of day!? I mean–I don’t think I would’ve ever wanted to see his face again.” Robert sighed. “And then there's the catch, I’m not quite sure if it was..really quite his doing.” Carlos froze. “..His doing? It was his own choice for christs sa–""No no, not that,” Robert cut him off, “I mean–like–some extra intervention. Particularly his tight-ass rich parents, who hate me and my partners guts. Carlos groaned. “Of course they did. God–you’ve got a purer heart than I've got Robs, I would’ve ditched his sorry a–..” He stopped himself. “..Self, a long time ago.” Robert snickered. “You don’t have to censor yourself around me, I swear like a sailor it's fine.” He said, waving his hand dismissively. Carlos made a little “Mm..” sound before continuing, Robert noticing how much his legs seemed to fall on top of one another, seeming unsteady. “What time is it?” Carlos asked, scratching the back of his head shakily. Robert glanced up at the large clock in the middle of the plaza.

“4:40” was ticking right on the front. “4:40, my friends about to get here in 10 minutes–but why?” Carlos glanced down at his legs before abruptly saying, “No reason. Just–kinda waiting for mine too.” Robert frowned a little. “Hoping I don’t bore you THAT much–” he joked before being quickly interrupted by, “ NONONOnOOO– Not at ALL, I just–um, am a bit.. nervous about meeting my friend..thats all.” he gave a sheepish grin. Robert scoffed with a smile. “You’re funny, I like you.” Carlos beamed. “I’m glad you still like me.” Robert raised an eyebrow, “ Still?” Carlos turned bright red, “I meAN–like, still like me even after I ruined your shoes. Givin’ me a chance..n stuff.” Robert laughed, “I was just messing with you, no need to explain yourself!” He nudged Carlos in the arm a little. “ But..” he glanced up, another minute passing by. Roy would be here soon. “I also think he still misses me too. I mean–obviously he cares enough to come out here, so, there's that.” “ Which is also the bare minimum, but, you know..” Robert elbowed him in the ribs lightly. “Heyyy..! I was just being honest, dude!” Robert rolled his eyes, adjusting the bag on his side. “But, it's probably best if I start to go out and look for him. Still kinda wanna give him a chance, ya know?” Carlos’s eyes softened, a little sympathetic smile reaching his perfect teeth. “Yeah, I get that. I mean– not exactly but –you know what I mean.” He laughed, wiping some sweat off of his forehead as he weakly slumped his back against the bench. Robert grinned. “I get what you mean.” He chuckled, draping his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe we can meet here another time? Remember, the names Robert Windslor if you ever need to look me up in a neighborhood phone book or something.” Carlos gave him a drained, meak little chuckle, before shakily getting up. “See ya, Rob. Stay safe with that jerk–..friend, … or whatever. Teach him you’re even better than he remembers.” he gave Robert a weary little fist bump before waving him out of sight as he sunk into the murky crowd of shoppers.

Carlos, in all honesty, was the first time in ages since he’d enjoyed being in a stranger's presence. And it felt wonderful to feel that old feeling of who he once was again.

Robert stood in the middle of the crowd, staring down blankly at his phone.

“I’ll meet you at the plaza, near the elevator and clock tower.”

Robert looked up at the clock tower. “5:00”.

He squinted at the crowd swerving around him. No sign of Roy anywhere, not even a little. No bouncing short brown hair, no striped sweater, nothing. Just a watercolor crowd. He narrowed his eyes. Is he late? He thought, slowly tucking his phone back away in the depths of his bag. He went on his toes, reaching his waist up towards the heads of the sea of shoppers, his eyes scanning overhead for something–anything that had a sign of his old friend. Still nothing. He slowly frowned. Did he get ditched? Roy did have a tendency to flake out sometimes. Or be freakishly late too. And it was only about 2 hours away from sundown–so it wasn’t like he had much time to spare. Ten minutes, he thought to himself. I’ll give him ten minutes. And if he doesn’t show, then it's his own damn fault. He began to step back away from the crowd, before reaching the back of the clock tower, staring up at its ticking pace above him. He tightened his folded arms around his waist, taking a deep breath. You expected this Robert, he thought bitterly. Don’t be surprised. It's Roy. He’ll alway just be Roy. The no show, temper tantru-

His thoughts stopped in their tracks. It was as if a magnet had just latched onto his skin when he felt his presence, ever so close by.

“ ROB-!!”

He heard him yell with laughter, his voice just a little different than last time. Without a moment to lose, Robert turned on his heel and looked behind him. He felt his heart rise up starkly.

There he was. Standing just a bit taller, maybe an inch or two more than what he used to be, with what seemed to be an orange unbuttoned trench coat on his shoulders, was Roy. He looked both like a new person, and just like the Roy he’d met when he’d just moved to Arizona.

He felt a large curve of a grin shine on his face, as a laugh of disbelief puffed out of his lungs, his fists shook just a little as he stood. It felt like all the hate and malice he’d learned to build up towards him melted within an instant, a bright overlapping joy turning it to ash. Roy’s grin grew wider and wider as he began to run to Robert, waving his arms up before the two quickly clashed into one another, wrapping their arms tightly before Robert lifted him up in the tight embrace. The glow of one anothers lost joys radiated on their backs, laughter pouring out of both as they squeezed one another's bodies.

“ YOU LOOK LIKE A NEW PERSON–!! ”

Robert cackled, shaking Roy’s shoulders just a little.

“ YOU LOOK EVEN WORSE–!”

Roy joked, shoving Robert playfully as the fang under his lips curled out brightly. The two laughed at one another, feeling the ridiculousness of the spite they’d grown towards one another hitting them. It honestly was stupid. The way Roy left, the way Robert just–brushed it off on the surface, but really was hurt underneath, all of it was stupid. They’d needed to grow up. And maybe, that time apart gave them both the space to heal and do so. And maybe, now that they got to see each other grown up, and were mature enough to face one another again–they could finally put that behind them.

And laugh about it.

The glow around them was ecstatic, the air crackling with raw energy they’d both lacked for what felt like forever. They both knew they were being stared at, and didn’t care. Robert didn’t care anymore. And neither did Roy. Roy rubbed his hand against Robert's hair as he grinned, commenting, “You look nicer! And even damn taller than before! What, 4-5 inches taller?” Robert snickered, “Only 3 and a half, my shoes make it to 4 though. You look taller too! And I like the trenchcoat, makes you look like some crime show detective.” Roy snorted, sticking his hands back into his pockets. “Course’ I do, I stole it from dad when he ditched it. Ripped off the bougie tags and branding and made it my own. Added a bit of my own design to it too.” He showed off a bit of his “own design” of what he’d done, (that being ripped off buttons and added symbol patches on the sleeves that were vulgar enough to make his parents faint) before leaning his arm on Robert's shoulder, a smug grin on his face as his eyes wandered around the mall. Snooping out which place to target next. “Man, felt like forever since we’ve been to this old dump, huh?” He snickered, glancing at Robert. Robert rolled his eyes, brushing Roy’s arm off of him. “It isn’t a ‘dump’, Roy. It's just a mall. All malls are sh*tty, that's just a fact. But, they do have some new places around here–couple of food joints and a few new shops, think you’d be up for a bit of a walk?” Roy quickly spun out a little square piece of leather out of his patchy pocket, and opened it up–revealing that it was a wallet. He began to count what he had before slowly nodding, “Yeah, I’m up for it. I haven’t eaten since like–9am, sooo..” Robert grinned before letting Roy lead the way, the two quickly spinning out in average conversation as they went.

It felt odd how normal it was between them. Or just, normalcy in general. Robert really hadn’t felt normal in awhile. Maybe this little mall trip could help him get back into the rhythm of what he used to be.

As the two passed by a nearby store or so, laughing and mocking about all the awful new ad campaigns they’d seen for Evermores desperate attempt at being “one with the public again,”

Robert felt his stomach twist at a quick flash of red and black in front of an old Hot Topic. His voice began to waver, and he quickly tried to avert his eyes, speeding up his pace–but Roy stopped in his tracks, squinting his eyes. “ Ugh, what is that smell?” Robert paused, the all too familiar stench of rotting cigarette smoke reaching his nose. “Isn’t this a smoke-free mall?” Robert groaned into his palm, “ God, no..” He knew exactly what was coming. The stench grew stronger and stronger as he stood, before a painful puff let out into the air, and a gasp filled their confused silence.

“Oh my god! Is that really you, Robert-!?”

Roberts' hands balled into fists.

“ Ethan, what a wonderful surprise.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he spoke.

He could practically feel Roy’s nose crinkle in disapproval. “ Another stench–great.” The two glared at the edgy, and rather pathetic sight before them. Ethan was hovered over one of the posts in front of the hot topic doors, managing to craft a makeshift ashtray out of a once perfectly fine soda cup–now smashed into their insulting excuse of a “breather. They gave a mock, sympathetic smile–their fake fangs somehow making it even more bitchy. “Hey, I know we didn’t end on the best of notes last time bu–” Robert cut them off. “And we don’t need to start on a new one.” He said sternly. Their overly plucked eyebrows furrowed as they rubbed their cigarette into the bottom of their ashtray. “I just wanted to give my condolences.” Robert grit his teeth. “Coming from the person who made my brother's life a living hell, that's rich. I don’t want your condolences, and I don’t want to talk. Just leave me alone, Ethan.” Roy piped up, “You never even cared, anyways!” Ethan shot him a look, a sharp one, one of their specialties at making people feel small. Unfortunately, it worked on Roy–but not Robert. They flicked their hand off of their cigarette bud, and began to saunter over to the pair. “Robert, I know this is tough for you, it is for me too but–” Robert raised his voice. “I said, leave. Me. Alone.” Ethan flicked their tongue over their teeth, a pissed off flicker sparking their once smug eyes. “You can’t just treat someone like this just because you’re hurt!” Robert raised his voice even louder, garnering some light attention. “ I don’t want this to get ugly, just step back and stop talking to us.” Ethans eye twitched, and they practically lunged closer–meeting eye to eye with Robert. “ YOU’RE THE ONE MAKING A SCENE OUT OF THIS!” Ethan yelled, baring their teeth as they spoke. Robert's composure snapped, and Roy could feel it. “ Robert, don’t do anything this isn’t worth i–”

Robert cracked his fist.

Roy’s eyes widened.

He tried to pull Robert back, but then–

“ SLAM-!!!”

Robert's fist pummeled into Ethans nose bridge, a deafening crackle of snapping bone reaching all of their ears before blood shot out from underneath, drenching Robert's fist as they tumbled back. A deranged, strained yelp hurled from their lungs as they cornered their falling footing into anything that could back them up. They crashed their back onto the pillar in front of the store, knocking their ashtray everywhere–getting it in their once perfectly groomed split dyed hair and all over the floor in front of them, before falling on their ass.

All eyes were on the two of them.

Though his heart was pounding, Robert carefully stepped over to the humiliating scene he’d caused, his eyes half empty of any care he had left, before stomping a pair of cigarettes under the soul of his shoe. Ethan made a few struggling sounds before their eyes quickly locked with Robert, as if begging to be helped up–even after that. Robert narrowed his eyes, slowly inching closer before bending down towards their level. He offered them a mock, sympathetic smile. His hand sopping full of their blood.

“I just wanted to give you my condolences, for the broken nose.”

He flicked his hand over Ethan, sprinkling them with their own blood before quickly running off, Roy yanking him faster and faster towards the elevator as he went.

And in that moment, he’d never felt more alive.

Roy shuddered his back into the elevator, a little “hHhHh..” mumbling from his lips as he tried to calm himself down. For the first time in ages, Robert felt like he was the chaotic one in the pair. And it was elating. Though his hand hurt like hell, as if he’d punched a brick wall–it was beyond worth it. He let out a satisfied sigh as he heard the doors slide shut smoothly. He was lucky enough that this mall didn’t have clear elevator walls, unlike most–but he wasn’t quite so lucky for its size. It was cramped and stuffy, and always had a flickering light, but it was better than having to explain that to a cop. Especially Jack. Robert glanced up at Roy, who was dabbing his sweaty head with his sleeve, his eyes sealed shut. He gave him a soft, smug smile.

“Surprised I actually did something this time?” He mused, leaning his head back against the flimsy wall.

“I–” Roy laughed in disbelief. “ Very! You just go up to that asshole , and punch em’ smack dab in the nose? AND BREAK IT? WITHOUT CRYING?!” Robert cackled, “I never really ‘cried’ after fights! Maybe I got a little misty eyed, sure, but only–” He pressed the roof of his mouth against his tongue. Only Rad ever cried after fights, was what he wanted to say. And yet he didn’t have the heart to do so. He didn’t quite know why.

Maybe Rad wouldn’t have wanted to be brought up in this.

Thankfully, Roy quickly caught on and sped up the subject. “Ok ok, you’re right–I’ll give you credit there, I’ve never seen you cry after a fight, but I’ve never seen you smile after one either!” Robert smirked even more. “Well, here I am. Smiling like I just won the lotto after punching someone, what a surprise!” He said sarcastically, doing little jazz hands as he spoke–before the overly loud ding of the elevator doors pushed them out of the open.

He took a deep, glorious breath before stepping on the newly polished floors of the 2nd floor. Unlike the first floor, which relatively stayed untouched from what he remembered, the second floor was entirely remodeled and polished up. Nearly every single old store that used to be there was gone, and instead replaced by newer more mainstream brands, with big, flashing lights on top of them–as if begging to be bought from. It seemed to throw both of them off. “Oh.” Roy mumbled, taking a spin around the center before stopping right in front of a store to his right. Robert hovered over his shoulder, and felt a wave of disappointment fall on him at once.

He remembered an old Blockbuster being right there. He, Ross and Roy would hang around there once in a while on the weekends and pick out the worst old movies they could find, always bottom of the barrel stuff–and wait weeks to return them, to see how long it would take before the stoned employees realized that over 10 movies of theirs were missing. They’d always switch the boxes that each one was in, in order to confuse the customers, or pause the movies at the most awkward frame they could find and leave it there–instead of rewinding it. He remembered laughing his ass off at a knock off Christmas Story movie with Roy right before new years eve, Roy breaking the VHS by accident when he spilled soda all over its box. He got banned for a solid 6 months before he could even step foot again in that store.

It used to be one of his favorite stores ever, the best place he could think of to go whenever he needed a laugh– but now..

It was replaced by a cold, fancy, high end designer store.

With a clear limit on who could go inside, and who couldn’t.

All just by the looks the employees inside were giving them.

“ Oh..” Roy sighed, his eyes bitterly turning away from the golden lights of the place and off towards the new food court, mumbling to himself before gesturing for Robert to follow along–without looking back. Robert frowned. He had a feeling that Roy might’ve been reminded by something else when he looked at it too.

A shining red dress in the front window glared at Robert before he left, bitterly reminding him of the reason they’d been apart for so long in the first place.

Roy twirled a fry or two in between his fingers while they walked down the street, one penetrated in his fang as he ate —a satisfied smile on his face. The tense, disappointed mood from before had quickly washed away once they were met with a familiar face at the food court–serving up fries with a tired smirk as they began to talk about the remodeled mall, and how odd it felt. Though Roy insisted that it was ok for Robert to order anything else, Robert only got a soda for himself at the food court. His appetite was lost completely after having blood all over his hands, and he didn’t want that reminder while dipping his fries in ketchup, so, he passed. His hand now was wrapped up by a few damp napkins he’d managed to fetch while they ordered, soaked with overpriced water and pressed firmly on his skin. It was a bit hard to hold onto while he threw out his soda cup, but it worked to cool off the small cut he got from the punch. As they were walking though, he felt Roy’s eyes begin to wander at a shop only a few blocks away from them, and slowly–he stopped Robert.

“TOPOFTHEGLASS” was a liquor store just nearby at the end of the road, it looked small and shabby–like it might’ve been a pawn shop once, but wanted to rebrand. Robert gave Roy a strange look.

“Roy..? why are we stopping for this..?” Roy’s eyes swirled in shifty thought, as if planning an entire scheme all in a matter of the moment. Then a slow, mischievous smile began to spread across his face. “Ya’ know Rob, I think you might need a little bit more than a soda as an accomplishment for what you did back there.” Roberts' eyes narrowed. “ Roy..” He warned, “Come onnn..live a little! You beat that guy's ass for god's sake and yet you’re drawing the line here? “ Robert clenched his jaw. “I had a reason for that, you know! And I warned them! Every sh*tty thing I do that I know is sh*tty at least has a solid motive behind it, or a driving cause. This is just mindless thef–” Roy covered Roberts mouth. “Look, you don’t have to do much in this. All you’ve gotta do is wear my coat, and follow my lead–that's it. I’ll tell you what to do. And besides, I know them–well, I don’t but my dad does. He always gets whiskey from them, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. Classist bullsh*t, but it's true. So, it helps cut him down a little too. The less money they have, the less quality the whiskey, the less quality the whiskey the less of him buying, and less me havin’ to drag his sorry ass off the poker room floor and back to bed. Anddd, the more of you actually getting to live life!” Roy nudged Roberts chest a little, his eyes softening away from that pawny nature. “Be a teenager for once, Rob. You never let yourself just–be a kid anymore. Always acting so grown up. You’ve got barely any time left. In what, two years? You’ll be an adult. The big one eight. The real deal. So just, please,” He put a gentle hand on Robert's shoulder. “Just–do it for me. For the fun of it, like the old days.” Robert felt a little knot in his gut. He knew Roy was just smooth talking him into doing something he didn’t want to do, he knew almost every time. But what hurt about it was that.. he wasn’t entirely lying. He was running out of time, and wasn’t using it wisely. And, besides–he did far more risky things than this so..

He let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. But you so owe me for this one! And don’t even dare to mention it around Ross or I swea–” Roy swung his arm around Roberts shoulders, practically knocking the wind out of him with a large, smug smile on his face. “Finally! Took you long enough!” He quickly swept his trenchcoat off of his shoulders and onto Robert, and though a little snug–it fit a lot better than Robert expected. Roy dusted off his shoulders and patted his back before shoving him towards the liquor store, heading in straight first.

Robert honestly–kind of missed this feeling, but wasn’t missing what was ahead.

He always felt like an idiot for falling for Roy’s smooth talking.

But oh well.

At least he’d get to live a little.