Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Art by Espectro on Twitter at https://x.com/espectro111222

As soon as the taxi sputtered to a stop in front of the apartment complex, I knew what I was about to walk into.

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised like he was silently judging me. Yeah, buddy, I know this place is a dump. No need to rub it in.

“Skyrise Apartments, huh? What a load of bull.” I mumbled to myself.

I pushed the door open and stepped onto the cracked pavement.

The building looked like it had been through a couple of wars and maybe a natural disaster or two. Paint was peeling off the walls, the windows were grimy, and the smell?

Oh, it was a delightful mix of trash, desperation, and whatever was rotting in the nearby alley.

I paid the driver with almost the last of my cash.

“tha-"

Before I could thank him, I watched as he peels off like he can’t get away fast enough.

Can’t blame him.

I wouldn’t want to stick around here either.

The door to the building creaks like it was about to fall off its hinges as I push it open. Inside wasn’t much better. Dim lights, stained walls, and the faint smell of cigarettes greeted me like an old friend.

“Home sweet home.”

I said with a dry chuckle, heading up to my new place.

My apartment, if you could call it that, was just as depressing as the rest of the building. A mattress on a splintered bed frame fit with a peeled paint ‘aesthetic’, a couple of rickety chairs, and a window that barely let any light in through the dirt and bird shit that was caked onto it.

“At least there’s a ceiling fan, I guess?"

I dropped my bag on the floor and flopped onto the mattress, staring a hole into the ceiling.

“Guess this is it,” I said to no one in particular. My dad’s last words echoed in my head, a bitter reminder of how much he didn’t give a crap.

‘After the first month, you’re on your own, kid. Figure it out.’ Yeah, thanks for the pep talk, Dad. Real motivational.

But hey, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.

Even if this place feels like the universe is playing some cosmic joke on me, I’m not gonna let it beat me.

-

Sleep didn’t come easy. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear the city outside, reminding me of just how alone I was. I tossed and turned, and just when I might get a single minute of sleep?

The nightmares of that fucking day come rushing back, accompanied by the laughing at my expense and the faces of those who tormented me, despite my life right now in this...hellhole.

If it meant I would never again visit Rock Bottom, I would happily live here for the rest of my days. I try to get somewhat comfortable, but the mattress is doing little to nothing to help in that regard...

My alarm wakes me up with the same eerie tone it came with—a sound that has never been altered. Really need to change that at some point. After a seemingly successful dodge roll onto the floor, I’ve already lost my first battle of the day as I’m immediately pricked in the forehead by a loose splinter.

“So much for the routine, Anon."

After peeling both my body and remaining dignity off the ground, I make my way to the microwave and put my morning coffee in. As I waited for the microwave to be done, I began planning my week before I start at Volcano High.

I figured it’d be a good idea to get here a week prior, not only so I had time to get situated in the apartment.

But so I could somehow find a job too.

My mind kept racing, thinking about how I was gonna make this work. I had to find a job fast. I wasn’t about to end up homeless.

“Alright, brain, calm down.”

I mumbled to myself, trying to push the thoughts away.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow, one step at a time.”

-

The next morning, I was up before the sun. Not that I slept much anyway. I grabbed my backpack and hit the streets, determined to find something—anything—that would get me some cash. I tried every store I passed, but each one turned me away before I could even finish asking.

“Nope, we’re not hiring,” they said. Or worse, “We don’t need your kind here.”

Ah yes, nothing like a bit of casual discrimination to really start the day off right.

I mean, I wish I was surprised; the majority of the population here are meteor dodgers, so I hardly look like a prime candidate for a job, but come on, cut a guy some slack.

By Thursday, I was ready to call it quits.

But I couldn’t.

If I didn’t find something soon, I was done for. I kept going deeper into the city, hoping to find a place that was desperate enough to hire someone like me.

-

By the time I ended up in Lil Troodon, the sun was starting to set, casting long shadows over the streets.

This part of town was much different than where I was living; Skinrow was rough, no doubt about it. The kind of place where you didn’t ask questions and you definitely didn’t make eye contact.

Lil Troodon was the opposite, the streets felt warm and full of life, you could actually walk a block without seeing some druggies shouting nonsense or threatening to stab you if you even glanced in their direction. The area seemed nice, filled with stores, markets, and restaurants on every street. People still gave me funny looks though, probably thinking to themselves, ‘Oh look, a skinnie that’s wandered too far from skin row'.

God, I wish that cheap piece of shit got me a place around here.

No use mumbling about the past, Anon. Dad made your bed; now you’ve gotta sleep in it.

I was almost ready to pack it in and head back to my crappy apartment when I saw him. An old T-Rex, probably pushing fifty, locking up a pizzeria. He looked tired, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. My eyes drifted to his back pocket, where a wallet was poking out. It was like it was calling my name.

‘Do it.’

The voice in the back of my head whispered.

‘You need the money; just grab it and run...’

It wouldn’t be hard. The guy’s arms were too short to catch me, and it’s not like anyone else around here would probably care.

I was about to make my move when something stopped me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone else.

Someone with a gun.

My eyes went wide, following to where he was pointing it, the guy was aiming right at the old man.

“Oh Shit,”

I mumbled under my breath. My heart is now pounding a mile a minute.

‘What the fuck do I do?!’

With what courage I could muster, I shouted.

“WATCH OUT!”

The old man turned on instinct.

Just in time to see the gun pointed at him.

He ducked, and the shot went wide, the bullet pinging off the metal shutters behind him. I heard the guy that had fired curse.

“Fuck!”

The guy bolted, disappearing into an alleyway behind him.

-

The old man, Moe, as I’d later find out, got to his feet, dusting himself off.

He then finally turned to look at me; at first his eyes narrowed, like he was trying to figure me out.

For a second, I felt my blood go cold as I went pale.

If looks could kill.

I’d be fucking vaporised right now.

Just when I begin to start regretting my life choices, I saw his eyes begin to soften, ever so slightly, and began to walk over to me.

My first thought was that he was going to ask me to call the cops for him or something.

But instead, he just sighed.

“Thanks, kid,”

He said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

“You saved my life back there.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool.

“No big deal. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Moe observed me for a brief moment, and then I noticed his first smile, followed by a nod. “You hungry Kid?” Was I?

Hell yeah, I was.

But I didn’t want to seem desperate, even though I was.

“I could eat,” I said, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible.

To which I failed immediately, with a series of nervous voice cracks.

‘Smooth anon...’

“Come on,”

The man gestured to me, jerking his head toward the pizzeria door.

“Let’s get you something.”

I followed him inside, after 20 minutes of sitting and waiting for Moe, the warmth and smell of pizza hitting me like a freight train. My stomach growled, and I suddenly realized just how long it had been since I’d had a decent meal.

Moe handed me a slice, watching as I devoured it like I hadn’t eaten in days.

“You got a place to stay, kid?”

I reluctantly nodded, not wanting to admit where I’m living. Disregarding the knot in my throat, I start talking.

“Yeah, I’m staying in an apartment in Skinrow.” Moe chuckled, shaking his head.

“Figures. Look, I don’t know what your story is, and I ain’t asking, but if you need a job…well, this place could always use another pair of hands.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “You serious?” “Dead serious, here, take this as your signing bonus.” He opens his wallet and grabs a few bills.

‘Holy shit, that’s 300bucks.s'

I try to reply, but once again my body betrays me in the form of a series of voice cracks.

“ThAnk yOU siR...but are you sure you’ll be okay after giving me this much?” Moe grinned; the expression he wore seemed to make me feel safe.

“The pay ain’t great, but it’s better than nothing. Think about it.” I couldn’t believe my luck.

“Thanks, Moe. I’ll think about it.”

“Good,”

He turned and began to walk back to the kitchen.

“Now, finish up. You look like you could use a few more slices.”

As I sat there, stuffing my face with pizza, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up.

Sure, I was still in a shitty situation, but at least now I had a shot.

Chapter Text

The next evening, I found myself back at Moe’s Pizzeria, ready for my first shift. Moe had given me the rundown earlier in the day: clean the tables, take out the trash, mop the floors, and occasionally help out in the kitchen if things got busy. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was a job, and right now, I’d take whatever I could get.

Moe was finishing up with a couple of customers as I walked in. He nodded at me, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Glad you made it, kid. Not much to it tonight. Just keep things tidy, help out if we get a rush. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

The pizzeria wasn’t anything fancy. It had a handful of tables, a few booths along the walls, and an old jukebox in the corner that looked like it hadn’t worked in years. The smell of pizza dough and melted cheese filled the air, comforting in its own way.

Despite the run-down appearance, there was something about the place that felt… solid. Like it had been here forever and wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how many shiny new restaurants opened up down the street.

I spent the first hour wiping down tables and sweeping the floor. Every now and then, I’d catch Moe watching me out of the corner of his eye, like he was still sizing me up. I couldn’t blame him. I probably didn’t look like much, a skinnie from the wrong side of town, desperate for a break.

But Moe didn’t say anything, just kept to himself, occasionally giving me a nod of approval whenever I finished a task. It was a quiet night, the kind of night where you could hear the hum of the kitchen appliances louder than the chatter from the few customers scattered around the room.

-

As the clock ticked closer to closing time, the pizzeria emptied out, leaving just me and Moe.

“Thanks for tonight kid, keep up what you’re doin’ and ill be sure to send more work your way, vefore you go, mind taking the trash out to the bins out back? My backs killin' me."

I nodded and grabbed the remaining few bags and started taking them to the bin behind the pizzeria, I about to walk back in when I heard a faint noise coming from outside.

Voices, low and hushed, but with an edge that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I froze, straining to listen. It sounded like someone was arguing in the alley behind the pizzeria.

“Where’s the rest of the merchandise Reed?!”

“Dunno what you’re talking about pal, all I’m sellin’ is Carfe, I don’t deal with anythin’ else man!”

My heart started pounding, the anger in the first voice makes me remember that asshole Bishop, and with it came the memories, my lowest point in Rock Bottom flashing through my mind.

I try to push the anger down when the memories come flooding back, i try the breathing exercises the doc' recommended, but nothing was working, I couldn’t ignore the searing hot anger, my knuckles whitening from how tense my hands were, that was when I’dnoticed what I picked up subconsciously.

At some point I grabbed a brick that was lying near the trash cans, my hands were trembling.

I didn’t know this guy or whether he was getting what he deserved.

I didn’t owe this guy anything...

So then why did i want to bounce this fucking brick off that assholes head?

There was no more time to argue with the rational part of me, I was going to do it.

I had to do.

Something.

I got closer, giving myself the best chance not to fuck this up, I was a far cry from being even remotely athletic, I creep past the wall, trying to make as little sound as humanly possible.

As I got closer, I could see the figures more clearly.

The first guy was a Megalodon, Raptor Christ this guy was a brick shithouse, he had a leather jacket that seemed to more thread than jacket, as the back of the jacket looked like it’d gone through a paper shredder, his jeans weren’t much better, black and tattered, with rips all over them.

‘Christ, this guy is either tough as nails, or is trying to be edgey as shit'

The other guy was lanky, a trike by the looks of it, his clothing was fairly average, but what caught my eye the most was his horns.

‘Raptor Christ he could gore me in an instant if i fuck this up' I mumbled to myself.

I was about to psyche myself out of doing anything.

But then I saw him.

A tall pink Raptor with wild, messy hair, backed up against the wall. He looked more annoyed than scared, his hands shoved in his pockets like he couldn’t be bothered with whatever was happening.

The trike then began to lean in, snout to snout, he had a shit eating grin on his face, like he already knows what’s gonna happen, their postures tense and aggressive.

The Megalodon reached into his jacket, and flipped a knife out, bringing the point of it closer to the raptors neck.

the blade caught the dim light being case off from the moonlight, I felt a cold knot of fear tighten in my stomach.

This was about to go bad.

-

I know I should just call the cops or yell for Moe. But before I could think it through, I hurled the brick at the guy holding the knife.

But not before shouting.

“HEY ASSHOLES!”

I watched as it almost moved in slow motion, watching it rotate in mid air.

For a second I think I put too much power into it, as the trajectory makes it look like its about to soar over his head, but just as I’m about to curse my lack of athletic ability.

It hits the triceratops

Directly on his horns.

CRACK

“AHH FUCK!”

Both of them whip their heads in my direction and I can now see it.

The Triceratops’ top horn has cracked and broken partly from the impact from the brick.

Oh

FUCK

“GET THAT SKINNIE PIECE OF SHIT!”

As they are distracted, the pink raptor, Reed, as I’d later find out, realises this is probably his best chance, and tries to get some distance from his attackers.

Realising my good samaritan act had worked.

I begin to run back to the pizzeria, but before I could react.

The Megalodon was on me.

He grabs me by the neck and restrains me, it doesn’t take long for his friend to catch up.

“YOU’RE GONNA REGRET THAT SKINNIE"

Behind those words, I can see it in his eyes.

Pure murderous intent.

‘I’m so fucked'

He grabs me and kicks me to the ground.

They start beating the shit out of me.

Cursing and spitting as they land each blow.

POP.

A kick to my ribs.

CRACK.

The pain was immediate and intense, but what was worse was the panic that started to rise in my chest.

I couldn’t see a way out of this.

I was done for.

Just when I was about to give up.

I hear the sound of my salvation

CRACK

The guy kicking me stopped abruptly, and I looked up through my blurred vision to see Moe standing there, holding a baseball bat.

He’d just cracked the guy in the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward.

Moe glared at the remaining thugs, the bat resting casually on his shoulder.

“You boys picked the wrong alley,” he said,

his voice cool and menacing.

They looked like they were about to charge at Moe, but they hesitated when they noticed someone else in the background.

A man with a cold expression and a pistol in his hand, who Moe casually referred to as Paulie, was standing a few feet behind Moe.

His eyes locked on the thugs.

“This isn’t over!”

one of the guys snarled at Reed, who was now standing safely behind Moe.

The guy with the knife, rubs the broken horn that was hit with my brick, and turns his attention back to me.

He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.

“Be seeing you, kid,”

He whispered threateningly

Before he and the Megalodon slunk off into the darkness of the alley.

-

Moe knelt beside me, offering a hand to help me up.

“You alright, kid?” he asked, his voice softer now, the bat resting at his side.

I nodded, even though everything hurt. “Yeah… thanks,” I managed to croak out.

Moe gave me a once-over, checking to see if I was really okay.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he said

His gruff exterior cracking just a bit.

“But you’ve also got a lot to learn about picking your battles.”

Paulie nodded in agreement, his expression unreadable.

“You’re lucky Moe was here,” he said flatly, slipping the pistol back into his coat.

Reed, who had been watching the whole thing unfold with a mix of amusement and disbelief, finally spoke up.

“Man, you really do know how to make an entrance,” he said, grinning as he clapped me on the back, causing me to wince.

Moe sighed, shaking his head.

“You got more nerve than sense, kid. But you did good, trying to help. Now, let’s get you inside before you end up needing more than just a band-aid.”

As Moe and Paulie helped me inside, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of fear and satisfaction.

Sure, I’d just gotten the crap kicked out of me, but I’d also stood up to those guys.

As for Moe, he might have come off as just another grumpy old man running a pizzeria, but tonight he’d shown me there was a lot more to him than met the eye. And in this city, that could only mean one thing, nothing here was ever as simple as it seemed.

Chapter Text

As Moe and Paulie led me back into the warmth of the pizzeria, Reed followed close behind, his easy grin never faltering despite the tension of what just happened. I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pounding like it wanted to break out of my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was from the fight or the fact that I’d just narrowly avoided getting killed.

Once inside, Moe tossed the baseball bat onto the counter with a clatter and looked at me.

“You did good, kid,” he said, a hint of pride in his gruff voice.

“But next time, try not to get yourself killed, alright?”

“Yeah… I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied, still a little shaky.

Reed leaned against one of the tables, his eyes flicking between me and Moe.

“Man, you really jumped in there without thinking, huh?” he said, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

“That was cool. Thanks for being a bro back there.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It was nothing, just didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Reed chuckled, clearly not buying my nonchalance.

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it. Not every day you find someone willing to risk their own neck for a stranger. So, what’s your story, man? You from around here?”

The question caught me off guard. I hadn’t really talked to anyone about why I was here, and the last thing I wanted was to spill my guts to a guy I’d just met. My mind raced, trying to come up with something that wouldn’t sound too suspicious.

“I, uh, just moved to Volcaldera a few days ago,”

I said, keeping my tone casual, “Needed a change of scenery.”

Reed nodded, his expression still easygoing, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Cool, cool. What brought you here? Family? Better schools? Or just felt like the right place to be?”

For a split second, I felt a wave of panic rise in my chest. I couldn’t tell him the real reason, i couldn’t even bring myself to think about it without freaking out.

But I managed to keep my voice steady, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, something like that. Just needed to get away from… things. Start fresh, you know?”

Reed seemed to accept the vague answer, not pressing any further. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and asked,

“So, which school are you gonna be at?”

I hesitated for a moment before answering,

“Volcano High.”

Reed’s face lit up like I’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

“Duuuude, no way! That’s my school, man! It must’ve been fate, us meetin’ like this.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I guess it was.”

-

Reed leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued,

“Volcano High’s pretty chill, man. You’ll like it there. And hey, if you’re ever bored, you should come check out my band. I’m the drummer, VVURM DRAMA’s the name. We play in the schools auditorium sometimes, and it’s a blast. Trish and Fang are pretty chill too.”

“A band, huh?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.

“That’s awesome, What kind of music do you play?”

Reed’s grin widened. “We mix it up, rock, punk, a bit of metal. Whatever feels right at the moment, you know? You should come by and chill with us sometime. No pressure, though.”

I nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief. Despite the craziness of the night, it felt good to make a connection, even if it was with someone as laid-back and unpredictable as Reed.

-

As we continued talking, I suddenly remembered the time. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, replaced by a creeping sense of dread as I realized just how late it was getting.

“Hey, Reed,”

I said, cutting into whatever story he was telling me about his bandmate Fang when they tried Carfe for the first time.

“It was really nice meeting you, but I’ve gotta get going. I live in Skinrow, and, well… the sooner I get back, the less likely I am to get stabbed, shot, or both.”

Reed’s expression turned serious for the first time that night.

“Yeah, Skinrow’s rough, man. You sure you wanna walk back there alone? Those guys from earlier might still be hanging around. Wouldn’t be right if something happened to you ‘cause you helped me out.”

I was about to brush off his concern, but Reed was already pulling out a set of keys from his pocket.

“Tell you what,” he said, a grin returning to his face.

“How ‘bout I give you a lift in my van? It’s parked just around the corner. We’ll get you home safe, no problem.”

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright, thanks, Reed. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, no worries, bro. Let’s hit the road.”

-

As we walked out of the pizzeria together, I say bye to Moe, and thanks again for saving my ass with Paulie, Moe just waved me off saying “was nothin' kid" he then gave me my pay for the day, i appreciate Moe doing cash in hand for me, certainly beats waiting till the end of the month.

Reed slung an arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward his van. It was a beat-up old thing, covered in stickers and band logos, but it had a certain charm to it—much like Reed himself.

We climbed in, and as Reed started the engine, I couldn’t help but feel like things were finally starting to look up. Sure, I was still living in a crappy apartment in Skinrow, but at least I’d made a friend. And in a place like Volcaldera, that was worth its weight in gold.

-

As Reed’s van rumbled down the darkening streets, I stared out the window, the neon lights of Lil Troodon fading into the grimy, flickering streetlamps of Skinrow. The air inside the van was thick with the scent of stale smoke and whatever fast food Reed had last devoured, but it was oddly comforting, like I was finally part of something, even if just for tonight.

Reed kept up a steady stream of conversation as he drove, bouncing from one topic to the next with the ease of someone who never worried too much about what came out of his mouth.

“So, what’s Volcano High like?” I asked, more to keep him talking than anything. I wasn’t ready for the silence, for my mind to start racing again.

“It’s chill, man. Teachers are mostly cool, though you get the occasional hardass who thinks they’re running a boot camp instead of a high school. But the real fun’s outside the classroom, you know? Lots of weirdos, like yours truly.”

He grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some rhythm only he could hear.

“And the band?” I continued, trying to keep the conversation alive.

“How did you guys get started?”

Reed laughed, the sound full and warm.

“Oh, man, that’s a story. VVURM DRAMA started as a joke, really. Me , Trish and Fang, well, we were just messing around, trying to kill time one day after middle school. We didn’t even have a name at first, just a bunch of noise. But then one day, it just clicked. Like, we all got into the same groove at the same time, and it felt… right, you know? So we figured, why not make it official?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I totally got it.

“Must be cool, having that kind of connection with people.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s like… you’re part of something bigger, even if it’s just a bunch of misfits making noise in someone’s garage. You should come hang out sometime, see what it’s all about.”

“I might just take you up on that,” I said, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease a bit.

The van rolled to a stop at the edge of Skinrow, the headlights casting long, eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. Reed cut the engine, glancing over at me with an expression that was surprisingly serious for him.

“This is where you get out, bro. But listen, you be careful out here, alright? You might’ve handled yourself pretty well back there, but these streets don’t play around.”

I nodded, gripping the door handle.

“I know. Thanks for the ride, Reed. I owe you one.”

He waved me off, his usual grin back in place.

“Nah, man, we’re even. Besides, something tells me we’ll be seeing each other around.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, maybe. Take care, Reed.”

With that, I climbed out of the van, the door creaking shut behind me. Reed watched as I crossed the street, his van’s engine revving to life again as he took off into the night.

The walk to my apartment was short, but every step felt like a mile. The streets of Skinrow were quieter than usual, but I knew that didn’t mean they were safe. The earlier encounter had left me on edge, every sound making me jump, every shadow seeming to move on its own.

Finally, I made it back to my building, the familiar scent of decay and despair hitting me like a wall as I stepped inside. I trudged up the stairs, my body aching from the earlier scuffle, my mind spinning with everything that had happened.

As I fumbled with the keys, I couldn’t help but replay the events of the night over and over in my head. The way I’d just thrown myself into the fight, not thinking about the consequences, just like Reed had said.

The way Moe had shown up out of nowhere with that bat, saving my ass when I’d thought it was all over. And then Reed, offering me a ride, treating me like an old friend even though we’d just met.

It was a lot to process, and as I finally unlocked the door and stepped into the dim light of my apartment, I felt a strange mix of exhaustion and… something else. Something that felt a little like hope.

I tossed my jacket onto the floor and collapsed onto the mattress, not even bothering to undress. As my eyes drifted shut, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as alone in this city as I’d thought.

And with that thought, I finally drifted off to sleep, the sound of Reed’s laughter still echoing in my ears.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week was a blur of monotony and silent reflection. I spent most of my days running errands and doing odd jobs for Moe at the pizzeria. The work wasn’t difficult, but it was exhausting in that dull, repetitive way that makes hours drag on.

Cleaning, stacking boxes, scrubbing grease off countertops, it wasn’t glamorous, but it kept me busy. And the small amount of cash I earned from Moe helped, but it didn’t take long to realise it wouldn’t be enough.

By Wednesday, it was clear I’d need to find another way to make ends meet. The little bit of money I was making barely covered rent, and what was left over had to be stretched thin for basic groceries.

I was going to have to get creative if I wanted to avoid living on instant noodles and canned beans for the rest of the month.

That’s when the idea hit me.

Busking

It had been a long time since I’d sung in public, but it wasn’t like I had many other options. Plus, I still had my old amp and microphone, even if they weren’t the best quality.

So, on Friday morning, I packed up my gear and headed out to find a good spot to set up.

After wandering around for a bit, I found a park that seemed promising. It had a lot of foot traffic, and funnily enough, it was close to Volcano High.

I set up near one of the park’s main paths, plugged in my amp, and took a deep breath.

It felt strange to be doing this again, but the necessity outweighed the nerves.

For the next few hours, I sang a few songs, old favourites that I knew well enough to not mess up.

The park-goers were mostly indifferent, but a few people stopped to listen, dropping loose change into my guitar case. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As the morning turned to afternoon, I was in the middle of a song when a memory of my dad’s voice intruded. I could still hear him clearly, that gruff tone of disappointment in every word.

'If you want to make it in this life, Anon, you’ve got to sacrifice stupid shit like this and be realistic. This is my final lesson to you, maybe you’ll finally listen and take it to heart.'

My fingers slipped on the strings, the sound coming out harsh and wrong. Anger flared up inside me.

I hadn’t thought about him in days, but now, here he was, poisoning the only good thing I had left. I stopped playing, trying to calm down as I grabbed my water bottle

Just as I was starting to settle, I noticed two figures walking together down the path, a purple triceratops and a pterosaur.

They looked like students, maybe from the high school nearby.

The triceratops glanced my way, and I could see the sneer on her face as she nudged her friend.

“Skinnie,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

The insult stung, though I tried not to let it show. The triceratops snickered audibly, as if proud of her cleverness.

But it wasn’t her that caught my attention. It was the pterosaur. Her amber eyes were the first thing I noticed.

Bright and deep, like molten gold.

They seemed to catch the light just right, making them shimmer with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

For a moment, I forgot about the insult and just stared.

Her outfit was striking too, black halter top, a bird skull necklace, and ripped skinny jeans.

It wasn’t just what she was wearing, but the way she carried herself that held my gaze.

Confident, but with an edge that hinted at something darker beneath the surface.

I realised I’d been staring too long and quickly shifted my gaze back to her face.

Her orange and purple eyeliner was sharp, accentuating the anger that was now clearly etched in her expression.

Her long, silver hair framed her face, making her eyes stand out even more.

She met my gaze with a look of pure irritation, her lips curling into a scowl.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she flipped me off before turning back to her friend.

The triceratops gave one last sneer in my direction, and they continued walking.

I felt a mix of shame and frustration. I hadn’t meant to stare, but the triceratops had been rude, so maybe the ptero was just as much of an asshole.

Still, the memory of those eyes stayed with me as I packed up my things and headed home.

Saturday was a little better. I went back to the same spot in the park, and while there were fewer people around, those who did pass by seemed more interested in my music.

Maybe it was the weekend vibe, or maybe I was just getting back into the groove of performing, but the day went smoothly.

I managed to make a decent amount in tips, too, not a fortune, but definitely more than yesterday.

As I walked back to my apartment that evening, I counted the money I’d earned over the two days. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

I thought about using the money to get some better audio equipment, maybe a new mic or a more powerful amp, but decided against it.

For now, the basics would have to do.

When I got home, I threw my gear onto the bed and collapsed into my chair. It had been a long couple of days, and I needed to unwind.

I pulled out my phone and opened up Dinocord for the first time in weeks, I used this to keep in touch with my only real friend.

Stegostar.

I hadn’t been online in weeks, and as soon as I logged in, I saw that Stegostar had messaged me multiple times since I’d been gone.

---

**Stegostar**: Anon! Where’ve you been? I’ve been worried sick! You missed the anime watch party I set up last weekend… ;_;

**Stegostar**: I know life’s been rough lately, but I was really looking forward to watching those episodes with you.

---

I sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. I hadn’t meant to ghost her like that, but with everything going on, I’d just… needed space.

---

**Anon**: Hey, Stego, I’m really sorry about that. Things got crazy, and I totally lost track of time. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Maybe we can do another watch party soon?

**Stegostar**: You’d better! You know how much I look forward to those. Don’t make me send my minions after you.

---

I smiled. Stegostar always knew how to lighten the mood. We chatted for a while about anime and the usual stuff.

It felt good, like a piece of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life.

---

**Stegostar**: So, how’ve you been? Really?

**Anon**: I’m okay, just trying to get by. Volcaldera’s a tough place, but I’m managing.

**Stegostar**: …You sure? You don’t sound okay.

**Anon**: Nah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m not some charity case or anything. Besides, I’ve got something to keep me busy now—I just started at a new school.

**Stegostar**: Oh? Which one?

**Anon**: It’s called Volcano High.

---

There was a long pause. I stared at the screen, waiting for her response. When it finally came, it was a lot shorter than I expected.

---

**Stegostar**: Volcano High?

**Anon**: Yeah. Why?

**Stegostar**: …

**Stegostar**: Look, I’ve gotta go, but we’ll talk more on Monday, okay? Take care, Anon.

**Anon**: Sure. Take care, Stego.

---

And just like that, she was gone.

I stared at the screen, confused by her reaction. What was that about? Stegostar never just bailed like that, especially not in the middle of a conversation.

I wanted to ask more, but if she was already offline, there wasn’t much I could do.

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes as the fatigue of the week started to catch up with me.

Something about that whole conversation didn’t sit right, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. There was no point in worrying about it now.

With a sigh, I turn my phone off and crawled into bed. Tomorrow was Sunday, and I needed to get some rest before the start of another week.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t shake the image of those amber eyes from my mind, or the uneasy feeling that something in my life was about to change.

whether I was ready for it or not.

-

Monday morning hits like a freight train. The blaring of my alarm clock is relentless, slicing through the fog of sleep like a knife. I groan, rolling over in bed, only to end up headbutting the floor with a solid thud. Great start.

I peel myself off the ground, rubbing my forehead as I stagger to my feet.

The first day at a new school, and I’m already feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck.

But there’s no time to wallow, time to get ready.

My morning routine is as standard as it gets.

A quick lukewarm shower to wake myself up, followed by a bowl of cereal that tastes more like cardboard than anything else.

I throw on a pair of jeans and dig through my closet for something to wear on top. Eventually, I settle on a tank top that’s at least two sizes too big, something I got at a concert back in Rock Bottom.

The black beanie and olive-green overshirt come next, doing their best to hide my gangly arms. Perfect.

As ready as I’ll ever be.

Stepping outside, I’m greeted by a thick fog that hangs in the air like a bad omen.

The kind of fog that makes the world around you feel smaller, more claustrophobic.

The ominous feeling in my gut tightens, but I can’t put my finger on why.

Something about today feels off, but there’s no turning back now.

The walk to school takes about twenty minutes, the fog curling around me as I go.

The streets are quiet, almost too quiet, and the bad feeling only grows stronger. But I push it aside, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

When I finally arrive at Volcano High, the sight that greets me is overwhelming.

An array of colourful dinosaurs, of all shapes and sizes, swarms the entrance.

I’m the only human in a sea of prehistoric creatures, and the feeling of being out of place hits me like a ton of bricks.

Already, I can hear the whispers. They’re not subtle.

“fleshbag”

"skinnie"

“monkey,”

The remarks float through the air, confirming what I expected.

The speciesist bullshit is real.

I try to ignore it, but it’s not easy when you’re the only one of your kind in a place like this.

As I’m mentally preparing myself for the day, I hear someone call out to me from the top of the steps at the main entrance.

I look up to see Reed, the pink raptor from last week.

Waving and smiling at me.

Despite everything, I can’t help but smile back. A familiar face in this ocean of strangers is a relief.

But as I walk closer, I notice that Reed isn’t alone. He’s standing with a couple of others, both of whom start to turn, curious about who their friend is yelling to.

My heart sinks as I recognize them.

It’s the triceratops and the pterosaur from the park.

The same ones who had their little moment of disdain when I took a break from busking.

My brain pieces it together in a flash, 'these must be the friends Reed was talking about, his fellow bandmates.'

I mumbled under my breath.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Judging by the look on the triceratops’s face, she’s thinking the same thing I am.

Her expression mirrors my own, a mix of surprise and irritation. She doesn’t look happy to see me, and honestly, I can’t blame her.

This day just went from bad to worse.

Reed, oblivious to the tension between us, waves me over with even more enthusiasm.

“Hey, man! Over here!”

I drag my feet up the steps, knowing full well this is going to be.

A VERY long day.

Chapter Text

Reed’s excitement is contagious, even though a knot of unease tightens in my stomach as I approach him and the two dinosaurs beside him.

I’m trying to figure out how to play this, but all I can think about is how I’m supposed to get through the day without getting on anyone’s bad side, especially since I’m already standing out like a sore thumb.

“Anon, you made it!” Reed grins, he puts his fist out for me to bump.

His enthusiasm is a bit overwhelming, but I manage to return the fist bump, albeit awkwardly.

As I step closer, my gaze flickers to the two figures standing beside Reed.

The triceratops I recognize immediately.

She’s got an air of intensity about her, like she’s perpetually on the edge of an argument, and she’s looking at me like I’m already on thin ice.

The pterosaur next to her, Fang doesn’t meet my eyes at first. She’s got this brooding vibe, like she’s barely tolerating being here.

It’s the same intense look she had back in the park, only now I can see the gears turning in her head, analyzing me.

“Hey.”

I greet them, trying to keep things cool. I’m here to get through the day, not to stir up trouble.

Reed jumps in, as if sensing the tension.

“Anon, meet Trish and Fang, my best buds and the coolest dinos you’ll ever meet.”

“Coolest, huh?” Trish says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She crosses her arms, giving me a once-over.

"So, this is the new human Reed’s been blabbing about?”

Fang finally glances at me, her amber eyes flicking over me with an unreadable expression.

"Figures,” she mutters, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I shift uncomfortably under their scrutiny, trying to keep my cool.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Anon. Just moved here a few days ago.”

Trish snorts, unimpressed. “Another stray, huh? What’s your deal? Why’d you come to *this* place of all places?”

I pause, i dont want to show any weakness to her, and try not to let any emotion show on my face, something tells me she'll take anything i say and revel in watching me squirm.

"I just… needed a change. Something different.”

“Different?”

Fang echoes, her voice low and challenging.

Reed, ever the peacemaker, jumps in again.

“Come on, guys. Give him a break. He’s new, trying to figure things out. Remember your first day, Trish? You nearly gored a guy because he looked at you funny.”

Trish shrugs, not denying it.

“Yeah, well, he deserved it.”

I try to laugh it off, but it comes out more nervous than anything.

“I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble.”

Fang narrows her eyes slightly, as if weighing my words.

“Good luck with that. This place eats new kids alive.”

Reed claps me on the back, almost knocking me off balance.

“Don’t worry, Anon. You’ve got us. You’ll be fine.”

I nod, though I’m not entirely convinced. The way Trish and Fang are looking at me, it’s clear they’re not exactly rolling out the welcome mat.

But I didn’t come here to make friends, I came to survive, to start over.

As we head into the school, I can’t shake the feeling that this day is going to be a lot harder than I anticipated.

The halls are packed with students of every shape, size, and color, and I stand out like a sore thumb. Whispers follow me as I walk, but I keep my head down, focusing on just getting through the day.

---

As the morning bell rings, signaling the start of first period, I follow the flow of students through the crowded halls. I’ve been trying to blend in, but it’s hard to do when you’re the only human in a sea of colorful dinosaurs.

The first class of the day is English, a subject that should be a breeze,nif it weren’t for the teacher.

I enter the classroom and take a seat near the back, hoping to go unnoticed. Unfortunately, my hope is short-lived.

“Ah, we have new student today, yes?” Mr. Tsuki’s voice cuts through the room, and I cringe.

His English is atrocious, like he learned it from watching bad movies. He’s a stegosaurus with a thick, fake Japanese accent that makes every sentence a struggle to understand.

“Please, stand up and introduce yourself.”

I reluctantly rise to my feet, feeling the eyes of the entire class boring into me. I don’t want to draw attention, but there’s no getting out of this.

“Uh, hey. I’m Anon. I just moved here a few days ago,” I mumble, trying to keep it short. “I’m into video games, music, you know, general teenager stuff.”

Mr. Tsuki nods enthusiastically, even though I doubt he understood half of what I said.

Just as I’m about to sit down, a voice interrupts.

“Why are you joining the school halfway through the year?”

It’s a girl, a parasaurolophus with glasses perched perfectly on her snout.

Her appearance is pristine, not a wrinkle out of place, and she’s looking at me with an expression that’s a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

I glance at her, sizing her up. She seems like the type who follows every rule to the letter, a real goody-two-shoes.

Probably has a personality as exciting as a bowl of plain oatmeal. But her question catches me off guard, and I have to stop myself from letting any emotion show on my face.

“I just… needed a change,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “Thought it might be nice to start fresh.”

She doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but before she can press further, Mr. Tsuki waves a hand.

“Okay, okay, Anon, you sit now. Class, turn to page thirty-two. We discuss… um, literature.”

I gratefully sink back into my seat, relieved that the spotlight has shifted away from me. The class drones on, but I can’t focus.

The topic is dull as dirt, and Mr. Tsuki’s broken English isn’t helping. My thoughts drift, and before I know it, I’m staring out the window, my mind wandering to those amber eyes I saw in the park on Friday.

Why did they feel like they were staring right through me?

---

When the bell finally rings, I’m the first out of the door, eager to escape the monotony. But I don’t get far before the parasaurolophus from earlier catches up to me.

“Hi, Anon,” she says, a bit too cheerily.

“I’m Naomi, the student council president. It’s my job to make sure new students like you feel welcome.”

Great. Just what I need, a welcoming committee.

“Uh, thanks,” I say, trying to sound polite even though I really just want to get to my next class.

Naomi doesn’t take the hint.

“If you ever have any questions or need help finding your way around, just let me know. I’m happy to help!”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, hoping to end the conversation. But Naomi just keeps smiling, her enthusiasm unwavering.

“You’re in a tough spot, being the only human here,” she continues, as if I needed reminding. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine. Everyone here is really friendly once you get to know them!.”

Somehow, I doubt that, but I just nod.

“I appreciate it, Naomi, but I really have to get to my next class.”

“Of course! Don’t let me keep you,” she says, finally stepping aside.

“But remember, if you need anything, I’m here.”

“Yeah, sure. See you around.”

I make my escape before she can say anything else, relieved to be away from her overly cheerful attitude.

---

Math is next, and I’m not looking forward to it. Numbers were never my thing, and the sight of the textbook alone makes my head hurt.

As I enter the classroom, I spot Reed and Trish sitting at the back. They’re an odd pair, with Reed’s laid-back vibe clashing with Trish’s intense energy.

I hesitate for a moment before deciding to sit a few rows in front of them. I’m not sure if I’m ready for another round of Trish’s icy glares.

The teacher, a disinterested middle aged human, barely acknowledges the class as we file in.

“Just work on the problems in the workbook,” he says, flipping open a magazine and settling into his chair.

“I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Yeah, right. I crack open the workbook and start slogging through the problems. It’s slow going, and I can already feel my brain protesting.

Math was never my best subject, and it’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with this level of algebra.

I’m deep in concentration, or at least trying to be, when something soft hits the back of my head.

I look down to see a crumpled paper ball on the floor. Frowning, I pick it up and unroll it, revealing a note written in Reed’s sloppy handwriting:

*Come sit with us, dude.*

I glance back at Reed, who’s grinning and waving me over. Trish, sitting beside him, doesn’t look thrilled, but she’s not stopping him either. I hesitate, weighing my options. Sitting with them could either be a good way to make allies or a disaster waiting to happen, especially with Trish’s less-than-welcoming attitude.

But after a moment, I decide to go for it. Maybe it’ll make math class less painful. I gather my things and move to the back, taking the empty seat next to Reed.

“Hey man.” Reed says, keeping his voice low.

“How’s it going? Need help with the math?”

I glance at his workbook, already completed and filled with neat, correct answers.

“Yeah, actually. This stuff’s killing me.”

Reed slides his workbook over with a grin.

“No problem. Copy away, man. Gotta pay you back for saving my bacon the other day.”

At the mention of that night in the alley, Trish’s ears perk up. She turns to me, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“So, what actually happened? Reed’s been a bit vague about it.”

I glance at Reed, who gives me an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, I tell Trish the story, keeping it as straightforward as possible. By the time I’m finished, Trish looks conflicted. She’s not glaring at me anymore, but there’s still a guarded look in her eyes.

“You don’t seem bad for a skinnie,” she says finally, her tone grudgingly respectful.

“But step a toe out of line, and I’m goring you with my horns, got it, baldy?”

I nod quickly, not wanting to test her resolve.

“Got it.”

Reed chuckles, clearly pleased that things are going smoothly, for now, at least.

“See? We’re all getting along just fine.”

We spend the rest of the class chatting quietly, with Reed helping me through the math problems. It’s surprisingly easygoing, even with Trish’s occasional sharp comments.

By the time lunch rolls around, I’m ready for some peace and quiet. I find a spot in the cafeteria where I can eat without drawing too much attention, but my solitude doesn’t last long.

Before I can even unwrap my sandwich, Reed plops down across from me, followed by Trish and Fang. Reed’s grinning, but the other two look less than thrilled to be here.

Trish immediately starts picking at her salad, clearly not interested in conversation, while Fang watches me with that same unreadable expression.

“So, how’s your first day going?” Reed asks, his tone bright and cheery.

I shrug, trying to play it cool.

“It’s… different. Still getting used to everything.”

“I bet,” Reed says with a laugh.

“Volcano High’s a bit of a shock at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. Right, Trish?”

Trish doesn’t even look up from her lunch. “Sure, if he survives.”

“Trish!” Reed says, giving her a playful nudge. “Don’t scare the guy.”

Trish rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything more. Fang, however, is still watching me, like she’s trying to figure something out. Finally, she speaks.

“So, Anon… what do you do? What’s your thing?”

I blink, caught off guard by the question.

“My thing?”

“Yeah,” Fang says, leaning back in her seat.

“Everyone’s got something. Reed’s the social butterfly, Trish is the brains behind 'VVURM DRAMA' what about you?”

I hesitate, not really sure what to say. I’ve kept to myself for so long, it’s hard to pin down what “my thing” even is anymore.

“I don’t know,” I finally say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I guess I’m still figuring that out.”

Fang narrows her eyes, as if trying to read between the lines.

“Right. Well, good luck with that.”

Reed jumps in before the silence can stretch too long. “Don’t worry, Anon. You’ll find your groove. We all do eventually.”

The rest of lunch passes in a sort of uneasy truce. Reed keeps the conversation light, trying to draw everyone in, but it’s clear that Trish and Fang aren’t entirely sold on me yet.

I can’t blame them, I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in myself.

-

"So, Anon,"

Reed began between bites of his sandwich, "we’ve got a little gig in the auditorium after school today. Nothing big, just some practice with an audience. You should come check it out."

I looked up, genuinely curious.

"Sure, I’m down"

"It’s a two-bass band," Trish interjected before Reed could answer, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Reed’s on drums, I do backing bass, and Fang does is main bass with vocals."

I blinked, a little taken aback.

Two basses? That’s… unusual

Fang’s expression shifted ever so slightly when Trish said that, normally I'm bad at picking up on how others feel, but I knew that look in her eyes.

Fear.

Maybe she's got a bit of stage fright?

As I follow that thought, I pale as Im pained to remember.

That goddamn talent show...

*6 weeks earlier

It was the annual talent show back in Rock Bottom, a town as grim as its name. I’d spent weeks practicing for it, staying up late with my guitar, rehearsing the song I’d planned to perform.

Music was my sanctuary, the one thing that made sense in a world that seemed determined to grind me down.

The night of the talent show, the school auditorium was packed. I felt the heat of the stage lights even behind the stage curtains.

Then, I feel it.

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

My heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest, but even still, I begin to walk onto stage.

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

I stand at the microphone, looking out into the crowd, no parents.

What a surprise...

I begin to sing, but with every verse, my heart quickens.

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

'Did it get really hot in here?'

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

I feel like I'm sweating bullets under this damn light.

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

My pulse is quicker, my voice is starting to waver...

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

Why are they looking at me like that...?

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

Stop...

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP*

"LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

Oh god.

I said that outloud....

*BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP* *BDUMP* *BDUMP**BDUMP*

The last thing I see before my panic attack.

Hundreds

Of people laughing...

-

I'm immediately pulled back into the present, thanks to Reed snapping his fingers in my face.

"Dude...you good?" Reed looked concerned, not wanting to worry him I reply.

"Yeah, just felt sick for a moment, I'm good don't worry"

Despite me trying to not worry him, the look in his eyes, tells me he didn't believe a word of it.

Realising the other two were staring as well, I took a minute to do my breathing exercises.

After a moment of calming myself down, i focused on what trish said about VVURM DRAMA being a two-bass band.

They were either incredibly skilled, or this was going to be a disaster."

I really hope it's the former...

"We like to do things differently. But don’t worry, we’re not just messing around. It’s a sound you won’t forget."

Despite feeling like it was a bad idea, I had faith in Reed, and so I answered, although apprehensive.

"Alright,"

I nodded, "I’ll be there."

"Cool," Reed said, clapping me on the shoulder.

"You won’t regret it, man."

As we finished lunch, I couldn’t help but wonder what I was in for.

A two-bass band?

Either way, it was bound to be an experience.

One that I wouldn't forget any time soon...

Chapter Text

I was halfway to science class when the PA system crackled to life.

"Anon Y Mous, please report to the principal's office immediately. Anon Y Mous, to the principal's office."

I froze mid-step, the blood draining from my face. I hadn’t even made it through my first day, and I was already getting called to the office?

I racked my brain for anything I might have done wrong, but all I could think about was how out of place I’d felt since the moment I stepped into Volcano High.

As I made my way down the hallway, I could feel the eyes of other students on me, their whispers following in my wake. My heart pounded in my chest as I pushed open the door to the principal’s office.

The room was surprisingly sparse, with only a few chairs, a desk, and the hulking figure of Principal Spears behind it. If there was ever a person who looked like they belonged in the Jurassic era, it was him.

He stood at least seven feet tall, built like a modern-day Neanderthal, with muscles that bulged under his shirt and a stern face that looked like it had been carved out of stone.

"Sit down," he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

I did as I was told, feeling like a kid about to get scolded. Principal Spears eyed me for a moment before leaning back in his chair.

"So, Anon, how’s your first day going? Made any friends yet?"

I blinked, thrown off by the question. "Uh, it's been… interesting," I managed to say. "Met a few people, yeah."

"Good, good," he nodded, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that didn’t match his casual tone.

"And how are you finding the school? Adjusting okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. It’s different, that’s for sure."

There was a pause, and then I couldn’t help myself.

"Why did you call me here, sir? Did I do something wrong?"

Principal Spears leaned forward, his gaze piercing.

"No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted to check in on you. New school, new environment, it can be tough. I’ve seen a lot of kids come through here, and I know the signs when someone’s struggling."

I felt a lump in my throat, but I forced it down.

"I’m fine."

Spears didn’t look convinced.

"I hope you'll excuse my prying Anon, but when i received your transfer request from your school in Rock Bottom, I may have made a few enquires, prior to the approval of your transfer request, and i've heard a few accounts of certain events that transpired."

Spears takes a deep breath and sips at a coffee cup on his desk, before beginning again.

"I wanted to allow you the chance to offer your account on some of the...more questionable events ive heard about, I won't ask for you to recount everything, however I must insist you tell me the truth, as depending on what you say, I may have to put in measures to ensure the safety of both student and staff faculties, so I'll ask you this only once Anon."

"Why did you attack a Mr Bishop Harrelson, whilst under the influence of medical grade Carfentanyl?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t told anyone about what happened in Rock Bottom, and I wasn’t about to start now. I looked away, staring at the floor.

"It’s personal, but i assure you sir, that it wasn'tby choice to have Carfe in my system, hell its damn right toxic for humans, I was lucky that it was a small dose, I admit i wanted to hurt him, but I swear I didn't push him off that railing"

As i say this, I have to bite back the tears and anger that are threatening to spill out of me.

Principal Spears watched me for a long moment searching for any sign of deception, then finally sighed.

"Alright, But know this, you’ve got a clean slate here. Don’t let the past, dictate your future."

I nodded, the words feeling heavy in my chest. As the conversation continued, I realised time had slipped away from me. I glanced at the clock and saw that my science class was almost over.

"Sorry to keep you for so long," Spears said, noticing my look.

"You’re free to go for the day. Head home and get some rest."

"Thanks," I said, standing up.

"But actually, I was going to check out VVURM DRAMAS’ practice before I head home."

Spears’ face softened slightly, but there was still that hint of concern in his eyes.

"Alright, just… take care of yourself, Anon."

I nodded and left the office, the weight of our conversation still hanging over me.

---

When I got to the auditorium, it was busier than I expected for a post-school band practice. The smell of pizza hit me before I even saw the stack of boxes near the entrance, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why so many people had shown up.

I found a spot near the back and settled in to wait, but before I could get too comfortable, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey, you’re Anon, right?"

I turned to see a guy about my age, with a long wingspan and a slightly awkward stance. He had the look of a Pterodactyl, sharp features, bright eyes, and a nervous energy that made him seem like he was ready to take off at any moment.

"Yeah, that’s me," I replied. "And you are?"

"Naser," he said, extending a hand. "Honor student, athlete, and, uh… well, bad with words, to be honest."

I shook his hand, taken aback by his straightforwardness.

"Nice to meet you, Naser."

"So, how’re you finding Volcano High?" Naser asked, trying to make conversation.

"It’s been… interesting," I said.

"Still getting used to it. Met some people, funnily enough all of the band that's about to play, Had a run in with the Stuco President too."

Naser’s face brightened as i mentioned the student council president.

"Naomi’s my girlfriend," he said proudly. "And I’m Fang’s brother, by the way."

That piqued my curiosity. "Fang’s your sister? What’s she like?"

Naser’s expression faltered, and he looked away, a pained look crossing his face. "We don’t really talk much," he admitted quietly.

Before I could ask more, his phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. "It’s Fang," he said, answering the call. "What’s up?"

From where I stood, I could hear the angry voice on the other end of the line, but I couldn’t make out the words. Naser’s face fell as he listened, and his wings drooped slightly.

"I, uh, brought pizza," he said into the phone. "To get a bigger crowd…"

Whatever Fang said next made him wince, and he quickly muttered, "Sorry," before she hung up on him. He sighed, turning back to me with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Fang’s… complicated."

"No worries," I replied, but I couldn’t shake the weird feeling I got from that exchange.

---

I didn’t have long to mull it over, though, because soon enough, the band started to take the stage.

The crowd quieted down as Trish, Reed, and Fang walked out, taking their places. Fang took centre stage, her face set in a determined expression.

"Alright, everyone!" Fang shouted into the mic, her voice echoing through the auditorium.

"We’re VVURM DRAMAS, and this is our first song, OJ didnt do it!"

She counted down, and then they launched into the most ear-piercing, dissonant mess of sound I’d ever heard.

The two bass guitars clashed horribly, creating a jarring noise that was more headache-inducing than anything else.

The drums were all over the place, and Fang’s voice, while strong, couldn’t save the cacophony that filled the room.

It was auditory hell.

Halfway through the first song, the crowd’s initial curiosity turned into open mockery. People started laughing, shouting insults at the band, and pulling out their phones to record the train wreck that was unfolding on stage.

The noise grew louder, more hostile, and I felt the familiar panic rising in my chest.

The same panic that had consumed me back in Rock Bottom, when I’d frozen on stage during the talent show.

But this wasn’t about me. This was about them, about Fang, Trish, and Reed. Sure, their music wasn’t great, but no one deserved to be treated like this.

I could see the sadness in their eyes, the way their confidence crumbled with every cruel word hurled their way.

And Fang… she was holding it together, but just barely. I knew that look—the look of someone on the edge, teetering between despair and rage.

As I watched, tears began to well up in her eyes, and she gritted her teeth, her voice breaking as she shouted into the mic.

"Fuck you all!" she screamed. "Go fuck yourselves!"

The crowd roared with laughter, but one voice cut through the noise, sneering and loud.

"No one would want to fuck you anyway, bitch!"

Something in me snapped.

I didn’t think, I just acted. I whirled around, spotting the guy who’d said it, and before he could react, I punched him square in the jaw.

He went down hard, shock written all over his face, but he was up again in an instant, his teeth bared as he prepared to fight back.

Before things could escalate further, the doors at the top of the auditorium slammed open, and Principal Spears stormed in, his voice booming across the room.

"EVERYONE OUT, NOW! UNLESS YOU WANNA BE SUPLEXED INTO AN EARLY GRAVE!"

The crowd scattered like a flock of frightened birds, tripping over themselves in their haste to get out. The band quickly left through the stage exit, and I stood there, breathing heavily, as Spears marched down the aisle, his eyes locking onto mine.

"Anon. Over here. Now," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I walked over, the guy I’d punched trailing behind me, clutching his jaw. Spears glared at us both, and I could feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

"You’re on thin ice, Anon," he growled.

"Punching another student on your first day? No matter the reason, it’s not acceptable."

I kept my mouth shut, still fuming but knowing better than to argue, he did warn me not even an hour ago in the office, so I could hardly blame him for his reaction.

"You," Spears said, turning to the other guy.

"You’re to come to my office tomorrow morning, now get off school property."

The guy shot me a glare but wisely kept his mouth shut as he hurried out of the auditorium. I stood there, waiting for the inevitable lecture, my fists still clenched at my sides.

Spears stared at me for a long moment, his expression a mix of disappointment and something else I couldn’t quite place.

"Anon, I get it" he finally said, his voice low.

"But violence is never the answer. You’ve got a lot of anger in you, and...to a point, I understand why, but you need to find a way of channeling it into something less destructive"

'Do I see a faint smirk on his face?' I think to myself.

"Which is why you're going to be joining the Gardening Club, the manual labour will do you some good."

I didn’t respond, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Spears sighed, rubbing his temples.

"You’re to attend all club meetings until further notice." he said.

I nodded stiffly, my mind still replaying the scene in my head. Spears pointed to the door.

"Go on, get out of here. But remember what I said, Anon, this is your clean slate. Don’t waste it."

I left the auditorium in a daze, the cool evening air hitting me as I stepped outside.

My mind was a whirlwind of emotions, anger, frustration, and a deep-seated sadness that I couldn’t shake.

The walk home was a blur, the events of the day playing over and over in my mind.

The looks on their faces, the laughter and insults, but...those eyes.

I hope Fang will be okay, wish I got Reed's number to check their all okay...

When I finally reached my apartment, I felt like I’d been through a war.

All I wanted to do was collapse on my bed and forget the day ever happened, but I couldn’t.

I still had work in an hour...

Sighing, I changed out of my school clothes and into my work uniform, the weight of the day pressing down on me.

The day wasn’t over yet.

Let's get this over with...

Chapter Text

The door creaked slightly as I stepped into my apartment, the familiar, faint scent of lingering food and cleaning supplies greeting me. I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes, feeling the weight of the day in my bones. 

My first day at Volcano High had been a disaster, and all I wanted now was to disappear into the comfort of my bed.

After a quick shower, I flopped onto my mattress, the cool sheets a relief against my skin. My mind replayed the events of the day, the sneers, the harsh words, Fang’s pain. 

My body tensed at the memory of that confrontation, of the anger that had erupted from within me. 

It had been a long time since I felt that fire, and it frightened me how easily it had come back.

Just as I placed my phone on the bedside table, it vibrated softly, the screen lighting up with a message. Reed’s name appeared, and I felt a twinge of guilt. 

He must’ve heard what happened.

*“Hey, Anon. U alright? Heard about what happened at school. Just checking in.”*

I stared at the message, the words blurring slightly as exhaustion washed over me. I typed back a quick reply, my fingers moving more slowly than usual.

*“I’m okay, just a rough day. What about you guys?”*

The response came almost immediately, as if Reed had been waiting for me to respond.

*“I’m fine, but Trish is pissed. She’s likely to be on the warpath tomorrow. As for Fang... I’m worried, man. I haven’t seen her this upset in a long time.”*

I paused, Reed’s concern heavy in my chest. I didn’t know Fang well, but I could guess how she was feeling. After all, I’d been in her shoes before, standing on a stage, facing a crowd that was eager to tear me down.

*“Maybe we could all meet up in the auditorium during lunch tomorrow? Try to talk things out.”* I suggested, hoping it might help. Reed’s response was swift.

*“That’s a good idea. I’ll message everyone and try to get us all together. I’m worried about Fang turning up, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”*

There was a moment of silence before another message popped up.

*“Thanks, Anon. You’re a cool guy, you know that? Twice you’ve stuck up for me now, and the second time, you defended my friends too. It means a lot.”*

I smiled faintly at his words, feeling a warmth that pushed back the chill of the day’s events. I typed a quick reply, feeling the exhaustion pulling me under.

*“Thanks, Reed. See you tomorrow.”*

As I set my phone aside, I let out a long breath, my body sinking further into the mattress. 

Despite the lingering worries, sleep found me eventually, pulling me into its embrace.

---

The next morning, I awoke to the grey light of dawn filtering through my blinds. My body still felt heavy, but I forced myself out of bed, knowing that skipping school wasn’t an option. My morning routine passed in a blur, shower, dress, grab a quick bite, and I was out the door, heading toward Volcano High.

As I walked, my thoughts drifted back to the previous night. I hoped Reed had managed to get everyone on board for the lunchtime meet-up. 

Maybe, just maybe, we could start to mend what had been broken.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice when I passed by a music store, its window displaying a collection of guitars that made me stop in my tracks. Among them, one stood out.

A stunning ESP E-II FRX, matte black with a nebula of colours swirling around the centre. It was magnificent, and for a moment, I could almost see myself playing it, the feel of the strings under my fingers, the thrill of creating music again.

But reality hit hard. I wasn’t in a position to afford something like that. I wasn’t even sure how I’d manage the next few weeks, let alone buy a guitar. 

The thought stung, but I forced myself to look away, to keep walking. 

There was no point in dwelling on what I couldn’t have.

As I continued, my path took me through the park where I’d busked the previous Friday. The place was quieter this early in the morning, the grass still damp with dew. 

My gaze wandered, taking in the peaceful scene, until I spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench, a cigarette in hand.

Fang.

She sat there, her wings folded around her like a protective shield, a plume of smoke rising from the cigarette between her fingers. 

She looked as lost as I felt, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I should approach. 

But Reed’s words from last night echoed in my mind, and before I knew it, I was walking toward her.

---

As I neared the bench, I forced myself to break the silence, trying to sound casual.

“Y’know, those things’ll kill you,” I said, gesturing to the cigarette in her hand.

Fang glanced at me, her expression unreadable, before she replied with a sarcastic, “Oh really?”

I pulled out a pack of cigarettes of my own, holding it up for her to see. She chuckled softly at the sight, the tension between us easing just a fraction.

“Mind if I sit?” I asked, suddenly feeling awkward. Fang seemed to hesitate, as if considering some reason to say no, but then she sighed and nodded.

“Sure.”

I sat down next to her, the bench creaking slightly under our weight. 

I hadn’t really thought this through, what to say, how to comfort her, but before I could stumble through an awkward attempt at conversation, Fang spoke first.

“Sorry.”

The word caught me off guard, and I turned to her, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“About last Friday,” she said, her voice low. 

“I was pretty rude to flip you off like that. Thought you were just some guy eyeing me up like a piece of meat.”

Realization dawned on me, and I shook my head quickly. 

“No, it’s… it’s fine. In your defence, I was looking at you for an awkward amount of time, so I get it.”

Fang actually smiled at that, a small, genuine smile that softened her usual hard-edged expression. But the smile faded as she continued, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“I heard you punched the asshole who was talking shit to me yesterday...Why stick up for me?” she asked, her voice curious, but with a hint of vulnerability that she was trying hard to hide.

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. 

Finally, I decided to be honest, showing a bit of the weakness I usually kept hidden.

“I know what it’s like, being on a stage with people laughing and staring at you. It’s scary enough being in front of people like that, especially without awful fuckers like them in the crowd. 

When I saw it happening to Reed and you guys, I guess I just…snapped.”

Fang seemed taken aback by my words, her expression shifting from curiosity to something softer, almost understanding. 

She looked at me for a long moment before playfully punching me on the shoulder.

“Guess you ain’t so bad after all.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest at her words. 

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

We fell into a comfortable silence after that, the conversation easing into idle chatter about nothing in particular. 

For the first time since yesterday, I felt a bit of the tension in my chest loosen. Fang was still hurting, but she was letting me in, even if just a little.

As we talked, I glanced at the time and realized we needed to get moving if we didn’t want to be late. I stood up, looking down at Fang who still seemed reluctant to leave the safety of the bench.

“Don’t worry about those assholes from yesterday,” I said, trying to reassure her. 

“They’ve probably got goldfish memory and will forget about it by lunch. And if they haven’t, I’m sure Trish’ll scare ‘em straight.”

Fang snickered at that, but there was still hesitation in her eyes. 

She stood up slowly, her wings twitching slightly, before she walked ahead of me suddenly.

“Hurry up, dweeb,” she called over her shoulder, a hint of her usual confidence returning. 

“I wanna have at least another smoke before math class.”

I smiled to myself as I followed her, silently admiring her strength, even if it was still a bit shaky. As we walked, my mind wandered to the past, to what might have happened if I’d been as strong-willed as Fang back in Rock Bottom. 

But that was a different life, and this was now.

We continued walking, our conversation light and easy, until we reached the school steps. Standing there, waiting for us, was a surprised pink raptor and an even more surprised purple triceratops.

Trish was the first to speak, her voice tinged with concern as she approached Fang.

“Hey, Fang, you doing okay?” she asked, clearly still worried.

Fang nodded, giving Trish a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m doing better now. Sorry about the radio silence. I promise I’m alright.”

While they talked, I caught sight of Reed approaching me, a wide smile on his face.

“Dude,” Reed said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation, 

“can’t stop helping people, can you? I knew you were a cool guy the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I smirked, a little embarrassed by the compliment. 

“I didn’t really do anything special. Just talked to Fang, and she pretty much helped herself.”

Reed’s smile didn’t falter. 

“Maybe, but it’s still something. Sometimes just being there is all that matters.” 

He patted me on the back, his usual energy seeming a bit more subdued, yet sincere.

Before I could reply, the shrill ring of the school bell echoed through the courtyard, signalling that classes would start soon. 

Trish, still in conversation with Fang, turned toward us, her expression one of reluctant acceptance. She gave Fang a final hug, promising to catch up with her at lunch, before heading off to her first class.

Fang and I exchanged a brief look, and though she didn’t say anything, the gratitude in her eyes was clear.

She nodded once, then made her way toward the entrance, Reed and Trish flanking her as if forming a protective barrier against the world.

I stood there for a moment, watching them go, before heading in the opposite direction toward my English class. 

The halls were already filling up with students, the familiar buzz of conversation filling the air. As I walked, I felt a strange sense of calm. 

The day had barely begun, but something about that morning made me feel like, maybe, things were starting to change, for the better.

As I entered the classroom and took my seat, the teacher began the lesson, but my thoughts were still with Fang and the others. The day was far from over, and the real test would come at lunch. 

I could only hope that the small steps we’d taken this morning would lead to something bigger, something that might just help all of us get through the storm together.

---

English class was as dull as ever. 

The teacher droned on about poetic structure, but my mind kept wandering. 

Maybe it was the lingering tension from earlier, or the fact that Naomi kept trying to catch my eye with that syrupy sweet smile of hers. Something about it seemed off, like she was trying a bit too hard. 

I spent most of the class avoiding her gaze, focusing instead on the clock, willing the hands to move faster. 

When the bell finally rang, I bolted from the room and made my way to Maths. As I rounded the corner, I spotted Reed and Trish deep in conversation by the lockers.

Trish was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, while Reed animatedly gestured with his hands.

“Hey,” I called out, walking over to them. “You guys heading to Maths?”

Trish looked up, her expression brightening when she saw me. 

“Yeah, we’re just talking about…” She trailed off, giving Reed a knowing look.

“Nothing important,” Reed added quickly, grinning. 

“Just the usual nonsense.”

We all started walking together, slipping into easy conversation about the most mundane things—homework, the weather, anything that didn’t involve yesterday’s events.

As we entered the classroom, I instinctively began heading toward the desk I had occupied the previous day, when Trish’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“What? Too cool to sit with us weirdos now?” she teased, her tone light and sarcastic.

I paused mid-step, then turned to her with a smirk. 

“Nah, just didn’t want to cramp your style.”

“Please,” Trish scoffed playfully, 

“I’m used to carrying the cool factor around here.”

I chuckled and took the empty seat beside her, Reed settling in on her other side.

As the teacher handed out the workbooks, the three of us fell into a rhythm of idle chatter, cracking jokes and exchanging witty banter while half-heartedly completing the assignments.

After a while, though, Trish grew quiet. The change in her demeanor was subtle but noticeable. 

I glanced over at her, concern furrowing my brow. 

“You okay?” I asked softly.

"Sorry...about friday"

She hesitated, then opened her mouth to continue, but I cut her off, already guessing what was on her mind. 

“It’s cool, Trish,” I said, offering a reassuring smile. 

“Water under the bridge, right?”

Trish looked surprised at how easily I brushed it off, but then a relieved smile spread across her face. 

“Thanks, Anon. I’m glad we’re…cool.” She extended her hand with a grin. 

“Let’s start again. I’m Trish, future rockstar in the making.”

I took her hand in a firm shake. 

“Anon, just trying to survive another day.”

She laughed at that, the tension easing between us as we returned to our lighthearted banter. 

When class finally ended, we gathered our things and headed out together, our footsteps echoing down the hallway as we made our way toward the auditorium for lunch.

As we walked, Reed fired off a quick text to Fang, his fingers flying over the keys. Within seconds, his phone buzzed with a reply, and he let out a laugh. 

“They're on their way. Just grabbing some chicken nuggies.”

I chuckled at the image of Fang with a tray full of nuggets, knowing it would likely be an amusing sight. 

The three of us continued to the auditorium, where we found a spot on the stage and settled in to wait for Fang.

---

It didn’t take long for Fang to arrive. True to form, she walked into the auditorium, balancing a small tray of chicken nuggets while munching on one. 

The sight was so oddly endearing that I couldn’t help but laugh, earning a smirk from her in return.

Once we’d all finished eating, the conversation naturally turned to the show from the previous day. Trish, ever the band leader, was the first to bring it up.

“So, about the show yesterday…” she began, her voice tinged with frustration. 

“I’ve been thinking about where we went wrong.”

We all grimaced at the memory, the echoes of boos and jeers still fresh in our minds. Trish started analyzing their performance, talking through the flaws she perceived and what could be improved next time. I noticed Fang flinch slightly at the mention of their mistakes but remained silent.

Then, Reed chimed in. 

“Why don’t we ask Anon? He saw us firsthand, so if anyone’s got an idea of what went wrong, it’s him.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on me. I swallowed, trying to gauge how honest I should be. 

I didn’t want to hurt their feelings, but I also knew that sugar-coating the truth wouldn’t help them get better.

“Uh, well,” I started, choosing my words carefully, 

“I think the two-bass setup is…unique, but unless it’s being done by professionals, it’s really hard to master. Maybe if one of you switched to guitar, the sound would be more balanced. Rhythm seems to be your strong suit, so that might help a lot.”

Trish’s expression turned a bit defensive. 

“We just need more time to practice. We can make it work,” she insisted, her voice a touch stubborn.

Not wanting to escalate things, I quickly offered a compromise. 

“How about this, we do a practice session with just us. You try the electric guitar, and if it sounds bad, no harm done. If it works, then great, you’ve got another option.”

Fang, who had been quiet until now, nodded in agreement. 

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I’ll bring my guitar tomorrow, and we’ll give it a shot.”

Reed nodded along. “Yeah, I’m in.”

Trish looked between us, realizing she was outnumbered. With a reluctant sigh, she conceded. 

“Fine, we’ll try it.”

The tension eased after that, and we fell into more idle chatter, laughing and joking as the minutes ticked by. 

It was comfortable, a stark contrast to the anxiety that had clouded the past few days.

---

Just as we were about to wrap up our conversation, Fang turned to me with a curious look. 

“So, what do you play?”

I nearly choked on my drink, caught off guard by the question. Reed gave me a pat on the back, trying to help.

Fang continued, not letting me off the hook. 

“C’mon, dude, me and Trish saw you with a microphone and guitar in the park the other day. Plus, you told me you knew what being on a stage was like. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

I tried to brush it off, giving quick, dismissive answers. 

“Oh, just basic stuff on my electric guitar. I do a little singing too, but I’m not very good…”

Fang rolled her eyes at my lame attempt to change the subject. 

“C’mon, dweeb. You’ve heard us, now let us hear you. We don’t have instruments with us, but the microphone’s still there from yesterday. We promise we won’t be mean or be assholes, swear.”

She gave me a serious look, her sincerity clear in her eyes. I hesitated, my fight-or-flight instincts screaming at me to just grab my backpack and leave. 

But then I remembered the look of determination on Fang’s face when she faced those who ridiculed her. 

If she could be strong, then so could I.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and fished my phone out of my pocket, finding the prerecorded instrumental track I had made for a song I wrote.

The last song i wrote before I left Rock Bottom. 

I walked up to the microphone, testing it briefly as Reed adjusted the volume, flashing me a toothy grin and a thumbs up.

With one final deep breath, I took a quick sip of water to steady my nerves, and then.

I began to sing.

The grip of darkness, s'all l've ever known
No matter how dark, it won't let me go
Dreaming of your glow .. but i'm dreaming alone
Follow in your light, as a shadow.

-

So black, black as it can be
The darkest shade that I can go
It's deeper than the dark sea
Like a black, black sorrow
A story of such woe
The ending is a tragedy,
A hollow dream
Bloodied and black as can be
Without you

-

Won't you look at me? I dream of it
The brush of your fingertips
Eternally waiting to be your sunlight
But as infrared can't be seen
A black hole has its gravity
Holding you forever

-

So black, black as it can be
The darkest shade that I can go
It's deeper than the dark sea
Like a black black sorrow
A story of such woe
The ending is a tragedy,
A hollow dream
Bloodied and black as can be

-

Such--Black, black sorrow,
That's what you are
I'm begging don't let me go
Black sorrow
Don't let me go
Black sorrow
Don't let me go
Black sorrow

As the last notes of the song faded into the empty auditorium, silence hung in the air. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for their reaction, convinced I’d messed up somehow.

“Sorry,” I blurted out, trying to fill the silence. 

“Told you I’m not very good. It’s been a while since I sang any—”

Before I could finish, they all erupted into cheers, Fang leading the charge with an enthusiastic fist pump.

“Holy shit, Anon!” Fang exclaimed, stepping closer.

“That was incredible! I’ve never heard anything like that before. Sure, the song sounded sad, but it was… it was fucking amazing!”

Reed let out a playful wolf whistle, grinning from ear to ear, while Trish nodded in agreement, looking genuinely impressed.

I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but also relief. They had liked it, really liked it. 

I scratched the back of my head, trying to hide my smile, but it was impossible not to feel a swell of pride at their reactions.

“Thanks,” 

I mumbled, still a bit overwhelmed by their praise. 

The three of them started bombarding me with questions, asking how I got so good, whether I really wrote the song and the instrumentals, and what else I could play. 

For the first time since arriving at Volcano High, I felt like maybe, just maybe.

I’d found a place where I could finally belong.

Chapter Text

The laughter and conversation from the group slowly faded as we all caught our breath. It was a moment of levity, a brief reprieve from the heavier thoughts that weighed on my mind. 

I glanced at the others, feeling a sense of camaraderie, but there was still the lingering issue of yesterday's fight hanging over me. 

As the silence settled in, Trish figured it was time to address what happened yesterday. 

“So, about yesterday,” she began, trying to keep her tone casual, but the seriousness was impossible to hide.

Reed raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the stage. 

“What about it? You get in trouble or something?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a sigh, running a hand over the back of my head. 

“Got sentenced to something alright. Turns out I’m now a permanent member of the gardening club. Have to show up every weekend until the end of the year.”

Reed, Trish, and Fang exchanged looks, their faces all contorting into identical expressions of sympathy that screamed 

‘Poor guy.’

Fang was the first to break the silence. 

“That’s a rough sentence… I’ve had to spend a few detentions in those gardens,” she said, trying to sound empathetic, though I caught the slight smugness in her tone. 

“It wouldn’t be so bad if Rosa wasn’t such a damn slave driver though. I certainly can’t say I envy you, Anon.”

I rolled my eyes at her, unable to resist giving a little jab back. 

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you there sometime,” I said smugly.

Fang squinted at me, suspicion clouding her gaze. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Fang,” 

I replied with a knowing smile.

“I’ve known you all of a couple days, and I already know you’re a frequent flier in detention.”

She shot me a look and jabbed me in the side with her elbow, her feathers tickling my ribs. 

“Wowww, rude, Anon.”

Before I could defend myself, Reed and Trish, as if reading each other’s minds, spoke up at the same time, their voices laced with playful amusement. 

“He’s not wrong, to be fair, Fang.”

Their synchronized agreement seemed to wound Fang more than my teasing, and she gave them both an exaggerated, betrayed look. 

We all burst into a belly-aching laugh, the sound echoing through the empty auditorium. Even Fang, who initially tried to maintain her glare, cracked up eventually, unable to resist the infectious humour of the situation.

We were still recovering from our laughter when my phone buzzed in my pocket. 

I initially planned to ignore it, but curiosity got the better of me, and I glanced at the screen. My breath caught slightly when I saw who the message was from.

Stegostar.

The reminder of our unresolved tension made my stomach twist. They had promised to talk to me on Monday, but after messaging them multiple times and getting nothing but silence, I’d nearly given up.

The only reason I even knew they’d seen my messages was when they accidentally read one of them without replying.

With a mix of irritation and cautious hope, I opened the message. Stegostar had finally apologised for not messaging sooner, explaining they had to deal with something.

I rolled my eyes at the vague excuse but decided to play it cool.

“Don’t worry about it,” I typed back. 

“What’s up?”

The reply came almost instantly. 

“Are you doing anything later?”

I stared at the message, conflicted. A part of me wanted to be distant, but another part just wanted things to go back to normal. I decided to keep it simple.

“Not really. It’s a day off for me; work doesn’t need me tonight. Why? Wanna have a watch party or something?”

There was a brief pause before Stegostar’s next message arrived. 

“Uh yeah, sure, sounds good. See you later, Anon!”

As I read the message, I noticed something odd. The last line had been edited from “see you later” to “talk to you later.” 

It was a small change, but it felt significant. Maybe they were just needlessly correcting themselves, I thought, dismissing it with a shrug. 

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, just in time for the lunch period to come to an end.

“So, what classes do you guys have next?” I asked, trying to shift back into the flow of conversation.

“To your surprise, Fang replied.

“I’ve got Science with Mr Fernsworth next.”

I smiled at that. 

“Oh cool, same here. Wanna walk together?”

Fang seemed up for it, so after saying goodbye to Trish and Reed, we headed out of the auditorium, making our way through the bustling hallways. 

As we walked, we fell into an easy conversation, chatting about music and other nonchalant topics.

“So, what kind of music are you into?” Fang asked, her tone casual but curious.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing my taste was a bit all over the place. 

“It’s kind of all over the map, really. I like a lot of different stuff.”

Fang shot me a sideways glance, her eyebrow quirked in disbelief. 

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I listen to everything’ types.”

I chuckled at that, shrugging. 

“I mean, kind of? It’s hard to pin down. I like rock & metal mostly, but I’ve got a soft spot for some weird, experimental stuff too.”

Fang rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. 

“Weird and experimental, huh? We’ll have to re-educate you, help save you before it’s too late.”

Her teasing tone made me laugh, and I shook my head. 

“Good luck with that.”

Before I knew it, we arrived at the Science classroom. Fang and I walked in together, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure if she had someone she usually sat with.

She noticed my hesitation and nudged me with her elbow. 

“Dude, me, Trish, and Reed are the weird kids. Talking and hanging around us is social suicide, so you’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

I gave her a mock-serious look, a grin playing on my lips. 

“Is it too late to make new friends?”

Another well-placed elbow jab found my side, and I winced, laughing despite the pain. 

“Sorry, dweeb, no dice,” she replied with a smirk.

Something about that smirk made me pause. The light teasing, the comfortable banter, it all gave me a strange feeling, one I couldn’t quite place.

It was like a warmth spreading through my chest, making me momentarily forget everything else. But I quickly shook it off, reminding myself that we were just friends.

Fang noticed me zoning out and waved her hand in front of my face. 

“Helloooooo? Anyone in there?” She knocked on my head like it was a door, her knuckles rapping against my skull.

I flinched, realising how close she was, and felt my cheeks heat up. 

“Sorry about that,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. 

“In a world of my own, I guess.”

Fang smirked, clearly amused by my embarrassment. 

“You’re a weird one, Anon.”

Before I could respond, Mr Fernsworth walked in, and the class began. Fang and I focused on the lesson, diligently taking notes and working through the assignments. 

It was surprisingly easy to concentrate, the earlier tension between us replaced by a comfortable rhythm.

At one point, Fang nudged me gently, pulling me from my focus. I glanced over to see her pointing at a question she was struggling with, her expression, pleading for help.

I couldn’t help but smile as I subtly rotated my paper so she could see my answers, allowing her to copy them.

Class eventually ended, and as we walked out into the hallway, Fang glanced over at me with a grateful smile. 

“Thanks, dweeb. Wasn’t sure my grades could take too many more hits. How come you knew so much?”

I shrugged modestly. 

“I’m a bit of a science nerd in my free time. I even had a theremin when I was a kid because I was fascinated with sound waves. It’s actually how I got into playing guitar in the first place.”

As I spoke, I noticed how intently Fang was listening, her eyes focused on me with genuine interest. 

It was… nice. Most people would have tuned out by now, but Fang seemed to care about what I had to say, even when I went on a nerdy rant. I really appreciated that.

“Speaking of music,” I said, transitioning smoothly, 

“it’s my next class. Catch you later, Fang.”

But Fang had a slight smirk on her face as she responded. 

“Not getting rid of me that easily, dweeb. Nice try.”

I blinked in confusion, trying to figure out what she meant. 

Then it clicked.

she played guitar and was in a band.

Of course, she had music next too. I felt a bit dumb for not realising sooner and fought the urge to facepalm at my own stupidity.

“Right,” I muttered, feeling a bit sheepish. “Of course.”

We walked to the music room together, the journey taking no time at all. After about ten minutes of waiting, our teacher, Mr Jingo, finally arrived, apologising profusely for being late. 

He quickly told us that it was a free session and encouraged us to be creative, giving us the freedom to explore whatever musical ideas we wanted.

---

The music room buzzed with the chaotic energy of a free session. Groups of students clustered around various instruments, experimenting with different sounds, rhythms, and melodies. 

The room was filled with the clatter of drums, the hum of bass guitars, and the occasional shrill note from a keyboard. It was the kind of noise that felt more like freedom than disorder, a space where creativity was the only rule.

Fang and I found a spot in the corner, away from the loudest groups. 

She picked up her bass with a practised ease, while I grabbed an electric guitar that had seen better days. 

It wasn’t much to look at, but it had a decent sound, and that was all I needed.

“So,” Fang said, plucking a few experimental notes on her bass.

“what kind of stuff do you usually play?”

I shrugged, tuning the guitar strings until they felt just right. 

“A bit of everything, really. I usually mess around with rock and metal a lot, but lately, I’ve been getting into more bluesy, experimental stuff.”

Fang nodded, clearly interested. 

“Let’s hear it then.”

Without further prompting, I started playing a riff that had been bouncing around in my head for a while. It was simple but catchy, a mix of blues scales and distorted power chords that gave it a gritty, raw edge.

Fang listened intently, her fingers moving along the fretboard of her bass, testing out different rhythms to match what I was playing.

“Not bad, dweeb,” she said with a smirk, her tail flicking behind her as she got into the groove. 

“But check this out!.”

She launched into a bass line that was both intricate and powerful, the kind of rhythm that made your bones vibrate with the sheer intensity of it. 

I couldn’t help but be impressed. Fang was good.

 REALLY good. 

Her fingers moved with a precision that spoke of years of practice, and the sound she produced was deep, resonant, and full of life.

“Damn, that’s sick,” I said, genuinely admiring her skill. 

“You write that yourself?”

“Yeah,” Fang replied, clearly pleased with the reaction. 

“Been working on it for a while now. It’s for a song I’m writing with the band.”

I nodded, keeping the rhythm going on my guitar. 

“What’s the song about?”

Fang hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking away as she considered how much to reveal. 

“It’s… kind of personal,” she said eventually, her voice softer than before. 

“But it’s mostly about feeling like you don’t fit in, like you’re always on the outside looking in, you know?”

Her words struck a chord with me. I knew exactly what she meant. 

The feeling of being an outsider, of not quite belonging anywhere, that was something I could relate to. 

I met her gaze, giving her a small nod of understanding.

“Yeah, I get that,” I said quietly. 

Fang’s eyes softened slightly, the usual sharpness of her expression easing into something more contemplative. 

For a moment, we just played, letting the music speak for us. The rhythm of her bass and the melody of my guitar intertwined, creating a sound that was both melancholic and hopeful, a reflection of the emotions we were both carrying.

We continued jamming for a while, trading riffs and experimenting with different sounds. 

Fang showed me some of the music she’d been working on, but when she handed me the sheet music, I was completely out of my depth.

“I can’t read this,” I admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Fang grinned, clearly enjoying my discomfort. 

“Seriously? You’ve been playing guitar for how long, and you never learned to read music?”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. 

“What can I say? I’m a rebel.”

She laughed at that, the sound light and genuine. 

“More like a lazy dweeb, but sure, let’s go with that.”

We spent most of the session goofing off, throwing ideas back and forth, and just enjoying the freedom to create without any pressure. 

It was one of those rare moments where everything just clicked, where the music flowed effortlessly, and for a little while, I forgot about everything else.

The familiar hum of the music room surrounded us as Fang and I settled back into our jam session. 

The chaos of earlier had died down, and now it was just the two of us, lost in our own little world of melodies and rhythms. 

Fang was strumming her bass, effortlessly moving through a new progression, while I was noodling on the electric guitar, trying to keep up with her creativity.

After a while, though, I felt the call of nature. I set my guitar down and nudged Fang’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Nature calls.”

Fang gave me a nod, her focus still on the music. 

“Don’t take too long, dweeb. I’ll keep the guitar warm for you.”

I shot her a grin before heading over to Mr Jingo, who was busy sorting through a pile of sheet music at his desk.

“Mr Jingo, can I grab the hall pass? Need to hit the bathroom,” I asked.

Without looking up, he gestured to a corner of the room where something odd caught my eye. 

Resting on a stand was a full-sized acoustic guitar, but it wasn’t any ordinary guitar. 

It had “HALL PASS” burned into the wood in bold, charred letters.

“That’s the hall pass?” I asked, surprised.

Mr Jingo finally looked up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. 

“Yep. Makes it a bit harder for students to ‘misplace’ it, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded, half-amused, half-impressed by the creativity. 

“Yeah, I guess it would. No one’s walking out of here with that thing unnoticed.”

Grabbing the guitar, I slung the strap over my shoulder and made my way out of the music room, trying not to feel too ridiculous. 

The weight of the instrument was a bit more than I was used to, but I figured it was better than some flimsy laminated pass.

The halls were mostly empty, the usual after-class buzz having died down as students settled into their last lessons of the day. 

I made my way to the bathroom, pushed open the door, and quickly took care of business.

As I was washing my hands, I heard the door creak open. 

A chill ran down my spine before I even turned around, a gut feeling that something was very wrong. 

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to the mirror and saw the reflection of the last person I wanted to encounter.

It was the asshole who had been harassed Fang in thee auditorium.

He was a towering figure, easily over six feet, with the unmistakable features of a hybrid, a mix of some dino species Iwasnt familiar with.

With the unmistakable jaw and facial structure of a Tyrannosaurus. 

His reptilian eyes glinted with malice as he grinned, showing far too many teeth.

“Oh shit,” 

I muttered under my breath, my heart racing.

He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. 

“Thought I could smell a spear chucker in here,” he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl.

“That was a nice punch you threw yesterday, but we didn’t get to finish what you started, did we? Well... let’s pick up where we left off, skinnie!”

Without warning, he lunged at me, and instinct took over. I barely managed to dodge his first swing, but his size and strength were overwhelming.

It was like trying to fight off a freight train with nothing but my bare hands. 

I threw a few punches, trying to aim for any potential vulnerable spots, but it was no use. 

He was too strong.

He grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of me. 

“You think you’re tough, huh? Throwing punches like you’re some kind of hero?” he snarled, his grip tightening. 

“Well, let’s see how tough you are now.”

The next few moments were a blur of pain. His fists rained down on me.

My face, my ribs, my gut. 

I could feel the bruises forming, the old injuries from the previous week’s fight when I helped Reed flaring up with a vengeance. 

It was all I could do to stay conscious, the world spinning as the beating continued.

'Stop it,' I thought to myself, my vision blurring. 

“Just...stop.”

But he didn’t. He kept hitting me, each punch accompanied by a new slur, a new insult. 

It was the kind of cruelty that went beyond physical pain, it was designed to break me.

 To make me feel small and worthless.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he leaned in close, his breath hot and rancid against my ear. 

“Don’t worry, skinnie. You ain’t the only one on my shit list. That Ptero’s next. She seems feisty. I like that…”

Something snapped inside me. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly, I wasn’t in control anymore. 

The thought of him hurting Fang.

Of doing to her what he was doing to me, was more than I could bear. 

A surge of adrenaline flooded my system, giving me a strength I didn’t know I had.

With a guttural roar, I thrashed under him, using every ounce of energy to push him off me. 

He was still on top, but I managed to wriggle enough to reach out, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon.

And then I saw it. 

The guitar.

Without thinking, I grabbed the neck of the acoustic guitar, Mr Jingo’s hall pass, and swung it with all my might. 

The wood cracked against the side of his jaw with a sickening crunch, the force of the blow sending him reeling back.

“Damn, hit him in the same place two days in a row,”

 I thought to myself, a wild grin spreading across my face despite the situation.

But the moment of triumph was short-lived. 

The hybrid wasn’t down for the count. 

He slowly pushed himself up, blood streaming down his face, his eyes blazing with rage. 

He looked at me with the kind of fury that only a predator could muster, the kind that promised death.

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU SKINNIE' FUCK!” 

He roared, pulling back his fist to deliver what I knew would be the final, devastating blow.

I braced myself, knowing there was no way I could avoid it. 

But just as he was about to strike, something.

No.

Someone.

Slammed into him from the side, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing into one of the bathroom stalls.

“Reed!” I gasped, shocked but incredibly relieved.

Reed offered a hand out to me.

“FUCKING BOOK IT ANON!”

He shouted, his voice strained with effort.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Ignoring the pain shooting through my body, I scrambled to my feet and bolted out of the bathroom, adrenaline the only thing keeping me going. 

Reed was right behind me, but we didn’t get far before we ran into Mr Spears, who was storming down the hallway.

His blazer gone and his sleeves rolled up, looking every bit like a man on a mission. 

Fang was trailing behind him, her expression a mix of worry and fury.

“What the hell happened?!” 

Spears demanded, his eyes narrowing as he took in my bruised and battered appearance.

“Bathroom... fight,” 

I managed to choke out, still trying to catch my breath. 

“That guy...he attacked me. Reed, he saved me.”

Spears’ eyes flashed with anger. 

“Head to my office, both of you. Wait for me there. I’ll deal with this.”

I nodded, too exhausted to argue. As Reed and I turned to leave, I saw Spears stride into the bathroom, his entire demeanor radiating barely contained fury. 

Fang followed us, and I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort knowing she was close.

We didn’t make it far before the Neanderthal’s primal roar echoed through the hallway, a sound so filled with rage and fear that it sent shivers down my spine. 

I glanced back at Fang, who was covering her ears, her expression one of both satisfaction and concern.

“Let’s go,” Reed muttered, pulling me along.

We made our way to Mr Spears’ office, the adrenaline slowly wearing off and leaving me with nothing but pain and exhaustion. 

As we sat in the chairs in his office, waiting for whatever was going to happen next, I couldn’t help but wonder how much worse this day could possibly get.

But even through the pain and fear, there was a small part of me that felt a strange sense of satisfaction. 

For the first time in a long time, I hadn’t just taken the hits. I’d fought back. 

And maybe...

I was starting to find my strength.

But the question remained.

 What was gonna happen next?

---

The three of us, Reed, Fang, and I, sat in the quiet tension of Mr Spears’ office. 

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the room’s worn furniture. 

My body still ached from the fight, and my heart was racing from the adrenaline, but I tried to keep my breathing steady. 

Fang was sitting across from me, her wings tucked in close to her body.

Reed was next to me, his feathers slightly ruffled, likely from both the physical confrontation and the stress of the situation.

Breaking the silence, I turned to Fang, my voice tinged with curiosity and appreciation. 

“How did you know what was happening? You showed up just in time.”

Fang shifted slightly in her seat, looking a bit uncomfortable. 

She glanced down at her talons, avoiding eye contact.

 “Well, you were taking a while, and normally, I would’ve assumed you were skipping or messing around somewhere, but you didn’t say anything like that before you left. Something just felt off, so I snuck out of class to check on you.”

She paused, finally meeting my gaze, her expression conflicted. 

“When I got closer to the bathroom, I heard that asshole’s voice... and I knew he was doing something to you. I’m sorry I didn’t step in right away, but I thought it’d be better to get help. Spears’ office wasn’t far, so I ran and told him.”

She looked away again, her voice softening with regret. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Anon. Maybe if I’d stepped in sooner...”

There was a moment of silence.

Fang’s words hanging heavy in the air. I could see the guilt in her eyes, the way she was second-guessing her decision, even though it was definitely the right one.

“Hey, Fang,” I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. 

“You did what was best, If you’d tried to jump in alone, who knows what might’ve happened. I’m glad you got Spears. He’s... well, terrifying in the best possible way.”

Fang looked up at me, a small, unsure smile tugging at the corners of her beak. But the worry was still there, etched into her expression. 

“Are you okay, though?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern. 

“Sorry, that’s a stupid question. Of course, you’re not okay.”

I let out a small chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, definitely not winning any beauty contests today. But hey, at least I didn’t lose any teeth, right? Could’ve been worse. Plus, Reed showed up like a feathered linebacker. I think I’m starting to think...me and you attract trouble Reed.”

That got a small laugh out of both Reed and Fang, and the tension in the room eased just a little. 

I was still hurting, but at least now, the worry in Fang’s eyes had softened.

The door to the office creaked open, and we all looked up as Mr Spears walked in, his face a mask of calm fury.

 He didn’t sit down right away, just stood there for a moment, staring at us as if trying to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he let out a deep sigh and sat down behind his desk. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. 

“All right. I need to hear everyone’s account of what happened. Let’s start with you, Anon.”

I recounted the events as best as I could, explaining how the guy had cornered me in the bathroom, how the situation escalated, and how I had defended myself when things got bad. 

Reed chimed in next, describing how he was heading to the bathroom before he’d heard the commotion and decided to intervene. 

Lastly, Fang added her side of the story, explaining why she had gone to get Spears and how she felt it was the safest course of action.

Spears listened intently, nodding occasionally but saying nothing. When we finished, he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“Thank you all for your honesty,” he said, his voice measured. 

“This is a serious situation, and I need to make sure it’s handled properly. Anon, I’m sorry you had to go through that. You did what you had to do to defend yourself, and I’ll make sure that’s reflected in my report.”

He turned to Reed and Fang. 

“You both did well, Fang, for getting help, and Reed, for stepping in when things got out of hand. But next time, make sure you’re not putting yourselves at unnecessary risk.”

We all nodded, the weight of his words sinking in.

“Now,” Spears continued, “I need to have a word with the authorities and his parents, Anon if you want to press charges we can talk about it when you've decided on what you wish to do. In the meantime, I want you all to go home and rest. I’ll be in touch with your parents or guardians to explain the situation.”

With that, he dismissed us, and we slowly got up, the exhaustion from the day’s events finally catching up to us. 

As we left the office, I felt a sense of relief but also a lingering unease. 

Things had gotten way too close for comfort, and I couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

But for now, I was just grateful to have friends like Reed and Fang by my side.

---

After getting checked over by the school nurse, it was a relief to find out that nothing was broken, just badly bruised, which was to be expected given how hard the Tyrannosaurus hybrid had hit me. 

Reed, always the reliable friend, offered to take me home, and I gratefully accepted. 

My entire body ached, and the thought of walking back to my apartment on my own was less than appealing.

As we headed out of the school, Fang and Reed flanked me, their presence a reassuring comfort. 

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the school grounds, and the day felt like it had stretched on forever. 

We were almost to Reed’s van when a voice called out from behind us.

“Anon! Hey, Anon, wait up!”

I turned around, blinking in surprise. 

A stegosaurus was hurrying toward us, her large, spiked tail swinging behind her as she waved frantically. 

I didn’t recognize her, but Fang and Reed did. 

“That’s Stella,” Fang said quietly, a note of curiosity in her voice.

Stella skidded to a stop in front of us, her expression shifting from excitement to shock as she took in my battered appearance. 

“Oh my gosh, what happened to you!? Are you okay!?”

“I’m alright,” I replied, trying to brush it off. 

“Just had a run-in with a guy who didn’t like me very much. But, um, what do you want?”

Stella hesitated, glancing nervously at Reed and Fang before taking a deep breath. 

“I, uh... I have something to tell you. It’s kind of important. You see, I’m—”

She paused dramatically, as if waiting for a drumroll that never came. 

Then, she straightened up, trying to project an air of mystery that didn’t quite fit her awkward demeanor.

“I’m...Stegostar.”

The words hung in the air for a moment as my brain tried to process what she’d just said. 

"Stegostar!?"

The online friend I’d spent countless hours talking to, the one who always said they were in Japan? 

That Stegostar?

“No fucking way,” 

I muttered, blinking at her in disbelief. 

“You always told me you were in Japan! Why... Why would you lie about that?”

Stella fidgeted, looking embarrassed. 

“When I’m online, I get to be whoever I want to be,” she explained, her voice softening. 

“It’s easier to just... pretend sometimes. But I’m sorry for lying to you, Anon. And for not messaging you on Monday. I just...when I heard you were starting at Volcano High, I knew I’d run into you eventually. I wanted to tell you the truth, but I didn’t know how.”

I stared at her for a moment, still trying to wrap my head around it. Stegostar, was here, in Volcaldera.

And she’d known I was here all along.

“Well,” I said finally, trying to smile despite the confusion swirling in my head. 

“It’s a lot to take in, but we’ll talk later, okay? I really need to get home and grab some meds for... well, you can see how I look.”

Stella nodded quickly, her relief evident. 

“Yeah, of course! I’m really sorry for holding you up. I’ll, um, see you at school, Anon.”

With that, she waved and hurried off, leaving me standing there with Reed and Fang, who both looked as bewildered as I felt. 

“That was... something,” 

Reed muttered as we started walking again, heading toward his van.

“Yeah,” I agreed, still not entirely sure what to make of the revelation. 

“Guess I’ve got a lot to talk about with her later.”

The drive back to my apartment was quiet, each of us lost in our thoughts. 

When we finally pulled up to the building, Fang’s eyes widened as she took in the surroundings.

“SKINROW?!” 

She said, her voice filled with disbelief. 

“This is the roughest part in Volcaldera! You live here with your parents!?”

I hesitated, then nodded. 

“Not exactly...my parents live in Rock Bottom."

Reed and Fang exchanged a look, their expressions shifting from disbelief to anger.

“They couldn’t afford to rent you a place in a better part of town?!” 

Fang asked, her voice sharp with frustration.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation press down on me. 

“My dad... he only paid for a month. Told me to figure it out after that.”

There was a brief silence as they processed this, and I could see the anger building in Reed’s eyes, mirrored by Fang’s furious expression.

“Your father only paid for a month...?” 

Reed echoed, his voice low and dangerous. 

“And just left you here to fend for yourself?!”

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat as the reality of my situation sank in even more. 

I had thought about how messed up my situation was, but it hadn't hit this...hard until now, seeing their reactions.

“Yeah...” I said quietly. 

“This is all I’ve got.”

Fang muttered something under her breath, something that sounded a lot like a curse. 

“That’s fucked up, Anon!. You shouldn’t have to live like this!.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off, but their anger made it clear they weren’t going to let this slide. 

They were pissed, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them.

“Come on,” Reed said finally, his voice tight. 

“Let’s get you inside dude.”

The three of us headed into my apartment building, and I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of relief that I wasn’t facing this all alone anymore. 

It wasn’t much, but for the first time in a long time.

I felt like I had people who actually cared about what happened to me.

Chapter Text

“Here,” I mumbled, passing the keys to Reed as we reached the door. 

“Might as well make yourselves at home.”

Reed unlocked the door, and they followed me inside. As the door swung open, I felt my heart sink, knowing what they were about to see.

The apartment was a disaster. The only piece of furniture was a bed shoved into the corner, with a single, tattered blanket thrown on top of it. 

Clothes were piled into two different corners, one for clean and one for dirty. 

There was no TV, just a mini fridge, kettle, and my old microphone on top of my amp and guitar, leaning against the wall. 

A single phone charger lay on the floor near an outlet. A small, overflowing bin filled with stale pizza sat next to the bed, the air inside was stuffy, stale.

Reed and Fang were silent as they took in the sight. 

Their shock was palpable, and it only made the knot of shame in my stomach grow tighter. 

I could feel their pity, their anger at my situation, and it made me feel even smaller.

“A-anon, this...” 

Fang started, but trailed off, as if she didn’t know what to say. 

Reed, however, wasn’t so reserved. 

“How...the hell can your parents leave you like this?”

The raw anger in his voice cut through the air, and I flinched. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled, trying to brush it off as I flopped down on the bed, wincing as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my body.

“You guys want some coffee? I think I’ve got some instant packets somewhere. Or maybe cereal?”

I forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood with a joke, but it fell flat. 

Fang gave a slight chuckle, but Reed’s expression didn’t change...he just looked sad.

“I, uh... I need to make a call,” Reed said after a moment, his voice strained. 

He turned and headed out of the apartment, leaving Fang and me alone.

I sat up, wincing again, and nodded toward the small bathroom at the end of the room. 

“I’m just gonna... take care of this,” I said, gesturing to my bruised body. 

“You can, uh, help yourself to whatever.”

Fang didn’t say anything, just nodded as I stood up and shuffled into the bathroom. 

The light flickered as I turned it on, casting a dim glow over the tiny space. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and winced.

My right eye was blackened, my lip split, and my torso was covered in dark purple and black splotches. 

The worst part was my ear.

Part of my piercing had torn, leaving it scabbed and painful.

I leaned closer to the mirror, examining the damage with a growing sense of dread. 

My father would’ve said something about how I should’ve won, calling me a pussy, how this was my fault for getting into fights.

But as I stared at my reflection, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of defiance. 

I’d stood up for myself. 

That had to count for something, right...?

I sighed, reaching for the numbing cream and ointments the nurse had given me. 

Each touch of the cream sent a sharp sting through my skin, but I gritted my teeth and kept going. 

The worst part was trying to bandage myself. 

Every time I thought I’d gotten it tight enough, it would slip loose, and I’d have to start all over again.

After the third attempt, I let out a frustrated sigh. 

I wasn’t going to be able to do this on my own. 

My pride took a hit, but I knew what I had to do.

“Fang...?” I called out, my voice hesitant.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened, and Fang poked her head in. 

“Y-yeah?”

I felt my face heat up as I realized what I was about to ask. 

“C-could you, um... help me with this? I c-can’t seem to get the bandages right...”

Fang’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of me standing there, shirtless, with the bandages half hanging off me. 

I could see a slight blush creeping up her face, and she quickly averted her gaze.

“O-oh...y-yeah, sure,” 

She said, her voice a little higher than usual. 

She stepped inside and took the bandage from my hands, her fingers brushing against mine. 

As she began wrapping the bandage around my torso, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. 

I’d only known Fang properly for two days, and here I was, half-naked in front of her, asking for her help. 

The embarrassment was almost overwhelming, but I forced myself to stay still, grateful for her assistance.

We stayed silent as she worked, the only sound being the soft rustle of the bandage as she secured it in place. 

It wasn’t until she was nearly finished that I felt her pause, her fingers hovering over a spot on my back.

“W-what... what are these marks A-Anon?” 

she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

I tensed up, feeling a cold dread wash over me. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

The burn marks...

Cigarette burns, some new...some old...when things had been at their worst.

I hadn’t even thought about them in so long, but now, with her standing so close, they were all I could think about.

“Anon?” she whispered.

But I couldn’t answer, my throat had closed up, and all I could do was stare straight ahead.

My mind spinning with memories I’d tried so hard to forget...

Fang’s hand gently touched one of the burns, and I flinched, pulling away from her. 

I couldn’t let her see this, couldn’t let her know how broken I really was. 

Without thinking, I slid down the wall, sitting on the cold tile floor with my knees pulled up to my chest.

“I’m s-sorry...” I whispered, my voice barely audible. 

“Sorry you had to s-see that...”

Fang knelt down in front of me, her expression a mix of shock and sorrow. 

For a moment, I thought she might say something, but instead, she did something completely unexpected.

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, I felt the feathers of her wings bristle along my back as she leant into me.

I stiffened, every instinct screaming at me to pull away, to get her off of me.

I didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her kindness...her comfort...

My body was disgusting...

I didn’t want her to have to touch it. 

But something in the way she held me, so gently, so carefully, made me hesitate. 

Slowly but tentatively, I let my arms encircle her waist, holding on as the emotions I’d been bottling up for so long came crashing down on me.

I don’t know how long we sat there like that, but eventually.

The tears started to fall. 

Quiet at first, then stronger, until I was sobbing into her shoulder, the pain, the fear, the loneliness, all spilling out in a mournful wail that echoed through the rundown, empty apartment. 

Fang held on, her grip never faltering, even as I completely fell apart in her arms.

When the tears finally subsided, I pulled away, wiping at my face with the back of my hand. 

“I-I’m okay now,” I said hoarsely, though my voice betrayed how fragile I still felt. 

“Thank you, Fang...”

Fang smiled at me, though her eyes were still wet with unshed tears. 

“Anon... if there’s anything you need to get off your chest, or anything you want to talk about...Reed, Trish, and I are here for you. We care about you.”

I stared at her, taken aback by her words. 

No one had ever said anything like that to me before, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. 

“W-why?” I asked, my voice cracking. 

“WHY ARE YOU ALL SO NICE TO ME!? I don’t deserve it... Just being nice to me is enough, but...”

Fang’s expression hardened, and she almost looked angry as she spoke. 

“Anon, I’ve told you multiple times today, you’re one of us. You’re stuck with us now, so stop acting like a dumbass! and lean on us when you need help. You’ve done more for us in two days than anyone else has ever done for us.”

Fang's gaze softened, her anger fading as she looked into my eyes.

“You know,” she started, her voice quieter now, almost tender.

“Since middle school, it’s just been the three of us against the world. No one ever tried to understand us or be our friends. Everyone just wanted to tear us down, make us feel like we didn’t belong.”

She paused, taking a shaky breath. 

“It’s probably why Trish is a powder keg sometimes...we’ve always had to defend ourselves. But then..."

 "You came along.”

I blinked, caught off guard. 

“Me?”

Fang nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“In less than a week, you saved Reed from getting damn near killed, stood up for us when those assholes in the auditorium started giving us shit during our song, and... you just get it, Anon. You know how we feel.”

Her voice cracked, and she quickly wiped at her eyes. 

“When that guy shouted that crap at me on stage, I wanted to break down right then and there...but then I saw you, standing up to him, punching a guy twice your size, with this look in your eyes...”

She swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. 

“You knew exactly how we felt, Anon..and you fought for us. No one’s...ever done that for us before.”

The room was silent except for the sound of Fang’s shaky breaths as she tried to compose herself. 

I felt a warmth spread through my chest, a mix of gratitude and something else I couldn’t quite place.

“You may be a dweeb Anon...” Fang continued, her voice trembling with emotion.

"But  you’re our friend, and we take care of our friends. We’ve got your back because we know no one else will. So stop acting like you don’t deserve this...because You do.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. 

It was the first genuine smile I’d felt in what seemed like forever. 

I opened my mouth to thank her, to say something, "F-fang...tha-"

But before I could finish speaking, the sound of the front door opening startled us both.

Reed’s voice broke through the tension in the room, his tone relaxed and almost amused. 

“Well, well, well, whats going on in here...?”

Fang and I sprang apart, both blushing furiously. Reed stood in the doorway with a grin that was impossible to miss. 

Behind him was Trish, her arms loaded with shopping bags, her expression a mixture of shock and amusement.

Reed cleared his throat dramatically. 

“Are we interrupting something...?”

Fang jumped to her feet, her face as red as a tomato. 

“N-NOTHING WAS HAPPENING!!”

I quickly nodded in agreement. 

“Y-yeah! It’s not what it looks like!”

Reed let out a laid-back chuckle, clearly enjoying our embarrassment. 

“Chill, you two! I’m just messing with you.”

Trish, still in the doorway, looked between the two of us, a smirk slowly forming on her face. 

“Well, whatever was or wasn’t happening, get your asses over here, and help us with all this shit!”

We stepped forward and helped set the bags down on the floor with a flourish. 

I glanced at the bags, confused. 

“What’s all this?”

Reed crossed his arms, still relaxed but more serious now. 

“Just some stuff to help you out, man. We figured you could use a few things... seeing as your dad’s idea of support is pretty much non-existent.”

My heart swelled as I looked at the bags, filled with groceries, basic necessities, and even a few things I hadn’t had in ages. 

For a moment, I was speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness.

Fang, still flustered but now smiling, nudged me gently. 

“Told you, didn’t I? We take care of our friends.”

I looked at each of them in turn.

Fang, Reed, and Trish. 

In their faces, I saw something I hadn’t had in a long time: a sense of belonging, of being part of something bigger than myself.

“Thanks, guys,” I finally managed to say, my voice thick with emotion. 

“I... I don’t know what to say.”

Reed clapped me on the shoulder, his voice soft and reassuring. 

“Don’t sweat it, dude. Just...let us be there for you, okay, man?”

I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek despite myself. 

“O-okay.”

As we began unpacking the bags together, chatting and laughing, the weight that had been pressing on my chest all day seemed to lift, just a little. 

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

---

After a few hours of conversation, the initial awkwardness faded, and the room filled with warmth and laughter. 

We talked about everything, from music, to school to the weirdness of Volcaldera. 

Despite the day’s events, being surrounded by Reed, Fang, and Trish made me feel more at ease than I had in a long time.

As the evening stretched on, I leaned back against the wall, exhaustion catching up to me. 

“I think I’m going to take tomorrow to rest. I need to recover as much as possible... I’ve got work tomorrow night.”

Reed, who had been lounging on the floor with his legs stretched out, perked up. A sly grin spread across his face. 

“Hey dude, how much do you get paid at that job anyway?”

I shrugged. 

“A decent amount, I guess. But honestly, I’m probably going to need another job soon. I can barely afford rent, and that’s not including food or basic shit.”

Reed’s grin widened, a mischievous gleam in his eye. 

“Hey man, I’ve got an idea...how’d you like to be my partner in my carfe business?”

I blinked, caught off guard. 

“Your... what?”

Reed leaned forward, his excitement palpable but still laid-back. 

“My carfe business, dude! You know, carfe? I never told you why those dudes were roughing me up, did I? You’re lookin’ at Volcaldera’s number one carfe dealer, man! Those guys were tryin’ to jack my merchandise before you showed up.”

My eyes widened as I put the pieces together. Reed’s laid back attitude, the constant clinking of glass in his backpack, the reason for the fight...it all made sense now.  

But even as I understood, a shadow of worry crossed my face. 

“I’m not sure I want to get involved in that...no offense, Reed, I’m ain't judging, I just have some bad history with carfe.”

Reed waved his hand dismissively, his voice calm. 

“No worries, dude. I get it!. But listen, you wouldn’t have to do anything crazy. Just help me pack it into the van at first. If you feel up to it, cool; if not, no pressure. I’ll pay you the same either way.”

I hesitated, the temptation of easy money warring with my instincts. 

“...How much are we talking?”

Reed’s grin turned into a full-blown smile as he named a figure. 

My jaw nearly hit the floor. 

It was more money than I’d ever made in a single paycheck. 

"YOU MAKE THAT MUCH OFF CARFE?!”

“Hell yeah, man!” Reed chuckled.“Always wanted a partner in my biz so i figured why not offer?"

"Can’t become the world’s richest raptor without help, right?”

I chewed on my lip, the offer tugging at me. With that kind of money, I could cover rent in just a couple of weeks, maybe even get ahead on some bills. But the idea of being involved in carfe still gnawed at me. 

“Can I think about it?”

“Course, man. No pressure.” Reed extended his hand, a gesture of camaraderie. 

“Offer’s always open.”

I smiled and reached out, grasping Reed’s hand in a firm, bro-style predator handshake. 

Just as our hands connected, Fang, who had been watching the exchange with a raised brow, couldn’t help but quip, 

“Oh my god you two get a room!”

I smirked, shooting back without missing a beat, 

“I’m already in my room! You and Trish just need to leave first.”

The room erupted in laughter, the tension from earlier completely evaporated. 

Even Trish, who had been quietly observing, couldn’t help but giggle at the banter. It was in that moment, with the sound of our laughter filling my tiny apartment, that I realized something important. 

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t alone. 

And that made all the difference.

---

After everyone had helped unpack the bags and we’d talked for a while, Reed, Fang, and Trish had to head out. 

Before they left, I made sure to get everyone’s numbers, figuring it’d be good to stay in touch now that we were friends. 

We all exchanged numbers, and it felt good to know I could reach out to them whenever.

Once they were gone, I made myself something quick to eat and then lay down on my bed, still thinking about how lucky I felt. 

Everything seemed to be getting better, but I found myself thinking about Fang more than I expected. I caught myself considering the things I liked about her, especially when I thought back to how close we were earlier. 

Her amber eyes 

They sparkled like molten gold, capturing the light in a mesmerizing dance, even in a shithole like my apartment, they still shined so brightly...

Realizing I was blushing, I shook the thoughts away, reminding myself that she’s just a friend.

Fang being my friend to begin with, is already more than I deserve.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of it. 

When I checked, I saw a string of messages from Stegostar, well, now Stella I guess...

---

**Stella**: 16:05  
Hey, how are you holding up? 

**Stella**: 17:15  
Hey Anon, sorry again about lying to you, I understand if you're still mad, Hope you're doing okay.

**Stella**: 18:32  
If you’re feeling up to it, wanna watch some anime later? New episodes of Jusnootsu Kaisen are out! 😊

**Stella**: 19:47  
Are you busy? Let me know if you need anything!.

**Stella**: 22:00  
Sorry Anon...I'll stop bothering you.

---

She’d been texting me for hours...I felt a twinge of guilt for not replying sooner. 

I quickly responded.

**Me**: 22:12  
Hey, sorry for not getting back to you sooner!. I had Reed, Fang, and Trish over, so I got a bit caught up sorry, and stella stop apologising okay? You made a mistake, these things happen.

**Stella**: 22:14  
No worries! I’m just glad you’re okay. I promise I'll never keep anything from you again!

**Stella**: 22:15
What were you guys up to anyway? :3

**Me**: 22:17  
Just hanging out. They brought some stuff over, groceries and all that. Really helped me out.

**Stella**: 22:20  
That’s really nice of them! So, what happened at school anyway? 0_o

**Me**: 22:24  
I got attacked in the bathroom. Some asshole cornered me, and I had to defend myself. Spears said I could press charges if I want, not sure what to do though honestly...

I didnt really want to get involved in some exhausting legal thing, would it even be worth it?

Then I remember the disgusting grin on his face when he said he'd be going after Fang next...

Fuck it, see you in court you T-rex piece of shit...

**Me**: 22:25
Screw it, I’m suing that asshole.

**Stella**: 22:26  
You poor thing! Why did he even attack you!? 😡

**Me**: 22:29  
It’s a long story. Basically, after Fang’s band performed, this guy in the crowd said some disgusting shit to her. I just lost it and punched him. That’s why he came after me.

**Stella**: 22:35  
Wow… Sounds like you’ve gotten pretty close with them. Fang, Reed, and Trish, I mean.

**Me**: 22:39  
Yeah, they’ve been really good to me. Especially Fang.

**Stella**: 22:45  
I've not spoken to Fang much...what's she like?

**Me**: 22:47  
She’s strong, she didnt seem keen on being friends with reed introduced me and I thought she was an abit rude, but when I got to know her… she's really caring. She looks out for her friends, you know? I really appreciate that about her.

**Stella**: 22:55  
I see… Well, it sounds like you’ve got good people around you.

**Stella**: 22:56  
I, uh, I gotta go. But I’m glad you’re okay! Get some rest, okay?

**Me**: 22:58  
Thanks, Stella. Goodnight.

**Stella**: 22:59  
Night. Hope you feel better tomorrow.

---

The end of the conversation felt a bit off, but I just shrugged it off. 

I set my phone down and tried to get some rest, and for the first time in nearly two years.

I slept peacefully.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough, and it felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up.

What a stupid fucking thing to think...

---

I woke up the next morning, my body aching from the events of the past few days, but for once, the sleep had been deep. I reached for my phone, squinting at the screen as I noticed a few notifications.

Messages from Reed, and Fang, I smile as I read and reply to each of them.

But then I notice a message from an unknown number. 

Curiosity piqued, I decided to check the unfamiliar message first.

As I opened it, my blood ran cold.

**Unknown Number**:  7:02
*Did you think leaving Rock Bottom would make you safe? You owe me, Anon, and I always, collect my debts...

Be seeing you soon...Ashtray.*  

Attached was a picture of me leaving Moe’s Pizzeria, my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one person who knows that FUCKING nickname...

BISHOP

“FUCK!” I yelled, launching my phone against the wall in a blind panic. 

The screen cracked on impact, but I barely noticed as I stumbled out of bed, my legs feeling like jelly. 

I made a beeline for the bathroom, my gut twisting with nausea.

I barely made it to the toilet before I vomited up everything I’d eaten last night. 

The overwhelming mix of fear and panic threatened to crush me as I collapsed onto the cold bathroom tiles, gasping for air between sobs.

My chest tightened, and I realized I was spiraling into a full-blown panic attack, unable to think straight as the world closed in around me. 

Bishop had found me...

Chapter Text

The message from Bishop played on repeat in my mind.

It was like a noose tightening around my throat. 

Flashes of Rock Bottom.

A fucking frankensteins monster, of all of my worst moments, I had tried to bury deep surged up from the darkness.

With each horrific scene, there's always one constant between them all.

Bishop’s FUCKING grin...

A constant image that would forever be with me forever, like it had been burned onto my eyelids.

Always reminding me...making sure I’ll never forget the things he did...

The feeling of being cornered, helpless, with no escape.

The overwhelming fear of knowing he always found a way to hurt me.

No matter where I went...

The memories crashed into me like waves, each one pulling me deeper into the abyss.

“Get-a-grip-get-a-grip-get-a-grip.”

I muttered, rocking back and forth, trying to fight the tidal wave of emotions threatening to pull me under. But it was no use. 

Every breath, every heartbeat felt like a countdown to something terrible, something inevitable.

My muscles seized up, and I could feel the tension coiling in my chest, a knot of anxiety that refused to untangle. 

The edges of my vision darkened, and for a moment, I feared I might pass out. 

But the worst part wasn’t the physical symptoms, it was the helplessness, the absolute certainty that no matter what I did, Bishop would always be there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, hot and stinging, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

Crying would make it real, and I wasn’t ready to face that reality yet.

 My mind was a whirlwind of panic, thoughts swirling too fast for me to catch hold of any of them. I was trapped in my own head, a prisoner of my past.

I tried to tell myself it wasn’t real, that Bishop wasn’t here, but the panic had its claws in me, dragging me down into the dark.

My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat that drowned out everything else.

My hands were numb, trembling uncontrollably as I wrapped my arms around my knees, curling up tighter.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,”

I whispered, the words slipping out between ragged breaths.

I felt like there was a weight on my chest, pressing down, crushing me until I couldn’t breathe. 

I wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but I couldn’t find my voice. All I could do was gasp for air, each breath feeling like it could be my last.

The world around me faded, and I was lost in a sea of panic, alone, terrified, and utterly powerless. 

Bishop’s voice echoed in my mind, taunting, threatening, reminding me that I was never truly safe.

 It felt like I was being pulled into a black hole, the darkness consuming me from the inside out.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, huddled on the cold tiles, shaking and gasping for breath.

Time lost all meaning, the minutes stretching out like hours. 

All I knew was the fear, the absolute certainty that no matter how far I ran, no matter how hard I tried to escape. 

Bishop would always find me.

And when he did...

He’d kill me, or worse...

---

I don’t know how long I lay there, trembling on the cold bathroom tiles, the world reduced to the sound of my own ragged breathing. 

The memory of Bishop’s message played over and over in my head, each word etched in dread. I felt like I was drowning, and there was no way out.

Then I heard it.

A knock on the door.

My heart lurched in my chest, the sudden noise slicing through my panic like a knife.

I froze, every muscle tensing up, my breath hitching in my throat. 

Another knock followed, more insistent this time. 

The sound reverberated in my skull, each knock a hammer blow to my fragile state of mind.

“Anon!”

The voice was muffled, but there was no mistaking the urgency behind it.

It was getting louder, more frantic, but I couldn’t make out the words. 

All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, the fear whispering in my mind.

'It’s Bishop.

He’s here.

He's found you...'

The thought hit me like a freight train, sending me spiraling back into the abyss. 

I scrambled back, trying to push myself further into the corner of the bathroom, away from the door. 

My mind was racing, thoughts colliding in a chaotic storm.

Do I hide? Defend myself? Run? What can I do?

My eyes darted to the window, open just a crack, the cool evening air filtering in. 

The thought crossed my mind.

If I threw myself from the window...

Maybe the fall would do the job.

It would be quick, painless compared to what Bishop would do if he got his hands on me. 

It would be a mercy...

The dark voice in the back of my mind, the one that had been with me for as long as I could remember, latched onto the thought.

It whispered insidiously, coaxing, laughing.

'You really thought things would change? You really thought you could escape?

You’re NOTHING Anon...

You’ve always been...

NOTHING.'

The knocking grew more frantic, the voice outside growing louder, more desperate. 

But it was drowned out by the darkness in my mind, the voice that was tearing me apart from the inside.

Just end it. It’s the only way out.

I staggered to my feet, my legs shaky, barely holding me up. 

My vision was blurred, my mind fogged with panic and despair. 

I stumbled towards the window, the voice in my head urging me on, telling me it was the only way, the only escape.

'You don’t deserve to be happy.'

'You don’t deserve to live.'

I reached the window, my fingers brushing against the cold glass. 

The world outside seemed so far away, so distant, like a dream I could never touch.

I could feel the tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away. 

There was no point.

It was all going to be over...

Then, just as I was about to step up to the windowsill, the door burst open.

I whirled around, my heart leaping into my throat, expecting to see Bishop’s twisted grin, his hands reaching out to drag me back into the nightmare.

But it wasn’t Bishop.

“ANON!”

The world tilted as I stared at the familiar faces of Fang and Naser, the overwhelming relief flooding through me, only for my vision to blur and darkness to close in.

I fainted, my body finally giving in to the chaos that had been consuming me.

When I started to wake up, I was no longer by the window.

Instead, I found myself lying on my bed, the scent of something cooking wafting through the apartment.

My eyes fluttered open, and I looked around groggily, noticing that Naser was no longer there. 

But as I scanned the room, I caught sight of Fang and Trish by the stove, busy with whatever they were cooking.

The smell was comforting, and despite the lingering fear in my chest, I slowly sat up. 

The creak of the bed alerted them, and they quickly turned to face me. 

Fang’s eyes were filled with worry, while Trish's expression was more neutral, but there was a touch of concern beneath her usual tough exterior.

“What in the hell happened, Anon?!” 

Trish demanded, walking over to me. 

The worry in her voice was laced with irritation, as if she was upset that I had scared them like this.

I hesitated, my mind racing. I couldn’t tell them the truth. 

I couldn’t drag them into this mess with Bishop. 

They’d be in danger, and I didn’t know what I’d do if they got hurt because of me. 

So, I did what I thought was best.

“I thought someone, was trying to break in to rob me...” 

I lied, trying to keep my voice steady. 

“Living in Skinrow, you know how it is...I was scared. I’m too injured to fight, anyone off right now.”

Trish sighed, her expression softening a bit as she accepted my explanation without question. 

“Anon, you scared the shit out of Fang and the rest of us, when you stopped texing.”

But when I turned to look at Fang, her expression wasn’t softening. 

If anything...she looked pissed. 

Her eyes narrowed, and I could tell that she didn’t believe a word I said. 

“Get some rest, and be careful next time,” she said, her voice cold. 

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving me feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.

I felt terrible. Lying to Fang was the last thing I wanted to do, but I convinced myself it was necessary. 

I had to protect them from Bishop, no matter the cost.

Trish, who had been watching Fang leave, turned her attention back to me, squinting suspiciously. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, TO FANG ANON!?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, but my voice lacked conviction. 

“BULLSHIT!” Trish snapped, scoffing in disbelief. 

“You know exactly what you did.” She sighed, her voice dripping with frustration. 

“There’s soup on the stove we made for you, not that someone who lies to their friends deserves it...”

And with that, she stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her, leaving me alone with the weight of my decisions.

The silence in the apartment was deafening. 

My eyes drifted to the stove, where the soup they had made for me was gently simmering. 

But I couldn’t bring myself to eat. 

The guilt gnawed at me, twisting in my gut as I contemplated the choices I’d made.

Had I done the right thing by lying to them? 

Was I really protecting them, or was I just pushing them away? 

The thought of Bishop getting anywhere near them terrified me, but so did the idea of losing their trust.

I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes as I let out a shaky breath. I didn’t know what the right answer was, but one thing was clear...I couldn’t let them get hurt because of me. 

Even if it meant keeping them at a distance, even if it meant lying to them... 

I had to protect them, no matter the cost.

But as I sat there, alone in the darkening apartment, I couldn’t help but wondering.

If I was making the biggest mistake of my life?.

---

I stayed in bed longer than I should have, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a physical force.

Part of me wanted to just pull the covers over my head and pretend that nothing was wrong, to hide away from the world and my mistakes. 

But my stomach had other plans. 

The scent of the soup that Fang and Trish had made for me was impossible to ignore, drawing me out of bed despite my reluctance.

As I slowly got up, the smell grew stronger, more distinct, until I could make out that it was chicken noodle soup. 

They had made it from scratch...

I could tell from the bits of packaging peeking out from the bin. 

The guilt I felt for lying to them hit me again, hard, as I realized how much effort they’d gone through to take care of me, even after everything.

I tried to push the guilt down, distracting myself by ladling some soup into a bowl and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

The warmth of the bowl seeped into my hands, grounding me, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. 

Not yet...

There was something I needed to do first.

I reached for my phone, my heart pounding as I dialed the number. 

It was a call I didn’t want to make, but I knew I had to. 

I needed to make things right, or at least try to.

---

About half an hour later, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, Reed was standing there, looking worried, with Fang and Trish right behind him. 

Both of them were clearly still pissed, their expressions hard and unyielding.

Reed’s eyes darted between me and the girls, as if he could feel the tension crackling in the air. 

“Uh, hey, dude...what's up, man?”

I swallowed hard, feeling like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. 

“I... I need to talk to all of you. Please, just hear me out before you leave.”

Fang crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at me, while Trish tapped her foot impatiently. 

They didn’t say anything, but their silence was all the confirmation I needed to continue. 

I took a deep breath, my mind racing as I tried to find the right words.

“First of all, I’m sorry,” I began, my voice shaky but determined. 

“I know I messed up by lying to you earlier. It wasn’t right, and I’m really sorry for that.”

Their expressions didn’t soften, but they didn’t interrupt, so I kept going, my words tumbling out in a rush. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys, because I do. It’s just...something from my past came up, and it triggered, a panic attack...”

Fang’s eyes narrowed, and Trish’s foot stopped tapping. 

They still looked pissed, but they were listening, and that was something.

I could feel the tension in the room shift slightly, from outright anger to something more complicated.

“I’m not ready to talk about what happened...”

I continued, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I didn’t want to drag any of you into it. I was worried you guys...would get hurt because of me...I know that’s not a good excuse, and I’m sorry for lying, but...that’s the truth.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I could see the conflict in their eyes, the way they were weighing my words, trying to decide whether to forgive me or not. 

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited, hoping that I hadn’t completely screwed things up.

After what felt like an eternity, Fang finally spoke, her voice still laced with anger but softer than before. 

“Anon...we’re your friends. You don’t have to go through this alone, whatever it is.”

Trish nodded, though her expression was still guarded. 

“Yeah, we get it, you’ve got stuff to deal with. But don’t push us away, okay skinnie'?”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, and I nodded quickly. 

“I won’t...I promise.”

It wasn’t a perfect resolution, and I knew that things wouldn’t magically go back to the way they were. 

But it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

---

The atmosphere in my apartment shifted, no longer heavy with tension and unresolved emotions. 

Instead, it felt lighter, filled with a quiet understanding between us. 

Fang, Trish, and Reed were giving me the space I needed, but they weren’t letting me off the hook entirely.

“We’re not gonna push you to talk about what happened.” 

Fang said, her voice firm but with an underlying softness. 

“But...you have to promise that when you’re ready, or if you need help...you’ll come to us.”

Trish nodded in agreement. 

“We’re here for you, Anon. Whenever you’re ready.”

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. 

Trusting others wasn’t something that came naturally to me, not after everything I’d been through. 

But as I looked at them, I realized that they weren’t asking for much, just a promise to let them in when I could. 

It was a small step, but it felt monumental.

“Alright...” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. 

“I promise.”

Reed, ever the one to keep things from getting too heavy, suddenly clapped his hands together. 

“Sorry I didn’t come sooner, dude,” he said with a mischievous grin. 

“I was putting together a little surprise for ya.”

Fang and Trish exchanged knowing smiles, and I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in suspicion. 

Reed left the apartment for a moment, leaving me to wonder what the hell he was up to. 

When he returned, it was with his arms full of flat-pack furniture boxes, dressers, chairs, a table, all the basics I’d been missing. 

My jaw dropped as he began setting them down one by one.

“Reed, what… what is all this!?” I stammered, completely stunned.

But Reed wasn’t done. After the essentials came a second-hand TV, which was more than I ever expected, but the real kicker was when he brought in a cardboard box with an out-of-place bow on top, making it look like a gift. 

I stood there, dumbfounded, as they all began to unpack and assemble the pieces. 

The sight of them working together to transform my barren apartment was surreal, to say the least.

As they worked, I could only think about how these people, these friends, were willing to go out of their way for me. 

It wasn’t just the material things, though they were nice. 

It was the thought, the kindness behind it all. I’d never experienced anything like this before. 

It was... baffling.

Reed waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my daze. 

“Yo, Earth to Anon! You still with us?”

I blinked, trying to refocus. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything yet, dude!” Reed said, handing me the box with the bow. 

“Open this up first.”

I hesitated, then carefully untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was the latest Xrox console, along with a few games. 

My eyes landed on one in particular.

'Rock Ring'. 

“W-what the hell, Reed!?” I asked, completely floored by this gesture. 

“W-why did you—”

Reed cut me off with a grin. 

“Thought you could use some furniture to brighten up the place, y’know? And the TV and Xrox? That’s for when we all come over to hang out. Gotta have something to do, right?”

I looked around at the boxes, the assembled furniture, the second-hand TV, and the Xrox console. 

They’d done all this for me. My heart swelled with gratitude, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged somewhere. 

Like maybe, just maybe, things really were getting better.

Despite Bishop...

“Thanks,” I managed to say, my voice thick with emotion. 

“I... I don’t know how to thank you guys.”

Reed clapped a hand on my shoulder, his easygoing smile never wavering. 

“Don’t worry about it, man. Just let us be there for you, okay? We’re a team now.”

I nodded, feeling a tear slip down my cheek despite myself. 

“O-okay.”

The room filled with laughter and chatter as we finished assembling the furniture and set up the TV. 

For once, the weight of my past didn’t seem so heavy. And as the evening wore on, I realized that I wasn’t just surviving.

I was starting to live again.

---

Hours had passed since Reed and the others surprised me with the furniture and the Xrox console, and the apartment had settled into a comfortable vibe. 

Trish and Reed were seated on the floor in front of the TV, locked in an intense 1v1 match of 'Rock Ring'. 

Trish was absolutely losing her mind, screaming every obscenity under the sun at the screen as Reed, laid back and clearly high as a kite, was wiping the floor with her. 

His relaxed demeanor only made her angrier, which, in turn, seemed to make Reed's grin even wider.

Meanwhile, Fang and I were on the bed, guitars in hand, picking up where we left off in music class. 

Fang had been struggling to figure out why the song she wrote for the band wasn’t coming together the way she wanted it to.

“It’s like… I don’t know,” she muttered, strumming her bass absentmindedly. 

“It just feels like it’s missing something, you know?”

“Mind if I take a listen?” I asked.

Fang shrugged, handing me the sheet music. 

“Sure, but I’m telling you, it’s just not clicking.”

She began playing the song, and I listened closely, letting the notes wash over me. 

She wasn’t wrong, the song was good, but there was something that wasn’t quite fitting together. 

It was missing that final piece, the thing that would elevate it from good to great. 

As she played through it a second time, it finally clicked.

“I think I have an idea,” I said, my excitement growing. 

“Play it again, but just keep looping the main riff.”

“Alright,” she replied, still sounding doubtful.

As Fang began playing the riff for the third time, I picked up my electric guitar, my fingers instinctively finding the chords.

I began playing a simple riff to complement what she was doing, and the song started to fill out. 

The more we played, the more it felt like the missing piece had fallen into place.

“Holy shit,” Fang whispered, her eyes wide as she realized what was happening. 

“That’s it...That’s what’s been missing!”

By now, Reed and Trish had turned around, their game momentarily forgotten as they listened in awe. I continued to play, the simple riffs blending seamlessly with Fang’s bass. 

The room was filled with music, the energy lifting us all up. 

When we finally finished the song, the room was silent for a moment, as if everyone was absorbing what had just happened.

“You’ve got an amazing ear, dude!” Reed said, clearly impressed.

Fang looked at me with a new level of respect. 

“Didnt you tell me in Jingo's class, that you never learned sheet music, You just play by ear, right?”

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. 

“I learned to play by listening to songs over and over again, just figuring them out bit by bit.”

Fang’s eyes lit up. 

“Holy shit Dweeb!, I think you were right!" 

AN ELECTRIC GUITAR IS EXACTLY WHAT VVURM DRAMA NEEDS!”

As fang said that, I noticed Trish still had the apprehensive look in her eye hearing this, it seems that her opinion about the double bass's hadn't changed it seems, but the look in her eye eventually softens.

Fang was practically buzzing with excitement. “Let’s run through the song a few more times. I want to write down the chords for the guitar parts.”

She hugged me tightly, catching me off guard. 

“Thanks dweeb! Seriously.”

I felt my face heat up slightly at the contact but managed to keep my cool. 

“I-It’s the least I could do after everything you guys have done for me!”

Fang pulled back with a cheeky grin. 

“Wellllll...since we put together all that shitty flat-pack furniture for you, I think you owe us another song!.”

Reed and Trish, who had been watching with interest, immediately chimed in, agreeing with Fang. 

I looked at them all, feeling more comfortable than I had in ages. 

The anxiety I’d felt back in the auditorium was gone, replaced by a genuine desire to share my music with my friends.

With a grin, I nodded.

I'd made the track for this song a while back, and the lyrics just now when me and Fang were jamming out.

Normally when I write lyrics it can take from a few days, up to a week to write a song.

But this time...

Let's just say I had a certain muse that sped up the writing process...

“Alright, you’ve twisted my arm..."

"Let’s do this...”

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Let me be your leccy meter

And I'll never run out

Let me be the portable heater

That you'll get cold without

I wanna be your setting lotion (wanna be)

Hold your hair in deep devotion (How deep?)

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean

Now I wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

(Wanna be yours)

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner (wanna be yours)

Breathing in your dust (wanna be yours)

I wanna be your Ford Cortina (wanna be yours)

I will never rust (wanna be yours)

I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours)

I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours)

I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours)

---

As the last note of the song faded, I could feel a weird mix of pride and panic swirling in my chest. 

The song had gone over well, better than I’d expected.

Everyone seemed genuinely impressed. 

But as I finished, my thoughts kept drifting back to a certain pterosaur sitting beside me, and that realization hit me like a freight train.

'OH SHIT'

The realization hit me hard: 

The Lyrics...

My eyes darted across the room, hoping no one had caught on.

I subtly glanced around the room, my anxiety building.

Trish was the first to catch my eye. 

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have noticed anything. 

She was still fuming over her last defeat at the hands of Reed in 'Rock Ring', grumbling something under her breath as she packed up her controller.

Reed was next. 

I wasn’t expecting much, he’d been high as a kite all evening, after all. 

But when I looked over, I noticed a slight grin on his face. 

My stomach dropped. 

Reed might have been on another planet, but that grin...that was the grin of someone who knew something. 

I gulped and quickly averted my gaze.

Finally, I dared to look at Fang. 

She was smiling, which was good, right? But as she praised the song, thanking me again for helping out, I swore her voice was a little higher-pitched than usual.

 Was she nervous? Was it because of something I did? I tried to brush it off, chalking it up to her throat being worn out from all the singing and talking earlier. 

Yeah, that had to be it.

Eventually, the time came for everyone to leave. They all said their goodbyes, and I tried to play it cool, thanking them for coming over. 

Fang’s goodbye was a little rushed, and she practically darted out of the apartment. 

That only made my heart race even more. Did she know? What if she—

Reed was the last to leave. He bumped fists with me at the door, and I couldn’t help but notice that same sly grin on his face as he walked out. 

“Later, dude,” he said casually, but there was something in his tone, like he was holding back a laugh.

I finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding as the door closed behind him. 

I flopped onto my bed, a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety washing over me. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile.

Today had been... good. Maybe even great. 

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had forgotten something important...

As if on cue, my phone rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen and felt my stomach drop.

It was Moe.

“Where the hell are you?” 

Moe’s gruff voice barked through the speaker, the frustration clear.

OH.

FUCK.

I sat up straight, my earlier calm shattered. 

In the midst of everything, my friends, the jam session, the panic attack.

I had completely forgotten about work!.

“I-I’m sorry Moe! I... I got caught up in something and—!”

But instead of the angry outburst I expected, Moe’s voice was surprisingly calm, though still carrying that no-nonsense tone of his. 

“Kid...don’t worry about it,” he said, sighing. 

“Just come in tomorrow, we can talk about it then...capisce?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his understanding. 

“O-Okay, Moe. I’m really sorry—”

“Save it for tomorrow,” Moe interrupted, his voice gruff but not unkind. 

“Get some rest, alright kid?”

“Alright, thanks Moe,” I mumbled, still trying to process the unexpected reprieve.

Moe hung up without another word, and I slowly lowered the phone from my ear. 

The tension that had been building in my chest finally began to ease, leaving me with a sense of relief I hadn’t felt all day.

I set the phone down and lay back on my bed, closing my eyes. For the first time in what felt like ages, I let myself relax. 

Today had been rough, no doubt about it. 

But right now, at this moment, things were okay, and that was enough.

As I lay there, my thoughts drifted back to Fang. 

Her smile, her wings fluttering nervously, her tail flicking slightly as she said goodbye. A warmth spread through me, and for a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to tell her how I felt.

But then I shook my head, trying to snap out of it. 

She’s just a friend, I told myself firmly. Just a friend.I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but Fang’s image kept creeping back into my mind. 

I could still hear her voice, still see the way her eyes lit up when she played her music. 

I could feel the warmth of her hug when she thanked me earlier.

But I pushed those thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus on anything else. 

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off.

With Fang’s smile...

Still lingering in the back of my mind.

Chapter Text

Waking up to the sharp blare of my school alarm, I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time. Yesterday was rough, but coming clean to Fang, Reed, and Trish was the right move. 

Even though I couldn’t bring myself to tell them everything, they understood. 

They respected that it was hard for me to talk about, and that took a weight off my shoulders.

I stretch and go through my usual morning routine, but I can’t help but grin as I combat roll onto the unsuspecting wooden floor, dealing a critical hit, and winning my first battle of the day.

Reed’s gift of the hemp rug was a lifesaver too, especially with all the new furniture. 

It’s strange, but I feel like I’m finally settling into this place. 

My apartment isn’t just an empty shell anymore. 

Sure, I’m still in Skinrow, but it feels like a better life is starting to take root here.

I take a moment to just look around, letting the reality of my new situation sink in. 

This isn’t just a place to sleep anymore.

It’s becoming home. 

But the clock reminds me that if I keep daydreaming, I’ll be late. Grabbing my backpack, I head out.

Ready to face the day.

Walking through the streets of Skinrow, I notice I’m more cautious than usual. 

Even though I feel better after yesterday

The knowledge that Bishop is somewhere in Volcaldera Bluffs makes me hyper-aware of my surroundings. 

My mind races with all the ways he could find me. I quicken my pace, taking a less obvious route to school, glancing over my shoulder more often than I’d like to admit.

When I finally reach the park near Volcano High, I allow myself to relax a little. 

I haven’t noticed anyone following me, so I let out a sigh of relief. 

The park is quiet, the morning air cool and crisp. But then something catches my eye...

I see Trish chasing after a short compy with a hood up, clutching her bag. 

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on.

A mugger. 

I quickly gauge the situation, realizing I might be able to cut the bastard off. 

Without thinking, I start sprinting.

Adrenaline floods my system as I close in on the guy, heart pounding in my chest. 

I’m almost there, about to tackle him.

But I’m a second too late...

Trish has already taken care of business, tackling the guy to the ground with impressive force. I try to stop myself, but there’s nothing to slow my momentum

I see it.

A lamp post straight ahead of me. 

Time seems to slow as I watch in horror, knowing there’s no way to avoid it.

Oh no.

I slam into the pole full force, pain exploding through my body. 

My injuries from a couple of days ago flare up, a throbbing agony spreading through my limbs. 

Groaning, I roll onto my back, staring up at the sky. 

The next thing I see is Trish standing over me, a mix of concern and amusement on her face.

“Need a hand hero?”

She asks with a smirk, clearly trying to hold back laughter.

I wince as I take her hand, letting her pull me to my feet. 

My eyes land on the crumpled, unconscious form of the compy on the ground. 

Trish casually strides over, grabs her bag, and starts walking away as if nothing happened.

“You coming?” she calls over her shoulder.

I start walking alongside her, glancing back at the unconscious mugger. 

For a split second, I almost feel sorry for the guy, knowing he faced Trish’s wrath. But then I dismiss the thought, he got what he deserved.

As we walk, I find myself thinking about Trish.

She’s tough, no doubt about it, but she’s also incredibly loyal. 

I realize that I want to get to know her better, to be a better friend. 

I’m deep in thought when Trish suddenly asks, 

“So, what’s going on between you and Fang?”

I’m caught off guard, stumbling over my words. 

“W-we’re just friends!” I stammer. 

“She’s really cool...b-but so are you and Reed!”

I catch a sudden angry look on Trish’s face. 

At first, I think she’s upset because she thinks I’m bullshitting her, like yesterday. 

But her issue turns out to be something completely different.

Trish steps closer, grabs me by the collar, and pulls me down so we’re face-to-face.

Her voice low and filled with a dangerous edge. 

“Fang is non-binary, Anon.”

I blink, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. 

Oh shit... 

"I-I’m so sorry, Trish! I didn’t know—I mean, I’d never misgender them on purpose. I swear!”

She stares into my eyes, her fury simmering just beneath the surface. 

Finally, she lets go of my collar, letting me stand up straight again. 

“Fang’s dealt with a lot of bullshit in their life, Anon...Their family sucks, dad’s an asshole, mom’s useless, and don’t even get me started on Naser and Naomi. They’re special kinds of assholes who deserve each other.”

Her voice grows even colder as she continues.

“I know you’d never try to hurt them on purpose, but if you do...” 

Her voice drops to a menacing whisper. 

“You’ll see first hand how a triceratops gores their prey...got it?”

A shiver runs down my spine at the mental image. 

“I promise, Trish, I’ll never hurt Fang.”

Trish eyes me for a moment before nodding. 

“I’ll hold you to that baldy.”

We continue walking towards the school, but as we near the steps, I spot Fang and Naser arguing. 

It’s easy to tell how pissed off they are, even from a distance.

Trish and I exchange a glance before picking up the pace, both of us worried about what’s going down between Fang and Naser.

As Trish and I reached the top of the stairs, the atmosphere between Fang and Naser was thick with tension. 

Fang’s wings were flapping erratically, and their tail was flicking with mounting irritation. Naser stood before them, looking contrite, his voice wavering with apology.

“I’m really sorry, Fang,” Naser began, his tone desperate to make amends.

“I didn’t know getting the pizzas would bring in all those assholes. I thought it would help get a bigger crowd for you guys, you know? I never meant for things to go down like that!”

But Fang wasn’t having it. 

Their wings beat faster, reflecting the anger simmering beneath the surface. 

They glared at Naser, their eyes narrowing with each word he spoke.

“Naser”

Fang snapped, their voice sharp.

“That's the problem, you didn’t think at all, did you? You never think. It’s not just about the crowd. It’s about everything that happened after. Do you have any idea how hard it was to stand up there while everyone was laughing at us!?”

Naser looked down, guilt etched into his features. 

“I know, I know, I really screwed up, I promise I just wanted to help...”

Fang’s wings were practically vibrating with barely contained rage. 

“You wanted to help by making us a laughingstock!?"

"By dragging those ASSHOLES to our show!?”

Naser’s voice grew smaller, almost pleading. 

“I swear I was just trying to help! I’m sorry!”

But Fang wasn’t ready to let it go. Their tail lashed behind them, their wings flaring out slightly as they took a step back.

“Fuck off, Naser,” 

They spat, venom in their voice. 

“Just…fuck off.”

With that, Fang turned sharply on their heel and started walking away, motioning for Trish and me to follow. 

Trish shot Naser a glare as she moved to catch up with Fang. 

I hesitated for a moment, watching the scene unfold, feeling the rising tension in the air. 

Just as we were about to leave, Naser, in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation, called out.

“L-Lucy, I'm sorry!”

Fang froze mid-step, their entire body stiffening. For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. 

Then, slowly, Fang turned around and marched straight up to Naser, their eyes blazing with fury. 

“My name is FANG,” they hissed, jabbing a clawed finger into Naser’s chest with each word.

“Get. It. Right.”

The look on Naser’s face was a mix of shock and regret. 

His wings fluttered nervously as he realized the gravity of his mistake. 

Trish and I were at Fang’s side in an instant. 

I might have just learned about Fang being non-binary, but Naser’s their fucking brother. 

He should know better, and yet, he’d let that name slip. 

The name Fang had left behind. 

Fang stood their ground, wings now flapping with an intensity that matched the storm brewing in their eyes. 

"YOU STILL CAN'T ACCEPT IT CAN YOU?!"

Fang’s voice begins to break.

"I'm non-binary Naser...I’ve been non-binary, for. Two. Whole. Years. Naser"

Fang then takes a breath to steady herself after their outburst.

“If you can’t even respect that, Naser...” 

They said, their voice low and dangerous.

“Then you don’t deserve to call yourself my brother."

"Now...FUCK OFF"

Before I do something we'll both regret...you fucked wing retard.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of words spoken and unspoken. 

Naser opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. 

He looked lost, as if he didn’t know how to fix what he had just broken.

Without another word, Fang turned their back on Naser and walked away, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. 

Trish and I followed after Fang, not daring to look back. 

As we walked, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness over Fang. 

They've helped me so much in these past few days, and I had never considered to ask them once.

If they were okay...

The air between us was thick with unspoken emotion, but one thing was clear.

I would stand by Fang, and my friends...

No matter what.

---

As we walked through the halls of Volcano High, the tension between us was palpable. 

Fang’s wings had stopped flapping so furiously, but I could tell they were still seething underneath their calm exterior. 

Trish and I exchanged a glance, both of us wondering if we should say something, but unsure of how to start.

Finally, Trish broke the silence, her voice laced with venom as she spoke. 

“Naser’s such a fucking idiot,” she muttered, the words dripping with contempt. 

“He’s always been an asshole, but that was a new fucking low...”

Fang didn’t respond immediately, their gaze fixed ahead as we continued walking. 

When they did speak, their voice was quiet, almost resigned. 

“It’s fine,” Fang said, shrugging as if trying to brush it off. 

“Same shit, different day...”

But I wasn’t buying it. 

Fang might have been trying to act like it didn’t bother them, but I could see through the mask they were wearing. 

There was a deep hurt in their eyes, a pain that no amount of pretending could hide. 

And it pissed me off to see them like this, to see someone who was supposed to be their brother inflict this kind of pain.

“Are you really okay?” I asked gently, trying to keep my voice steady despite the anger simmering just below the surface.

Fang glanced at me, offering a small, strained smile. 

“Yeah Dweeb...I’ll be fine,” they replied, but their voice lacked conviction. 

It was clear they were just saying what they thought we wanted to hear.

Trish, however, wasn’t about to let it go that easily. 

“He doesn’t deserve to call you family, Fang,” she snapped, her tail flicking with irritation. 

“He can’t even respect who you are! What kind of brother does that!?”

Fang sighed, their wings drooping slightly as they came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. 

“Trish, please… just drop it, okay? I’m used to it by now. This is just the way Naser is. I’m just… tired of fighting with him...”

Hearing Fang say that, seeing the exhaustion in their eyes, made something snap inside of me. 

I had thought Naser wasn’t so bad. Sure, he’d screwed up at the auditorium, but I’d seen that he was trying to help in his own misguided way. 

But misgendering his own sibling? 

Hurting Fang like this? 

There was no excuse.

“I don’t care if you’re used to it,” I said, my voice trembling with barely controlled anger. 

“It’s not right. Naser fucked up, and he needs to know that. No one deserves to be treated like that, especially not by their own brother.”

Fang looked at me, surprise flickering in their eyes. For a moment, they seemed unsure of what to say. But then they nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of their lips. 

“Thanks Dweeb...That means a lot.”

We continued walking, the silence between us no longer as heavy as before. Trish was still fuming, muttering curses under her breath, but there was a determined glint in her eye that told me she wasn’t going to let this slide.

As I walked through the halls of Volcano High with Trish and Fang, I couldn’t shake the image of Fang’s hurt expression from my mind. 

Naser had messed up, badly, and it was clear that it had cut deep. 

Fang was trying to put up a front, to act like it didn’t matter, but I knew better. 

That kind of hurt didn’t just disappear. 

It festered, eating away at you from the inside. 

And as much as I didn’t want to get involved in their family drama.

I can't just stand by and do nothing...

As much as Fang tried to shrug it off, it was obvious they were still stung by what had happened. That look on their face… it wasn’t something I could just forget. 

Naser was their brother, and as much as Fang might want to pretend otherwise, that relationship still mattered to them. 

There had to be some way to fix this, or at least make it a little better. 

But how?

I ran through the list of people I knew at school, trying to figure out who might be able to help me talk to Naser. 

Trish was out of the question...

She was too pissed at him to be any help, and honestly, I didn’t want to put her in that situation. 

She’d tear him apart before we could even get a word in. 

Reed… well, Reed was a bro to me sure, but I wasn’t sure how much help he’d be in a situation like this. 

Then there was Naomi.

I grimaced at the thought. 

Talking to Naomi was the last thing I wanted to do.

But she was Naser’s girlfriend, and if anyone could get through to him, it was probably her. 

I didn’t have many other options, and I knew that if I didn’t try to do something, I’d regret it later. 

I wasn’t the kind of person who could just stand by and let things get worse when I knew there might be something I could do to help.

So, as we approached the end of the hallway and Fang and Trish headed off to their next class, I made my decision. 

I’d talk to Naomi, try to explain what had happened and see if she could help me get through to Naser. 

Maybe if we approached him together, we could help him understand how badly he’d hurt Fang, and maybe, just maybe, things could start to get better between them.

“I’ll catch you guys later,” 

Fang didn’t say anything, just nodded and gave me a small, tired smile before they and Trish headed off to their next class. 

I watched them go, my heart heavy with a mixture of concern and determination. 

This wasn’t going to be easy, but I had to try. For Fang’s sake.

I turned and headed down the hallway toward English class, my mind already racing with how I was going to approach Naomi. 

This was going to be a tricky conversation, and I needed to be careful with how I handled it. 

But if it could help mend the rift between Fang and Naser, it would all be worth it.

With that thought in mind, I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and headed into the classroom.

Hoping that I could find a way to make things right.

Chapter Text

I headed toward English class, still mulling over how I was going to approach Naomi. 

The hallway was a blur of activity, students chatting, lockers slamming, the usual morning rush. 

But all I could think about was the task ahead.

Talking to Naomi about Naser and Fang... 

It was going to be tricky, especially since I wasn’t exactly looking forward to dealing with Naomi’s saccharine facade.

As I entered the classroom, I scanned the room for her. 

Naomi was easy to spot, sitting by the window with her usual bright smile plastered on her face, her eyes twinkling as she jotted down something in her notebook. 

She had that perfect, poised look about her, like she was always in control, always the picture of grace. 

But there was something unsettling about how flawless she tried to appear.

About twenty minutes into English, Mr Tsuki told everyone to find a partner for the poetry crafting part of the class.

'Guess this is as good chance as any...'

I took a deep breath and walked over, sliding into the seat beside her. 

Naomi looked up from her notebook, her smile widening as she saw me.

"Hi, Anon!" she greeted cheerfully, her voice tinged with that signature sweetness. 

"How are you today? Isn’t it just a beautiful morning?"

"Hey, Naomi," I replied, trying to match her tone.

"I’m doing alright. Sorry for doing this during class time, but I was hoping we could talk about something important?"

"Of course!" she chirped, her eyes widening with interest. 

"What’s on your mind? Is there anything I can help with?"

"It’s about Naser and Fang," I began carefully. 

"I think Naser really hurt Fang this morning, and I just wanted to see if we could maybe help smooth things over between them?"

Naomi’s smile didn’t falter, but I noticed a flicker of something behind her eyes—something calculating. 

"Oh dear, did something happen between them? Naser didn’t mention anything to me... but you know how boys can be. So forgetful sometimes!"

She giggled lightly, waving a hand as if brushing away the seriousness of the situation.

I hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

"Yeah, well...Naser accidentally called Fang by their deadname, and it really upset them. I thought maybe if we talked to Naser together, we could help him understand how much it hurt Fang."

Naomi’s eyes widened, her expression a mix of concern and exaggerated sympathy. 

"Oh no, poor Fang! That must have been awful for them! But Naser would never hurt them on purpose, you know? He just needs a little guidance... a gentle push in the right direction. Don’t you think?"

"Exactly," I agreed, though her overly sweet tone was starting to grate on me. 

"Although he appeared sorry about it, it still hurt Fang a lot. I just want to make sure he understands that."

Naomi tilted her head slightly, her smile softening as she reached out to pat my hand in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. 

"You’re such a good friend to them Anon! Always looking out for others. I’m sure with a little nudge, we can help Naser see the light. He cares so much about Fang, you know? They’re his sibling, after all."

There was something almost... rehearsed about the way she spoke, like she’d said these kinds of things a thousand times before. 

But I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Thanks, Naomi," I said, offering a small smile. 

"I appreciate your help with this."

"Oh, it’s no trouble at all!" she replied, her voice dripping with sweetness. 

"I’m always happy to help where I can. After all, we’re all friends here, right?"

I nodded, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on behind her perfectly crafted facade. 

Naomi was always so upbeat, so eager to please... but there was something about her that didn’t quite add up.

"Anon," she said, her voice soft but with that familiar upbeat tone. 

"How are things going with you and Fang anyway? I’ve heard you two, as well as Trish and Reed, have been spending a lot of time together lately?"

I glanced over at her, trying to gauge where this conversation was heading. 

Naomi had this way of asking questions that seemed harmless on the surface, but there was always something more beneath them.

Still, I couldn’t exactly brush her off, not without raising suspicions.

"Yeah, we’ve been hanging out," I replied, keeping my tone casual.

"Fang’s been really cool, helping me out with stuff, you know?"

Naomi’s smile widened, and she nodded encouragingly.

"That’s so great to hear! I’m really glad Fang’s made a new friend. They’ve always had a tough time opening up to people, so it’s nice to see them getting close to someone."

She paused, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"So, how are things between you two? I mean, are you guys just friends, or...?"

I blinked, taken aback by her directness. Naomi had a way of slipping personal questions into conversation as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

I had to be careful here, Naomi’s friendliness wasn’t something I trusted completely.

"Uh, yeah? we’re just friends."

I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I’m still getting to know them, but they’re great to hang out with. Why do you ask?"

Naomi tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. 

"Oh, I’m just curious, that’s all. Fang’s been through a lot, and it’s been so nice to see them happy!"

Her words were kind, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her interest than she was letting on.

There was an almost... calculating edge to her curiosity.

I offered her a small smile, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Thanks, Naomi. I’m just trying to be a good friend, you know? Fang’s been there for me, so I want to be there for them too."

Naomi’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a glint in her eye that made me wonder what she was really thinking.

"That’s wonderful to hear, Anon. Just remember, if you ever need any advice or help with anything, I’m always here."

With that, she turned back to her notebook, scribbling something down with that same poised, perfect grace she always had.

But even as she focused on her work.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still thinking about what I’d said.

Still planning... something behind that ever-present smile.

I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on the lesson ahead, but Naomi’s words echoed in my mind. There was something about her interest in my relationship with Fang that felt... off. 

I couldn’t put my finger on it.

But I knew I’d have to keep my guard up around her.

---

After English class wrapped up, I made my way to my next class. 

The conversation with Naomi still lingered in my mind, her cheerful but oddly probing questions about Fang making me feel like I was under a microscope.

I pushed the thought aside, trying to focus on the day ahead.

As I turned the corner, I spotted a familiar figure up ahead.

Stella.

The sight of her made my steps falter for a moment.

I couldn’t help the rush of conflicting emotions that stirred in my chest whenever I saw her.

It wasn’t just that she had lied to me about being In Japan, although that was part of it.

No, it was more complicated than that.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I had fallen for Stegostar. 

We’d spent countless nights chatting over Snootcord, organizing anime watch parties and diving deep into discussions about our favorite shows. 

The more we talked, the more I found myself drawn to her, to the way she always seemed to know exactly what to say to make me laugh or think.

But how could I ever tell her that? She was living in Japan...or so I thought.

I knew long-distance relationships rarely worked out. So, I did what I always did.

I buried those feelings deep, and told myself we were just friends.

I shook off the memory, snapping back to the present as I approached Stella. 

She was looking down at her phone, her expression a little distant, as if she was lost in her own thoughts.

When I finally got close enough, I called out to her.

“Hey, Stella!”

She jumped, her phone nearly slipping out of her hands as she spun around to face me. Her eyes were wide with surprise, and I could see the flush spreading across her cheeks.

“Oh! A-Anon... Hi!” she stammered, clearly flustered.

I winced a little.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She quickly shook her head, her flustered expression replaced by her usual smile, though there was something a little strained about it. 

“No, it’s okay! I was just... uh, in my own world, I guess.”

There was a nervousness in her voice that I hadn’t noticed before, a slight edge that made me wonder if something was wrong. 

“How have you been? We haven’t really talked since tuesday...”

Stella’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes dropping to the floor for a brief moment before she looked back up at me. 

“I’ve been fine... Just... you know, school stuff, trying to keep up with everything.”

I nodded, understanding all too well how overwhelming school could be. 

But there was something in her voice that told me there was more to it than just that. 

“You sure you’re okay? You seem... I don’t know, a little down?”

She hesitated, biting her lip as if she was debating whether or not to say something. 

“It’s nothing, really. Just... it’s been a weird week, you know?”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. 

She fidgeted with the strap of her backpack, her eyes flickering away from mine.

She finally spoke again, her voice softer, almost tentative. 

“When you told me you were hanging out with Fang and her friends the other day, I...didn't want to butt back in to your life, and annoy you with messages every day, especially after lying to you for so long..."

She trailed off, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

Of course.

I’d forgot about our conversation tuesday.

I thought it was odd that she stopped talking after I mentioned that Fang and the others were over.

But now, seeing the look on her face, 

I realized that maybe it had bothered her more than I thought.

“Stella...Fang’s great and all, but you’re still my friend too?” I said, trying to reassure her. 

“I still want us to talk Stella...hell we've got the chance to hang out Irl now right?

She looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of something.

Maybe hope, maybe doubt.

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Yeah, I know...” she replied, her smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I guess I just... never mind. It’s stupid...”

“It’s not silly if it’s bothering you,” I said gently. 

“I care about you, Stella. You’re important to me, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m... I don’t know, leaving you behind or something.”

She seemed to brighten a little at that, her shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted. 

“Thanks, Anon. That means a lot to me. I just... sometimes I worry that maybe...”

She stopped herself again, shaking her head as if to clear away whatever thought had been troubling her.

 “N-never mind, It’s nothing!. I’m just glad we’re still friends.”

We stood there for a moment, a comfortable silence settling between us, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more she wasn’t telling me.

And maybe, just maybe, there was something I wasn’t telling her either.

“Hey, how about we have another anime watch party soon?” 

I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“Just like old times!”

Stella’s smile grew a little wider, more genuine this time. 

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Just then we heard the bell ring, signalling that the next class was about to begin.

Not wanting to be late I quickly said bye to Stella and said we'd talk later to arrange a date and time for it.

---

Science class was next, and I found myself looking forward to it more than usual.

Normally, the class would probably be just another blur of notes and experiments, but today, I was excited for one reason.

Fang would be there. 

After everything that had happened earlier, I was determined to cheer them up.

To be there for them the way they’d been there for me.

Fang had helped me through some dark moments this week, and now it was my turn to return the favor.

As I walked into the classroom, my eyes immediately scanned the room for that familiar Pterosaur.

But as I took my seat, I noticed something was off.

Fang wasn’t here.

At first, I told myself they were just running late.

It wasn’t unusual for Fang to cut it close to the bell.

But as the minutes ticked by, I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in my gut.

Ten minutes passed, and still no sign of Fang.

My anxiety started to build, creeping up my spine like a cold hand.

I tried to focus on the lesson, but my mind kept drifting back to that empty chair.

Something wasn’t right.

A million scenarios ran through my head, each one worse than the last.

Was Naser’s earlier outburst still weighing on Fang?

Had something else happened after we left them?

I didn’t know, but the uncertainty was eating me alive.

I pulled out my phone, slipping it under the desk so the teacher wouldn’t notice, and quickly typed out a message to Fang.

~Hey, you okay? Where are you?~

I stared at the screen, willing a response to come through, but there was nothing.

The little dots that indicate someone’s typing never appeared. 

~Come on, Fang... answer me.~

I sent another message, and another, each one more frantic than the last. 

But the silence was deafening, and with each passing minute, my worry only grew. 

The class droned on around me, but I couldn’t focus on anything the teacher was saying. 

My thoughts were solely on Fang, and the gut feeling that something was very, very wrong.

'Fuck it.'

"Mr Fernsworth, may I be excused?"

Mr Fernsworth hands me the laminate card and I leave the class.

'Now, where to look?'

As I rushed down the halls, I retraced Fang’s usual steps in my mind, trying to think of every spot they might go if they wanted to be alone.

I checked the gym, the art room, the little alcove near the music room where they told me they sometimes liked to hang out.

But there was no sign of Fang anywhere.

Panic gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.

The more I searched, the more frantic I became. 

It was like they’d vanished into thin air, and the longer I went without finding them.

The more my stomach twisted in knots. 

Then, an idea hit me, a desperate one.

But it was all I had left.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Fang’s number.

I didn’t expect them to pick up, but maybe… just maybe, I’d hear their ringtone or the faint buzzing of their phone on vibrate.

I listened, holding my breath as the phone rang, praying for any sign of them.

**Ring.**

**Ring.**

Then, I heard it, a faint buzz, not from my phone.

But above me.

I looked up, my pulse quickening.

I sprinted toward the nearest stairwell, taking the steps two at a time, my breath coming in sharp gasps.

As I reached the top, I spotted a backpack wedged in the doorway to the roof, the phone lying on the floor beside it.

My heart skipped a beat, terror flooding my veins.

Oh god, no... Please, no...

The worst thoughts raced through my mind. I was already picturing the worst, that Fang had done something drastic.

I shoved the door open, my eyes wild as I scanned the rooftop.

But there was nothing.

Just the flat expanse of the roof, surrounded by suicide fences on all sides. 

My chest tightened, despair clawing at me. 

“I’m too late…”

But then, a sound.

Soft and broken, pulled me from the depths of my despair.

“W-who’s there!?”

The voice was trembling, thick with emotion. 

It was Fang...

My heart swelled with a mix of overwhelming relief and gut-wrenching sorrow.

I turned around, and there they were, sitting on top of the stairwell roof.

Looking more broken than I had ever seen them.

Their wings were in tatters...

Bloody clumps of feathers strewn around them like discarded remnants of their own anguish.

The gaps in their wings were stark, patches of pale blue scales, glaring through where the feathers had been torn out. 

Their arms, hands, and even their clothes were stained with blood, the crimson evidence of just how deep their pain ran.

“Fang…” 

I choked out, my voice barely a whisper as I looked up at them.

They didn’t respond right away, just looked down at me with tear-filled eyes, their whole body trembling.

The sight was almost too much to bear.

Fang, who always seemed so strong, so resilient

Reduced to this...

---

-10 minutes earlier-

Fang sat on the stairwell roof, the cold surface pressing against them, echoing the chill that had settled deep in their bones. 

The world around them seemed distant, blurred by the haze of tears they had fought so hard to hold back.

But it wasn’t just the fight with Naser that haunted them.

It was the past, a past they could never escape, no matter how hard they tried.

Naser’s apology played over and over in their mind, but it was drowned out by the echo of another memory, one far more painful, far more damning.

They could still see it, as if it had happened yesterday.

Naser, so small, so full of curiosity, standing on the edge of the cliffs of Volcaldera Bluffs.

Lucy, they were Lucy back then, had thought it would be funny, a harmless prank. Naser had asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Lucyyyyyy, if we're Pterosaurs, does that mean we can we fly?!"

And Lucy, with the careless cruelty of a child.

Had said yes.

They never imagined that Naser would actually do it.

But before they could stop him, before they could even comprehend what was happening, Naser had jumped.

The sight of his small form plummeting down, the scream that tore from his throat as he realized he couldn’t fly, would be forever seared into Fang’s memory.

The guilt had been unbearable.

They had watched in horror as Naser crashed into the rocks below, his body crumpling with a sickening finality.

For a moment, time had stopped, and all they could do was stand there, frozen, as the realization of what they had done washed over them.

Naser had survived, but his wing, once strong and full of potential.

Had been crippled by the fall.

And it was all Lucy’s fault. 

It was Fang’s fault.

It was one of the reasons Fang had shed the name Lucy, the reason they had tried to become someone else.

Someone better.

But no matter what they did, they couldn’t escape the past, couldn’t undo the damage they had caused.

And now, after everything that had happened this morning, after seeing the hurt in Naser’s eyes, Fang felt the crushing weight of their guilt return with a vengeance.

They had lashed out, told Naser to fuck off, but the truth was, they didn’t deserve his forgiveness.

They didn’t deserve anything.

They deserved his hate.

"I’m a monster," 

Fang thought bitterly, their hands trembling as they ran their claws through their feathers, pulling at the bloodied clumps in a futile attempt to punish themselves.

"I hurt him...I broke him, and now I’m making it worse."

The anger they had felt earlier, the anger at Naser, at the world, at everything, had dissolved into a pit of self-loathing that threatened to swallow them whole.

"He should hate me," they whispered to the empty rooftop, their voice cracking under the weight of the words. 

"He should hate me for what I did..."

Fang’s wings hung limply at their sides, the feathers marred and torn, a physical manifestation of the turmoil inside them.

The pain, the blood, it was all a distraction, a way to cope with the darkness that had been festering inside them for years.

But no matter how much they hurt themselves, it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

"I deserve this," they thought, their vision blurring as fresh tears welled up in their eyes. 

"I deserve all of this..."

They curled up on the roof, wrapping their wings around themselves in a feeble attempt to block out the world.

"I’m so, so, sorry, Naser,"

They whispered, the words barely audible, lost in the wind. 

"I’m so, fucking sorry."

The pain in their chest was suffocating, a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe. 

Every breath felt like a battle, every heartbeat a reminder of the life they had destroyed, the brother they had crippled.

But beneath the guilt, beneath the self-loathing, there was something else. 

A small, flickering flame of anger, anger at themselves, at their weakness, at their inability to let go of the past.

"Why can’t I just let it go...?"

They wondered, their hands clenching into fists. 

"WHY CAN'T I JUST BE FUCKING NORMAL?!"

But they knew why. 

Because they didn’t deserve to be okay. 

They didn’t deserve to be happy. 

Not after what they had done.

The darkness in their mind whispered insidiously, coaxing them further into the abyss. 

"You’ll never be free," it said.

"You’ll always be the monster who hurt Naser..."

"You’ll always be the one who broke him."

Fang squeezed their eyes shut, trying to block out the voice, trying to silence the thoughts that were tearing them apart from the inside. 

But it was no use. The guilt, the shame, the self-hatred, it was all-consuming.

A black hole that was swallowing them whole.

And then, through the haze of their despair, they heard it 

Anon’s voice.

Calling out to them, filled with worry and desperation.

"F-Fang?!"

The sound of his voice was like a lifeline, pulling them back from the edge of the abyss.

Fang looked up, blinking through their tears, their heart pounding in their chest as they realized they weren’t alone.

Anon stood at the edge of the roof, his eyes wide with concern, his expression a mix of relief and heartbreak. 

Fang tried to speak, but their throat was too tight, their voice lost in the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm them.

All they could manage was a broken whisper. 

"I’m h-here..."

Anon didn’t need words. He climbed up to where they were, sitting down beside them, his presence a silent comfort in the midst of their turmoil. 

The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words, but in that moment, Fang felt something shift inside them. 

The darkness was still there, the guilt, the shame, but it wasn’t as suffocating with Anon beside them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Fang allowed themselves to cry.

Not the tears of despair they had been holding back.

But tears of release.

Tears that were cleansed a wound, that had festered for so long.

They weren’t alone.

Not anymore.

Chapter Text

As I sit down beside Fang, my heart feels heavy, weighed down by the sight of them in such a state.

The rooftop is eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint rustle of wind against the metal fences that line the edge. 

Fang doesn’t look at me; instead, they’re focused on the bloodied feathers in their hands, their breathing shallow and shaky.

I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but everything I think of sounds hollow in my mind.

Fang had always seemed so strong, so sure of themselves, and seeing them like this...

It’s like I’m seeing a completely different person, one who is drowning in a sea of guilt and self-loathing.

“Fang...” 

I start, my voice soft, but they flinch slightly at the sound, their wings trembling as they pull them closer to their body. 

I can see the pain in their eyes, the raw emotion that they’re barely holding back.

“I know you’re angry.”

I continue, choosing my words carefully. 

“And you have every right to be...But you’re not alone, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone.”

For a moment, Fang doesn’t respond. 

They just sit there, their eyes locked on the bloodstains on their hands as if they’re trying to make sense of it all. 

Then, finally, they speak, their voice barely more than a whisper.

“It’s not just anger, Anon,” they say.

Their tone filled with a bitterness that makes my heart ache.

“It’s...guilt. I hurt Naser by saying that awful shit to him, and now... I’m just making things worse.”

I frown, confused by their words. 

“What do you mean?”

Fang hesitates, their wings twitching nervously as they try to find the strength to continue. 

When they finally speak again, their voice is filled with a deep, soul-crushing sadness.

I wanted to comfort them, to tell them that everything was going to be okay.

But they don't need me to have answers, just someone to support them...

As much as it pains me, I need to stay quiet.

They didn't try to fix me when I had my panic attack.

They knew that just being there to support me, was what mattered most.

And so I waited.

Giving Fang the moment they needed, to calm themselves enough, so that they can put into words, exactly how they're feeling.

"Anon...have you ever noticed how one of Naser’s wings is scarred...and damaged?"

Come to think of it...I do remember seeing some scar tissue on one of his wings.

Is that what they're talking about...?

"Uh, yeah I think so?"

“When we were kids...I told Naser to jump off a cliff”

I was shocked, although I barely hey confess, their voice trembling. 

“We were playing near the cliffs, and he asked if we could fly because we were Pterosaurs. I thought it would be funny to say yes, to tell him we could...”

My heart sinks as I begin to understand. 

Fang’s guilt isn’t just about the argument they had with Naser.

It’s rooted in something much deeper, something that’s been haunting them for years...

“He believed me...” Fang continues, their voice barely audible now.

“He jumped off the cliffs because I told him to, and... and he fell. He nearly died because of me. His wing... it’s my fault. It’s all my fault!”

I can see the tears welling up in Fang’s eyes as they relive the memory.

The guilt and regret they’ve carried for so long finally breaking through the surface.

They’re not just angry at Naser; they’re angry at themselves for what happened all those years ago.

“Fang, you were just a kid!” I say, trying to offer some comfort.

But they shake their head, refusing to accept it.

“That doesn’t change what happened!” they reply, their voice thick with emotion. 

“I ruined his fucking life Anon!...Because of me...his wings crippled, and I know he hates me for it... He has every right to.”

I reach out, gently placing a hand on their shoulder, trying to ground them in the present. 

“I may not know him well, but even I can tell he doesn’t hate you Fang! Hell...you were just kids for fuck sakes!"

I continue, feeling a lump in my throat.

"You had no way of knowing what he was going to do...you were a kid Fang...”

"A stupid kid sure...but that's what kids are"

But Fang doesn’t seem convinced. 

They pull away from my touch, wrapping their arms around themselves as if trying to protect what little remains of their shattered self-esteem.

“I deserve his hatred, Anon,” they whisper, their voice breaking.

“I deserve every bit of it. Maybe if he hates me enough... Maybe that’s how I can make up for what I did.”

Their words hit me like a punch to the gut. 

This isn’t just about the argument they had with Naser today.

It’s about years of guilt and self-loathing that they’ve never been able to let go of. 

Fang believes they deserve to suffer, to be punished for a mistake they made as a child.

And that’s what’s tearing them apart from the inside...

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words, but there’s nothing I can say that will erase the pain they’re feeling.

All I can do is be here for them, to let them know they’re not alone in this, even if they can’t see it right now.

“Fang, please..." 

I say, my voice filled with as much sincerity as I can muster. 

“Don’t demonize yourself."

"You don’t deserve to suffer like this... you don’t deserve to be hated... especially not by yourself!”

For a long moment, Fang doesn’t respond. 

They just sit there, staring at the blood on their hands, lost in the depths of their guilt. 

But then, slowly, they look up at me...

Their eyes filled with a mix of pain and desperation.

“Anon... I don’t know how to make this right...what if I just fuck up again?!” 

they admit, their voice barely more than a whisper. 

“It's not even just about Naser anymore!”

"Every time I look at my dad, it just feels like he's always thinking...'Where the fuck did I go wrong with you?' Everyday is another argument...and I'm tired Anon."

'I wish I had the answers they were looking for, but I do have one thing I can offer...'

“Maybe you can’t make it right...not completely."

"But...that doesn’t mean you have to carry this alone. Let us help you..."

'Let me, help you...' I think to myself.

Fang looks at me, their eyes searching mine as if trying to find some glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds them. 

And for a brief moment, I see something flicker in their gaze.

Something fragile...but real.

Maybe it’s hope. 

Maybe it’s something else.

But whatever it is.

It’s enough.

Fang nods slowly, their wings drooping slightly as they finally let go of the breath they’ve been holding. 

It’s not much, but it’s a start, a small step towards healing.

Even if the road ahead is long and uncertain...

“Okay,” They whisper, their voice barely audible. 

“Okay...”

I offer them a reassuring smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s something.

And for now, that’s enough...

As we sit there, side by side on the rooftop, the weight of Fang’s guilt slowly begins to lift, if only just a little.

And in that moment, I realize that this isn’t just about helping Fang.

It’s about helping each other find our way through the darkness.

Together...

Because that’s what friends do.

And no matter what happens next.

I’m not going to let Fang go through this alone.

Not ever again...

---

Seeing that Fang has calmed down a bit, I stay by their side, not wanting to leave them alone just yet.

The atmosphere on the rooftop is still tense, but it’s starting to ease up, little by little. 

I try to lighten the mood, cracking a few jokes and making small talk, anything to keep their mind off of whatever dark place they had just been in.

As we talk, my eyes drift down to their wings and arms, and that’s when I notice just how bad things really are. 

The places where Fang had preened their feathers are still bleeding, small droplets of blood staining the ground around us. It’s not just a few scratches.

They’re actually bleeding pretty heavily.

“Fang, your wings...” I start, my voice trailing off as the concern in my tone becomes evident.

Fang glances down at their arms, as if just now realizing the extent of the damage they’ve done to themselves.

They frown, looking almost embarrassed.

“Yeah... I guess I overdid it,” they admit, trying to sound nonchalant, but I can hear the underlying worry in their voice.

“You think?” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, but I can’t help the edge of concern creeping in.

“You need to get to the nurse’s office, Fang. You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

Fang hesitates, clearly reluctant to go see the nurse. 

“It’s fine, Anon. I’ve had worse. I’ll be okay.”

But I shake my head, not letting them brush it off. 

“No way. You need to get this cleaned up before you lose too much blood.”

They sigh, knowing I’m right but still not wanting to go. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll go. But I hate going to the nurse...”

I can see the discomfort in their eyes, and I can’t blame them. 

But I’m not about to let them walk around with open wounds like this.

“Hold on, there’s no need to go all the way there,” I say, already reaching into my backpack. 

“I’ve got some stuff that should help.”

Fang looks at me in confusion as I start rummaging through my bag, pulling out a small first aid kit that I’ve been carrying around ever since I got to Volcano High.

It’s got bandages, ointment, and even a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“Why do you have all this?” Fang asks, genuinely curious but also a little amused.

I smirk, trying to keep the mood light. 

“Hey, hanging around you troublemakers is hazardous to my health. Just making sure I live past the first week!”

Fang chuckles softly, shaking their head. 

“You’re such a dweeb, Anon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply, already dabbing some hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball. 

“Now hold still. This might sting a little.”

They wince slightly as I gently clean the wounds on their wings and arms, but they don’t pull away.

I work quickly but carefully, making sure to cover all the spots that are still bleeding. 

Once the wounds are clean, I apply some ointment and start wrapping their arms in bandages.

As I work, Fang stays quiet, watching me with an unreadable expression. 

I can tell they’re still feeling down, but there’s something else in their eyes too, something softer.

Almost grateful.

“There," I say as I finish up, tying off the last bandage. 

“All done. You should be good now, but make sure you change the bandages later, okay?”

Fang nods, looking at their newly bandaged arms with a small, appreciative smile. 

“Thanks, Anon... I'm...really glad we became friends... you had every right to not like me. Hell, I was constantly glaring and giving you shit when we first met.”

I shrug, trying to play it off. 

“Hey, it's not like I gave the best, first mpression, I'm just glad you didnt judge a book by it's cover, y'know?”

I notice Fang takes a quick look at me, and I see just the slightest sight of their smile.

'Beautiful...'

For a moment, we just sit there in silence, the weight of everything that’s happened still lingering between us. 

But it feels different now, less heavy, more manageable.

“You’re a good...friend, Anon...” 

Fang says quietly, their voice filled with a sincerity that takes me by surprise.

I look at them, seeing the genuine gratitude in their eyes, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest. 

“You too, Fang. We’ve got each other’s backs, remember?”

Fang nods, their smile growing a little wider. 

“Yeah...we do, don’t we dweeb?”

As we sit there, side by side.

But then, something shifts inside me. 

Now that things have calmed down, I find myself feeling… flustered. 

Sitting here, so close to Fang, I can’t help but realize what I’ve been pushing to the back of my mind for days now.

I like them...A lot...

And the feeling is… different this time. 

It’s not some distant crush on a person miles away who I only know through a screen. 

Fang is right here, next to me, smiling and laughing with me.

My heart starts to beat faster, and I try to shake it off, but it’s no use. 

I catch Fang glancing at me from the corner of their eye, and I swear there’s something there...is it something more than just friendship?

...Could they feel...the same way?

Before I can dwell on it too much, we both start talking, but the conversation is a little awkward, both of us stumbling over our words.

There’s a tension between us now, but it’s not the bad kind. 

It’s… something else, something new.

Just when it feels like we might be getting somewhere, there’s a loud bang from below.

My heart skips a beat as I see the rooftop door blast off its hinges and fly through one of the panels in the suicide fence, crashing into the parking lot below. 

I don’t need to guess who’s responsible. 

There’s only one person at this school with that kind of power.

Principal Spears.

O H  F U C K

“WHO THE FUCK IS UP HERE?! SHOW YOURSELF NOW!” 

Spears’ voice booms, echoing across the rooftop. 

"IF I DON'T SEE SOMEONE IN THE NEXT 5 SECONDS, IM HUNTING YOU DOWN, AND SUPLEXING YOUR ASS OFF THE GODDAMN ROOF!”

Fang and I exchange a look, knowing we don’t have much choice. We announce our presence, and I quickly come up with a story, hoping to soften the blow.

“I-It’s my fault, sir!” I say, stepping forward. 

“I wasn’t feeling great mentally and needed to leave class. Fang was just worried about me and came looking for me!”

Spears narrows his eyes, looking at us both. 

He’s not buying it, I can tell, but he sighs and allows us to leave.

“Fine...” he says, his tone still stern. 

“But Fang, head to the nurse’s office. You look a little... under the weather.”

Fang and I both know he’s onto us, but we don’t argue. 

Fang gives me a small smile and a wave as they head for the door, leaving me alone with Spears.

When I turn back around, I see Spears standing by the hole in the suicide fence, staring out over Volcaldera.

He gestures for me to join him, and I reluctantly walk over.

For a moment, we both just stand there, looking out at the city. 

I’m expecting him to start laying into me about skipping class, but instead, he surprises me.

“I’m proud of you, Anon,” Spears says, his voice low and sincere. 

“It’s good to see you making friends.”

I blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. 

“Uh, thanks, sir. But… why are you telling me this?”

Spears sighs, looking out over the horizon. 

“This has been one of the most interesting first weeks of school I’ve seen in a long time, Anon. But it’s not just that. You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

I raise an eyebrow, curious. 

“Really?”

He nods, a distant look in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Back when I was in high school, I was the only human at a school full of dinosaurs. I hated everyone and everything. Spent so much time being angry at the world, that I didn’t have time to enjoy the good parts of it.”

Spears pauses, as if lost in thought. 

Then he continues. 

“I was a bit of a thug back then. Big, strong, looked intimidating. And I had a short fuse. Anyone who made a comment or tried to mess with me got a fist to the face."

"I thought I was proving something, showing everyone that I wasn’t someone to mess with. But all I did was isolate myself.”

He glances at me, as if gauging my reaction, before going on. 

“One day, after a fight, I was called into the principal’s office. I expected the usual lecture, but instead, he asked me why I was so angry all the time. I told him to just expel me already, but he didn’t do that."

"Instead, he took me to the schools gym.”

Spears smiles faintly at the memory. 

“He led me to the boxing ring and told me to get in. Said he was going to 'teach me a lesson, not with words, but with actions'."

"At first, I thought it was a joke, but he was serious. I went at him with everything I had, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t land a single hit.”

He chuckles softly. 

“He threw me around that ring like a ragdoll, and when I was finally too exhausted to keep going, he helped me up and told me something I’ll never forget.”

I look up at him, curious. 

“What did he say?”

Spears meets my gaze, his expression serious. 

"‘You are not the only person in the world. Everyone’s fighting their own battles.’”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I nod slowly, taking them to heart. 

“Thanks, sir.”

Spears gives me a small, approving nod. 

“Remember that, Anon. It’s important.”

With that, he turns and starts walking back toward the door, leaving me alone on the rooftop. I stand there for a moment longer, letting his words sink in.

Everyone’s fighting their own battles… I guess that’s something I need to keep in mind, especially with everything going on with Fang, Naser, and the others.

As I finally head back inside, I can’t help but feel like I’ve learned something important today. Something that’s going to stick with me for a long time.

---

As I left Spears behind on the rooftop, I headed straight for lunch. My stomach growled in protest.

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was after all that tension and adrenaline. 

Plus, I knew I needed to eat something if I was going to get through the rest of the day.

Spears had made it clear: I had to attend my remaining classes, no more skipping. 

He wasn’t thrilled about what had gone down, but at least he let me off without any major punishment.

I guess I could thank Fang for that, they definitely had it worse than me today.

As I walked, I shot off a quick text to Reed and Trish, asking if they could meet me in the auditorium. 

It was one of the few places on campus where we could hang out without too many people bothering us. 

A minute later, they both replied with a thumbs up emoji.

When I reached the auditorium, it was mostly empty, save for a few students who were chatting in the back.

I took a seat near the stage, trying to shake off the heaviness of the last hour.

Fang was still on my mind, even if I knew they were safe... I couldn’t stop worrying about them.

They’d looked so rough, and hearing the whole story with Naser, years of that on their shoulders, had clearly taken a toll on them.

A few minutes later, I spotted Reed and Trish walking in together. 

Reed had his usual laid-back grin, and Trish looked as intense as ever. As they approached, I waved them over.

“Yo, dude!” Reed greeted me, dropping into the seat next to me. 

Trish followed suit, her gaze sharp as she studied my face.

“You okay, Anon?” Trish asked, her tone more serious than usual. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… you know, a lot going on.”

Reed leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms behind his head. 

“you got any idea what's up with Fang dude? We heard they were in the nurse’s office.”

I hesitated, not wanting to spill everything. 

If Fang wanted them to know the details, they would have told them. 

Still, I didn’t want to leave them completely in the dark.

“They’re alright,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

“Just… having a rough day. I found them on the roof earlier. They weren’t doing too great... but we talked for a bit, and I think they’re feeling a little better now.”

Trish frowned, her worry evident. “What were they doing up there? Did it have something to do with earlier?”

I nodded slowly. 

“Yeah… It really messed with them. But I don’t think it’s my place to say more than that.”

Reed’s relaxed demeanor faded slightly, concern seeping into his expression. 

“That sucks, man. Fang’s tough, but even they have limits, y'know?”

“Yeah, exactly,” I agreed, appreciating that Reed understood. 

“I just wanted to make sure you guys knew they’re getting some help. They’re in the nurse’s office, and they should be okay. Just… don’t push them too much about it, alright?”

Trish growled, anxiously running a hand through her hair. 

"I'm gonna fuck that winged retard up, next time I see him!"

“Trish, I'm not gonna say what Fang told me about, but it wasn't entirely to do with earlier, but trust me when I say this...the last thing Fang wants you to do right now, is attacking their brother, trust me..."

Trish had a look of confusion for a moment, taking in the words I said, and I do see a briefest bit of anger, but as she gazes directly at me, she takes a deep breath, and unbleached her fists.

"...fine" Trish finally said.

There was a brief silence between us, each of us lost in our own thoughts. 

It wasn’t often that we found ourselves in this kind of situation, unsure of what to do. 

Usually, we were all about jokes and banter, but this was different. 

It was heavier... more real.

“So… what now?” Reed asked finally, breaking the silence.

“I guess we just… wait,” I said, not having a better answer. 

“Wait and be there for Fang when they’re ready to talk. I'm going to go talk to Naser after school with naomi..."

Trish's anger instantly comes back threefold.

"FUCKING WHAT?!"

She staring daggers straight at me, but I can’t back down.

"Trish calm the fuck down! Naomi is fake as fuck sure, but if there's anyone that's gonna be able to help get through to him, it's her!"

Trish looks like she's about to start foaming at the mouth with anger, it's clear that whatever I was saying didn't matter.

Thankfully, before Trish could get a word in, Reed put his hand on Trish’s shoulder, seemingly snapping her out of Naomi induced hatred.

“He's got a point Trish… you need anyone else with you bro?”

"Nah I'll be good man, I feel that the less people there, the better."

Reed smiled, Trish was still looking pretty unhappy about it, but there's nothing I could do about that unfortunately.

"Alright bro...I'd wish you good luck with it, but I know that things’ll be fine if you're there dude!"

I appreciated Reed’s faith in me, truth be told I was pretty nervous this was going to blow up in my face.

But after seeing Reed putting his faith in me, it reinvigorated me.

I was going to get through to him...

For Fang's sake.

Wanting to lighten the mood a little, I figured I'd give Reed the answer to his offer from yesterday.

"Hey Reed"

"Hmm? Sup bro?

"That offer you made yesterday...is it still available?"

Reed's eyes went wide, it takes him all of a second, for him to develop the biggest shit eating grin.

I've ever seen to grace the pink raptors face.

"Bro...you serious?"

I flash a grin back at the pink raptor before me.

"Yeah dude...when do I start boss?"

"Dude, none of that boss shit, I meant what I said, we're partners, okay bro?

I walk forward towards Reed, face to face with one another, I extend my hand to him.

"Alright...partner!"

Reed then pulls me in the biggest bear hug the raptor could muster.

Ow

"Reed...can't...breath"

Reed immediately let's go and winces.

"Ooooh....sorry bro, kinda forgot about your injuries...my bad!"

"Raptor Christ, will you two quit jerkin' each other off?"

We both turn to look and see Trish has her arms crossed with a look of feigned annoyance.

Then...i have the perfect idea, to get back at the pint-sized terror...

"Aww, feeling left out Trish...?"

I shoot Reed a look, and he instantly knows what I'm thinking.

"All you had to do was say Trish...come, hug it out!"

Trish then has an expression I'd never thought I'd ever see.

Pure fear

Reed breaks away from me...and starts to stalk towards her.

"Reeeed...stay the fuck awayyyy!..."

Reed continues stalk closer, sizing up his prey.

"Mmmmmmm"

"NOPE!"

All hell immediately breaks loose as Reed breaks into a full sprint, chasing her around the auditorium.

I knew Trish was fast.

But raptor christ...she had nothing on Reed.

Within thirty seconds, Reed had caught the pint-sized terror, and was constricting her in a bone crushing embrace.

What is most peculiar though...Although Trish looks like she fighting back, I spot something.

'Do I spot a hint of blush to her cheeks...?'

Oh.

Looks like the shortstack...has a weakness for raptors...

I'm so going to tease the shit out of her for this...

Not wanting Fang to miss out, I snap a quick picture and send it their way.

Fang: OH. MY. GOD.

Fang: If she ever sees this picture...she's going to bury you dweeb.

I smirk and shoot a few texts back and forth with Fang.

She seems like she's back to regular self.

Thank...god.

---

After lunch, I made my way to my next class, but I could hardly focus. 

The teacher's voice was just background noise, and the words on the board blurred together. My mind was too wrapped up in what was coming next.

Talking to Naser.

The more I thought about it, the more I questioned whether or not to bring up what Fang had revealed on the rooftop.

It wasn’t just a simple misunderstanding between siblings, this was something that had clearly weighed on Fang for years.

If I confronted Naser about it, there was no telling how he might react.

But if I didn’t say anything, would I be letting Fang down?

There was also the question of timing.

Talking to Naser about what fang said in front of Naomi, was out of the question.

I didn’t trust her, not with something as sensitive as this. 

Whatever front she put on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind that perfect smile.

Before I knew it, class was over, and it was time for the meeting. 

My stomach twisted with nerves as I headed out, still not sure what I was going to say or do. 

All I knew was that I had to try. 

I couldn’t just stand by and let this rift between Fang and Naser grow any wider.

As I walked down the hall, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what was coming. 

Whatever happened next...

I had to be ready.

---

As I approached the meeting spot, my nerves were on edge. 

My mind was racing, replaying every possible outcome of the conversation with Naser. 

The hallway was quiet now, most students having already made their way home, leaving a tense silence that only added to my anxiety.

Naser was already waiting for me, leaning against a wall with an expression that was hard to decipher. 

"Anon." 

Naser greeted me with a nod, trying to sound casual, but there was tension in his voice that he couldn’t quite hide.

I forced a smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace. 

"Hey, Naser. Naomi."

"Hi, Anon!" Naomi chirped, her voice sweet and polished.

I glanced between them, trying to figure out the best way to start. 

My plan... or lack of one, was starting to feel even shakier now that I was here. 

As the conversation with Naser began, I could sense that he was already on edge, likely anticipating a discussion about the auditorium incident. 

His posture was stiff, his expression was one of subdued guilt. 

Naomi, ever the picture of prim and proper composure, stood by his side, her smile unwavering but her eyes watchful.

"So, Anon, you wanted to talk about the auditorium thing, right?" 

Naser started, his voice tinged with reluctance. He seemed ready to dive into apologies for the pizzas and the unexpected chaos that had followed.

I nodded, but I quickly cut to the chase. 

"Yeah, that’s part of it, Naser. But this is actually more about what happened this morning."

I paused, letting my words sink in before continuing. 

"Specifically, when you deadnamed Fang..."

Naser blinked, his face falling as he realized the gravity of the conversation. 

"Oh… that," he mumbled, his voice dropping. 

"I really fucked up...didn’t I?"

"It’s not just about fucking up, Naser," I said, trying to keep my tone firm but not accusatory.

"It’s about understanding why what you did hurt so much. Fang was already upset, and then when you called them… Lucy. It really hit them hard."

Naser looked down at his feet, clearly ashamed of himself. 

"I didn’t mean to, Anon. It was an accident, I swear. I just… I was desperate to get them to listen, and the name slipped out. I wasn’t thinking!"

"I believe you," I replied, softening slightly. 

"But that doesn’t change the fact that it hurt them. You’re their brother, Naser. You saw how upset they were when you said it."

He nodded slowly, his expression twisted with regret. 

"I know… I just—" He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"I don’t know what to do, man. I've tried everything to try and talk to them...they're my sibling for raptors sake!"

"It’s because it’s not just a name, Naser," I explained, hoping to get through to him. 

"It’s about who they are. Deadnaming them, even accidentally, can make them feel like you don’t see or accept them for who they really are...And when it comes from family… it cuts even deeper."

Naser’s shoulders slumped, and I could see the realization dawning on him. 

He hadn’t just made a mistake.

He’d inadvertently reopened an old wound, one that had never fully healed.

"I… I didn’t think about it like that," he admitted quietly. 

"I was so caught up in trying to get them to talk to me that I didn’t stop to think about how my words would affect them."

"It’s good that you realize that now," I said, my voice softening further.

"But you need to talk to Fang. Really talk. And not just about this morning. There’s a lot of...history, between you two that needs to be said."

Naser looked up at me, a mix of determination and uncertainty in his eyes. 

"Fuck...you’re right, Anon. I owe them a real conversation. I just… I don’t know where to start."

"Start with an apology," I suggested.

"But beyond that, listen to what they have to say. They need to know that you’re willing to see things from their perspective, even if it’s hard."

Naser nodded again, more resolutely this time.

"I’ll talk to them. I have to make this right."

I gave him a small, encouraging smile. 

"You will, Just be honest with them. That’s what they need from you right now."

As the conversation wrapped up, Naomi, who had been listening quietly, gave Naser a gentle squeeze on the arm. 

"You’re doing the right thing, Naser. Just be there for them."

Naser gave her a weak smile in return, though it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere, likely on the impending conversation with Fang.

As they turned to leave, I pull Naser aside for a moment. 

He paused, looking at me with a questioning expression.

"One more thing, Naser," I said, my tone serious. 

"You and Fang need to talk about...what happened at the cliffs..."

Naser’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something. 

Guilt?

He nodded, understanding the weight of my words.

"Yeah," he murmured, glancing briefly back at Naomi before turning back to me. 

"We will."

I watched them walk away, my heart heavy with the knowledge of what lay ahead.

Fang and Naser had a lot to work through, and it wouldn’t be easy.

But at least now, they had a chance to start healing. And that was something worth fighting for.

---

Walking through the school gates, I pulled out my phone, shooting a quick message to Reed and Trish in the group chat.

Me: Just got out of the meeting with Naser. Heading home now.

Reed: *Yo! How’d it go, dude?*

Trish: *Did you chew him out for deadnaming Fang?*

I hesitated before typing out my reply.

Me: Yeah, I talked to him about it. I think he gets how much he messed up, but there’s still a lot they need to work through.

Trish: *Good. He better not screw up again.*

Reed: *Fingers crossed he pulls his head out of his ass this time.*

I couldn’t help but chuckle at Reed’s comment. It felt good to have friends who had my back, and who cared just as much about Fang as I did.

Me: Yeah, let’s hope. Anyway, I’m heading to work, catch you guys tomorrow!

Trish: *Haha, don’t get too burnt out, baldy*

Reed:*Moe’s pizza sounds good right about now… Bring some leftovers tomorrow?*

Me: *I’ll see what I can do, lol.*

I put my phone back in my pocket, a small smile on my face as I walked through the familiar streets of Skinrow.

Despite the tension of the day, it was moments like these, chatting with friends, feeling like I belonged somewhere, that made it all worthwhile.

As I neared my apartment, the reality of the evening ahead began to sink in. 

Working at Moe’s wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it was a job, and it kept me afloat. Plus, it wasn’t all bad. Moe could be gruff, but he wasn’t a bad guy. And the regulars who came in had their own quirky charm.

Unlocking the door to my apartment, I stepped inside, the familiar scent of home greeting me.

It wasn’t much, but it was mine. I dropped my backpack on the floor and took a moment to just breathe, letting the events of the day slowly fade away.

But there was no time to relax. I had a shift to get ready for.

I changed into my work uniform, the black polo with Moe’s Pizzeria logo stitched on the chest, and grabbed my keys.

Before heading out, I shot one last message to the group chat with fang included.

Me: *Off to Moe’s. Wish me luck!*

Trish: *Good luck, Anon! Don’t let Moe give you too much shit.*

Reed: *Remember the pizza partner!*

I shook my head, laughing softly as I headed out the door, locking it behind me.

The evening air was cool as I made my way to Moe’s, the neon lights of the pizzeria glowing in the distance.

Whatever the night had in store, I felt ready for it.

Just hope the old T-Rex ain't too pissed about yesterday...

Chapter Text

Walking into Moe’s Pizzeria that evening, I couldn’t shake the nervous energy thrumming through my veins. 

Moe had sounded okay over the phone yesterday when I’d called to apologize for missing work, but there was still a small part of me that worried. 

I’d heard and seen enough, to know that Moe wasn’t just a humble restaurant owner. 

He ran the restaurant with an iron fist sure, but people like Paulie weren’t just hanging around for decoration.

Especially when i knew Paulie had a gun, from when Reed and I were getting the crap kicked out of us and that back alley...

That was enough to make me sweat a little.

“Alright, Anon,” I muttered to myself as I tied on my apron. 

“Just focus on the job. Give it 110%, and maybe Moe won’t have you... 'swimmin with the fishes'.”

The pizzeria was buzzing with activity, the usual evening rush in full swing. 

The smell of fresh dough and bubbling cheese filled the air, mingling with the scents of marinara, garlic and Moes wide range of herbs.

Customers packed into booths, chattering away as they waited for their orders, the sound of clinking plates and laughter was almost deafening.

But it was a familiar kind of noise... the sort that felt like home after a while.

I threw myself into the work, determined to make up for lost time. 

Every table I cleaned was left spotless, the lemon-scented cleaner a sharp contrast to the rich smells of the pizzeria.

I took out the trash without being asked, making sure every bin was emptied and lined with a fresh bag. 

Even in the kitchen, I was there whenever someone needed an extra hand, whether it was sliding a pizza into the oven or stirring a pot of sauce.

Despite the flurry of activity, I couldn’t help but worry about the inevitable conversation with Moe.

I was grateful for the job, for the chance he’d given me, and the last thing I wanted was to screw it up.

Finally, when the rush started to slow down.

I heard Moe’s familiar voice calling from the back.

“Ay, Anon! Get your butt in here, kid!”

I swallowed hard, wiping my hands on my apron before heading towards his office. 

My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped inside. Moe’s office was the same as always...

Cluttered with invoices, old pizza boxes, and that ever-present scent of tomato sauce.

Moe sat behind his desk, a towering T-rex with a face that could either break into a smile.

Or tear you apart with a look...

He motioned for me to sit down, his expression unreadable. 

“So, Anon,” Moe began, his thick Italian accent rolling off his tongue. 

“Youse been doin’ a good job tonight. But we gotta talk about yesterday kid...”

My throat went dry. 

“I-I’m really sorry, Moe. Something came up and—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Moe interrupted, waving a massive clawed hand in the air. 

“Relax, kid! I ain’t mad, alright? But ya gotta understand somethin’.”

He leaned forward, his gaze intense. 

“Youse gotta be reliable in dis line of work. People, dey’re countin’ on ya, capisce?”

I nodded quickly, my stomach in knots. 

“Understood, Moe... It won’t happen again.”

Moe sighed, his expression softening just a fraction. 

“What happened anyway kid? Did those punks come afta' you?

Moe points to my eye, I figured this'd come up...

"Nah Moe, just school shit, some guy talked shit about my friends during their bands performance, and said some... awful gross shit to one of em, so I got pissed off and tried to deck the guy, then the next day the guy cornered me in the bathroom and beat the shit outta me..."

Moe looks deep in thought as he listens to me recount what happened.

"Hmmm... youse' got a knack for gettin' in trouble, don't youse'? 

I chuckle.

"Heh, somethin' like that..."

The old mustached T-Rex smirks at that.

"Look kid, it's admirable youse stickin' up for your friends, but youse gotta stop, pickin' fights ya can't win kid..."

"Appreciate the advice moe, but I don't care...I'd rather break every bone in my body...than have those I care about get hurt."

Moe’s eyes get wide for a moment, before they quickly soften, and with it, a smirk.

"In that case, here..."

Moe opens his desk and slides a small box over to me, the box itself isn't anything unique, but when I feel the weight of it.

'It's heavy...?'

"M-moe, I a-appreciate it, but I don't think I need a gu-"

Moe then proceeds to smack his forehead with his hand, but does break into a laugh.

"Raptor Christ kid...It ain't a fuckin' gun!"

"It's...not?"

"Christ kid jus' open it!"

I shut up immediately and turn my eyes back to the box and open the lid, and what I see is certainly...

Unexpected.

A pair of matte black steelknuckle dusters lay within the box.

"Holy shit."

The T-rex, almost on cue laughs uproariously.

"IF, youse' ain't gonna stop scrapping kid...then these should even th' odds for youse."

The knuckle dusters are heavy in my hands, but it's a good weight...

'Damn...I'm could pack a punch with these.'

Moe looks serious for a moment, "One thing Anon...if I ever hear youse' used em on normal folks...well, I'll be sure to send Paulie to have a word...Capisce?"

I nodded again, trying to keep my voice steady. 

“T-thank you for these Moe, I promise these'll be for asshole only...And thanks, I’m really grateful for this job, and for everything else you've done for me Moe."

Moe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“Ahh, Fuggedabout-it kid! Happy to help one of the Familia!"

Relief washed over me like a wave, and I managed a small smile. 

“Thanks, Moe...I won’t let you down.”

“Ey, I know you won’t, kid!"

Moe gave me a rare, toothy grin before shooing me out of his office. 

“Now get back out there. We got pizzas to sell!”

As I left Moe’s office, I felt a little lighter...

Sure, the job wasn’t easy, and the pressure could be intense, but at least I knew where I stood.

And with Moe’s words still echoing in my ears, I headed back into the pizzeria.

Determined to give it everything I had!

---

I was walking home after my shift, the streets quiet under the dim glow of streetlamps.

The cool night air did little to settle my nerves after the long day.

The pizzeria had been bustling as usual, but the conversation I had with Moe, was still bouncing around in my head...

Moe, of all people, had shown me more care in a week, than my own parents had in a lifetime.

It was hard to admit, but it hit me like a punch in the gut.

My mom?

She was there, physically anyway, but she never really did anything.

She was more like a shadow that followed my dad...

Paron, around.

Whatever he said, she repeated.

Whatever he did, she stood by and watched.

It was like she didn’t even have a personality of her own.

But Paron?

He was the real problem.

Ex-military, always drunk, and forever bitter.

He had a way of making me feel like I was nothing. 

Hell, he made it his mission to remind me that I was.

“A mistake...”

He’d spit those words at me every chance he got, just to drive home the fact that I would never measure up to him. 

Not that I ever wanted to.

The bitter irony was that Moe, the guy I was terrified of disappointing, had become the closest thing I had to a father figure.

In less than a week, Moe had offered me advice, guidance, and something that almost resembled respect.

It was more than Paron had ever bothered to give me.

Then, like an unwanted weight.

Memories of...that night, came flooding back...

---

~??? Weeks Ago~

It was one of those nights where the rain wouldn’t let up, pouring down like it had something to prove.

I had walked through it, drenched, but that was the least of my worries.

Honestly, the rain was the best part of that day. 

Everything else?

It had left me numb.

I stumbled through my house, not really thinking, not really feeling.

The bruises, the cuts...none of it mattered. 

I went straight to the bathroom. 

My shirt stuck to my back, and every time I moved, it felt like I was being stabbed with tiny needles.

When I finally peeled the shirt off, I winced as it ripped away from the dried bloodied wounds.

And then I saw it.

In the mirror...

The...'Gift' that Bishop had left me with.

There, across my left shoulder blade, were over a hundred cigarette burns.

But...they weren’t just burns.

They were clustered together in a grotesque pattern that made my stomach churn. 

The raw, inflamed skin formed a honeycomb of blistering flesh, the pits...varying in depth, some fresh, some scabbing over.

But it wasn’t just the pain that made me sick...

It was the look of it.

That repulsive... trypophobic pattern made something in me twist...

Before I knew it, I was hunched over the sink.

Spewing todays lunch.

I barely had time to catch my breath when the banging started on the bathroom door.

My father’s voice cut through the air, slurred and pissed off.

“Hurry the fuck up, boy! I need to take a piss!”

I didn’t even have time to pull myself together before the door was kicked open, and there he was.

Looking at me like I was just an inconvenience...

“What the fuck’s taking you so long!?”

For some reason, maybe for the last time, I thought maybe he’d care.

Maybe... he’d finally see me.

His son.

And finally... give a damn.

“D-dad... B-bishop...H-he-!” 

I turned, showing him the burns.

Still feeling raw and broken...

“He... he called me his A-ashtray, D-dad....!"

"H-he...did t-this to me!”

The words started spilling out, and I felt myself break down.

My voice cracked, my eyes stung, and for a moment, I thought I might cry.

Then his hand, came out of nowhere.

Slapping me so hard across the face that my head bounced off the tiles floor when I hit the ground...

I try to get away, but he grabs me by the arm...

Yanking me up...until we were eye-to-eye.

“STOP... your fucking whining...” His voice was cold, venomous. 

“You think I give a shit?

You think anyone cares about your little sob story?

You’re weak.

Pathetic.

No son of MINE... would let someone do that to him...”

And then, I saw it. In his eyes. It wasn’t disappointment...

Not this time.

It was disgust.

He shoved me away like I was something he didn’t even want to look at, and stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

I collapsed back onto the floor, the sting of his slap still burning on my face.

But that wasn’t what hurt the most.

It was the way he looked at me. 

Like I was nothing. 

...

Like I was less than nothing.

'...Fucking bastard...'

The weight of that memory hung over me as I walked home from Moe’s, each step feeling heavier than the last. 

It was a long walk, and the night was quiet, but my thoughts were anything but.

"God...why couldn't he have just, killed me...?"

I was lost in thought, my footsteps the only sound accompanying me.

*BZZT*

*BZZT*

Im immediately snapped out of my depressing thoughts as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

Fang: You finished work yet?

Anon: Yeah, just finished work.

Anon: What’s up Fang? You good?

Fang: Yeah im fine, can we meet up?

Fang: We need to talk.

A wave of anxiety hits me as I read those words.

Anon: Uh...sure, where are you?

Fang: The park, meet me at the bench.

Anon: Be there in 10.

---

My heart sank as I read the message. 

It wasn’t like Fang to reach out like this, especially not at this time of night.

'Shit...something must’ve happened.'

Naser maybe?

My pace quickened as I made my way toward the park, worry gnawing at me with every step.

---

When I finally reached the park, Fang was sitting on a bench under one of the flickering streetlamps.

Their wings drooped low, and even from a distance, I could see their face.

Streaked with tears...

I approached cautiously, heart racing. 

"Fang...? What's wrong?"

They looked up, and the hurt in their eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. 

"You...FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

They launched at me, their voice shaked with anger.

I just about avoided Fang, before retorting, in a shocked voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK FANG?!"

"YOU TOLD HIM DIDN'T YOU?!"

"HE FUCKING CAME INTO MY ROOM ANON!"

The emotion in her words told me everything...

They knew...

Fang's voice hitches again, taking the anger out of their voice, making it quiet and raspy, as they continued.

"H-he...wanted to t-talk about the...a-accident!"

I froze...

I could see it now, the connection they’d made.

My heart dropped, guilt weighing me down. 

"F-fang, I didn’t mean to—!"

"Didn’t mean to...what, Anon?" 

Fang shot back, their wings fluttering angrily. 

"YOU BROKE MY TRUST!"

"I CONFIDED IN YOU!"

Fangs voice cracks again, making their next words a low rasp.

"Y-you...y-you were the first person I ever told... A-anon..."

Tears spilled over as they stood up, pacing back and forth, hands running through their feathers, plucking at their wings in frustration.

"Do you know what that’s like...? To finally open up to someone, to share something so personal, and then...they go behind your back!?"

I stood there, my mind scrambling for something, anything to say that could fix this. 

"Fuck Fang...I’m so s-sorry! I... I thought it would help if you and N-naser t-talked...! I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you!"

Fang stopped pacing and turned to me, eyes red, face wet with tears. 

"It doesn’t matter what you meant, Anon! I didn’t need you to fix anything! I didn’t need you to play hero or mediator... I j-just... I needed you to be there f-for me!"

Their words hit me hard.

I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest.

I tried to speak, tried to find the right words, but they cut me off.

"You don’t get it!" they shouted, voice cracking.

"You don’t get to decide what’s best for me! That’s not what I needed from you! You were supposed to be my friend. And now...!?"

"Now I can't even fucking look at you!"

I opened my mouth to apologize again, but it was too late. 

Fang was done. 

Their wings flapped hard, a physical manifestation of their frustration and hurt. 

"Fuck off... Anon..."

"Just... fuck off..."

Those words stung more than I could have imagined.

My mind was reeling, heart sinking as I watched them storm off, leaving me standing there alone in the park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

For a second, I wanted to follow, to say something, anything to make it better.

But I knew... deep down, I knew, I couldn’t fix this...

Not this time. 

I fucked up... and there was no going back.

I stood there, feeling the cold bite of the night air. 

Resigned to the silence. 

---

I walked home that night with the weight of the world crushing my chest. 

The conversation with Fang had left me hollow, drained of any semblance of hope. 

I couldn’t feel anything anymore, not anger, not sadness. Just... nothing. 

I had fucked up. 

Royally.

My feet dragged across the sidewalk, the streetlights casting long shadows that seemed to mock me. 

I barely noticed the cold biting at my skin.

Every word Fang had spat at me replayed in my mind on an endless loop. 

Their betrayal...

Their pain...

My...

Stupidity.

'You don’t get to fix me... You broke my trust..."

My stomach twisted violently with every recollection, but I deserved it. 

Hell, I deserved worse. What was I thinking, telling Naser? 

I should have kept my mouth shut, but no... I just had to play the hero. 

Always needing to step in and fix things. 

It wasn't my place, and I ruined everything because of it. 

I trudged forward, barely seeing the path ahead. My thoughts were louder than the world around me. I hated myself. 

I was disgusted with myself. 

'How could I betray Fang like that?'

How could I take the one thing they confided in me and use it against them?

'You were the first person I ever told...'

God, why did those words hurt so much?

They trusted me. 

They told me about the accident, something that scarred them for life, and I just threw it all away, thinking I knew better. 

That I could solve their problems. 

'Why did I think I could fix it?'

I felt like vomiting, like every part of me was unworthy of the ground I was walking on.

I wasn’t a friend. 

I wasn’t anything. 

---

The street stretched ahead of me, the night feeling eternal, like a punishment I couldn’t escape.

I thought back to what Moe had said earlier, how he was proud of me for stepping up, for having friends. 

What a fucking joke.

Moe probably thought I was some sort of reliable guy, but if he knew what I had done... 

Hell, if anyone knew the truth... they’d see me for what I really am.

A failure.

As I walked up the stairs to my apartment, the feeling of isolation wrapped tighter around me. I was back where I started. 

Alone.

...

Again...

Chapter Text

I'm sat in my apartment, the dull hum of the world outside barely penetrating the suffocating silence within.

The walls felt too close, too claustrophobic, as if they were slowly closing in on me, trying to crush the air from my lungs.

But then came the familiar, hateful voice in the back of my mind.

'You can’t protect them.'

'You can’t protect anyone...'

A chill surged through me, a weight settling into my chest as I clutched the sides of my head. My nails dug into my scalp, scraping against the skin until I thought I might draw blood.

'Why...?' I thought.

'Why does this keep happening...?'

I couldn’t escape it, the memories crashing over me like waves, each one pulling me deeper under the surface.

I tried to shake it off, but the harder I tried... the worse it got.

'You hurt them...'

Fang’s face flashed before my eyes—

Broken... betrayed, their voice sharp like daggers as they hurled those words at me.

The pain in their eyes had mirrored the pain inside me, and I could still feel the sting of their anger seeping into my bones.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt you...!”

I had tried to explain, but no words mattered anymore.

'You broke their trust.'

My hands trembled as I clutched the pillow on my bed, squeezing it so hard my knuckles turned white.

The fabric did nothing to stop the overwhelming flood of emotions ripping me apart.

'It’s all your fault... Always your fault.'

The worst part wasn’t that Fang had shouted at me.

The worst part wasn’t even that I had betrayed them.

No... the worst part was that they were right.

Every word they said had been the 'truth' I’d been avoiding.

I was weak.

I was worthless.

I deserved this.

I deserved every ounce of hatred Fang threw my way, because that’s what I had earned.

I had failed them... failed them all.

I wasn’t a protector.

I wasn’t a hero.

I was nothing.

My phone buzzed on the table next to me, but I didn’t look at it. I couldn’t. The sight of the screen lighting up only reminded me of the texts I had been ignoring all day.

From Reed.

From Stella.

From Moe.

Hell, even Trish, despite everything, had sent me a message asking if I was okay.

'You don’t deserve friends... You don’t deserve anyone.'

I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms until I felt the sting of broken skin.

I was alone. Just like I had always been.

And I deserved it.

---

I sat in the dark, staring at the walls of my apartment, the weight of everything I had done crashing down around me. I could hear the buzzing of my phone from the other room, but I didn’t move to pick it up.

I couldn’t bring myself to face anyone, not after what I had done.

Reed had sent me texts, asking how I was holding up.

Moe had left me a voicemail, his voice filled with concern.

Even Stella had reached out, wanting to make sure I was okay.

But I wasn’t.

And I didn’t *want* to be.

*How could I be okay after what happened? After I ruined everything?*

I thought about the way Fang had looked at me, the hurt in their eyes as they shouted at me.

The words they’d spoken were like a dagger, twisting deeper into my chest with every syllable.

“I trusted you, Anon! I confided in you!”

Their voice echoed in my mind, over and over, until I thought I might *lose my mind*. I couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard I tried.

'I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...' I whispered to the empty room, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own self-loathing. 

But there was no one here to hear me.

And even if there was, they wouldn’t care.

Why would they?

I had failed Fang.

I was nothing but a disappointment.

I buried my face in my hands, trying to block out the world... but it was no use.

The guilt was suffocating, wrapping around me like a noose.

Tightening with every breath I took...

My phone buzzed again, and I glanced at it, the screen lighting up with another message.

But I couldn’t bring myself to read it.

What was the point?

What could they possibly say that would make any of this better?

Nothing.

Nothing could fix this...

I had screwed up.

And there was no going back.

I was alone.

And maybe that’s how it was supposed to be.

---

It's been... days...?

The days blur into the nights, the sun rising and falling like some 'cruel cosmic joke'.

In my head, I hear the voices telling me I should just let go.

That everyone would be better off without me...

The weight of the air is suffocating, thick and heavy with the smell of sweat and unwashed clothes.

The trash can is overflowing with discarded fast food wrappers, empty soda bottles, and... I don’t even remember eating any of it.

The windows have been shut since the night I came back here.

Trapping the stale, sour air inside.

Trapping... me inside.

My apartment, if you could even call it that... has become my prison.

The only light comes from the dull glow of my phone, where messages from everyone—

Reed, Trish, Stella, even Moe—sit *unopened*, begging for an answer that I can’t give.

I used to care about those people.

I used to be someone they cared about.

But that’s over now.

The dark thoughts have been with me since I got back, whispering louder and louder each day.

Until they’re screaming in my ears.

At first, I tried to block them out. I tried to sleep them away, drown them out with the hum of my ceiling fan.

But nothing works anymore.

And now, these thoughts are all I have.

'You can’t fix anything.'

'You can’t protect anyone.'

'You’re a failure.'

I lie in bed, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling.

They twist and snake like veins, running through the plaster, taunting me with their permanence.

They’ll be here long after I’m gone...

'Maybe it’s time...' the voice says again, relentless.

And this time...

I agree

I sit up, the movement *unfamiliar* after days of lying still.

My body protests, but I ignore it.

I know what I have to do.

But before I go... before I end this...

I want to play one more song.

Dragging myself over to my guitar, I pick it up, feeling the weight of it in my hands.

The strings feel cold beneath my fingers as I strum the first chord.

"No Surprises"

A heart that's full up like a landfill  

A job that slowly kills you  

Bruises that won't heal  

You look so tired, unhappy  

Bring down the government  

They don't, they don't speak for us  

I'll take a quiet life  

A handshake of carbon monoxide  

The sound that comes out is raw, mournful, filled with all the pain I’ve been carrying.

And no alarms and no surprises  

No alarms and no surprises  

No alarms and no surprises  

*Silent, silent*

The notes echo around the room, bouncing off the empty walls, filling the space with a sadness that feels too big for this small, dingy apartment.

This is my *final fit*  

My final bellyache with  

No alarms and no surprises  

No alarms and no surprises  

No alarms and no surprises, please  

With each chord, the song grows darker, more desperate, until I can barely hold back the tears.

But I keep playing.

*Such a pretty house  

And such a pretty garden*

No alarms and no surprises  

(Get me out of here)  

No alarms and no surprises  

(Get me out of here)  

No alarms and no surprises, please  

(Get me out of here)

I play until the last note fades into silence, hanging in the air like the final breath of a *dying man*.

And that’s when I know.

It’s time.

Setting the guitar down, I look around the room. The messages on my phone are still there, but I can’t bring myself to open them.

I don’t deserve to hear their voices...

I don’t deserve their concern...

Instead, I reach for a pen and paper, and I start writing...

The first letter is to Reed.

My hands shake as I write, the words blurring through my tears.

I want to tell him how much his friendship meant to me, how *sorry* I am for all the times I let him down.

But nothing feels like enough.

No words can fix this.

The second letter is to Trish.

I try to explain why I couldn’t keep going, why everything feels, so heavy.

But the more I write, the more I realize that Trish would never forgive me.

Not that I deserve forgiveness.

The third is to Moe.

He showed me more kindness than I ever expected. He gave me a chance, a place to belong, but I failed him too.

I thank him in the letter, though I know it won’t mean much after what I’m about to do.

And then, there’s the letter to Stella.

My hands tremble more as I start writing this one. 

Stella...the one who had always been there online, always made me laugh when I needed it, even when I didn’t know I needed it.

I think back to the nights we spent chatting on Snootcord, watching anime, and how, for a brief time, I thought...

I thought maybe there was something more between us.

But I never told her.

I couldn’t risk losing her friendship, and now...now I’m losing everything.

I try to write down what she meant to me, how much her support got me through some of the darkest moments in my life, but the words feel hollow.

No letter could ever capture what she meant to me. 

No letter could ever make this right. But still, I keep writing. 

I apologize to her for not being the friend she deserved.

And when I finish, I fold the letter carefully, just like the others.

And then, there’s the final letter.

Fang’s letter.

This one is the hardest. 

The words come out in bursts, disjointed and messy, but I keep going.

I tell them I’m sorry, that I never meant to hurt them.

That I never meant to betray their trust.

But the truth is... I’m the worst kind of friend.

And they deserve better.

Tears fall faster as I write, each drop soaking into the paper, staining the words with my regret.

I want to tell Fang how much they meant to me, but nothing I say will ever change what I did.

I broke them.

And now... I’m breaking too.

When the letter is finished, I fold it carefully, placing it on the table next to the others.

And then, I look around the room, searching for a way out.

The ceiling fan catches my eye.

It was such a minor detail when I first moved into this place.

Just another part of the apartment, something to cool the room down on hot nights.

But now...

Now it looks like salvation.

I walk over to my guitar, unplugging the cable from the amp.

The plastic coating is sturdy... sturdy enough, I think, to hold my weight.

I twist the cable into a noose, the motions mechanical, my hands numb as they work.

There’s no hesitation.

No second thoughts.

This is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The voices in my head grow louder, urging me on, drowning out any last shred of doubt.

'Everyone will be better off without you... Just do it.'

I climb onto my bedside table, tying the noose to the base of the ceiling fan.

My fingers are steady as I work, as if they know this is the only way out.

And as I finish, I stand there for a moment, looking at the noose.

Feeling a strange sense of peace wash over me.

This is it...

This is the end.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the final step.

But before I can move...

There’s a sound.

*BANG*.

*BANG*.

*BANG*.

Someone’s banging on my door, the noise jarring in the quiet of the apartment.

"ANON! OPEN UP, MAN! IT'S REED!"

His voice cuts through the fog in my mind, and for a split second, I hesitate.

Then I hear more voices.

They’re all outside, calling my name, telling me to let them in.

I freeze, the table still beneath me, the noose dangling in front of me...

The memories of the past few days swirl around me, crashing into the present like waves of guilt and regret.

They’re here.

They came for me...

---

My heart pounds in my chest, the noise at the door growing louder with every knock.

Each bang echoes through my apartment, threatening to tear down the fragile quiet I had wrapped around myself. 

I can’t breathe... I can’t do this. 

They can’t be here right now.

They can’t see me like this...

To see what I’m about to do.

It’s too late to explain, too late to turn back, and I just want them to leave.

'Please, just leave...'

I try to stay quiet, praying they’ll give up and go.

'Just... just leave me alone.'

'I need to be alone.'

My hands tremble as I grip the side of the chair, my body tense, every muscle coiled with panic. 

But then.

My foot slips.

For a moment, it’s just a jolt... an insignificant movement.

But then the table tips, the world shifts, and suddenly...

The noose tightens around my throat.

I gasp, my breath ripped from me.

My hands instinctively shoot up, clawing at the cord as it digs into my neck, crushing my windpipe.

My legs kick out, thrashing uselessly beneath me, searching for solid ground that’s no longer there.

'NO... NO...'

'I CAN'T BREATHE...!'

The edges of my vision blur, dark spots clouding my eyes as I flail helplessly. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

They can’t see me like this.

They can’t have *this* as their last memory of me.

The voices outside the door grow louder, frantic now.

But their words...

Are drowned out by the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears.

I thrash harder, my fingers desperately scrabbling at the noose, but it’s too tight.

It’s cutting deeper, the plastic biting into my skin, and every second pulls me further away from them.

From everything.

'It’s... over...'

'It’s... too... late.'

As the world starts to dim, as everything begins to fade into a dark, suffocating void, my mind clears for one final moment.

My thoughts slow, and in the quiet, I realize something.

'I’m sorry...'

I’m sorry to all of them.

Reed. Trish. Stella. Moe.

Fang...

I love them.

I just wanted to protect them.

I wanted to fix things.

But now... now they’ll never know.

And the room around me fades.

As I sink into the abyss.

---

It’s cold...

And quiet.

The kind of silence that hums in your ears, stretching out into an endless void.

For a moment, I think this is it...

This is death.

The abyss that follows everything, swallowing up my final breath, my thoughts, my pain.

There’s nothing but the dark...

I welcome it.

I think it’s over.

I think it’s done.

But then...

There are voices.

Faint.

Distant.

Barely even sounds, really.

Just echoes, like whispers carried by the wind, *stirring* the stillness around me.

But I’m dead...

I’m... I have to be dead, right?

Then why am I hearing them?

The abyss ripples, the darkness trembling with each fragmented voice, and they grow louder, sharper.

One word cuts through, jagged and desperate.

“TRISH!”—but it sounds warped, like it’s coming through water. 

Muffled... Distant.

Something tugs at me.

Pulls me... It feels like I’m falling again, but not down into the dark.

No, I’m being pulled... back.

I don’t want to go back...

But the voices grow louder, more insistent. 

Then something crashes through the haze.

My head feels heavy, like it's being dragged from deep underwater, and the next voice that cuts through is

clearer...

“-ET A KN-FE!”

I know that voice.

But... it can’t be.

...Can it?

No, this can’t be real.

This is just... what happens, right?

Right before you go.

Your brain firing off whatever’s left.

Some last-ditch effort to keep you grounded before the end.

But the voices don’t stop. They don’t fade like I expect them to.

Instead, they press closer, growing more frantic, more...

Real.

I feel something cold, something rough biting into my throat.

Something tight.

The same feeling I had before everything went black.

It’s still there...

"TRISH, HURRY!"

The noise startles me again, piercing through the fog. 

It’s so loud now, and I can’t ignore it.

I can’t escape it.

My body jerks. A reflex, like it’s trying to fight, trying to claw its way back, and then my chest...

It feels like it’s on fire.

Like my lungs are collapsing in on themselves.

The next breath I try to take... it’s real.

It's shallow and weak, but it’s air.

My throat is burning, raw and aching, but it’s there.

It’s real.

I hear something again. A desperate shout—frantic but familiar.

Reed.

I’m... still here...

More sounds crash in, the clattering of something metallic, footsteps thudding across the floor, and then—

Suddenly, the pressure around my neck vanishes, replaced by hands grabbing me, holding me up.

I collapse into the weight of it, into the hands.

My body jerks involuntarily, muscles spasming as the burning sensation intensifies.

My throat convulsing as a wet, choking sound breaks free from my lips.

I cough. It’s sharp, painful, every gasp scraping against my raw throat... but it's real.

The voices...they’re real.

I blink against the blurry edges of my vision, the world coming back in slow, hazy fragments, and then I see it.

Reed.

His face is twisted, tear-streaked, the usual sarcasm and wit completely drained from him.

His eyes, bloodshot and wide with a mixture of panic, rage, and something deeper... something mournful.

"ANON, MAN, BREATHE! COME ON!" he shouts, his voice hoarse, trembling as he holds me up.

Another fit of coughing overtakes me, and I clutch at my throat, the pain blinding, but I’m breathing again.

Somehow, through the tears, through the darkness that tried to swallow me whole, I’m breathing.

I feel Reed shaking me, his hands gripping my arms so tightly I can feel his desperation. 

Then I hear him... his voice cracking.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT...! WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS, MAN?!"

I want to answer him.

I want to tell him I’m sorry.

That I didn’t mean for them to see this.

But all that comes out is another broken cough, another rasping breath.

Reed’s eyes lock onto mine, his lips pulled tight in a grimace of pain, and for the first time...

I see something in him I’ve never seen before.

Terror.

He thought I was dead.

The realization hits me hard, almost as hard as the noose had, and the world snaps back into sharp focus.

I’m alive.

I’m still here.

And Reed... he saved me.

---

Trish crashes into the room, her footsteps heavy and frantic.

She’s holding a kitchen knife in her hand, and her eyes lock onto the sight of Reed, cradling me as I cough and gag, still clawing for air.

Her expression hardens, rage bubbling up beneath the surface.

"MOVE!" she snaps at Reed, but her voice trembles.

She rushes forward, knife in hand, and without hesitation, slashes through the remains of the noose.

The plastic cable falls away, and I collapse into Reed’s arms fully, wheezing as my lungs work to drag in each painful breath.

My vision blurs again, and for a moment, I feel like I might slip back into the void—back into that *abyss*.

But then I hear her voice, sharp and raw.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT, ANON! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Trish’s voice cracks, and I can hear the anger and pain, mixed in equal parts.

I try to answer, try to say something... anything.

But my throat burns like fire, and all I can manage is a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the sound of my own gasping breaths.

Trish stands there, fists clenched at her sides, her body trembling.

She looks like she’s ready to beat the shit outta' me, to beat me back to my senses.

And honestly... I wish she would.

It would be easier to deal with.

Easier than this...

The room is quiet now, save for my shallow, laboured breathing, and the air is thick with tension and grief.

Reed’s grip tightens around my shoulders, but he’s shaking too.

His usual laidback style, completely shattered.

I want to disappear.

I want to go back to the void.

But they’re here.

I’m still here...

"Anon..."

Reed’s voice is low now, almost broken...

His arms are still holding me up.

But I can feel him trembling against me.

I force myself to look up at him, my vision clearing enough to see the tears on his face.

...Tears I never thought I’d see.

He looks down at me, eyes full of something I can’t quite place.

Something beyond anger.

Beyond pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MAN!?" Reed asks, his voice quiet but strained.

"YOU WERE JUST... GONNA LEAVE US? LIKE THAT?!"

I want to respond, but the words won’t come.

My throat feels too raw, too full of emotion and the remnants of the noose that almost took me away.

I shake my head, trying to apologize, trying to explain... but all that escapes is a *choked sob*.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ALMOST DID?!"

Trish cuts in, her voice breaking now.

"YOU ALMOST FUCKING DIED, ANON! YOU ALMOST..."

She trails off, her fists shaking by her sides as she tries to hold back tears...

"WE THOUGHT WE LOST YOU..."

The weight of their words crashes down on me, and all at once, the reality of what I’d done hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

My breath hitches, and I start to shake, the gravity of everything overwhelming me...

I almost left them.

I almost... ended everything.

"I’m sorry..."

I rasp, my voice barely a whisper. It’s all I can manage, but it’s *not enough*. It’ll *never* be enough.

"I’m so... fucking sorry..."

Reed’s grip on me tightens, and he shakes his head, his tears falling freely now.

"MAN... JUST... JUST DON’T EVER DO THIS AGAIN. YOU HEAR ME? YOU’RE NOT ALONE. YOU DON’T... HAVE TO DO THIS ALONE..."

His words hit me harder than I expect, and for the first time in days.

I let myself feel it.

The weight of everything.

The pain.

The guilt...

The overwhelming sense of failure and hopelessness.

I let the tears fall, let them mix with the burn in my throat, the ache in my chest, and I collapse into their arms.

For now, they’re holding me up.

I’m still here...

Chapter Text

The air in the apartment felt like it was suffocating me, pressing in on all sides, a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe.

I couldn't look up.

Couldn't face Reed or Trish.

My eyes stayed glued to the ground, barely processing anything around me.

Reed had been talking, but I wasn’t really hearing him. His voice felt distant, like I was hearing him from the other side of a wall.

I didn’t want to be here.

“Anon, man, we’ve got to talk about this. What happened back there... you scared the shit out of us,” Reed said, his voice thick with concern.

But it was like he was talking to someone else, not me.

I was just...there, my body an empty shell sitting on the couch.

My mouth was dry, and I could feel the lump in my throat growing, but no words came.

I wanted to speak, but I didn’t know how to start.

Reed's voice faltered when I didn’t answer.

“Dude... come on, we’re here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

I could hear the desperation in his voice, but still, I couldn’t respond. My hands were balled into fists, knuckles white as they rested on my knees.

Suddenly, Trish’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp and angry.

“ANSWER US!” she yelled, and I felt her presence more than saw it, standing over me.

Before I could react, Trish grabbed me by the collar, yanking me up so fast my vision swam.

I found myself staring into her eyes, her face inches from mine, her breath coming in ragged bursts.

“What the fuck, Anon?!” she shouted, her voice breaking with a mix of rage and desperation.

“What the hell were you thinking?! You think we don’t matter to you? That I don’t matter to you? That Fang doesn’t matter?! Do we mean nothing to you at all?!”

Her hands were trembling, her grip tight on my collar as she shook me, her words pouring out faster and faster.

“Did you even care about us? Did you ever care about me? About Reed? About Fang?! What were you gonna do, huh?! Just leave us behind like none of us mattered?!”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t breathe.

All I could do was stare at the floor.

Shame wrapping around me like chains, dragging me deeper into the pit... I had already been drowning in.

Reed was by her side in an instant, trying to pull her back.

“Trish, stop! You’re not helping. Just calm down, okay?”

But Trish wasn’t calming down.

Her tears were flowing now, mixing with the anger in her voice as she let me go, stepping back but still glaring at me with fire in her eyes.

...“How could you do this to yourself, Anon? How could you do this to us?”

Before she could say more, the door flew open, and Stella came rushing in, her face red and streaked with tears. Her voice cracked as she yelled at Trish, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“What are you doing, Trish?!” Stella shouted, stepping between me and Trish.

“How is yelling at him going to help!? Can’t you see he’s suffering? Look at him!”

Her words made my heart sink even lower. I had barely even noticed Stella was with them earlier. I had been so wrapped up in my own spiral that I hadn’t realized.

She had been there.

She had been part of the group that saved me. And now, she was standing there, tears in her eyes, defending me... when all I had done was hurt them.

Trish blinked, her fury faltering for a moment.

She still looked angry, but Stella’s words had hit something in her.

“I’m not trying to make it worse,” Trish said, her voice quieter but still raw with emotion.

“But he’s gotta understand how much this hurts. He can’t just shut us out like this. We care about him... we all do.”

My heart felt like it was being torn apart.

Reed was standing there, trying to mediate, looking at me with pleading eyes.

Stella was crying...

Her voice filled with desperation.

Trish... Trish was breaking in front of me, her anger a shield for the hurt I had caused.

And I had done this to them. All of them.

I didn’t deserve their tears. I didn’t deserve their worry or their pain. I didn’t deserve any of it.

And yet, here they were, trying to pull me back from the edge when I had already let myself fall.

It was too much.

The shame, the guilt, the overwhelming sadness... it was all too much.

“I’m sorry...”

I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips, though I wasn’t sure if anyone heard them.

I wasn’t even sure if I wanted them to.I sat there, the weight of everything suffocating me, as if it were crushing my chest.

My breath was shallow, ragged, and I could barely force myself to look up.

I muttered, my voice weak, barely audible.

“I'm sorry...”

Reed and Trish went quiet. Their earlier emotions... anger, frustration, confusion... seemed to have melted away.

Replaced by this suffocating silence.

Stella, though, moved closer and sat beside me, her arm gently rubbing my back, a comforting presence.

It was the first warmth I'd felt in days.

But that warmth only made the knot in my stomach tighten.

“I’m so... sorry.”

I repeated, trying to hold it together, but my voice was trembling, barely holding back the flood that was threatening to break through.

“For everything. For... for what all of you saw...! For all of this. You shouldn't have had to see me like that...”

Still, no one said anything, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it gave me space to speak.

“I... I don't know how to explain it...

The pain...

The... self-hatred...

I can’t even look at myself.

I can’t even stand being in my own skin anymore!”

My voice was weak, cracking.

“I did something awful... I don’t deserve any of you. I don’t deserve your friendship. None of this.”

I wasn’t sure if they understood what I meant.

The words felt disjointed, as if they were falling apart on the way out of my mouth.

But I meant every single one of them...

I was disgusted with myself for what I had done...

For being a coward...

For hurting...them.

Reed and Trish exchanged a glance, their faces shifting from confusion to something more serious.

They were trying to figure out what I meant.

Reed leaned forward, his voice careful but probing.

“Huh...? what do you mean dude? What did you do?”

I stayed silent for a moment, choking on my own guilt.

Stella's hand on my back didn’t stop moving, a reminder that, at least right now, I wasn’t completely alone.

Trish, too, seemed to be piecing it together, and her face changed, hardening with understanding.

“Does... this have to do with Fang?” she asked, her voice quiet but sharp.

Hearing Fang’s name, a fresh wave of shame crashed over me.

My throat closed up, and I felt my eyes sting with tears. I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

The memory of Fang’s face, of that raw, betrayed look in their eyes... hit me like a freight train.

I broke down, the tears falling freely now.

I could barely manage a nod, my body trembling with the force of my emotions.

“I didn’t... I didn’t mean for any of this to happen...”

I choked out between sobs.

“Fang... I betrayed their trust...”

Reed and Trish exchanged another look, but now there was something like realization in their eyes.

“...What happened, Anon? What did you do...?”

I wanted to run, to hide, to curl up into myself and disappear, but I couldn’t.

I owed them an explanation, even if it tore me apart.

“When I got off work the other night, Fang texted me... they wanted to talk...

We met up at the park, and... and they were upset. Really upset..."

My voice shook as I forced the words out.

“They told me that Naser came into their room... trying to apologize... And Fang knew that I'd talked to Naser...they said I'd betrayed them..."

I could see the questions forming on their faces, but I pushed forward.

“I thought... I thought if I talked to Naser, maybe it would help them talk things out... Fang figured it out and... and they were so hurt... and so angry...”

I clenched my fists, remembering the way Fang looked at me that night—the tears, the betrayal in their eyes.

I could barely breathe.

“I... I hurt them. And they don’t want anything to do with me anymore.

They said they didn’t need me.

They just wanted me to be there for them, but I... I fucked up...

I tried to fix things, and all I did was ruin it...”

Reed’s face went pale as I spoke, and he let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“So that’s why they haven’t been at school... why they haven’t answered any of our messages.”

Trish looked just as shaken, but her voice was steadier when she asked.

“But... why did Fang get so upset? I mean, I kind of get why they were mad you talked to Naser, but...

Anon... it feels like you’re not telling us everything.”

I shook my head, my heart pounding.

“I can’t. It’s not my story to tell. Fang already hates me because of what I told Naser... I won’t disrespect them like that again. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice."

The room fell into another heavy silence, the weight of my words pressing down on all of us.

The truth hung in the air, raw and unspoken. I didn’t know what else to say, what else to do...

All I knew was that I had broken something that couldn’t be fixed.

Stella’s hand never left my back.

The room was filled with an oppressive silence.

Trish and Reed sat with me, the weight of everything I'd just said, pressing down on all of us.

For twenty long minutes, not a single word was spoken.

The air between us was thick with tension, pain, and confusion.

I could hear my own heartbeat, and I kept my gaze fixed on the floor.

I couldn’t look them in the eye, not after this...

Suddenly, Trish stood up.

Her movements deliberate, as if she’d made a decision.

Reed snapped out of the silence, glancing up at her.

“Where you goin' Trish?”

Reed asked, his voice barely concealing his frustration and concern.

Trish didn’t turn to face him. Her eyes were hard, and her voice was cold.

“Fang still needs help... They still need someone to be there for them.”

Reed's face twisted in confusion, frustration growing in his voice.

“Dude, their folks already told us like a thousand times that they didn't wanna see us!”

That was when I felt something stir inside me.

An unbearable realization sank in... a wave of guilt so strong that it nearly floored me.

I was one of the reasons Fang was shutting everyone out.

I was part of the reason they were spiraling deeper into isolation...

I stood up so abruptly that all three of them jumped.

“I’m coming with you,” I said, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice.

Trish turned, her eyes narrowing.

“Hell. No. Not right now.”

I blinked. “What?”

Trish sighed, running a hand through her hair, as her frustration began to boil over.

“Look at you, Anon. You’re a mess. You think seein' you like this is gonna help Fang? They'll freak the fuck out.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Trish cut me off.

“I’m serious Anon. If Fang sees you now, it’ll only make them feel, a thousand times fucking worse.”

Reed nodded in agreement, his face clouded with worry.

“Trish is right man... You're in no shape to be around Fang right now dude...”

I slumped back slightly, but Trish wasn’t done.

“Speaking of Fang... we need to agree on something. Right here... right now.”

Her gaze cut across all of us, Reed, Stella, and me.

“None of us tells Fang what happened today. Not a word.”

I blinked, confused, but before I could speak, Trish continued.

“Because...”

Trish interrupted, her voice tight,

“If Fang finds out about... this, they'll blame themselves. And they'll spiral even worse than they already are...”

The truth of her words hit me like a truck.

I hadn’t even thought of that...

If Fang knew... if they found out what I’d nearly done today...

I couldn’t bear to think about how that would destroy them.

Trish was right... I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Fine.”

I said quietly. “You’re right.”

Trish looked at me hard for a moment, gauging whether I meant it, then nodded.

“Good... You stay out of this for now. Sort yourself out.

And get your head right... okay Anon?”

I clenched my fists, hating how helpless I felt.

“I will... but I still need to talk to Fang. I owe them that. I need to make things right.”

Trish let out a bitter laugh, her gaze softening slightly, but her tone was still sharp.

“Just... not yet, Anon. When you're ready... okay?”

I nodded.

“Yeah… when I’m ready.”

Turning to Reed, I added.

“You should go with Trish to see Fang dude... they need both of you.”

Reed and Trish exchanged worried looks, glancing between each other and then back at me.

It was obvious what they were thinking...

Whether I’d be okay, whether I’d do something stupid the second they left.

I could see the fear in their eyes...

I forced myself to look up at them, trying to ease their concerns.

“I’m not alone. Stella’s with me.... I’ll be... fine.”

Trish and Reed hesitated, but Stella nodded, her hand still gently rubbing my back.

“I’ll stay with him,” she said softly, her voice soothing.

Reluctantly, Trish and Reed began to gather themselves to leave, but they still looked worried.

I couldn’t blame them.

I wasn’t sure I trusted myself either.

But for now, I had Stella.

And I had to find a way to put the pieces of myself back together...

Before it was too late.

The apartment was quiet again, an awkward, suffocating kind of quiet that seemed to press down on both of us.

Stella and I sat there, neither of us sure what to say or how to fill the void that had settled over the room.

I could barely bring myself to look at her, and I could tell she didn’t know how to look at me, either.

In that moment, I realized just how little time I’d actually spent with her since coming to Volcaldera Bluffs.

Stella had been my best friend for over a year—my only real friend, if I was being honest.

She helped me through some of the worst moments of my life when I was stuck in Rock Bottom, even though she never knew what I was really going through.

She was always there, always cheering me up, always making me laugh.

We'd spend hours together... every day on Dinocord, talking, playing games, watching anime...

And now...?

I’d been here for two weeks, and barely spent any time with her...

Barely acknowledged her.

I’d been an awful friend.

I was supposed to be better than this...

My thoughts were interrupted by Stella’s voice.

It was shaky, almost uncertain, like she was trying to find the right words but wasn’t sure if they would help.

“So, uh... I’ve been watching this new anime,” she said, her tone almost too casual, trying too hard to act like everything was fine.

She shifted awkwardly in her seat, her eyes darting between the floor and the walls.

“It’s called Beast Battlers!, you know? It’s got that kind of old-school shounen vibe, you’d probably like it!”

I could tell she was trying to distract me, trying to take my mind off everything that had happened, and I appreciated it.

But I could also see that she was rattled...

She was putting on a brave face for me, but it was clear she was struggling... just like I was.

Her words kept coming, the nervousness in her voice making it all feel rushed and jumbled.

I could see her forcing herself to be upbeat, to be strong for me, but every time she spoke, I could feel the cracks in her composure.

'I can't let her keep doing this...'

“Stella...” I said softly, cutting through her babbling.

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at me.

Without thinking, I leaned over and pulled her into a hug.

It was sudden and awkward, but I didn’t care.

I needed to do it.

For her...

For me.

For a moment, Stella was completely still, her body rigid with shock.

Her arms hung at her sides like she didn’t know what to do.

Then, slowly, she wrapped her arms around me, and I could feel her trembling.

And then...

The dam broke.

A sob tore through her, followed by another, and another.

She clung to me like I was her lifeline, her whole body shaking as she wailed.

The sound of her crying...

Of how broken she sounded...

Cut through me like a knife.

“Why... Anon...? Why did you do it...?” she choked out between sobs.

“Why didn’t you talk to me..? Why didn’t you tell me what was going on!?”

Her words hit me like a sledgehammer.

I could feel her pain, her fear.

She was my best friend, and I’d nearly left her behind...

I’d nearly taken myself away from her without even considering what that would do to her...

She continued to cry into my shoulder, her grip on me tightening as if she was afraid I might slip away at any moment.

Stella’s sobs subsided slightly as I held her, but she was still trembling in my arms.

I could feel the tension in her body, the way her breathing was shaky and uneven...

I didn’t know what to say to her, and the guilt was suffocating.

I had put her through this... hurt her by doing something so selfish.

She pulled away, her face wet with tears, and I could see the frustration in her eyes now.

There was something more than just sadness behind her gaze...

Something deeper.

“You already know why, Stella...” I said quietly, my throat dry.

“You were there... when I told Reed and Trish... You heard everything...”

Stella wiped her face, shaking her head as if she couldn’t understand.

“I get that... I heard what you said about Fang... but why?”

Her voice trembled, but this time, there was an edge of rising anger.

“Why does it matter so much, Anon...?”

“WHY DOES HURTING FANG... AFFECT YOU LIKE THIS...!?”

I didn’t respond at first. I didn’t know how.

How could I explain it?

Even to myself?

Stella’s frustration grew as the silence stretched on.

She gripped my arms tighter, her fingers digging into my skin as she shook me slightly, her desperation and hurt bleeding through.

“WHY ANON...!? WHY IS FANG SO IMPORTANT TO YOU..? ...WHY IS THIS TEARING YOU APART!?”

Her voice cracked, but she didn’t stop, didn’t let up. Her tears began falling again, but now they were mixed with something raw... something I didn’t quite understand yet.

“I... I don’t know,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t mean to hurt them... I thought... I thought I was helping...? I thought I could make things better!”

“But why...? Why is it different... with Fang..?”

Stella pressed harder, her voice getting more desperate.

“Why is it killing you that they’re mad at you..? Why does it matter so much!?”

Her questions hit me like blows, and I could feel my stomach twist.

How could I explain something I didn’t even understand? Fang wasn’t just another friend. It wasn’t just that they were hurt... it was something deeper.

But how could I say that to Stella?

“I care about them... Stella,”

I finally admitted, the weight of the words falling heavily from my lips.

“More than I even knew... I didn’t even realize how much... until I saw how much I hurt them... it broke me...”

Stella’s face changed as I spoke, her expression shifting from frustration to something that almost looked like heartbreak...?

Her lips trembled, and her tears flowed freely again. But this time, it wasn’t just because of what I had done to myself...

It was something else entirely.

“Y-you love them...”

She repeated, her voice breaking as she spoke.

“I... I see it now...”

Her words were a knife, cutting through the air between us.

I looked at her, my heart sinking as I began to understand.

Stella wasn’t just sad because I had hurt myself...

She was sad because of me.

Because of what I felt for Fang.

And because...

'Oh god...'

Her body trembled more violently now, and I saw her struggle to keep her composure.

But it was too late...

Her walls were crumbling, and she couldn’t stop it anymore.

“I’ve... I’ve always been there for you,” Stella whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Ever since we met... I-I’ve been there... I’ve cared about y-you... Y-you never noticed... did you..?”

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, and my heart dropped.

How had I not seen it?

How had I not known?

All those nights we spent talking on Dinocord, all those times she was there for me...

She had cared about me in a way I never realized...

And I had been too blind to see it.

“Stella, I—!”

I started, but she cut me off, her voice breaking as she spoke.

“I l-love you... Anon.”

“I’ve always l-loved you... A-and now...”

Her voice hitched, and she wiped her eyes harshly.

“N-now I’ve lost my chance... Haven’t I..?”

I couldn’t breathe.

I wanted to say something, to make it better, but nothing came out.

Nothing could fix this.

She had been there for me for so long, and I had never seen it...

And now... I had fallen for someone else...

For Fang...

Tears fell from her eyes in heavy streams, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

“I was too late... wasn’t I..?” she whispered, her voice cracking as she looked at me.

“I... I didn’t even get a chance...”

I reached out to her, but she pulled back, her hands covering her face as she cried harder.

The room was filled with the sound of her heartache...

All I could do was watch as the truth settled between us like a wall...

Stella had loved me...

And I had let her down.

Just like I had let Fang down.

Just like I had let everyone down...

And now... I had lost them both.

I reached out, trying to find the words, anything to fix the heartbreak I had just caused.

“Stella, I... I’m so sorry,” I stammered, my voice thick with guilt and shame.

But she stopped me, placing a trembling hand on my chest.

Her lips curled into a sad smile, though the tears still streamed down her face.

“Don’t, Anon...”

“...Don’t ever apologize for being in love,” she whispered, her voice barely holding itself together.

“You... you didn’t do anything wrong. You can't help how you feel.”

She laughed softly through her tears, wiping her face with her sleeve.

“I had every opportunity to say something... Even when you weren't here... even when you were back in Rock Bottom...”

Her words hung in the air, and for a brief moment, my mind wandered to a different time.

What if I had told Stella back then?

What if I’d had the courage to say something when those feelings first stirred?

...What would life look like now...?

But I quickly snapped out of it.

This wasn’t the time to dwell on what-ifs, not when the reality of the moment was far more important.

I took a deep breath and looked into Stella’s tear-streaked face, her eyes still filled with sadness but now softening.

“Stella... you were my first friend. You saved me from the darkness... time and time again."

“You were there when no one else was, even when I didn’t deserve it."

“If it weren’t for you... what happened today... it would’ve happened long before I even made it to Volcaldera...”

Stella's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as I continued.

“You gave me the strength to keep going when I had nothing left."

“You were my light in the dark... the one who gave me the courage to keep fighting through all the pain."

I had to pause, as my eyes were starting to sting from the amount of tears I'd shed, before calming myself and continuing.

“...I’ll always be grateful for that.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time there was something else behind them.

Something warmer.

“You’ve saved me more times than you know, Stella,” I said, my voice shaking with emotion.

“And no matter what... you’re always going to have a special place in my heart... as the one who saved me.”

Her lips trembled into another smile, but this one felt more real, more genuine.

The hurt was still there, but I could see that she was slowly beginning to accept it.

“You’ll always be my best friend...” I whispered, pulling her into my arms.

Stella stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the hug.

But then, slowly, she wrapped her arms around me, her body melting into the embrace.

Her tears fell again, but this time, they were quieter, gentler.

She leaned into me, and though her heart might have been broken, her smile was finally one of acceptance.

As we sat in the quiet of my apartment, the tension between us started to fade.

The weight of everything we’d just gone through was still there, lingering in the corners, but now, there was something else... something softer, more familiar.

Stella wiped away the last of her tears, her expression shifting to something more at ease.

She shifted slightly, getting more comfortable as she began to talk, her voice lighter than before.

“Thank you, Anon...”

And we sat there together, reunited as friends...

Properly this time.

After some time, Stella unlatches herself from the hug and straightens out her clothes, before turning to face me once more.

“You know,” she said, her gaze distant for a moment,

“I’ve been getting really into astrology and divination lately. The whole mystical world—tarot, astrology, even a bit of numerology. It’s been kind of a... spiritual journey, I guess!”

I raised an eyebrow at that, surprised by the sudden shift in topic but grateful for it.

“Astrology, huh?”

“Yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically.

“There’s just something calming about it, you know? Like, the stars might have some kind of plan for us... even when life feels like it’s falling apart!”

I smiled, watching her talk with such passion.

It was the first time in what felt like ages that I’d seen her so animated.

It made me realize how much of Stella’s life I’d missed out on since before I came to Volcaldera Bluffs.

So much had changed for both of us, but we hadn’t really talked about any of it until now.

“I’m also in the gardening club,” she added, her tone growing a little softer, almost shy.

Gardening club?

My stomach lurched.

Spears.

I gulped, suddenly remembering the mandated gardening club sessions I’d completely forgotten about.

Oh, shit...

“What’s wrong, Anon?” Stella asked, noticing my reaction.

“Uh... nothing,” I lied, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Just... remembered something I’m probably going to get in trouble for.”

She tilted her head, a knowing smile creeping onto her face.

“You mean forgetting about gardening club, don't you?”

I let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah... Spears is definitely gonna hunt me down for an explanation come Monday.”

Stella giggled, and for a moment, everything felt lighter between us again.

Like old times.

“Oh, you’re definitely on his list!” she teased.

“Your name was on the detention sign-in sheet, you know.”

“What?” I blinked, my stomach dropping further.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“I was kind of excited, actually. I thought you’d be there, so I was really looking forward to gardening club!”

I chuckled despite myself, feeling both guilty and touched.

“Sorry I didn’t make it... Guess I’ve been... uh, distracted.”

Her smile softened.

“I know... That’s when I started worrying something was wrong. You weren’t replying to any of my messages, so I reached out to Reed. Asked him if he’d heard from you recently, and well... that’s how we all ended up here today...”

Hearing that, it all clicked into place.

The reason why they were all here, why they’d come to save me...

It was because of Stella.

She had brought them together because she’d been worried about me...

I looked at her, truly taking in everything she’d done, everything she was to me.

The gravity of her friendship, the care she’d always given, weighed heavily on my chest, but in a good way this time.

“Thank you, Stella,” I said quietly, my voice sincere.

“For everything.”

She smiled again, that same soft, genuine smile, and for a moment, we sat there in a comfortable silence.

Two old friends reconnecting in a way that we hadn’t in a long, long time.

Stella had been talking about everything under the sun when her tone shifted, a bit of curiosity and something else glinting in her eyes.

“Anon,” she said, pausing for a moment,

“I know this might sound a little weird, but... would you like a tarot reading?”

I blinked, taken aback.

“A tarot reading?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her expression soft.

“I just thought... you know, it might be interesting. See where things are for you, where they’ve been... where they’re headed?”

I thought it over for a second. Tarot cards? It seemed kind of out of nowhere, but after everything that had happened recently, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Alright,” I said, shrugging. “Why not?”

Stella smiled and pulled a deck of cards out of her bag.

She laid them down on the coffee table between us, the faint scent of incense still clinging to the worn edges of the cards.

“This will be a three-card reading,” she explained.

“One for your past, one for your present, and one for your future.”

She shuffled the cards carefully, her fingers deftly working through the deck as I watched.

I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious, but at the same time, something about it was calming...

Maybe it was just the fact that Stella seemed to know what she was doing, or maybe it was the idea of gaining some insight into the tangled mess that was my life...?

“Let’s start with the past,” she said, flipping over the first card.

The Ten of Swords

Stella winced slightly as she looked at it, and I could tell right away that it wasn’t a great card.

The image on it was haunting: a figure lying face down with ten swords stabbed into their back.

It felt too familiar, too close to the reality I’d been living...

“This card...” Stella began, her voice soft, “is about betrayal, defeat, and the end of something painful. It’s... well, it represents a really dark period in someone’s life. You’ve been through a lot, Anon...”

I swallowed hard.

I didn’t need tarot cards to remind me of that, but seeing it laid out so plainly hit harder than I expected...

Everything from Rock Bottom, the stuff with Fang, my almost fatal decision...

'Yeah... I’d been through hell, alright.'

I nodded slowly, trying to keep my emotions in check as Stella continued.

“This card also shows that while things were really dark, it’s important to know that it marks the end of a painful cycle,” she added.

“It’s acknowledging what you’ve been through... but also the fact that it’s behind you now.”

I exhaled a shaky breath.

“Yeah, guess that fits.”

Stella gave me a sympathetic look and moved on to the second card.

“Alright, this one’s for the present.”

Two of Swords

“This card represents a crossroads,” she explained, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the card.

The image showed a woman blindfolded, holding two swords crossed over her chest, sitting at the edge of a shore.

“It means that right now, you’re facing a decision,” Stella continued.

“It’s a time where you have to choose between two paths, and the outcome depends on what choice you make.

One path could lead to ruin, and the other... well, it could lead to something better.

But the key here is that you need to make that decision. If you stay stuck where you are... things won’t get better.”

I stared at the card for a moment, her words sinking in.

A crossroads... it was like she was describing exactly how I felt.

Lost...

Torn between trying to make things right or just giving up entirely.

“And... what happens if I make the wrong choice?”

I asked, my voice quiet.

Stella glanced up at me, her expression serious.

“That’s the thing about this card... you have to trust yourself. It’s about listening to what you really want, deep down, and making the decision that’s right for you.”

I nodded, my mind spinning with the weight of it all.

She was right... It was up to me... But could I really make the right choice this time?

Stella hesitated for a moment before flipping the final card.

“And this...” she said softly,

“is your future.”

The Star

“This...!” Stella said, a hint of relief in her voice, “is a really good card, Anon! The Star represents hope, healing, and guidance. It’s a sign that even though things are hard right now, the future holds the possibility of renewal. It won’t be easy, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel, Anon. That things can get better!”

I stared at the card, its image of a figure pouring water into a stream under the light of a shining star.

It felt distant, like a promise that was too far out of reach.

But it was something, wasn’t it? A tiny spark of hope in the mess I’d made of my life.

“So... there’s hope?” I asked quietly, my voice almost a whisper.

Stella nodded, her eyes soft as she met mine.

“Yeah, Anon! There’s always hope!”

I looked at the three cards laid out before me: betrayal and pain, a difficult decision, and finally, a chance for healing.

It was hard to believe, but maybe... just maybe, things could turn around.

Stella reached across the table and gently touched my hand.

“You’re not alone in this, you know. We’re here for you.”

I swallowed, feeling a lump rise in my throat, but I nodded.

And now?

I know what I need to do.

Chapter Text

Three Days…

It’s been three agonizing days since I locked myself in this room, shutting out the world and burying myself in a tangled mess of emotions that won’t let go. Since that fight with Anon... everything feels like it’s been spiraling out of control.

I haven't left my bed, haven't eaten, haven’t done anything except stare at the walls and let the endless cycle of guilt, anger, and regret tear me apart. The only escape I find is the numbness that settles over me when I finally cry myself into oblivion.

I hear them outside the door. Naser’s been trying, knocking softly every day, like he’s worried any sudden noise will shatter me completely. I hate that he’s worried. I hate that I’m the reason he’s standing there in front of my door, calling my name softly, asking me to just talk. I hear the concern in his voice, but I can’t face him. Not after everything.

"Fang, come on... just talk to me, please..."

I don’t respond. What could I even say?

There’s no explaining this storm in my head, the way my thoughts spiral inwards, trapping me, keeping me from facing anything or anyone. It’s safer here, alone.

Mom tries, too. She’s more patient than Naser, quieter, but I can hear it in her voice when she knocks, that soft, motherly pleading. She doesn’t get mad, doesn’t push, just... waits. But waiting doesn’t make it easier.

And then there’s Dad.

He’s not like them. At first, he was pissed. Banging on the door, shouting at me to open up, threatening me with all sorts of punishments like I cared about any of that right now.

"Lucy! This isn’t a game! You’re grounded! No more phone, no more privileges until you open this damn door!"

It was laughable, really. Did he think taking away my phone was going to fix this?

When that didn’t work, he switched tactics, tried bribing me. His voice softened, but only a little.

"Lucy... c’mon. You don’t even have to come out, just say something. I won’t take your phone. Hell, I’ll even let you off the hook for skipping dinner. Just... talk to me, kid."

Still nothing. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face him, couldn’t face any of them.

But today... today was different. Desperation crept into his voice, and he threatened to take the door off its hinges if I didn’t come out.

That’s when I finally snapped.

I shot out of bed, stormed to the door, and screamed at him to leave me alone. My throat felt raw, and I could barely breathe as we shouted at each other, our voices crashing into each other through the door like some kind of battle neither of us could win.

"Lucy, open this door!"

"NO! Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Fine! I’ll take the damn door off if I have to!"

"Go ahead! I don’t care!"

I was shaking, my fists clenched tight enough to hurt, when Mom’s voice cut through it all.

"That’s enough!"

She didn’t need to shout. She didn’t need to say anything more. Dad muttered something, but I could hear him walking away. When Mom speaks like that, even he listens. He’s not the one in charge. She is.

Finally, it was quiet. But the silence outside didn’t do anything for the chaos inside.

I collapsed back into my bed, pulling the blankets over my head, hiding from everything. The yelling stopped, but the noise in my mind didn’t. It never does.

I grabbed my phone out of habit, scrolling through the messages from Reed and Trish, my fingers trembling. Their words blurred in front of my eyes, worry seeping through every single message.

"Fang, are you okay?"

"Where are you? Please talk to us."

But the one message I’m looking for... it’s not there.

Anon hasn’t texted me… Not once.

And that... that stings more than it should.

I mean, why should I care? After everything that happened, after he betrayed my trust... I should be glad he hasn’t reached out.

So why does it hurt? Why do I keep checking my phone, hoping to see his name pop up?

It’s stupid. I’m pissed at him. He told Naser something I trusted him with. He took that secret out of my hands like I couldn’t handle it. He didn’t even give me a chance to figure it out on my own.

But the truth is, I miss him. And that makes me even angrier. I trusted him, I let him in in a way I’ve never let anyone in before, and he fucked it all up. And now, he’s just... gone.

The voices in my head start to pick up again, louder this time, sharper.

You fucked it all up, Fang.

I wince, squeezing my eyes shut.

You pushed him away. That’s what you do. First Anon, next it’ll be Reed and Trish. You always push everyone away. Soon, you’ll be alone again. You ruin everything. You always have.

I can’t breathe. The voices are suffocating me, twisting every thought, every feeling, until I’m drowning in it.

And then... they take a darker turn.

Remember the cliffs? Remember Naser?

I freeze.

I don’t want to remember. I can’t.

But the voices don’t care what I want. They never do.

You lied to him. You told him he could fly. And because of you, he jumped. Because of you, his wing is crippled. He trusted you, and you destroyed him.

I feel sick. My body shakes as the memory slams into me like a wave, knocking the breath out of me.

I can still see it, Naser standing at the edge, excited, trusting me. And I... I told him it would be fine. I told him he could do it.

I was wrong.

If you hadn’t been there, Naser would be fine. He’d still his wing wouldn’t be crippled...

You’re the reason he’s broken.

…You’re the reason he’s not whole anymore.

Tears blur my vision. I grip the blankets tighter, trying to keep myself together, but it’s slipping through my fingers.

You ruin everything. Naser would be better without you. Everyone would be better without you.

I want it to stop. I want to turn off these voices, make them disappear, but they keep coming.

Anon’s better off without you. Reed and Trish... they’ll leave you too. And you’ll be alone…

You should be alone…

I can’t take it. I can’t breathe. The weight of it is crushing me, suffocating me.

My hands move on their own, reaching for my wings. I start preening, pulling at the feathers, trying to focus on something, anything other than the thoughts screaming in my head.

The pain is sharp, but it’s real. It’s something I can control.

I keep pulling, harder and harder, my fingers twisting and yanking at feathers that don’t need to be touched. Blood wells up from where I’ve pulled too hard, but I don’t stop.

Maybe if I keep going, the pain will drown out everything else.

Maybe if I bleed enough, it’ll finally be quiet.

Then there’s a sound… a faint thud hits my window, barely audible over the storm of thoughts crashing in my head.

For a split second, I pause, my fingers still tangled in the feathers on my wings, the blood slowly drying as the sting lingers. I tell myself it’s nothing—just some random noise outside.

But then it happens again. And again.

Pebbles? Really?

I know who it is. It has to be Reed and Trish. Who else would be out there, throwing rocks at my window like we’re in some cheesy movie?

I wish they’d give up already. I don’t want to see anyone. Not after everything that happened, not after what I did to Anon, not after all the thoughts ripping me apart from the inside.

But then, a louder crash tore through the air as the glass in my window shattered, sending tiny shards to the floor.

I jumped, startled, my heart racing as I stared wide-eyed at the broken pane. What the fuck!?

A decently-sized rock now lay on the floor beneath the window, the remnants of shattered glass sparkling like frost on the carpet. My annoyance flared, but something caught my eye.

Tied to the rock was a piece of paper.

Great.

I bent down and untied the note, crinkling the paper in my hand. It read:

"If you don’t talk to us, the rocks are just gonna get bigger!"

I rolled my eyes, a half-laugh escaping me despite everything. Of course, it was Trish. This was exactly her style—bold and direct, even when it came to breaking windows. I could practically hear Reed in the background, probably half-scolding her while going along with it.

Still, I couldn’t ignore them forever. They weren’t going to leave me alone until I faced them, and as much as I wanted to disappear, I knew they’d keep at it.

But there was no way they could see my wings like this—bloodied, messy, evidence of how far I’d slipped. If they saw, they’d panic. Or worse, they’d try to help, and I couldn’t deal with that right now. I didn’t want them to know how out of control I was.

I yanked the duvet off the bed, wrapping it around my shoulders like a cloak, hiding my wings underneath. It was a weak cover, but it would have to do.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped toward the broken window, pushing aside the remaining glass with a wince, and looked down.