Nina Weiss had been director of Site-87 for almost thirty years. Most directors barely lasted half that long, between Foundation politics, backstabbing (both figurative and literal), scandals, and just plain retirement. The latter hung over her like an anvil as she looked at her reflection in the monitor of her computer.
"Hold on, unplugged the screen by mistake." Weiss reached around the monitor, fingers straining for the plug. When it was re-inserted, the face of Tristan Bailey was on the screen; he was sitting in what appeared to be a hotel room. Weiss raised her eyebrow. "Dr Bailey, I thought that you were to be on your flight by now."
"Got bumped off, but I should be back by tomorrow." Tristan adjusted his laptop's camera and drummed his fingers on the table. "Heard stuff's been getting hairy up there. Are you doing all right, director?"
Weiss let out a derisive noise. "Dr. Bailey, just because I am old does not mean I am completely infirm."
He frowned. "You had a heart attack barely three years ago, ma'am. I'd take it easy. See about getting out of town for a bit, let Dr. Hennessy take over for a while."
Weiss shook her head. "Dr. Hennessy doesn't have proper clearance, and it would take her a while to get it. Besides, Dr. LaMarche is coming down to Sloth's Pit to inspect the Penzance Device, since you think it's interfering with the Transit Array."
Tristan shuddered. "Sorry, director, but even talking about that thing creeps me out. We have a reality-wiping bomb under the Site, and you're talking about it like we're getting a water heater looked at."
"We've never had to use it, probably never will." Weiss tapped her fingers against the table. "Things are getting a little hairy, here, I'll admit. First flight you can get. How's Portland?"
"Hendricks and Jept invited me out drinking after we got some business done here. Actually found a bar that wasn't full of hipsters, which was nice. As for official business…"
Tristan and Weiss talked for another twenty minutes before the call ended. Weiss rose from her seat, stabilizing herself on the table, and using her cane to get up as well. Maybe it was time to give retirement some proper thought.
Using her cane to steady herself, she headed to the door of her office, opened it—
And stepped into oblivion.

Weiss felt herself tumbling head over heels, sunlight quickly escaping her view. Her arm was wrapped around the neck of her attacker, struggling with him in freefall. A gun went off, and then flew out of her attacker's hand as she clawed at his wrist.
"Who are you?" she snarled. "Why did you do this?"
Any response was lost in the rush of wind, and the crunch of stone as the Bottomless Sloth's Pit proved to be anything but. Her attacker landed hard, breaking her own fall, and his spine. Weiss screamed, then cursed, then clawed herself away from the man's still-warm body. She couldn't feel anything below her left knee, and saw her leg jutting out at a bizarre angle, never to heal properly.
"Wait," Weiss squinted her eyes. "T-this already happened. I've been through this before." Her hand ran through a puddle of water, and there was just enough light that she could see her face reflected in it; forty years younger, no wrinkles, no frown lines, her grey braid replaced with a head of mousy brown hair, styled in a pageboy. "I—" She swallowed. "What the hell? What is this?"
She tried standing up, purely on instinct, and found herself collapsing to the ground, screaming. "Y-yeah, I remember now," she panted. "Leg is definitely broken. Fuck…"

Several Site-87 personnel stood to gawk at the bottomless pit that had opened in front of the director's office on Sublevel 2. It had already been cordoned off, with hooks being drilled into the walls to prepare for a descent into it.
"Think it's one of those manifestations you talked about?" Blake Williams looked at Tofflemire, visible concern on his face. "There's… nothing on the level below this, as far as we can see. Has to be one of those, right?"
Robert crouched by the side, and ran his hand along the edge of it, picking up the strange dirt. It was black, crumbly, and smelled of ink. "This is Pit dirt, all right. Has to be a manifestation." He frowned. "When did Weiss get thrown down it?"
"Summer of '81."
"Think she's still afraid of it, though? Like, it would be traumatic, but… almost forty years is a lot of time to recover from trauma, and she shot at least five Pit Sloth manifestations back in '18."
"And had a heart attack back in '17 that left her in a hospital in Duluth." Blake shook his head, and turned to the crew. "That climbing gear ready?"
"The hooks aren't going in!" a member of maintenance complained. "The walls are reinforced concrete, we're going to need a plasma drill."
"Well then freaking get one!" Blake snapped. "Any idea what happened down in the Pit?"
"The files on it are mundo classified. But considering the director at the time was found dead of starvation after drinking a cup of coffee that never got tested, and Weiss used to be a pharmacologist…"
"Ah." Blake looked into the Pit. "She's… probably fine, right? She's a badass."

"Mother fucker!"
The younger Nina Weiss grabbed at her leg; her attempts to splint it were met with pain in ever-increasing amounts. Just like she remembered it. It was a miracle she could even find anything to splint it with down here— she hadn't landed at the bottom of the Pit, but somewhere else.
The badge on her labcoat had been torn off in the struggle, and after failing to find anything on the body of the man that had thrown her down, she was crawling around among what she surmised was the ruins of a library. Books with ruined, stained pages lay scattered everywhere, shrapnel and splinters of wood and glass had to be brushed out of the way before she could crawl, and the whole place smelled of ink and dirt.
"O-okay," she panted, crawling up to a corner. "I-if it's still on me, like back then…" Weiss felt through her pockets. When she had originally been thrown into the Bottomless Pit and landed here, she had an anomalous drug— one of only two prototypes in existence at the time— on her person, called RHNOBTL (pronounced "rhino beetle"). If used, it would provide someone with massive strength and stamina for about an hour— and then a hunger crash so severe that it would kill someone via starvation within fifteen minutes as their body burned through every available calorie.
"Not looking forward to mixing bacon with a milkshake again," she admitted as she rifled through her pockets. "Wait, where— where— what the, where is it? Where is it?!"
She had a hole in her labcoat's pocket that wasn't there thirty-nine years ago. She turned pale, looked up at the sunless sky above, and screamed.

Tofflemire carefully scooted around the edge of the miniature bottomless pit to hook up the climbing gear. He had been given over three hundred meters of rope strong enough to lift an elephant, so it would hopefully be long and strong enough to get to Weiss. Hopefully.
"What part of 'bottomless' don't people understand?" Blake frowned. "I mean, hell, it took you and Carol half an hour to hit bottom on your first ride, that's… how long?"
"Thirteen kilometers. Like falling from the spire of the Empire State Building twenty-nine times over." He frowned. "I… did the math on that a lot after we got back. But by all accounts, Weiss wasn't more than maybe two hundred meters into the Pit before she got out."
"Right. So…" Blake swallowed. "Let's hope we can recover her."
"Falls into the Pit have never been fatal. That's the amazing thing about it." With that, Robert secured his gear, checked it twice, and walked over the bottomless pit.
To the other side.
Blake, and all assembled personnel, stared at Tofflemire. He stared at himself, walked to the middle of the Pit, and looked down. Nothing happened. "So much for Looney Tunes logic." He tried kicking at empty air, and it felt as solid as a steel floor. "What the fuck? No!" He walked off of the pit. "Weiss! Director! Nina!"

After about half an hour, her leg didn't hurt so much anymore. There was enough light to read by, somehow, and she had found herself engrossed in a folio by Shakespeare. She could turn the pages without her hands creaking, her wrists popping, without having to adjust herself constantly to be comfortable. No arthritis, no aching.
For as horrible as her situation was, she… forgot how much she liked to be young. How horrible aging was. Not necessarily growing up, just… growing older. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, dying down here with some books to keep her company, all alone.
She shook her head. "That's… childish, Nina." She sighed. "You've got people counting on you. A Site to run. You're not twenty anymore, and god willing, you never will be again. But…" She turned her wrist around, feeling its free range of movement. "Whatever did this to me… it's probably going to wear off if I climb back up. But… I don't have any of RHNOBTL on me, so I can't." She looked down at her hands and sighed. "How does that song go? 'Make the most of the night like we're gonna die young'." She pulled herself to another volume, frowning at the cover— it was Orlando by Virginia Woolf. "…Sloth's Manor fell into the ground in 1890. This wasn't published until…"
There was a clinking sound, and a glass vial rolled to her feet. She backed up, hissing as her leg flared in pain, and looked up in time to see a hairy arm vanish into the darkness. Then, she looked at the vial; it contained a black liquid that seemed to pulse with intermittent flashes of light. She couldn't read the label, but for the words "BTL" and "TOXIC."
She felt the sudden weight of a syringe in her pocket. She knew to be suspicious. Some mysterious entity had come from the shadows and just handed her an escape route. So, she called out to the dark. "Hello?"
From the darkness, an unmistakable, and very familiar, form emerged, albeit slightly off-color. Six foot even, with a pair of horns on its head, a face that was more humanoid than caprine at the moment, and covered head-to-toe in black fur, with an axe in one hand. "Director," the Goatman nodded. "Sorry for the… as you would put it, 'clandestine bullshit'. But I thought it best to make myself scarce."
"…do I want to know what you're doing down here? And— what year is it?"
"Two-thousand and twenty. Like every day in this accursed year." He crossed his arms. "You do something different with your hair?"
"Uh. Maybe." She looked at the vial again. "How are you here?"
"I could ask you the same thing. I walked out of Koch's Hovel this morning, and found myself in my f— that is, Jackson Sloth's old library. That thing was stuck to the bottom of my foot for most of the day until you fell down here with—" The Goatman turned, finding the man's corpse absent. "…huh." He looked her up and down. "You're in no fit state to walk, let alone climb out of here. That's what you were going to do with that, right? Overheard you muttering about it."
"Uh. Yeah." Weiss looked down at her leg. "RHNOBTL accelerates healing, but… I don't know. Um."
"I've climbed out of this a dozen times." The Goatman grinned, its teeth pointed and malicious. He closed his lips quickly. "…sorry. New movie based on Krampus is due this Christmas. Always does weird things to my teeth."
"It's fine!" Nina said, not unnerved in the slightest. "Well, let's… uh. How do you want to go about this?"
"Climb on my back, best as you can." The Goatman came over and helped Weiss to her feet. "Not a bad look for you, Director, I must say."
"Pity it'll probably wear off once we get to the surface." Weiss shook her head. "Well, can't be young forever."
"All too true."
With that the Goatman hoisted Nina Weiss onto his back, and started to climb.

Tristan Bailey found himself rushed to the administrative level within seconds of pulling up to Plastics Circle in front of Site-87. Harried agents, stressed-looking researchers, and one administrative assistant who looked like she was having a very bad day babbled things at him about Weiss being missing, possibly KIA, and how they needed a new director. They pushed up right to the edge of the bottomless pit— or at least, where the concrete divider had been placed.
"Will you people calm down," Tristan turned towards the crowd. "And talk one at a freaking time? What's happening here?"
Alison Carol stepped forward. "Director Weiss fell into the pit yesterday. As far as we can tell, she's been down there since. We can't get into it, and as far as we can tell, it's the exact same as the Bottomless Pit so—"
There were several startled gasps behind Carol as the crowd began retreating. A bleating voice called, "She's injured!" at the same time several agents called "Containment breach!" and Bailey bellowed, "Hold up!"
Several agents had aimed their guns at the black-furred form of the Goatman, who was carrying a woman in her thirties on his back, her leg at a bizarre angle. She was in pain, but conscious, and looked at Bailey with a pair of intense green eyes. "Dr. Bailey," she panted. "Don't— don't just stand there. Help an old woman down, would you?"
If Tristan's jaw could drop any further, it would have dislocated. If he'd been holding a coffee mug, it would shatter on the ground. If he'd had low blood pressure, he'd have fainted. He recognized the woman before him from family photos, and the occasional Thanksgiving dinner from when he and his brothers were much, much younger men.
"Director Weiss?" He swallowed. "You— look different. Very different."
Weiss rolled over her hand, looking at the back of it— it was largely free of wrinkles, blemishes, and other signs of age, and it still failed to crack or creak or pop. "So I do." She swallowed. "So I do."

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So I was told that apparently this is a creepy story or whatever, and I should share. It is creepy, I guess, but it's just a weird thing that happened. No cursed haunting or stalkers in the dark or anything. So don't come crying if it's unsatisfying or whatever.
First, a little backstory.
I am 30-ish, married, and live with my husband and two children. He does government work, mostly from home now. I was a stay at home mom until about three years ago, when my husband's work changed and suddenly I had more options besides looking after the kids. An opportunity had come up to work in a field I both loved and trained for, so I jumped at it. The only downside was it was a little over an hour away, but we considered it a fine trade-off. Getting out of the house was nice, and the extra income was very nice. Forgive me being vague, but I'd rather err on the side of caution instead of saying the wrong stuff and getting someone fired. Sorry.
Now, the important part for this is my drive. We live in a big old farmhouse on the edge of a small-ish town. The area around us is pretty woody, so seeing stuff on my drive or around the house is normal. Foxes, deer, raccoon, even bear and once a huge heron, it's typical. Now, to get to work, I need to drive somewhat through town, typically getting gas and buying lunch because I fucking forgot it at home again and I'm late. Once through town, I need to drive a fair bit to reach another, smaller town, really just a wide spot in the road. There used to be a sawmill there ages ago, but now the primary export is payday loans and meth. About 10-15 minutes past that is my work site, which is it's own detached facility.
Now, between these two towns there's three primary ways I can take. There's the main highway, which is a straight shot but typically busy as hell. Lots of lakes and industry in the area, just spread out, so the main arteries are about as congested as someone with hay fever. Get lucky sometimes though, but typically a gamble. The second pick is a set of back roads that worm along the edge of town and the woods, and spit me out near methmill town. Not nearly as busy, but nowhere near as direct, but it's pretty easy, and the area can be real pretty at certain times of the year. The third option is Catscratch.
I have no idea why this stupid road is called Catscratch, but it's about as thin as one. It shoots right from our town, then about half-way it winds into the woods, skips along the edge of methmill town, and splits off right before the edge of my worksite. It is sometimes two, often one-lane, narrow, and inconsistently paved. However, if you know it, and know what you're doing, you can shave some serious time off the drive. It's also creepy as shit. The first part isn't so bad, but the woods around the second half are wild and dense, in the summer the trees and leaves make a dark tunnel, and in winter the light-dark contrast of snow and black trees can make it look like things are moving. Still, to someone trying to squeeze down twenty minutes, it's tolerable.
I was coming home from work. It was late fall, and while it wasn't full dark yet, the light was going fast. I was going down Catscratch mainly because I was wiped out and just wanted to take my time and sing like a crazy person. It was near the edge of the woody section, going on to that long, narrow straightaway, when I suddenly saw this bit of bright orange on the side of the road. Construction isn't uncommon, so I just mentally blipped over it, dismissing it as a traffic barrel or cone that was left behind or something. I was belting out Zombie by The Cranberries when I realized the orange thing was moving.
It was a bright orange coat, being worn by a gangly black guy in dirty jeans. I instantly shut up and felt crazy embarrassed, sort of hunching down and looking sideways as I drove by. All the windows were up, but it's just one of those things, I guess. I though maybe he was a road worker, or maybe a hunter, it was that kind of blaze, semi-reflective orange color. Then I realized it was puffy, like one of those big, poofy almost-parkas people wear. The hood was up, and the guy was walking the same direction I was driving, so I couldn't see his face. He was pretty tall, and seemed kind of dirty as well. I drove by, and he didn't respond, just kept walking, arms swaying at his sides. I just blew it off, swore a little, and went back to singing.
The area, as I said, has a meth problem, so it's not unheard of to see strung-out tweakers wandering about now and then. It was kinda late, and cold, but again, meth, baby. It kind of seemed like he was doing that hazy sleepwalk thing, so I just chalked it up to that. It was weird, though. I kept dwelling on it on the ride home, and I realized I hadn't seen his face, which seemed to bug me. Told my husband about it when I got home, and he did his best to roll with it. He likes spooky and weird stuff, but tries to play the skeptic. He told me to keep away from there for a couple days, just to be safe. For all we knew, he could have friends waiting for an ambush, who knows. I agreed, and we went to bed.

So my husband sleeps like a dead man, and I sometimes don't hear my alarm. So Catscratch again.
I was flying, not really speeding, I swear officer, but maybe faster than I should be going. I was barely paying attention, honestly, and likely would have missed it even if the orange vest guy jumped on my hood. The only reason I noticed the truck was because it was nearly blocking the whole road.
It was a beat-to-hell rust bucket you see around lonely towns in the middle of nowhere. It might have been…green? Maybe? It was sitting, taking up two-thirds of the one-ish lane section. I could see a guy leaning out and waving his arms, and I thought he was trying to signal to me. Then I saw a couple guys out in the bare trees, gesturing back and I'd assume yelling. I'd had the music up and couldn't make anything out. When I saw both had rifles, I got a little nervous, but again, this exact scene isn't that weird. Probably hunters, poachers, or what have you. The guy in the truck noticed me, and slowly puttered out of my way, and I whipped by with a minimum of swearing. It wasn't until I was at work when I realized they were in the same-ish area I'd seen orange puffy-coat guy.
I sort of forgot about it, and didn't take Catscratch for another two days. I'd driven in on the main highway, but just a bit after I got in a bad storm blew in. It snarled and boomed for most of the day, finally tapering off late in the evening. I ended up getting held over, and when my relief finally came, he told me to keep off the highway, as there'd been an accident and everything was backed up for miles. I groaned, and was debating on how to go home as I worked my way out to the car. The sky was still boiled up with clouds, and the weather said it was going to start storming again soon. For whatever reason, I pulled out and headed down Catscratch. I think I was just settling on the fastest way home, shit conditions or not. I'd totally forgotten about puffy-coat guy as I worked my way through the trees and turns.
I know there are explanations for what I saw, I just don't know what they are. All I know is what I saw, or at least what I think I saw. Strung-out people can do amazingly weird stuff, or I could have nodded off for a second, or it was just someone fucking around. It just…honestly it scared the hell out of me, like, more than it seems like the situation would warrant, if that makes sense?

Anyway.
It was full-dark, the road was wet and the wind was just enough to kick up leaves now and then. I actually wasn't speeding for once, and was too worn out to sing, so when I saw that puffy orange coat again, I actually looked as I drove up to the guy. It was just the same as before, old dirty pants, bright orange coat with the hood up, hands swaying absently at his sides. He was walking along the gravel on the edge of the road, and didn't seemed to be weaving or stumbling really. Just had an odd, stiff posture, like maybe his back hurt or something. He was tall, like six-five-ish, give or take? His hands were long and dirty, with that kind of ashy patina that homeless folks seem to get. I sort of moved over to the far side of the road to give him some room, and I watched, waiting to see what he looked like. I don't think I was expecting something, just the same impulse that makes you slow down at accidents I guess. His head sort of turned a little as I started to pass alongside, walking the same direction I was driving.
There was something horribly wrong with his face.
I don't know if it was drugs, or injury, or what the fuck, but he had this huge smile, and I mean HUGE. It looked like it went up to his cheekbones, winkles pushed up by his ears, and these huge, flat, white teeth crammed in. Not a one was straight, but they weren't decayed or broken, just like someone crammed his mouth with a couple fistfuls of blank white dominoes. His nose was small, and nearly lost above his big, pale, stretched lips. He looked like he could eat a cantolope whole, his smile was that fucking huge. His skin was dark, but gray and ashy, like he was dirty or sick, maybe. I couldn't see his hair because of his hood.
His eyes were black. I mean solid black, so black I'm not even sure he actually had any. Just dull, empty, hollow blackness above that huge, jagged smile.
I sort of yelped, and punched the gas. I watched in the rear-view, and he was watching me, his head slowly turning as I passed…then suddenly it leaned back, from the base of his neck, and pressed into his coat.
If you've ever blown up something human shaped (ha ha) there's a thing that happens sometimes when you deflate them. The whole thing sags, and then the head sort of flops backward and down, still inflated. The body sort of collapses, and the head kind of plops in to it, neck and head still full and unmoving, like tipping a lamp onto a fluffy pillow. That's what this guy's head did. The neck was still straight, face still frozen in that horrible smile, and it all just fell back and to the side, like his right shoulder had deflated a bit and made his head fall. It sounds stupid, but it terrified the fuck out of me, because I have no idea how you could do that without breaking a ton of bones and worse.
It only lasted like…a second or two, maybe, then suddenly he jerked to the side. Not like he hopped, like something yanked him, hard, into the woods. I saw his arms and legs fly for a half-second like a doll being tossed across a room, and then he was gone, not a trace left. I drove like hell back home and locked everything up tight.
This was a couple months ago, and I've only been down Catscratch twice since then. One of those times, the last time, I saw that pickup again, this time pulled all the way off the road with two others beside it. I didn't even really look or slow down, and I've been keeping away ever since. I don't know of any stories or urban legends that deal with something like this, and there's been nothing in the news. My husband says it's creepy and weird, and I should share, so I have. I saw some weird, sick homeless guy with a messed-up face on the road, and I drove the hell away.
Thank you for reading, if you got here. I did warn you it's unsatisfying. My husband thinks maybe it was some sort of supernatural ambush or lure thing, but he thinks he saw bigfoot once, so make of it what you will.


As the beautiful sunset of Manila washes over my gears, I watch as the waves crash into the seawall, the sea breeze chilling my body, and I think about the world that came after my teenage years. Who knew I would meet a lot of wonderful people? I couldn't even imagine dating someone before, but now? We're planning to have a vacation on the beaches of Palawan and possibly have a honeymoon in my hometown.
An engine slightly hums behind me, then two strong arms warm my small body. A deep voice rings out.
"I'm hungry! Where are we eating? Didn't you promise me we're eating at a buffet?" he whined.
"C'mon Vincent, every buffet here is filled to the brim with people." I tell him. "If you want to eat somewhere, go ahead, but I don't have the money to feed you."
"Okay fine, we're not eating at a buffet." he pouted. He scanned the bay, like a predator hunting for its prey. "Speaking of which, is that an Ambrose restaurant I see?"
"Ugh, Ambrose is garbage compared to local food. You're better off going for the restaurants whose food aren't made in a factory."
"Oh, sorry I have terrible taste in food." he sarcastically said. "Besides, their adobo's not that bad."
"You only say that because you haven't tried the really good stuff. I swear, once you go for local, you're never eating at Ambrose ever again."
"Hmm, yeah, you know how much I like the… 'local stuff' here." he says, with a wink. His deep and hearty laugh rumbles my body.
"Fuck off, man" I chuckle, hopping off the seawall with a quiet thud and walking towards the restaurant where I met him. On the street, a magician performs a sleight of card with a deck of cards. She recites a spell under her breath, and with another sleight of hand, she throws the deck of cards into the air, which turn into fireworks that shine above everyone's head.
The neon lights above the diner blinds my eyes. I squint to take a good look at the sign. "Sinigang and Crispy Pata Diner", it reads. A waiter stands in front of the diner, answering the questions people throw to her.
"Welcome to Sinigang and Crispy Pata, how may I help you?" she smiles.
"Hello, I would like a seat for two, please."
"Please sit by the chairs while I find a seat for your two!"
I sit on the chair she provides while we wait for our names to be called. As Vincent's chin rests on my head, the various stares coming from nearby passers-by don't bother me. The various people seating one seat away from us don't bother me. The parents pulling their children away from us don't bother me. The sea breeze blows over me and I shiver. I activate my neural implants and send a message to him.
"We aren't staying here for long, right?"
"Relax mate. No one would harm you as long as I am here :)."
"Thanks <3."
I close my neural implants, look up, and my body warms at the sight of his smile. Our names are called and we order their famous sinigang and crispy pata combo. Around the diner, families are waiting for their seats, children are running around the tables, and the noise of the diner brings me back to my childhood where my mother and I would go here and eat. I still remember running around the tables, ducking and diving under the tables until Ma—
"Hello? Earth to Jun?", he says, waving his hand in front of my face.
"Wuh? What? Ha?"
"You always look cute when you snap out of a daydream."
"Oh c'mon man, let me have this one."
"No." he says with a sly smile. "No, I won't."
"Aww, you bastard. So, what are you asking?"
"You following me to the mall?"
"Nah, I'll probably head straight home. Haven't met my mother in a long while."
"Sure, go ahead. Just give me the address of your house and I'll be there, after I do my shopping of course."
"You sure? I can give you my GPS, if you ever get lost."
"Hey, I'm not that bad at directions. Besides, you're always there to fetch me anyways."
"I'm not your personal driver, you know." I chide him. "You should really learn how to drive. I swear, it's good for you."
"Hey I already know how to drive." he retorted. "Drive you in bed, that is."
"Oh c'mon, you can't think of a better counter?" I sighed. "This is why I easily beat you in fighting games."
"Yes I can, but you're an idiot that loves those lines to hell and back." he says, the rice and meat muffling his voice.
The steam of the sinigang warms my red face as I take a drink from it. After we finish our meal, he says the one thing I was hoping he wouldn't.
"So, when am I meeting your family?"

The sound of the broom keeps my mind busy until I heard the bell ring. He's back. I rush past the Christmas tree with presents under it, to the big brown gate. The gate loudly creaks open and his big body warms me as I am comforted and squished by his hug.
"Shit man, you never told me your house was this big!" he exclaimed.
"I'm surprised you didn't get lost on your way here." I joke. "Anyway welcome to my house, sit by the sofa, I'm telling Ma you're here."
I squeeze past my cousins, their sweaty skin sticking onto me, and rush towards the kitchen, where I can smell the rich and heavy scent of the largest lechon Ma is cooking for me ever since I left the Philippines. My brother is off to the side, the sound of calamansi being chopped and squeezed repeating monotonously while he pours the soy sauce using his normal hands.
"Ma, Vincent's here!" I yell.
"Ay, he's here na pala! Can you prepare some orange juice for your brother's friend please, May?" she asks my little sister while crouching.
"And why not give him a tour of the house, Jun?" she turns to me. "Better let him see where you both are staying for a few weeks."
"Sure, I can." I tell her. Going back to the lounge, I try to pull him up the sofa, but his heavy body pulls me instead into a hug. Pulling myself away from his grasp, I grab his hand, and lead him up the stairs while telling him we are having a tour of my house. As the crowd quiets down, and we enter my childhood bedroom, my mind wanders to all the possible things that might happen today. The cool air of the room makes me shiver as I put on a playlist and I relax in the warm embrace of his body. When the playlist ends, he asks me something.
"Nervous? You feel really cold right now." he asks with concern.
"Who wouldn't be? I mean, what if they kick me out? What if they say I'm not allowed to be in this house anymore?" I start breathing heavily. "W-what if they do something to—"
He pulls me into a hug. "Calm down man, calm down." My breathing slows. "It's okay, you're gonna be fine. I'm always here for you."
"Thanks man." I mumble to him. I hear footsteps on the stairs, a knock on the door, then a voice.
"Jun, kain na!"
"Don't fudge your words, okay? Remember what you're gonna say." Vincent whispers.
"I promise. Hope this all goes well."

"How's work, Jun? Earning that money?" Ma says.
"Work's fine, doing well. Might get a promotion next time." I mumble loudly as the soy sauce covers my mouth.
"Taking care of yourself out there? You know naman how people are out there, super judgemental about us." she says, as she places another slab of lechon on my plate.
"Yeah, yeah, taking care of myself. Been buying lots of skincare products, since my skin feels really dry."
The sounds of chewing around the table got louder as Ma stares at me. "Jun, why not remove your long-sleeved jacket? You look really unconfortable in that jacket. It looks way too big on you, you know."
"As I said nga Ma, my skin feels really dry right now." I blurt out. The steam of the sinigang burns my face as Ma continues to stare at me. "I also feel cold right now, you know. Besides, it's Vincent's jacket I'm wearing, so it's okay."
"You sure you're comfortable there? It reminds me of the time noong bata ka pa when you would wear that Spider-Man mask all the time. I even have some pictures of that time!" she smiles. She grabs her phone and turns to Vincent, as she places another pile of rice in his plate. "Hoy, Vincent, look at these pictures of him when he was a child!"
"Haha, you're right, he looks really adorable here." Vincent grins. "Guess he's still adorable after all these years."
"Syempre, he's adorable! Where do you think he got his good looks?" Ma grins. A chorus of groans come from the table.
"Hay, alam mo ba, Vincent, when he was a child, he would copy the stunts he saw on TV, para magpasiga and impress his crushes! Ayan tuloy, I had to bandage his wounds multiple times. Hay nako, you should've seen the stunts he tried to pull with the coconut trees we had!" Ma says
"Yep, that's the Jun I know!" A round of laughs come from the table while my face flushes with a deep red and I get up to grab some wine. I return to the table, wine glass in hand, as I overhear them talking about May.
"So, how's his little sister?" Vincent asks Ma.
"She's doing really good, you know. She is at the top of her class and she got very high grades. We're planning na nga to teach her some prayers to Ion after her next birthday nga eh, as a reward."
"Guess she got her work habit from Jun, huh" Vincent chuckles.
"How's my son nga pala?" Ma asks Vincent. "Is he doing well in his job?"
"Yeah, he is very… hardworking, you could say." Vince says with his wink and that sly smile on his face. "He always had my back whenever I had various… problems."
"Well, I hope he is very kind to you." Ma smiles. She then turns to me and places another heaping pile of rice as I absorb myself into the environment.
"Jun, you've been reciting Ion's prayers?" she cuts in.
"Yeah, yeah, I've been reciting them." I nonchalantly say. "Have most of them memorized, just haven't had the time to learn new stuff. You know, work and all."
"Jun, remember to place some time for Ion, okay? Don't let your work consume you." she concerningly says.
"Okay, okay, thanks for the advice Nay." I say as the rice muffles my voice.
As we continue eating the lechon Ma prepared, they talked a lot about the current issues of the Philippines as I bath in the smell of the sampaguita, the sounds of children singing Jose Marie-Chan outside our gate, and the blinking lights on the Christmas tree. As we finish off the leche flan Vincent bought for us, she asks me a question that almost froze my body.
"Jun, Vincent, when's the marriage?"
I warmed up when I heard the question, but before I can answer back, Vincent already speaks up. "We're probably going to get married in June. I mean, that is the month he's named after."
"I hope Ion blesses you with a very fruitful married life. Want me to recite a short prayer, Jun?" Ma asks.
"N-no thanks, Nay." I stutter. "Thank you for the blessing though."

The Christmas tree blinds my eyes while Vincent's body warms my left arm. My heart is beating slowly, my gears ticking quietly under my clothes. While Ma is giving presents to our nephews, she stops and cups her ears to my direction.
"Jun, am I just hearing it, or is there a ticking somewhere?"
My gears tick. My body chills. "I-it's probably the clock, it's kinda old, you know." I look around for the old clock we have and point to it.
"Yeah, probably. I'll have to replace that sometimes." she remarks. My gears keep ticking as I make a mental note to buy some silencers for them.
After the presents were distributed and our nephews say their goodbyes and "Merry Christmas"es, it was just me, Vincent, Ma, my brother, and May sitting around the lounge, with the Christmas tree in the center. Ma turns to me with a smile, staring at me. The Christmas lights blind my eyes.
"Ma, Brother, May, and everyone in here, I-I actually have to something to say about me and my l-life— ." I start. "Err, not really my life, but more of— You know, like how I— " I stutter. "Okay, this isn't going well." I mumble under my breath.
"Slow down Jun, we're not in a race." Ma says. "Now, what are you going to say, anak?" She smiles again. My heart beats faster, the gears ticking louder. My lungs drown on dry land and I breath in and out, in and out, like what Vincent taught me.
"Okay, okay, here we go" I mumble under my breath. "S-So, I've actually been hiding something from you all ever since I came here." I say. With a trembling hand, I removed my jacket, unwrapped the cloth around my arm, and let the Christmas lights reflect off my metal arm. The plastic joints in my hand move smoothly as I stretched them out for everyone to see.
"As you can see, I got a metal implant." I turn to Ma. Her face is a pale white. "Err, not because I got amputated or anything." I quickly correct myself. "I just, you know, am a Mekhanite now. Yeah, that's what I am saying. I'm a Mekhanite now."
Silence. Every second that passes, only silence. My beating heart tries to warm my body, while the ticking grew louder, keeping track of every second that passes.
May broke the silence. "Hey, it's okay Kuya! As long as you are happpy, I'm okay with it! I have Mekhanite and Sar— err, Nalkan friends and we are all happy together." she says, with a beaming smile.
I turn to her. Her smile comforts me. "Thanks May." I say. "I knew you were always kind."
"Yep, fucking knew it!" my brother jumps up and down while shouting. "I knew you were a Mekhanite through and through ever since I saw that metal arm inside your drawer along with your metal di-"
I quickly run towards my brother and covers his mouth. "Right, right, thank you for the very encouraging word Brother. Yep, yep, thanks for the support you gave me." My face warms up, and I turn to Ma for any response. She just sits there, red returning to her face, her breathing calming down. She then speaks.
"Thank you for that announcement Jun, I think it was hard for you to announce that to all of us here." Ma stiffly starts. "Okay lang sakin, be who you are, worship who you want to worship, as long as you are safe and sound in here, okay?"
"Thanks Ma." I go for a hug, but I don't feel any warmth from her.

The sound of roosters wakes me up as I wrench myself free from Vincent's body. I go outside my room and to the kitchen with the smell of fried longganisa hanging in the air. As I enter the kitchen, I see Ma chopping off her hand using her blade-shaped right arm, however, as I pass her by, she turns her blade arm into a normal appendage and grabs the nearby knife to continue chopping the remaining meat.
"Good morning, Nay." I yawned.
"Morning, Jun. Slept well?"
"Yeah."
I sit at the dinner table, water in hand, watching her chop the meat with difficulty.
"Jun, how's your relationship with Vincent?" she says, accidentally chopping off her hand.
"Eh, we have some arguments, but still okay. I still love him as my boyfriend."
Silence settles between the two of us, Ma struggling to cut her meat with the knife, while my body ticks on, marking the time.
"How's your job, Jun?"
"Okay lang naman. I'm having fun with my job."
"Maraming kakilala?"
"Yeah, mostly Nalkans, but I have some Mekhanite friends too."
"Pasalamat naman. You know, when I was a teenager, I had a lot of normal friends, you know? They always helped me whenever I had problems. Sayang lang nga they went away after I left high school after I came out to my family. Haha, I still remember the times I had to move from place to place because I was scared of people finding out. Be careful outside, ha?"
"Okay… Nay. Don't worry, Vincent's always here for me."
"Still, mag-ingat ka, okay? You never know when people might leave you, so please be careful."
"Thank you for the advice Nay. I'll go now, gotta buy some stuff."
Ma suddenly turns to me. "Oo nga pala, I almost forgot. Jun, can you buy some pandesal at the sari-sari store? It's just by the block."
"Sure. Anything else to buy?"
"Buy their chicken na rin. We're having chicken tinola this lunch."
Before I go out of the house, Ma shouts.
"Wear some long sleeved shirts, please. Wear a hat and sunglasses too. Alam mo naman how people are when they see those prosthetics of yours."
I chuckle. "Nay, times have changed." I say, but Ma doesn't chuckle back. As I go outside the kitchen, I only hear her sigh.

Saturday comes, and Vincent and I plan for the both of us to go mall shopping around three in the afternoon. After I took a bath, I wear my T-shirt and shorts, and start prepping for the mall. While I wait for Vincent to finish dressing up, I go to the living room and get a quick glass of water. At the kitchen, Ma is reading food recipes from some Facebook post.
She looks up and stares at me. "Jun, why don't you wear something less… revealing?"
"What do you mean, Nay?"
"You know how people out there are, they might judge you for your… things."
"Ma, it's been like thirty years. No one will notice." I say. But before I even finish saying that sentence, she already has a jacket, hat, and sunglasses on her hands.
"Wear this."
"Nay, I don't need and want to."
"Hay, wag ka na matigas ng ulo. Just wear them, please"
"Why though? People won't stare at me, it's not 2012 or anything."
"Sige na Jun, if not for your own safety, then why not wear them for me?" Ma looks at me with concern.
"Ugh, okay fine." The oversized jacket warms my body, while the hat blocks the sun from my eyes.
As Vincent and I go out to ride our bikes, she suddenly goes out with a pair of gloves in her hand.
"Here, wear them to cover your hands."
"Okay, okay, fine. Place them on the basket nalang."
"Be careful, ha? Be sure to be home by eight!"
"Nay, I'm an adult, okay!" I shout as I bike towards the mall, Vincent in front of me.

As nine o'clock rolls around, Vincent and I are just eating at our favorite diner. I open my phone and twenty missed calls stare at my face. Right on cue, another call comes from Ma.
"Nay, hello?" I say.
"Saan ka na, Jun?" she shouts.
"Nasa mall pa. Why?"
"Sabi ko home by eight, diba? Why aren't you at home?"
"We're still shopping."
"The mall's closing, and you're still not leaving? Hay nako, ang tigas ng ulo mo!"
"Okay, okay, fine." I quickly say. "We'll be home by ten."
"We'll have a talk, young man."
I close my phone. Vincent looks at me with concern.
"Do we need to go home now?" he says.
"I mean, if you don't want to…"
"You sure? Sounds like your mom was prettty mad."
"It's fine. I can just always explain to her."
"You know what? Let's visit one more store, then we're going home."
"Fine. So, wanna visit that tech store with all the cool new implants?"
"Sure, why not?"

As we enter the house, I silently close the gate, quietly park our bikes outside, and slowly open the door, only to see Ma sitting at the sofa, staring at me while I remove my helmet and place it on the table. As Vincent goes up the stairs to my room, silence wedges between Ma and I.
"Home by eight, diba? What took you so long?"
"We had to weave through Manila traffic. You know how—"
"Manila traffic is not that intense at this time of day, you liar."
"It's not like before, Nay. There was a traffic accide—"
"What if you got injured, ha? Who's taking care of you? What if nasagasaan ka?"
"I can take care of myself, Nay. Matanda na ako, you don't have to coddle me—"
"Anong take care of yourself? How many times have you've been almost ran over by a car? What if someone runs over you?"
"What? I won't, Nay, that's why I have someone with me all the time."
"Yeah, but what if they weren't there with you? What if someone stabs you at mapunta ka sa hospital?"
"What the fuck? That doesn't happen anymore, besides I can protect myself."
"What if you go out one day then makita ko nalang sa news you're dead?"
"…"
"You know how people are outside, Jun. They are very judging against people like us. Alam mo ba, I have a friend, he told me that he knows someone who came out to her family, the next day, nahanap nalang sa canal, with multiple stab wounds in the chest!"
I look at her with a puzzled face. I do not remember her face being this red before. This doesn't happen anymore, right?
"I also know someone who had a friend whose uncle was ran over by a car. Yung nakakalungkot pa, he was just seen entering a Nalkan church by his Mekhanite friends. Rumour has it, they are the ones who ran him over!"
"What the fuck?" I exclaim. This definitely doesn't happen anymore.
"All I'm saying is be careful outside, Jun. People come and go, people change, and people get angry at things they don't know. I just don't want to see you dead!"
"Nay, for the last time, I am an adult now. I can handle myself."
"Bakit ba ang tigas ng ulo mo! I've already told you a lot of times, all I want you to do is to go home early and be safe inside our house, but no! You have to be rebellious and disobey what I say! Why can't you be like your brother or your sister! Why can't you understand I'm doing this for your own good!"
"Nay, how many times will I say that I'm. Not. A. Kid. Anymore! " I yelled. "I can take care of myself, okay! How many time will I say na matanda na ako! Let me be independent for once and treat me like an adult!"
"Live in your own house, then! If you're such an adult, then why don't you go out there and be an adult with your boyfriend!"
"Don't bring Vincent— aaargh! Putangina mo, this is why Papa fucking left you!"
I quickly run towards my room, where Vincent is already asleep and snoring, my engine overheating, my heart beating. How can she not understand that I'm an adult already! Why can't she let go of me! Vincent's embrace warms my body, the hum of the air conditioner calms my mind, and I try to hold back my tears, only to feel water flowing down my face as I close my eyes.

The next day, I leave my room to go to work. I see Ma in the kitchen, chopping some celery up for dinner. I look at her for a moment, then I leave for work. The day after that, the same thing. For the next few days, me and Ma don't talk much. We just follow our own routines, Ma cooking whatever we will have for dinner, and me just repeating that same routine. Go out of my room, look at Ma, and leave for work. Every time we would be alone together, I would think about bringing up that issue again, but I keep my mouth shut and pretend she isn't there. Sometimes I'll see her on a Facebook comment section, reading about mothers and their children. Other times I'll hear her prayers to Ion, that I be safe against this world. Most of the time, she just stares at me when Vincent and I go out to either have a date or buy something. She doesn't even attempt to give me those jacket, hat, glasses, and gloves anymore.

It's New Year's, and my brother decides that we all go to the bay and eat at a buffet. Vincent and I bike to the bay, while my family rides a car to the mall. We park our bikes in a safe place and walked beside the sea walls, the very same ones where I met Vincent. Families gather around the food stalls set up, with fried quail eggs, fried squid balls, and French fries being sold.
"So, Jun, you okay with your family? I haven't seen you talk to them lately" he says, while licking an ice cream.
"Yeah, it's just that… uurgh, I don't know man!" I yell. "She thinks I'm still a child!"
"Maybe she's just concerned about you, man."
I groaned. "Great. Now you sound like her too."
"Haha, I don't remember being called Mommy, only Daddy."
"Ugh, you and your jokes."
"Doin' my part to lighten the mood. Anyways, have you tried talking to her?"
"Ehh, I already tried that, but she doesn't want to listen to me."
"But have you really tried talking to her after your argument? Y'know, like connect with her on a deeper level?"
"…n-no?" I quietly whisper and slightly shake my head.
"Why not try now? We're leaving soon for our vacation, and your time on this blue marble is only gonna happen once, so why not take the plunge?"
"You might have mixed up a few metaphors there."
"You know what I mean." he says, with a peck on my cheek and a pat of my head.

I eat my fill and go out of the buffet to walk along the bay. The cold sea breeze hits my body as I see Ma, staring at the setting sun, with eyes that once burned with emotions. I land on the seawall with a thud and we both stare at the sunset together. A tense silence settles between the two of us, my gears ticking, her heart beating.
"Leaving soon?" she suddenly says.
"Yeah. Honeymoon and all." I reply.
"Ha, I still remember when you were so excited for our trip to Baguio. You brought a lot of clothes and even had your favorite pillow."
"Yeah, I still remember those times."
A more comfortable silence settles between the two of us as the sound of the bay blends in the background. My gears tick on, her heart beating along with me.
"Nay, how was life before?"
"When I was a child, I was a patintero and Chinese garter champion. Me and my friends used to play on the streets before curfew rolled around."
"Curfew?"
"Martial law. When I was a teenager, I would swim on the ground we stand on, along with my friends. We had a fun time hunting for clams and fish in the clear water. Marcos turned this into land that people can build on."
"Huh, didn't know he did that."
"People disappearing was just a common part of life. You'll just have friends you knew since childhood disappear out of nowhere. You'll be worried for a few days, then forget, with your only reminder being that missing poster outside your house."
My gears tick along with her heartbeat as the sun blinds my eyes.
"And God help you if you were magic-adjacent. You'll then hear a knock at your door, and the next thing you know, either you were a traitor to your country, or you were found in a canal with ten gunshots to the back of your head, beaten and bruised beyond recognition, ruled a victim of the CPP."
Silence sits between the two of us, with the waves of the sea, the ticking of my gears and the beating of her heart accompanying it.
"You're an adult now, Jun. I will not be able to protect you from everything."
"Yes, that is true."
"I won't be able to protect you from people like Marcos."
"I know, Nay."
"But birds have to fly away from the nest, and I think it is your time to fly away from here, Jun."
Warm water starts forming in my eyes as my chest tightens.
"Remember to s-stay safe, okay?" she choked. "Just remember that I will a-always be there for you."
I hop down the seawall, and as the beautiful sunset of Manila washes over both my gears and my mother's flesh, I feel warm water dripping down my back as warm water flows down my face too.
"You are my son, and I still love you as such."
"Thanks Nay."
Her hug stays warm even as she release me from her grip and she wipes her tears off with her handkerchief. At the corner of my eye, I see Vincent, with his big dumb smile and three cups of halo-halo.
"I'll send over some hand-made longganisa next time."


"Callin' it fuckin' quits. We got…" Brad set his bass down and checked his watch. "… negative ten minutes till the kids show up."
Ashton Miyamoto sighed, either out of relief or exasperation. Yellowface was their bread and butter project, the thing that got them out of the house; it also consisted primarily of guttural growling and screaming, which was much harder than it sounded when Ashton had to both maintain their posture and work the keyboard.
"At least we kept your shack warm." Dontae sounded glad to be free, at least. "I need to go get groceries. There's a sale at the bodega off Negative 5th, if you like eating pinoy. Otherwise, toodles."
"See ya'.", but Dontae had already left.
In the interim, Brad pulled out a carton of incense sticks, sticking one in his mouth before lighting it with his trademark green fire. "Izzy's ain't one to be fuckin' late, tell you that much."
"Cousin, right?"
"Sure as shit ain't her mother, even if I gotta pick up after that snake." Brad offered Ashton another stick; given they weren't entirely sure how Brad smoked them in the first place, they declined. "Real piece of work. No fuckin' surprise she's a Jailor, Auntie Aggie'll do anything to assimilate. I tell ya, one time-"
Brad's monologue was cut short by the sound of a truck pulling up to the garage.
The truck was… well, it probably belonged to one of the "kids" from that new band he'd assembled. Burgundy where it wasn't chipped, which wasn't too much of the truck. Looked like something that drove in front of a drug-running car to distract the police; some of the (probable) repair work especially made it look less like a truck and more like an active car magnet.
The man who came out of the passenger seat was surprisingly well-dressed. "Oh, uh, yeah, sorry Brad. We, uh… had a bit of a problem."
"Fuckin' hell, Jack, if it's that vague what kept you?"
"Well…" Jack briefly glanced towards Ashton, before breaking eye contact. "It's a, well, it's a pretty long story, and Sara-"
A tall woman came up behind him, throwing an arm over his shoulder with practiced grace. "One word: rebound."
Brad pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine, had a bad week. Not like y'all need more'n one guitarist."
The man suddenly looked to the ground, while his companion grinned.
"… where the fuck's Izzy?"
The (now oddly familiar?) woman grinned wider.
"… sunuva bitch." Brad sighed, collapsing against the armchair in the corner. "Whose fault? Sara I get but… fuck, don't wanna think about this. This'll be the fuckin' death of someone if she can't keep it in her-" and Brad suddenly cut himself off. "… so I guess practice is fuckin' off?"
"I mean I got my drums, Jack's got a guitar, and…" that's when the woman turned to face Ashton, and her grin suddenly disappeared. "… Mitsy?"
Did they know this chick? They were starting to get the feeling they should've known this chick, and getting deadnamed only cemented that. "Eh, I go by Ashton now, but-"
"Holy shit, it's been two years!" The woman broke from the man, bounding over to Ashton and stopping just short of hugging distance, arms outstretched. "I haven't seen you since college! What've you been up to, man?"
This close… ohhhhh.
"'sup, Lye." Ashton smiled, briefly closing the hug gap before pulling back. "Sorry for the cold shoulder, but, your hair's pink, now, and…" Ashton gave her another look-over. "… difference two years on E makes, huh?"
"Prog, too." Lye's smile came easier than Ashton remembered. Hopefully she was doing better, too. "We need to catch up, I've got a library of shit I gotta share with you and knowing you, that shit's mutual."
The man standing at the precipice of the garage coughed.
Ashton furrowed their brow. "Somethin' up?"
He looked to Lye, instead. "Uh… Lyanna? This is, uh… someone you know?"
"Oh shit, Jack, how the hell did I never tell you about…" Lye turned back to Ashton. "What pronoun do you go by now?"
"Them."
"Tight, thanks." Lye turned back to Jack, giddy with a herefore-unseen excitement unmatched by Jack's own strained smile. "But yeah, me and Ashton go fucking back. We got into all sorts of shit back in college, anywhere from like, Halloween pranks to…" Lye suddenly blushed, then snorted. "Oh g-d, what the fuck was I doing back then?"
Ashton looked back to Jack, fidgeting uncomfortably at the precipice of the garage. Taking him in, it was hard not to remember Lye's Jared saga. "Spare Jack the worst of it?"
"Jack's heard the worst of it, trust me." Lye had her arm back around Jack in no time at all. Like most of the men in her tragically heterosexual life, she was out of his league. "Yeah, meet Jack." At least she looked happy. "Brad introduced me a while back, we've been thick as thieves ever since."
"Tight." Ashton couldn't believe they used to crush on this chick.
"But… fuck, yeah. Anyways," Lye looked around the garage. "Since Brad seems to have mysteriously disappeared again, we're short a bass, so… probably not gonna use it that long. You free in twenty minutes? Prolly gonna grab some pizza."
Oh.
"'mean…" A nervous chuckle. "Don't mean to impose…"
"Hey, you're my friend, Jack's my friend… not much to impose on. Not like I have anywhere else to go tonight, you know?"
Damn it, she'd really changed since college, hadn't she? Less antisocial, better-adjusted, not… not a fucking shut-in, like Ashton. But, well… good for Lye.
"Sorry, heh. I've got…" Their lips were chapped. "… promised myself I'd finish a mix tonight, heh, sorry."
Uhhhh, later?, they didn't ask, because they couldn't.

Organisms from the Kingdom Animalia didn't get finished that night, but Ashton gave as good as they could.
Which wasn't enough.

SoHo got colder with the seasons. It was something Ashton never thought about, the idea that a Free Port might match the temperature fluctuations of the world it inhabited. But when you worked graveyard shift security for a Hole to China, the thought was easy to fall back into.
Not like they had much else to think about during their 2 AM smoke break, anyway. Most of the people who were out this time of night weren't talkers; trying to change that didn't bode well for your abdomen or back (it all depended on who one bothered). Maybe if you were lucky, you got a visitor from Chigoku Cellar, too nervous to start shit and about as fluent in English as Ashton was in Japanese. Funny how that works, four years of one language squandered by seventeen years of the other. Buried by…
Ashton wasn't certain what point their internal narration was trying to make. In their defense, it was 2 AM.
With one final drag, Ashton flicked the cigarette butt to the sidewalk, snuffing it with their boot and bending over to-
"Ashton?"
That's… Lyanna's voice?
Ashton bent back up, primarily to flick the butt into the receptacle but also to get a look at the voice. Certainly, there weren't too many other 6 foot something chicks with pink hair who wore ripped jeans on the cusp of winter. "'sup, Lye?"
Lye smiled, but didn't quite meet their gaze. "Oh, not much, man, not much. I'm just, uh… running some errands, midnight, you know? Couldn't sleep, so…"
"Need or wanna talk?"
A nervous chuckle. "Fuck, uh, you know, it's just one of my ups. I'm not getting to sleep for like a day, why not make the best of this?"
"Lye, I work here. Not gonna judge."
Lye blinked. "Shit, you work here?"
"Graveyard shift. Pays well enough, uh…" Ashton scratched at the back of their head. "… did I, uh… I tell you?"
"I meaaaaaaaan, last time I saw you was before my Senior Project. You were still in college, so like… fuck, I don't know. I assumed you were a full-timer." Another nervous chuckle. Lye finally made eye contact. "What do they got you doing here, Ash?"
"Security room."
"Oh thank fuck, I thought you were a cop." She still looked on edge.
"You know, Lye, you're allowed to like porn. I won't judge."
Lye's eyes went wide. "I'm not-I'm here to return a record, Ash. It's… I'm not some kind of pervert who needs d-dubious magic hentai, you know?"
Ashton rolled their eyes. Same old Lyanna. "Got it. Need any recommendations, I got ten minutes before I'm needed in the camera room. Can't promise I do too much absinthe, and if you change your mind, what I think you'll like's gonna be filtered through comphet. Take care, Lye."
Lye nodded stiffly, and entered the store.
***
Lye emerged three minutes later, clutching some album with a subway station on the cover like she was afraid to be seen with it.
Ashton gave a low whistle. "Haven't listened to that one."
Lye jumped, recomposing herself only once she spotted Ashton. "G-d, it's… I'm sorry, it's a whole fucking world in there."
"Don't I know it."
A pause. Ashton fingered the carton in their jacket, fiddling with the lid but not making a move to pull out another cig. "… look, it's cool. The Hole has what you need, shitty noise, whatever. Hole has a lot of what people need. No one's gonna judge you for being human, 'aight?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's, uh… is what it is, you know?" Lyanna sighed, pulling a pack from her bag and removing four sticks of gum, two of which were offered to Ashton. They shook their head, and Lye popped her pieces and put the rest away. "Fucking hell, it's like… I don't know, it's been two years. And… shit, I don't even know how to put it."
"I get you."
Lye sighed once more, opening her mouth to say something until it got lost in her confused expression. In her defense, Ashton wasn't sure how to break the pause, either.
Lye spoke first. "… isn't your birthday coming up? That's… you'll be 22, right?"
It was in-fact, as Ashton only just remembered, coming up in about two months. December 19th. The day it all went to shit. "Mean… I guess?"
"Fuck yeah, cool. You wanna do something for that? Together, with friends, etc.?"
Ashton froze up. "Uh, well…" Yes, no, give me time to think of a valid excuse to get out of this so I don't have to go outside because apparently I'm deathly afraid of that now that I live alone. "… sure, yeah."
Fuck. Damn it.
Lyanna smiled like she wasn't just being polite; Ashton never thought the sight of it could make their stomach drop as much as it did. "Fuck yeah. Yeah, just give me like, the exact date and time, and I'll see if I can't drag my bandmates along." So… genuine, her grin. So hard not to return it. "G-d damn, you'll love 'em. Gimme a date and I'll corral those cats into the cage, or however the fuck you say it."
"Oh, uh, sure, cool." Ashton scratched their head. "Yeah… December 19th?"
Lyanna whipped out her phone. "19th, got it. Well, I gotta go before Brad gets worried. TTYL?"
"Uh… yeah, sure."
Lyanna walked away, not quite in shame but at the very least colored by a cloud of Ashton's.

this still your number?

Oh, hey Lye.

sup girllllll!

fuck, sorry. Trying to think of another term that doesn't sound passive-aggressive

pal?

Don't worry about it, Lye. :)

okay! 😎

how've you been? It's been ages since I last texted you

I'm not being annoying, am I?

shit, fuck. I'm clingy, aren't I

please tell me what I did

if you don't want to reconnect I'm fine with that but i want to know what I did wrong

Shit, sorry. I'm

…

Call you?

***
Ashton was greeted with a "G-d I'm so fucking sorry," in the intonation of someone who'd just run over their dog as soon as they picked up the phone. Same old Lyanna.
"'sfine, Lye. You, uh… caught me busy, heh." The Vietnamese take-out and now muted public access trash tv suggested otherwise, but that was one of the wonders of the modern world, no? "Seriously, we're cool."
"Fuck, thank you." Lye sighed over the line. "Shit, I told myself I wouldn't get like… g-d, I'm sorry."
"Don't need to apologize, man." A pause. "Shit, sorry."
Lye laughed; a step up, at least. "It's fine, Ash… you don't mind being called that, right?"
"One, you're my friend, you can call me whatever long as it's not 'Mitsuki'. Two, named myself after Bowie. If Ash's good for him, good for me."
"… Bowie?"
"Ash Bowie. From Polvo."
"Wow, I can't believe I'm friends with a fucking nerd."
It wasn't much, but it still pulled a laugh out of Ashton. Things were just funnier at… 1:19 AM, if Ashton's clock was still up to date. "You're one to talk, grease monkey. Have any luck with those RC cars? What about Number 7, ever fix that one?"
Lye sputtered. She knew exactly what Ashton meant, from the sounds of it. "You can't, you… fuck, you can't just bring that up! That was years ago!"
"Yeah, good ol' days, back…"
Ashton trailed off, looking back to the incomprehensible infomercial playing silently on their TV; to the brick view just outside their window; to the tear-off calendar on the wall that, even forgotten, still marked a day almost two years since the last time Ashton had had someone over. They opened their mouth to say something, and nothing came out.
It was, once again, Lye who broke the silence. "… I miss this, Ash. Just… middle of the night, shooting the shit with you. It's… you're still my friend, right?"
"Cried on my couch too many times for the answer to be 'no', Lye."
Lye laughed again, a single chuckle less of mirth and more of… well, Lye's emotions were somewhat complicated, as Ashton remembered it. "Thanks, Ash. It's… fuck, I just worry, alright? I haven't heard from you in years and finding you with Brad again, it feels like, I don't know, maybe I… maybe I wasn't worth remembering."
"You? You're really hard to forget, Lye." Another pause. "In a good way."
"Thanks. It's… I wanna be your friend again, you know? Yeah, we're still friends, but friend stuff. Hanging out, doing… whatever. Weed or Melee or music mixing. You know?"
Ashton swallowed, finding themself looking up at the plaster ceiling. No idea why; certainly there wasn't anything up there, or at least nothing up there that was out of place. Frankly, there wasn't much to their apartment in the first place, given the sheer difficulty involved in hauling things through a shopfront and up two flights of stairs. Or is that yet another excuse, the ones Ashton always-
"You alright?"
Something broke in Ashton's head, putting their mouth on autopilot. "I'm scared." The world was glossing over itself, now, like warped glass overlooking a dune of plaster sand. "Of outside, of people, of, of…. I'm scared, Lye, I don't know." A ringing in their ears. They closed their eyes. "I don't know."
Lye went silent in turn, for a while. "… I'm sorry, I don't… I don't know, either. But I feel like we did, once. Wanna… relearn it, together?"
A stupid response, and despite everything, Ashton found themself smiling.

"I'm telling you, Mips's patch is a wonder. Sure you don't want the crack?"
Lye hadn't trampled everything as she stepped inside, hadn't insulted Ashton or denigrated their sense of decoration or exposed their deepest, darkest vulnerabilities, brought with her no icon of their mistakes or instrument of their demise or anything other than her dingy laptop and some cheap pizza. Honestly, everything said and done, chatting video games as the two worked on separate projects was rather chill in comparison to most of Ashton's hypotheticals. So that was a relief.
Ashton saved their current track before removing their earbuds and turning towards Lye. "I run Mac, Lye. New Vegas is Windows."
"Knowing Mips, that's not gonna be a problem." In contrast, Lye's fingers and eyes were stuck to the keyboard and screen, respectably. "Girl's a fucking genius. Legitimately surprised she's not signed onto some big-name hacker collective… actually, do they pay anyone?"
"Collectives?"
"Yeah, the spooky ones."
"Guess it depends."
"I mean, yeah, CIA or Google or whatever, but in general, you know?" Lye did something her computer apparently didn't like, and Ashton wasn't certain whether to warn against burning herself or ask if they could sample her fan's noise. Come to think of it…
Ashton re-donned their earbuds and opened Track 2. "Outside that? It's… lots of black hats, I guess. Can't be legal."
"Well, you know what they say, crime pays."
"Don't know if they say that."
"At least it's what they mean."
From there, a lull in conversation. It wasn't too bad; the mere presence of someone else in Ashton's apartment felt nice against the usual loneliness, especially when it was an old friend. Besides, Ashton wasn't much for talking, and they couldn't imagine either of their projects benefiting from continued conversation.
Maybe things were going to be okay.
"Yo, weren't you working on a mix?"
Things were not going to be okay.
Great, Lyanna was going to hear Ashton's stupid joke music and realize what a failure they were. They'd be back to being alone, like what Lye talked about in her… oh fuck it, that was just enough self awareness for Ashton's next words:
"I'm scared about whether you'll like my anart, but I wanna get better about… friend stuff. Can you wait til you're home to open a zip?"
Lye briefly looked away from the screen to smile. "No sweat, Ash. I mean… you don't have to send it if you don't want to."
Ashton gulped. "I want to."
It didn't help their anxiety once they'd actually emailed Lye the zip, but at least the expense of present Ashton made past Ashton happy.

Ashton picked up their phone. "Yo?"
"Hey, Ash. So I was hanging with Izzy, and your-"
An indistinct sound like flesh against leather cut Lyanna off, only to be replaced by a smoother, vaguely English voice. "That was killer! God, I'm almost furious at how much effort you put into that mix, This Town Needs Guns was not meant to be as funny as that was."
"Uh… thanks." Realistically, they should've been panicking at the thought of someone else hearing their music.
"Really, I'd love to meet up if you-"
Click.
… 'that was an accident', they told themself.
***
By the time Lye called again, six hours later, 'that was an accident' had morphed into 'that was unforgivable'. It was with reasonable apprehension, then, that Ashton picked up their phone.
"Hey, Ash."
Ashton opened their mouth to reply, and nothing quite came out.
"… look, Ash, I just-"
"I'm sorry." Ashton swallowed. "Shouldn't have just, just hung up. Shouldn't have blown her off like that."
"Don't worry about-"
"I was rude to her cause I was scared but I shouldn't have, well, just interrupted. It was rude to her and shit, it was rude to you, Lye-"
"Seriously, Ash, it's-"
"I'm sorry, Lye, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened that I'm so paranoid but I shouldn't be taking it out on-"
"She wants to apologize, Ash."
A pause. "… apologize?"
"Yeah, to you." Lyanna sighed from the other end of the line. "It's… she got angry after you — after the call cut off, and said some… things, which she really fucking regrets. There's also, like, listening to the track and putting you in a corner, you know, but the main thing she wanted to apologize for was the stuff she said."
"I, uh… didn't hear it?"
"She's… Izzy's got a heart in a rough place. It's, uh… I mean it's not my place to speculate. Point is, she's sorry, and it really helps her if you know that."
Izzy… wanted to apologize to them? For something they didn't even hear? That was… fine, really. Didn't make too much sense but whatever floats her boat, huh?
"… yeah, tight. Tell her… tell her I accept, yeah?"
"Got it, yeah."
"… tell her, uh… she can come over. Tomorrow."
"You don't gotta force yourself on our behalf, Ash."
"Yeah, just…" Ashton licked their lips. "… just wanna be better. At this stuff. Like you, Lye."
"I mean, thanks, but…" Lyanna cut herself off with another sigh. "Thanks. I'll talk it over with Izzy. She's got packed work, but we'll work something out, alright? She… does wanna meet you."
"Fucked up."
"Yeah." Another pause. "Night, Ash. I, uh… I love you and appreciate our friendship."
"… same, Lye. Night."
Ashton hung up.

Unlike Lyanna, Izzy was exactly as terrifying to meet as Ashton had expected.
Maybe it was her sense of style, dressed in a pressed button-up and slacks, with a butch cut and the sort of resting bitch face you saw on the likes of bouncers or auditors. It could just as easily have been how she held herself, like she was disappointed at anything and everything before her. Or, perhaps, it was the way parts of her… "flickered", went shapeless for the briefest of instants, whenever Ashton looked at her too hard.
Whatever it was, it'd been there for the thirty seconds of awkward silence after Ashton had opened their door. "… hi."
"Greetings. Ashton, right?"
"… yeah."
A pause.
Izzy tilted her head. "Can I listen to more of your music?"
Ashton exhaled a breath they didn't know they'd been holding. "Yeah, come in."
Izzy moved like a dancer as she slunk inside, settling onto the sofa with a boneless grace almost too practiced not to be a blanket insult to those around her. Like nothing was worth it, Ashton most especially. The idea that her and such an unabashed low-life (in the best possible sense) like Brad were cousins was almost inconceivable.
It was hard to keep Ashton's eyes off her as they made their way to the mac. "I… I dunno what Lye showed you. So, uh… mean, some of this is unfi-"
"Am I bothering you, Ashton?"
They didn't mean to facepalm. "No, no, you're cool. It's…"
Even Izzy's sighs carried the pomp of an actress with them. "You don't need to lie to me, Ashton. I'm… I have a bad tendency of imposing myself. I've been trying to work on it, of course, but it's… very hard to help it, you must understand."
Ashton's mac was under a pile of junk. Why hadn't they taken the time to clean this place beforehand? "Seriously, dude, 's cool. It's… mean, I'm kinda scared I'm bothering you."
"I'd definitely let you know if you were bothering me." Izzy twisted around with uncanny ease. "People always expect me to be direct, no? Comes with being butch."
"My experience, they ignore me." Aaaaaaaand out comes the mac. "You, uh… certain you still wanna hear my shit?"
Izzy smiled. "You say that like-"
***
As Track 15 faded out, Izzy remained wide-eyed and staring at the ceiling from her spot on the sofa.
'So,', what Ashton would've started with if they weren't cringing into themselves enough to start a singularity. What the hell were they thinking? You didn't just unleash experimental anart on someone you just met! Great, she hated it and-
Izzy cleared her throat. "… have any weed? I might need another listen to… process that."
"God, I'm sor-"
"In a good way, mind you."
Ah.
***
Funny how a nugget of weed smoothed everything over; light into light, legitimate fears into paper tigers, metaphors into unfocused thoughts.
The pretense of music had been dropped an hour ago, around the time Izzy had noticed Ashton's (borrowed, right?) copy of Demon's Souls. Currently, she was struggling through the Boletaria Palace; Ashton had to resist backseating her gameplay, which the weed was making increasingly harder. Harder as in resisting backseating. Possibly also Demon's Souls.
Izzy groaned in frustration after yet another death at the hands of the zombie mobs. "This game is awful."
"Eh, you learn."
"Pure masochism, Ashton. Where's the lesson in that?" Izzy set her controller onto the coffee table and sank further into the couch. "I'm… I'm so much better at fighting games."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah… goddamn right I am." Izzy grinned; were her teeth always that sharp? "I'm a ffffucking queen, Ashton. Queen of buttons. Better than… than anyone else."
"I dunno. Lye's pretty good."
Izzy's grin just got wider, as if Ashton's words were just what she needed to hear. She picked up her controller and went right at it again. Ashton didn't mind the lull; watching someone else play video games was kind of hypnotic, even if they'd never been all that into Let's Plays. The specific sort of silence one needed for Demon's Souls was the sort Ashton thrived in.
And so Izzy just went at it, like a bull in a china shop. So confident. Self-assured. Rolling with every swipe of a sword. Water off the back of a duck who played at sogginess. This metaphor was getting away from Ashton. Whatever.
It was after Izzy's first death to Phalanx that Ashton next spoke. "How… how do you do it?"
"You tell me, Ash."
"No, like…" Ashton did a thing with their hands. "… y'know, friendship."
Izzy… might have been smiling as she turned to Ashton, but the expression quickly vanished, along with any of the words she meant to say. It was a hot minute before she finally spoke. "… what exactly do you mean?"
"Y'know, like… friends." Ashton shifted their position, or attempted to do so and merely sunk further into the cushions. "With Lye or Jack, or, uh… what's her name, Sally? Your guitarist."
Izzy opened her mouth to say something, stopped, and broke eye contact. She then looked back up at Ashton, sighed, opened her mouth again, cut herself off and broke eye contact again, set down the controller, furrowed her brow, and began flickering far more frequently than she had in the past few hours. Finally she blinked, licked her lips (did her tongue always look like that?) and shrugged. "… I guess they are my friends."
Ashton furrowed their brow in turn. "What's that mean?"
"I mean they're my bandmates, you know?" Izzy seemed to melt into the couch crevices. "You come together, you make music with them, but… they're not strictly your friends, are they?"
"Dude."
"Okay, yes, thinking about it, that is a bit silly." Izzy paused, bringing a hand to her chin. "If you had a band, you would be friends with them, no? Automatically, I mean."
"Have a band, and…" … oh. "… fuck. How's it done?"
Izzy's current expression was somewhere between a grin and a grimace. "Oh god. This a very… delicate thing, you're asking, you realize. Very bloody delicate. Oh my god."
Ashton did whatever passed for shrugging from their current sitting position. "Can't be too bad."
"I…" Izzy lightly chuckled. "I've just… you know at first, I was just trying to shag 'em."
Ashton blinked.
"In my defense," and Izzy rose from her spot on the couch. "I have a massive weakness for rocker girls. My last ex, Alex… she turned out to be a massive bitch, but my god she was a bloody legend, you know? I thought, you know… establish something first, avoid all the hassle of another knife in my back. So yeah, I just, uh… 'set the pace', so to speak."
A pause. "… so you fucked your band."
Izzy shrugged. "In fairness, I only got as far as Sara. I'm not exactly into men, so that's Jack out of the way, and I don't think Lyanna's catching my signals. But, I suppose that, in the process, I've become good friends with all three of them."
"Right." Ashton rubbed their forehead. "… you realize Lye's straight, right?"
Izzy quirked an eyebrow. "Her? Straight?"
"Yep."
Another pause. "… are you fucking with me? That woman is gayer than a pack of rainbow scissors. When's the last time you saw a straight person dress like that? And… and aren't you two exes?"
Ashton shrugged. "Trust me, had the same reaction. And, uh, no. I just crushed on her."
"Come on." Izzy rolled her eyes. "I swear, the way she talks about you sometimes, it's exactly how she talks about Jack. All this pining."
"… pining?"
Izzy said something, but it was buried under a sudden surge of… of something. Warmth? Residual aching? Something spreading out from Ashton's stomach and filling in cracks they hadn't noticed were still there. Treacherous bullshit feelings they'd gotten over a year ago. Something mixed with something mixed with something that needed to be crushed before they fell back down the rabbit hole.
"Are you alright?"
Ashton sat up and pursed their lips. "Yeah. Yeah, it's… yeah."
"Right." Izzy furrowed her brow and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just… I don't know, straight women don't obsess about their lesbian friend's feelings. They don't… bloody hell, that woman cannot be straight!"
"It's… yeah."
"Just…" Izzy sighed. "Again, sorry. I… right. So I suppose… all that's how I became friends with my bandmates. I… am guessing your band isn't quite like that?"
"No." Ashton wasn't keeping eye contact. "Two dudes."
"Ah." Another pause. "… let's talk about something else."
"Let's."

Ashton was being stupid. That was common for them, being stupid. They were too stupid to ration sanity through college and now they were too stupid to employ said sanity into… this metaphor didn't work. Because it was stupid.
Their reflection didn't look any less stupid. Dressing like they were going to go out and have a good time, reach out to a friend of their's. Who even wanted to hang out with them? Brad and Dontae pretended they cared, but the moment they found a better keyboardist that was all over. And Lyanna… Lyanna only hung out with Ashton because they were clingy and parasitic. And annoying. Very, very annoying. And even if she did want to hang out with Ashton-

-their thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Damn it, this late it was probably their boss slash landlord. Wasn't Ashton's fault the Hole allowed "honor duels" on the-
Ashton opened the door to an incredibly frazzled looking Lyanna.
Alright, "frazzled" was… not so accurate? A frazzled Lye was normal, especially during her "ups" (as she called what were probably hypomanic states). This was different: for one thing, there was a peculiar bewilderment in her eyes, accompanied by nervous twitches that went beyond the shivering cold. Her posture was… well, Lye was a sloucher, but this was almost… pangolin-esque. Come to think of it, her knocks hadn't been as loud as typical for Lye, either.
Lye opened her mouth, then closed it. Stood there.
"… need my couch, Lye?"
She nodded.
***
Lyanna was delicate, one could say. The kind of crier you wanted to hug, to pat her hair as she worked through her feelings. She also hated being touched, so Ashton did none of that, much to the chagrin of the traitorous part of their mind that had recently woken from its slumber. One just waited things through.
Not that Ashton minded. There was something calming to it, assurance in Lye's catharsis. That all Ashton had to do was be there for her.
Or maybe Ashton was too nostalgic for how it used to be.
Lye's cries eventually shriveled into deep breaths, like they always did. It was a while before she sat up. Longer still until she finally spoke. "… 'msorry about all that, Ash."
"Lye, it's cool." Ashton swallowed. "Want a soda? Know sweets aren't your thing, but… yeah."
Lye remained silent, staring at the floor before suddenly looking up at Ashton. "Yeah, yeah, it's… it's cool. Uh… no thanks. Just water, if that's okay."
Ashton nodded, getting up from their sofa to fetch a cup for Lye. Hope she liked tap water.
Ashton returned with a small glass cup. Lye took it with a weak grip and a weaker nod, taking a few small sips before setting the cup onto the coffee table. There was a brief pause before she finally spoke. "… promise you won't get mad?"
"It's okay, Lye." Ashton settled back into their sofa. "I… you haven't done anything wrong. Or, I don't… it's fine, Lye. I'm not mad."
Lyanna nodded, pausing to collect her words. "… I… I had sex with Izzy."
… hrm.
Ashton furrowed their brow as Lye continued. "It was… I mean we were playing Melee after practice, you know how… how that goes, you know? And… and I…" Lye burst back into indiscernible sobbing.
She kept sobbing as Ashton moved onto the arm of Lye's couch. "Dude, it's… it's not your fault if she took advantage of you. I mean, I'm sorry, Lye. That sucks. But-"
Lyanna laughed, a mirthless cackle with bite like an alligator. "She didn't, Ash. She fucking didn't and I'm a…" Lye interrupted herself with a sniffle. "… I wanted it. Gave into that… that stupid fucking impulse in the back of my skull, leaned in when she did, let her… fuck, I don't know!"
Something dark bubbled up from the pit of Ashton's stomach, but it didn't translate to words, and so they remained silent.
"Fuck, I just… she was just really handsome in that lighting, and she started kissing me and, and… I'm sorry, Ash. I'm just a fucking predator. Some… some stupid fucking predatory man in drag who tricks-"
"Lye."
Lye cut herself off, and turned to face Ashton with a look of… something Ashton couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was the smudged eyeshadow or snot that threw them off.
Ashton moved onto the couch proper. "You're not a man. Even if you-" that was not what they should have gone with. "… look, Lye. You can like other sapphic women. You're a woman, like them, a strong, beautiful-"
Ashton's skin nearly shed off their bones. Why that word?
Eye contact got harder. "Look it doesn't matter if… how you were born doesn't matter. There's, there's things. That you are. And…"
It was then that Ashton ran out of words.
Lye tilted her head and leaned forward, like she needed something. Ashton nodded, and Lye crawled over to wrap her arms around Ashton. It was… nice, in a sense, the spark of a selfish sort of satisfaction. The kind of comfort whose instigation was too raw to feel good about feeling good. Something Ashton wanted, and unlike Lyanna, didn't deserve.
Pulling back just a little, Lye brushed a stray hair from her face and just… stared. At Ashton. Just like they were staring at her.
She leaned in, and-
Ashton blinked, and pulled back. "I'm sorry. This is… you're not in a good place for this."
"Ash, please, I-"
"You're vulnerable, Lye. If we… it's not gonna end well, Lye. Not now."
Lye blinked, and smiled like a shuttered window. It wasn't enough to mask the disappointment in her next words: "I'm sorry, Ash."
"It's okay, it's…"
Ashton took Lyanna back in their arms. They didn't kiss her; against every screaming synapse urging exactly that, Ashton didn't kiss her.

The voice on the other end of the line was not Lyanna. "Hello?"
"Shit, wrong number?"
The (oddly familiar) voice on the other end of the line chuckled. "Well… that depends: did you mean to call Veronica?"
Ashton winced. "This isn't Lyanna, then?"
"Oh, no, you absolutely got the right number. One second…"
There was a soft sound of shuffling over the phone, before a distinctly familiar groan. "Apologies, bit of a mix-up. Can I help you?"
"Lye?"
"… Ash? Shit." Lyanna laughed. "You caught me at a very bad time, Ash. I… no, yeah what's up?"
Ashton swallowed. They had a good enough idea what constituted "bad time" not to press the issue. "Yo, sorry 'bout that. Just… checking in, dude. Who's Veronica?"
"Oh, that's my new name. I'm Veronica Fitzroy, now."
"Shit. Finally got a last name?"
"Yeah, yeah." More rustling from over the line. "Izzy helped me pick it out. You know, like… Aliénor Fitzroy? Famous Enlightenment-era French occultist, one of the few that wasn't a racist or pederast."
"It's a very good name," chimed what Ashton now recognized to be Izzy.
"But yeah, no, like… good to talk to you, man. What have you been up to?"
Ashton smiled, and fought back the rising feeling from their stomach. "Was just… man, I just realized I hadn't, like, planned out the birthday stuff. You know?"
"… shit, right, that's in… that's like a week out, right? Hell, I was worried that was gonna fall the fuck through the cracks, you know? You still interested in a get together?"
"Yeah, yeah. 'd love to."
"Nice! Yeah, I gotta… I gotta bounce, but I'll call you back ASAP. See you in an hour or so?"
"Sure, yeah."
"Great. Love ya', Ash!"
Lyanna Veronica hung up, and despite it all, despite the screaming and bubbling and storming doubts, Ashton left the call smiling.

Ess, Why, Dee

TAPE 2

i was a teenage shoggoth (Ween cover)