*Charlie's P.O.V*

'The hell?!' Leo shuts me in the back.

I flinch, but he doesn't stop cursing until his engine starts. Light pierces the night, and - it's so bright; I see everything. I see my friend's trembling fingers.

He slams the gas pedal. He ducks as the man he called a father rains bullets at us. The tires screech.

I hate that we are going backwards.

"MY BOY, DON'T MAKE ME KILL -"

There's a sickening thud.

My breath hitches.

Leo gapes as his windshield gets smashed.

I focus on his reflection. Liquid seeps from his right eye.

The tires move forward, and somewhere along my blurred lines of vision, I see the mess I've made of his backseat. The stench of milk, vomit and... blood?

His father's blood.

I'm sorr- sorry.

"Charlie?"

I shut my eyes.

"Cha- please -" His voice cracks.

I think he shouldn't call me. No one should call me again. I'm not helping anyone with my presence. I sleep and pray that when I wake up, it will all be a nightmare.

When my eyelids flutter open, my mother, Sydney's voice invades my senses.

"Oh my goodness, what happened?! Did you get into a fender bender - where did you find him?-"

"Are you sure I shouldn't take him to the hospital?"

"No, no, you've done enough. Just help me here -" I feel her pull me up while Leo takes my legs. Within seconds, they're lowering me inside.

"I-I gotta go," Leo rasps. Sydney thanks him again, lifting my head as he vanishes.

Once our front door shutting reverberates, she spills some tea down my throat. I bear its bitterness till every atom of mine sets on fire.

*

*Mia's P.O.V *

After we get off the plane, my aunt makes a phone call despite my ardent pleas for an explanation.

"Joe, what is happening-"

"I need you to calm down, ok?"

"But, who were you referring to -"

"Mia, please!" She shoots me a glare. I wince. Other economy class travellers huddle around us, awaiting their luggage, muttering who knows what, hugging their thick trenchcoats. I grab Joe's arm tightly, but she's too preoccupied to notice.

"...Так там нет мальчика? ...Хороший. Затем избавьтесь от тела киллера. Я займусь остальным. "

{ So there's no boy there? ...Good. Then, dispose of the hitman's body. I'll take care of the rest. }

*

* Charlie's P.O.V *

Sydney is ballistic.

"Where were you, huh?! Do you have any clue how worried I was? I called Harry, who got to your new friend - thank goodness that boy found you, but like...what? Where were you? Why have you done this to yourself? Do you have any idea how I feel seeing you like this?!!!!"

Dead air.

"You -" She scratches her elbow, eyes turning glazed. "You... you took Harry's drugs?"

My gaze darts to the curtains behind her. Quiet settles for minutes before she huffs out of my room.

Remaining in bed, I hear her movements in and out of different spaces. It sounds like she's in the kitchen, so I close my eyes. As predicted, she reemerges with food.

"Don't let it go cold." She turns away after setting the tray down.

Little does she know that the food will watch me for the entire day. I conk out until she reappears in her formal wear, lighting up my bedroom.

"Did you not heed my instruction?" she says rhetorically.

I sigh, and she grabs the bowl of oats, sits at my side, and heaves, "You better open your mouth."

Then she does that for me anyway, quickly inserting a cold spoon before my lips reseal.

I gag, but she snaps, "Swallow it!"

After three more spoonfuls, my eyes beg her to stop. Sighing, she eats the rest. I stare out the window, stargazing.

"Goodnight, " she grunts.

"Good morning," she chirps in what feels like the next second. I frown, only for her to part my curtains. Sun rays flood in. I recoil.

"So, you're moving now. That's good."

I inhale as she adds, "Hey, how about going out for a bit then?"

No.

"Can't you talk?"

No.

Syd sighs, deflating. "Well, Harry wanted to hear your voice."

OK.

"I told him that you were fine," she emphasises, "and that you were just... in a bad mood. I think it's better he doesn't know."

I exhale shakily. She rubs her neck. "It's not lying. It's just... you know. He is getting better already, and we can't - we shouldn't pull him back, right?"

... Ok.

"So, that's that." Her eyes turn glassy. "And I'll see what I can do so you don't slack at school, okay?"

I smile, or at least try to. She rewards my effort with a shoulder pat before leaving for work.

As our home falls quiet, I hope to numb my thoughts with sleep.

Sleep rejects me. I try ceiling-gazing. No use.  I turn over in bed. There are no more happy thoughts or scenes or nightmares, or friends or Sil or anything.

I should find something to distract me - but what?

What can possibly distract me from remembering Leo run over his father for me?

I scan everywhere until it dawns on me: my odour. I roll to the bed's edge. My toes feel the cold tiles upon which I grovel to the bathroom door. After pulling myself up with the handle, I brace my legs albeit their wobble. I take a deep breath, one step at a time.

Soon, I am under a shower bath. As I amplify its pressure, water beats my back. I grip my knees, rocking back and forth.

An arm swims beside me. Then a leg. A rib cage. Thighs. The poor man - I shouldn't have sat on him. Where is his skull?

I stand suddenly. WHERE IS THE MAN'S SKULL? WHERE IS MINE? WHERE ARE WE? WHERE ARE WE?

It's evening by the time I get out of there. I curl up in bed when Sydney returns with a notebook. She quietly sets them on my study desk and gives me a wink. I nod in gratitude. I should learn rather than drive myself mad.

With that in mind, I make productive use of the next day, reviewing the notes. I am not too far behind in my lessons, especially calculus. Mr Henley just wrote an introduction to trigonometric integration and slipped in a get-well card with short messages from my classmates.

Get well soon, handsome. Bring us some cake, Einstein. We miss you, from Ezra. Sorry, from Rexha.

I frown. Aside from the teacher, no one talks to me in class or anywhere in school, so - What in the world did Sydney say was wrong with me?

She's fortunate to be at work currently. I rip the card into pieces. I am sorry, but no - they must stay away from me.

Having a shower afterwards, I see body parts again. This time, though, I watch them float around until a knock snaps me back to Earth.

"Charlie?!"

Oh no. I grab my towel.

"Charlie, are you in there?"

Hastily, I clean myself.  I unlock the door, and Harry jumps off my bed.

"Oh, bruv -" he croaks. I tense for a moment as he pulls me in for a hug. He quivers with a calming chuckle.

"Why are you taller than me all of a sudden?"

I shrug. Harry lands face-first on my pillow. I copy him, and he laughs. "No, dude, you gotta run first. You know, pick up momentum." Then he gets up and dives into my covers. I snort when he pokes his head out to exclaim, "And that's how you do it!"

Someone should tell this boy that my bed can break. I give him the death stare as he goes for a third round, but then he beams, and I forget to be mad.

He tells me about his days since the competition, about how happy he was until it dawned on him that I was missing.

"... So I called Leo, and he came to our school right away - so like we were searching for you, and I was ranting - "

I stare, confused by his sudden trance.

When he reverts to me, his ears redden. "Urm, Charlie," he says, scratching one, "I may have spilt something about... what Sil did."

It doesn't matter anymore.

"But I think Leo forgot cuz right after I left the car to shut myself up, his dad called him to come home."

His dad. I flinch. Harry mistakes my tremble for disdain, instantly apologising. I shake my head till he stops. He sighs in relief and looks out the window.

"Why don't we go outside? I got two surprises for you, but one is in the car," he quirks, rising.

There are two options:  cry or follow him outside for a few seconds.

I feel dizzy just walking past Sydney's door. We make it to the front door, and I reckon it's noon of the next day. He basks in the blaze first and then smiles at me.

"Come."

I breathe in. Take a step out. Then another. Soon, my slippers meet sand. I fumble with the door handle. I gasp as the air conditioner blasts on my calves.

"Hey, here." He slips the phone in my palm. I won't bother looking at it. I beam, grateful.

He sinks into his seat. "You're welcome  and, ur, whatever it is that happened -"

There's a pause.

"Now you call whenever you wanna talk to me."

No.

*

On Monday, I am on school grounds. I don't want to, but Sydney thinks I should. She feels that we should move on.

Fresh start.

She even reiterated her monologue as if Sil's attempted suicide was the blueprint for my behaviour, and I nodded and nodded, and now my neck is tired.

She grunts, "If you won't respond, well, get out of my car and have a great day."

And a great day, it's not.

I am the last to enter class, so a dozen students welcome me. I stagger to my seat. The guy sitting next to me babbles something, but I give him a curt smile. The one-sided conversation ends.

In Mr. Henley's class, I know there's no escape. He sees me, and murmurs fill the classroom.

Catching onto some words, it dawns on me: Syd said I fell ill from food poisoning.

Now she's a liar because of me. I bring out the worst in everyone I love.

After the lesson, I hand the notebook with a 'thank you' card to the teacher. Mr. Henley responds with: " Well, you're a great student, so it wasn't a bother..."

Fresh start, I think throughout his monologue, pushing back memories of Leo's windshield.

Fresh start, I think, in my next lesson.

And when I get home, it's still a fresh start. I lock myself in.

*

My room is getting sick of me.  I can tell from how the ceiling grimaces at night. If it wants to fall on me, it should.

I watch until a golden hue comes into view. The ceiling glimmers. It won't fall. Hence, I have to get out of bed.

School drifts fast. In a nanosecond, I am eating nothing in the cafeteria. I sit alone since Harry's crowd is a literal crowd.

Spectating his chatter, I smile, only for a classmate to block my view.

"Hey, can I sit here?"

You already are.

"Thank you." She twists her yoghurt bottle. After a sip, she asks, "You got a problem with your gum?"

I nod.

She pulls out a pen and paper. I frown, and she explains, "Look, I just wanted to say sorry, okay?"

Sorry for what, Rexha?

Noticing my confusion, she scribbles on the paper.

It says: I asked Anna to write up some weird intel about you, but she rather wrote about what your sister did and, you know, the rest. Don't worry, nobody else knows. I stopped the magazine's launch.

I glower, and she adds: As for Anna, I can threaten to get her expelled for violating your privacy. Would you want that?

I take Rexha's pen.

Reading my response, she grimaces. "You can say I'm weird for chewing paper? Huh -"

Yes, like this.

*

When you reach home, and all you've eaten is paper, what is the first thing you do?

I drink water, observe Syd in her room, drink more water, hope the ceiling falls on me, enter mine - wait, the door is locked.

I twist the door handle. It doesn't budge. Upon my seventh attempt, Syd comes out like the observant mother she isn't.

"Charlie, stop it."

Open the door.

"Charlie -"

Open it!

"Charlie, stop -" Her tone flares up. "You can't be inside all day -"

I don't stop.

"Krypton Charlie Hunt, I am warning you!"

"KRYPTON, YOU ARE HURTING YOURSELF -"

I smell blood.

"OK, TAKE!"

I collapse on the floor as she cups the keys, mouth ajar as if she just witnessed a genocide.

"Take them and then - I can - can't handle you. I ca- Get out. GET-"

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I unlock the door, grab anything and everything, and go.

Now, unto the problem: go where?

I cradle my bruised fist, sauntering about. Thank goodness Harry bought me a new phone; I search for a particular location.

When I get there, I see Leo walking out of the dance studio, head bowed.

I gulp.

He looks up, halts, and before I know it, he's shoving me back into the taxi. The driver tells him I must pay extra, causing him to seethe, "Charlie, shift."

I oblige. For the entire ride, he stares at my fist.

My heart is pounding too loud for me to notice his house. Leo has to pull me out of the car before I see the pretty flower pots at the entrance.

"Fuck!" He gasps once inside his home.

"Language."

"What did you say?"

"Mind your language," I utter. 

His shoulders sink. He retreats, and I follow him into his room, where he locks the door and laughs.

Never in my life have I seen him laugh so hard.

"...Is- HAha-  is that all you wanna say?"

My head shakes.

He claps. "What then? Why are you here?!"

"You brought me here -"

"Cuz like, for fucks sake, Charlie, I killed him -"

"Stop cursing at me -"

"It's over now, so move on! Go be a model or, or find someone else to worry about. Why don't you go to your best friend, Harry -"

"Because he's happy now, and trust me, I don't want to hurt you either but I  don't... don't know, you're the only friend I can talk to about this -"

"We are not friends."

Dead air.

"Leo. Please."

"Oh God!" There's a sickening tone in his whisper. " Dad was right. I shouldn't have ever spoken to you. Just. Move. On -"

I can't. Never could. My bruised hand smacks his chest.

He stiffens. I hit him again.

"That hurts."

"Sorry." I aim for his arm, but he snatches mine promptly.

Before I know it, my imaginary ceiling falls. "AAAAAAAAAAAGH-"

"Charlie, calm the fuck down!" Leo pins me.