A man crouched on the floor of a dim room, poring over the documents and photos spread across the concrete. There were diagrams and charts tacked up on the multiple bulletin boards on the walls; one large link chart took up most of a wall. Four computers were set up on a table in a corner.

"Six pm...Saturday evening....same building...same floor..." he muttered, "It all adds up, but why don't they believe me?" He stood abruptly, "Everything connects..." he walked over to the link chart and lightly ran his right hand over the strings; his face had the expression of crazed fascination. The blonde checked his watch. "Hmm, 3:00 am. I should probably go to bed," His eyes wandered back to the chart, "but the project..." He shook his head and chastised himself, "No! Milo's coming later, I need to rest."

The man walked to the stairs and flicked a light switch. The sparse lighting faded into darkness as he made his way upstairs. He locked the door behind him with the key tied around his neck. The blonde strode to his room and lay down on his bed. He closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep, clutching the key in his hand, muttering, "Six pm...Saturday...fell...lies...was murdered...have to believe..."

---

Later that morning, at seven am, green eyes flashed open. Their owner's fist was clasped tightly around the key he wore. His eyes migrated to the digital clock on the wooden table next to the gray bed. 'Right on time,' he thought, 'Milo's going to be here in four hours.' The fair-haired man rose out of his bed and ran a hand through his unruly tresses. He wandered to his closet and dressed himself in a fresh pair of khakis and a light blue shirt. The man strode out of his room and passed through the kitchen. He paused, debating on his choice of breakfast, before he frowned and shook his head, 'No Carson! There's no time for that. You need to return to the more important matters,' he scolded himself.

Carson resumed his journey to the basement door and unlocked it with the key. His pale hand tucked the tarnished key safely in his shirt and made his way down the worn, wooden stairs. He then flipped the light switch; the dim lights slowly came to life. He made his way to the center of the room where the papers and photographs were still spread out over the cracked floor. Carson sat down, cross-legged, and resumed his pondering over the information.

Three and a half hours later, someone rang the doorbell upstairs. Carson rushed over to one of the computers in the room and pulled up live footage from a hidden security camera positioned above his front door. A taller man with light brown hair and blue eyes smiled up at the camera, "Hey Carson! You gonna let me in, or what?"

'Ah, it's just Milo,' Carson thought as he sighed in relief. He ran upstairs and unlocked the front door to greet his only friend.

"Milo! It's good to see you." Carson's face broke out in a wide smile. "Come in, come in." He let Milo inside and locked the door.

"So, any luck with the police?" Milo casually leaned against the kitchen counter.

"No, they still don't believe me," Carson huffed in frustration, "I don't know why! Everything adds up right!"

Milo smirked deviously, "Well, I know something that I think will change their mind."

Carson perked up and practically jumped onto his blue-eyed friend, "You do? Tell me! What is it?"

Milo laughed and pried the shorter man off of him, "You know that I worked in the same building, on the same floor, as your father and that man, right? On the day of the incident, he and your father both went out onto the balcony at the same time! He came running back inside yelling, "Help! Mr. Manchester fell off the balcony!" after the incident. I think he was lying..."

Carson's eyes widened in realization, "He was lying, because he was the one who pushed my father off the balcony! He didn't want anyone to know, so he said that my father fell on accident!" He had a twisted smile on his face.

"There's more, I was on the balcony too...I saw him push your father over the railing." Milo had a strange glint in his eyes.

Carson ran a hand through his short hair. He let out a crazed laugh, "A witness...I have a witness!" He danced around the room. "They'll have to believe me now!"

'Ha, I'm more than a witness...' Milo thought to himself, 'but he won't know that, no. Not until the final phase is set into motion.'

Carson grabbed Milo's arm, oblivious to the brunet's devious deliberations, and hurriedly dragged him downstairs to the basement. Carson quickly strode over to his link chart with some string, sticky notes, and a pencil. His green eyes were flickering with excitement as he added a new link and two notes to his chart. The link connected one comment to the other, and that annotation was connected to the suspect's location on Saturday, September 6th. The first note said, "Suspect followed victim onto balcony," and the second one said, "Witness says he was on the balcony as well and saw suspect push victim over railing." He stood back and admired his masterpiece, glowing with pride. "It's perfect..."

Carson turned towards the taller man, "Thank you so much, Milo. You've helped me so much throughout my quest. I have to do something for you!"

"We're not at the end of the road yet, Carson. We still need to present our findings to the police," Milo stated.

"Then let's go!" The shorter man shouted excitedly.

"No, let's wait until tomorrow. That will give you the entire day to compose your presentation. How's that sound?" Milo replied, albeit with slight impatience at his friend's sudden childishness.

Carson gasped in realization, "Milo, you're right! I'll have to get on that as soon as possible."

'Tch, idiot,' Milo thought, "Well, then I guess I'll be going. I'm glad I could be of help." He gave a small smile.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure you've got a busy day ahead of you," the blonde said as he showed his friend to the door, "and don't you worry, I'll have that presentation done in no time!" He saluted the brunet with a wide smile.

"See ya tomorrow." Milo raised his hand in a lazy wave as he strolled off Carson's front porch and onto the sidewalk. He pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head, his smile warped into a cruel grin as he made his way home. He chuckled,

"Hm, that moron. He didn't even question my withholding of information from him. He's so blind by his own obsession, he doesn't pay attention to the subtle details."

Milo continued his walk home in silence. His mind, however, was the opposite. His thoughts were of the secrets he kept and the plans he had devised. 'No, one knows,' he sang in his head, 'no one will ever know. After tomorrow, it'll all just seem like some kind of freak accident,' he let out a small laugh. Milo hummed to himself with a small smile on his face as he casually made his way onto his front porch and unlocked the front door. He grabbed an apple as he passed through the kitchen and strolled into his office. He sat down at his desk and contemplated his actions for the next day.

---

The next day, Milo and Carson went and presented their case to the local police. The police were skeptical at first, because Carson had come to them multiple times with "evidence" for the same cause that the two men had come to discuss. The meeting went well, the police were thankful for Milo coming forward with the information he had. Not too long after, the police arrested the suspected murderer of Carson's father.

"Oh, thank you so much Milo! They finally believed me, they finally believed me!" Carson was bouncing up and down with excitement.

'This idiot, he's acting like a child who's just received a bag of candy,' Milo thought. "It's wonderful, I know. You can finally live your life and not sit down in your basement all day," he said to Carson.

"Hey!" Carson protested. He sighed, "Well, insulting or not, you still helped me and I want to thank you. Let me buy you a drink or something."

"Sure, sounds great," Milo replied nonchalantly.

The two friends climbed into Carson's grey SUV, Carson drove them both to the best bar in town. They parked the car and made their way into the bar. Milo checked his watch; it read 5:30 pm. "Yes! We're just in time for happy hour."

Carson downed quite a few beers within the hours they were there, while Milo had only one. He needed to keep a clear mind and a level head; he couldn't afford to mess up.

"C'mon Milo, have another one! I already said I would take care of the bill." Carson tried convincing Milo to consume another drink. Instead he almost fell out of his chair.

"No, I won't have anymore. Someone needs to drive us home, and you aren't the best candidate for that position at the moment." Milo replied. 'I swear, he's so stupid sometimes. No wonder he hasn't questioned anything yet.'

"Aw, loosen up buddy," Carson said.

Milo sighed, "Come on Carson, it's about time we headed back." He held onto Carson's arm and practically dragged him out of his seat.

"Okay, okay. Let me pay first." The blonde went and paid for their beverages.

After Carson paid, the two men left the bar and got into Carson's car. Carson gave Milo the car keys and he drove them both back to Carson's house. After they got out Milo gave Carson his keys and they headed inside the house.

"Y'know, I can't thank you enough for your help Milo," Carson said as he stretched his arms shoulders, his back turned to Milo, "you're the best friend ever."

"Well, Carson, since today's been a day full of revealing the truth how about I continue the theme," Milo said, his face breaking out into a twisted grin.

"Huh, what do you mean by that?" Carson asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"You know how I said that I was on the balcony at the same time as the incident?"

"Yeah, what are you getting at?" The blonde replied.

Milo slipped on some latex gloves and slowly drew a large knife he had hidden in a sheath under his sweatshirt; Carson still had his back turned towards Milo, "I was lying when I said I saw it happen," he chuckled, "I was the one who caused it!"

"What!" Carson whipped his body around, to face Milo, but his eyes widened when he saw the knife in his friend's hands.

Milo's eyes were glazed with slight insanity, "That's right, it was me all along!" he let out a maniacal laugh, "and do you want to know why?" he raised the knife slightly.

"W-why? Why Milo! Why would you do such a thing!" Carson shouted, confused and afraid.

"Because your father caused the death of my mother!" Milo yelled. "When we were younger your father dated my mother, but when he broke up with her, she was so upset by it. She loved him! My father had divorced her, and then your father left her! She killed herself because of your father!"

Carson's jaw dropped in disbelief. "I've already killed your father, now it's time to eliminate you!" Milo let out another insane laugh. "My nights will be empty of anticipation, I will finally be able to sleep!"

Milo stepped forward, backing Carson into a corner, "You have no idea, how long I've been waiting for this day. My meticulous planning has finally proven successful!" He raised the knife, poised to strike; Carson's eyes were full of fear and his breathing rapid and inconsistent. "Say hello to my mother for me!" Milo yelled as he plunged the knife into Carson's chest.

Blood dribbled down Carson's chin as he coughed up the crimson liquid. Milo removed his hand from the knife and wrapped Carson's hand firmly around it, to make it seem like a suicide. The psychotic brunet took a large step back and watched Carson slump against the side of the counter, his last breaths leaving him. Milo removed the gloves and pocketed them; he wouldn't go through all this trouble just to have himself discovered through simple DNA fingerprinting. He left the house and closed the door behind him; he made the long walk home and went to bed with a sick smile on his face. He would finally sleep peacefully. His obsession had been satisfied.