The next morning, I woke up feeling groggy, the events of the previous night almost slipping from my mind. The boy with powers claiming to be from the future and needing our help—at least our dad's help—had seemed so surreal. I shook off the remnants of sleep, pulled on my white robe and slippers, and made my way to the kitchen, drawn by the sounds of my dad getting up. That also meant the mysterious boy was likely there.

I opened my door and walked down the hallway, passing by the guest room where the boy was staying. He was seated at the kitchen table, intently studying something in his hands. I didn't pay him much attention and continued on to the kitchen, where my dad was pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Good morning, Dad," I said, trying to sound cheerful despite the bizarre circumstances.

"Morning, dear. Sleep well?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

I glanced over at the boy before responding. "Well, considering we were threatened and almost killed yesterday, I'd say I slept perfectly."

Dad looked at me with a hint of concern. "I understand it's been a lot to take in. But remember, it's only for a while. We're helping him because it's the right thing to do."

I sighed, my frustration evident. "I get that, but it's hard not to feel uneasy about all this. I mean, who just shows up claiming to be from the future and expects us to drop everything?"

The boy looked up from whatever he was examining, his expression troubled. "I know it's a lot to ask," he said quietly. "But I really don't have anyone else who can help. My mission is critical, and your dad's expertise is... well, crucial."

Dad set the box of cereal and a bowl in front of me. "Just try to be patient with him. We don't know everything yet, but we need to be open to what's happening."

I nodded reluctantly and poured cereal into my bowl, trying to focus on the mundane task. "So, what's the plan, then? Are we just supposed to wait around until you tell us what to do?"

The boy shook his head. "No, not exactly. I need to gather more information, but I'll need your help to understand, we find my family and we'll see goes from there, good? Great." He says in a fake smile tone as he goes back to the object his hand.

I rolled my eyes and went back to my cereal and ate in silence for a moment, processing his words. "And what if we don't agree with what you're asking? What if it puts us in danger?"

Dad placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "We'll deal with it as it comes. For now, let's just take it one step at a time."

After finishing breakfast, I made my way to Sushi's food canister. I opened a can of her favorite food, dropped it into her bowl, and watched as she eagerly dug in. I gave her a quick pat on the head, grateful for the comforting normalcy of her presence.

I headed back to my room, passing the boy again. He was still focused on the object in his hands, seemingly lost in thought. I closed the door behind me and began getting ready for school, my mind racing with questions about the strange events unfolding around us.

---

- FIVE'S POV -

I watch as I watch Elliot's daughter walk back into her room, until I got up from the chair, walking up to his wall of phots.

"Elliot, did you develop these photos yourself?" I asked, not breaking eyeing the photos on his walls, pictures of him and Y/n. my gaze lingering on the array of pictures adorning the walls. Each photo depicted moments shared between him and Y/n. Photos of them outside church, Y/n wearing a white skirt and a sky blue button up top, holding a white tiny purse and her up in the 60's hair style and white gloves. afternoons in the park, Y/n blowing out her birthday candles with Elliot standing proudly beside her, and her holding up her school awards with a beaming smile. There were also school photos capturing her changing over the years. She looked almost like one of those elegant, shiny dolls you'd find in an antique store, with a timeless, polished charm.

I noticed the absence of a mother in any of the pictures. It struck me as odd, but I chose not to dwell on it, focusing instead on Elliot. He seemed to be lost in the memories these photos evoked, his gaze softening as he took in the images.

"Yes, I did," Elliot replied, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and nostalgia. Can't really drop that stuff off at the neighborhood Fotomat," Elliot said holding a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. "Government has eyes everywhere."

"I didn't see a darkroom." He challenged. For whatever reason.

"Yeah, I converted the hallway closet." Five began to scribble on the mustard colored box as Elliot turned a fail on the tv.

"Can you develop?" he asked, handing the tape to him. Elliot took the box, turning to look at the box.

"Huh. 'Frankel Footage'. Friend of yours?"

"Cousins on my robot mother's side," I answered before immediately adding, can you do it or not.

"Sure I can."

"How long?" I asked, rather impatiently.

"Well, I mean I'm running low on acetic acid. Beeker's Cameras is open today, but it's two miles away. I have to drop off Y/n off at school in a bit for her English test." Elliot started on another one his rants and I couldn't help and look at Y/N's closed door, which she was probably getting ready for school, her faint Elvis music playing in there. I don't have time for this.

"I mean, I'd have to one back and walk to the bus. On the other hand, Gibson's in only ten blocks away, but I gotta cut through the park and there's this overbreed of pigeons."

"Elliot!" I said as he turned back around, remembering the question.

"It's like five, maybe six hours."

A voice sounded over the radio I heard to the radio as turned the volume since it was a bit low.

"The hell is a code 3-15?" I asked.

"Fugitives in the run." Elliot answered, watch me move closer to the radio.

I whispered incomprehensible. I knew exactly who this was.

"Who's Diego?"

"Imagine Batman, then aim lower." I said turning back to Elliot with a black stare. "You get started on that film." I blinked away to find where the hell Diego is.

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- Y/N'S POV -

I sat at my white vanity, the morning sunlight filtering through the window and casting a soft glow over the room. I hummed contentedly to my favorite Elvis song, "Can't Help Falling in Love," which played softly from my tiny radio on vanity table. The melody filled the room with a sense of calm and nostalgia, making the morning feel serene and familiar.

As the song played, I focused on my hair, gently parted my locks, sectioning them with practiced precision to add volume and ensure they stayed in place throughout the day. I worked the brush through my hair, movements rhythmic and smooth. Each stroke added a touch of elegance, making me look effortlessly

I lastly reached for my pink gloss, applying it carefully to my lips. I ran my fingers through my hair one final time, ensuring every strand was perfectly in place. Satisfied with my  appearance, I slipped on my comfortable, slip-on flats.

I grabbed my backpack from the chair and slung it over my shoulder. I then picked up my stack of books, feeling the reassuring weight of them as I prepared for another day of school. The routine was comforting, a reminder of the normalcy I clung to amidst the changes around me. Even though a random guy is staying in my house.

Walking out of my room, I noticed dad in the kitchen, finishing up his breakfast. He was placing his empty cereal bowl in the sink, a sign that the kitchen's usual morning bustle had quieted down.

"I'm heading off to school, Dad," I  called out, grabbing my coat from the hook near the stairs door.

Father turned, a look of mild surprise on his face. "You don't need a ride today?"

I shook her head, slipping into my small, cozy vest. "No, I'm taking the bus with Bri today. It's a nice change of pace."

Her dad nodded, though a hint of concern remained in his eyes. "Okay, be safe out there. It's always good to be cautious."

I grinned and added a playful touch to lighten his mood. "Always. And remember, if that boy try's anything, remember we've got that gun for emergencies." I chuckled softly, knowing it was my way of easing his worry.

Father chuckled in return, a warm smile spreading across his face. He walked over to me, bending down to give me a quick kiss on my forehead. "Have a good day at school. Try not to let anything get you down."

"Bye, Dad," I said, returning his smile as I turned to head downstairs.

With my books clutched securely in my arms, I descended the stairs and stepped out into the fresh morning air. The chill of the early hours was invigorating, and as I walked to the bus stop.

———

As the bus came to a stop at the corner, I gathered my things and made my way to the doors. Stepping onto the bus, I greeted the driver with a friendly smile. "Hi, Donny."

"Morning to you, Y/n," Donny responded, his voice as cheerful as ever.

I returned his smile and made my way down the aisle, scanning for a seat. I chose one near the back, where I could have a bit of privacy and also a good view out the window. I set my backpack down and arranged my books beside me, trying to settle into a comfortable position.

The bus doors closed with a soft hiss, and we began to move. I glanced out the window, watching the familiar streets of our neighborhood pass by. The rhythmic motion of the bus was soothing, and I found myself momentarily lost in thought.

The bus made its next stop, and a group of students climbed aboard. Among them was Bri, who spotted me immediately. Her face brightened, and she waved enthusiastically. I returned her wave, and she made her way down the aisle, weaving through the other passengers until she reached my seat.

"Hey!" Bri greeted me with a warm smile.

"Hi!" I replied, standing to give her a quick hug. We both settled into our seats as the bus resumed its journey.

"So," Bri said, leaning in a little as she looked at me with curiosity, "what's going on with the boy?"

I was momentarily confused, unsure which boy she meant. "What?"

"You know," she said, a bit more specifically, "Daren."

The mention of Daren, snapped me out of my confusion. I sighed with relief, realizing she wasn't referring to the strange boy at my house. "Oh, Daren. Right." I tried to sound casual, though I could feel a knot of discomfort forming in my stomach. "Uh, yeah. We're fine."

Bri's gaze was sharp, and she didn't miss the slight hesitation in my voice. "You sure? You seemed a bit off."

I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to delve into the complexities of my home life. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind. Everything's good with Daren. It's just been a busy time, you know?"

Bri didn't seem entirely convinced but let it go for now. "Okay, if you say so. But seriously, if you need to talk about anything, I'm here."

I appreciated her offer, though I wasn't ready to share the details. "Thanks, Bri. I'll keep that in mind."

Changing the subject seemed like a good idea. "So, how was your weekend? Did you do anything fun?"

Bri's face lit up as she launched into a detailed account of her weekend adventures. She told me about a movie she'd watched with her family, a new book she was excited about, and a surprise birthday party she had attended for one of our mutual friends. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself getting caught up in her stories, laughing along with her.

As the bus continued its route, the conversation with Bri helped distract me from my worries. It was nice to engage in the familiar banter and enjoy the comforting routine of heading to school. The chatter and laughter with Bri were a welcome relief from the complexities of the past few days. The bus ride became a small haven of normalcy, and I was grateful for the simple pleasure of a good friend and the everyday routine that carried me through the morning.

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                     - AFTER SCHOOL -

After school, I walked out of the building with a satisfied smile on my face. It had been a pretty good day—one of those days where everything seemed to go right. I had fun with my friends during lunch, sharing laughs and inside jokes that would probably make no sense to anyone else. To top it off, I had passed my English test with flying colors, which was a relief. Every good grade brought me one step closer to graduating next year, and I was already thinking about how those extra credits would make the process even smoother.

The day was warm, with a gentle breeze that made it perfect for a walk, so I decided to head home on foot instead of taking the bus. Walking home was always a chance to enjoy a bit of normalcy, especially since things at home had become increasingly strange ever since that boy showed up. The boy whose name I still didn't know, who had appeared out of nowhere, demanding help and acting like he owned the place.

I shook my head, trying to push him out of my mind. He had been so rude and demanding, as if it was our fault his family didn't want to see him. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if they had left him on purpose. But then, I reminded myself, that's how some people are in this world—some are just... difficult. Still, it didn't make it any easier to have him around.

As I walked, the familiar sights of my neighborhood provided a comforting backdrop. The rustle of leaves in the trees, the distant hum of a lawnmower, and the occasional sound of a dog barking in someone's yard—it all felt so normal, so routine. It was a nice contrast to the tension I felt back home.

But then, as I was about halfway home, something strange happened. I heard a faint voice nearby, so familiar that it made me stop in my tracks. I turned around, scanning the area, but there was no one there. The street was empty, just me and the occasional car driving by. I shook it off, thinking maybe I was just imagining things, and continued walking.

A few steps later, though, I heard it again. This time, it was clearer, unmistakably the voice I thought I recognized. I stopped again, this time really looking around. There was a car parked a little way down the street, and something about it caught my attention. My curiosity piqued, I walked over to it.

As I got closer, I could see through the car windows. There, in the back seat, was that boy—the one from my house. Sitting next to him was another man with long hair, and in the passenger seat up front was a girl, who seemed to be talking to the man.

I blinked in surprise, my mind racing. What was he doing here? And who were these people with him? They didn't look like family, at least not the kind I'd imagine he had. I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach or just keep walking. But something made me linger, standing there on the sidewalk, watching them through the glass. Once I reached the window of the girl I didn't hesitate to knock, cause her to jump a bit and have all of the turn to window.

As I stood there on the sidewalk, staring at the strange group in the car, I couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and confusion. What on earth were they doing here? Deciding to get some answers, I walked over to the car and tapped on the window of the woman sitting in the passenger seat.

She rolled down the window and, without missing a beat, said, "We're not interested in buying your cinnamon crackers or thin mints."

I raised an eyebrow at her, taken aback by her random comment. "Good, neither am I," I replied dryly, wondering what exactly she thought I was doing. My attention quickly shifted to the boy in the back seat, the one who had been causing all the upheaval at my house. "What are you doing?" I asked, my tone laced with suspicion.

The man with the long hair turned to look at me, then back at the boy. "You know her?" he asked.

The boy gave a slight nod, his expression a mix of reluctance and resignation. "As much as I can't say no, yes, I do."

I looked at him, unable to hide my sarcasm as I forced a smile. "Nice to see you too," I said, my voice dripping with irony.

The girl in the passenger seat grinned, clearly amused by the exchange. "How adorable," she chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief.

I shot her a glance, not entirely sure what to make of her. Then I turned my attention back to the boy, still trying to make sense of the situation. "I thought you were with my dad, helping him with this world-saving thing?"

He met my gaze with a hard look, clearly annoyed. "Yeah, which is none of your business," he snapped, his tone sharp.

I folded my arms across my chest, not letting his attitude faze me. "Alright, enough of the girl, okay?" The man with the long hair cut in, clearly growing impatient. "You both need to leave. I've got some important shit to deal with."

Before I could respond, the girl next to him exploded in frustration. "Hell, hold on! I just busted your ass out of that place," she yelled at the boy, her voice full of exasperation.

"Okay!" the boy shouted back, clearly reaching his limit.

The tension in the car was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel like I was witnessing something that was way over my head. I stepped back slightly, unsure of what to do next. The situation was clearly complicated, and I had a feeling that whatever was going on with them was just the tip of the iceberg. Still, I couldn't just walk away—not with so many unanswered questions swirling in my mind.

"Listen," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't know what's going on with you guys, but if it involves my dad or anything that could affect me, I think I deserve to know."

The boy in the back seat looked at me, his expression softening just a fraction. "It's complicated, okay? But it's better if you stay out of it."

"Fine." I stand there outside the car, my heart pounding in my chest, trying to process everything that had just happened. The audacity of the boy, dismissing me like I was nothing more than an inconvenience—it had lit a fire in me that I couldn't ignore. I wasn't about to let him or anyone else decide what was or wasn't my business. So, I had done the only thing that made sense in that moment: I climbed into the car, refusing to be shut out.

The girl in the front seat had turned around to greet me, her tone strangely lighthearted, like we weren't in the middle of some tense, mysterious situation. "Hello," she said, her eyes flicking over me with a mix of curiosity and amusement. It was as if she found the whole thing entertaining. "Didn't think little boy shorts had the balls to make a girlfriend."

I barely had time to react before the boy and I spoke at the same time. "I'm not his/her girlfriend/boyfriend" we both said, our voices overlapping in perfect sync. The words hung in the air between us, and we turned to each other, equally surprised by the simultaneous denial. For a brief moment, our eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something—maybe recognition or annoyance, I couldn't tell. It was strange, almost unsettling, how we'd reacted the same way, as if we were on the same wavelength despite everything.

But the moment was short-lived. The man with the long hair, quickly cut in, his voice carrying an edge that demanded attention. "Alright, everyone out," he ordered, not even bothering to look back at me. His focus was solely on the boy beside me. "I need to handle this on my own."

The boy didn't even flinch. He was clearly used to his brother authoritative tone, but he wasn't about to back down either. "Diego, you're coming. Lose the crazy lady and come with us." He said firmly, the words heavy with a sense of urgency and authority.

Diego. I mentally repeated the name, storing it away along with everything else I was trying to figure out. So, this was one of his brothers. Diego—the sharp-tongued, impatient one. L

Diego wasn't having any of it. He shot the boy a glare that could've cut through steel. "I'm not going anywhere with you," he replied coldly, crossing his arms as if that settled the matter.

"I notice the boy looking out my window beside me. "Okay fine," he muttered. He basically got over me. "Officer! He yelled out the window beside me.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Diego asked him, pulling him away from the window.

"I hear there's a reward out for you and the crazy lady." He explained.

Me and other girl just looking at each while the boy and his brother talk to each other.

"He's bluffing," the woman said.

"He's not," Diego finally spoke. "Fine. I'll go with you," Diego said.

"What about me?" The woman said looking back the the boys and me.

"And I'm bring the crazy lady." Diego added.

________________________________

The car sped along the road, the hum of the engine a constant background noise that did nothing to alleviate the tension in the air. Diego and the girl in the front seat continued their low conversation, words like "Kennedy" and "conspiracy" drifting back to me in pieces. I didn't pay much attention. Whatever they were discussing felt like it belonged to another world, one I hadn't asked to be a part of but had been dragged into nonetheless.

Instead, my focus kept drifting back to Five. He sat beside me, his face turned toward the window, lost in thought. He hadn't moved much since we'd started driving, his expression set in a way that told me he was used to carrying burdens too heavy for someone his age—or whatever age he was supposed to be. His demeanor was so strange, so contradictory. He looked like a kid, not much older than me, but there was something in his eyes, something old and weary that didn't fit with his youthful appearance. It was unsettling, and the more I thought about it, the more I couldn't shake the feeling that there was so much more to him than I could even begin to understand.

The silence between us was suffocating, filled with everything that neither of us seemed willing to say. I could feel the words building up in my throat, a mix of questions and frustrations, but I didn't know how to begin. Every time I looked at him, I felt like I was staring at a locked door, and I had no idea where to find the key.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The need to know something—anything—about him outweighed the fear of pushing him too far. I turned slightly in my seat, my voice coming out quieter than I intended. "Never got to ask your name," I said, the words almost tentative.

For a long moment, he didn't respond. He didn't even flinch, his gaze still focused outside, watching the world go by. I started to wonder if he was going to ignore me entirely, if maybe I'd crossed some invisible line by asking.

But then, just when I was about to give up, he spoke, his voice as curt and clipped as ever. "Five," he said, as if that was all the explanation I was going to get.

I blinked, thrown by the name. "Like the number Five?" I asked, my confusion evident in my tone.

A brief, almost bitter laugh escaped him, but he still didn't look at me. "No, like the five in a second."

His answer didn't clarify anything for me. If anything, it only raised more questions. But I could tell by the way he said it, by the way his voice carried that edge of sarcasm, that he wasn't in the mood for further explanation. I felt a twinge of frustration at his attitude—why couldn't he just give me a straight answer? "Could've just said yes," I muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice but not entirely succeeding.

He didn't reply, and I found myself once again staring at the side of his face, trying to decipher the emotions that flitted across his features. There was something so closed off about him, like he'd built up walls so high that no one could even see over them, let alone get through. It made me wonder what kind of life he'd lived to make him this way—so guarded, so quick to push people away.

Despite his standoffishness, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment. It wasn't much, but at least I had his name. Five . It was peculiar, just like everything else about him, but somehow it suited him. It was a small victory in a day full of confusion and frustration, and I clung to it, even as the questions continued to pile up in my mind.

The car ride stretched on, the silence between us settling back in, though now it felt slightly less oppressive. I kept my gaze on the road ahead, occasionally sneaking glances at Five out of the corner of my eye. He remained still, his eyes distant, lost in whatever thoughts he wasn't sharing. I wondered what was going through his mind—what he was planning, what he was worried about. It was obvious he carried a heavy weight on his shoulders, and despite my irritation with him, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of concern. What kind of life had this boy led that made him so old beyond his years?

I sighed quietly, leaning back against the seat and staring out the window on my side. The world outside seemed so normal, so ordinary—people going about their daily lives, unaware of the strange and dangerous things happening just beneath the surface. I envied them, the simplicity of their routines, the fact that they didn't have to deal with mysterious boys who claimed to be from the future or whatever insanity my dad had gotten himself involved in.

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