<h1>''(text-colour:#e64980)[January 8th, 2016, Thursday]''</h1>
Surrounded by easels, canvases, and the smell of paint, a young man sat hunched over on the stool of an art studio as the scene faces his back.
Inside was silent besides the sound of brush strokes, though you eventualy could start to hear the faint, muffled sounds of chatter coming from the halls. It seems like a somewhat eerie, yet oddly peaceful moment.
Though, upon closer look, the dead look in the boy's eyes become more and more apparent. And as the scene went on, everything began to feel so, so much louder than they actually are. Not even just sounds. //Everything.// And it //just wouldn't stop.// Everything was starting to blur together, as the boy tensed up with more and more with this sick feeling in his head, mentally and physically. He didn't even realize the iron grip he had on his brush. Hell, he didn't even know what he was even looking at anymore. Just a bunch of colors. Colors and colors and //colors.//
</style>
<img src=https://files.catbox.moe/hin5n2.png>
</div>
//SNAP//
<h3>"Hey."</h3>
The boy jumped back along with a yelp as he suddenly heard a voice right next to him, earning a yelp from the other as well in equal surprise.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[???:] “My bad! My bad!”
The boy stared blankly, blinking twice as he realized who it was. He let out a sigh, letting his stiffened shoulders loosen and droop as he laid his eyes on his friend and his silly grin.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] “Mike… You scared me.”
“If you’re gonna scare me, at least don’t scare //yourself// too.”
Micah chuckled, giving a sheepish smile.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “I didn’t mean to! I was just looking for you since I was bored. And-”
He paused as he glanced at the boy’s hand.
...
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “You’re painting with a broken brush?”
The boy looked confused, before he too gazed down at his hand. His brush had snapped in half.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] “Oh… I… didn’t even realize I broke it.”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “How??”
The boy shrugged.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] “I was, uhh… a bit zoned out.”
Micah looked at him in confusion, before he shifted his eyes to the painting the boy was making, and his eyebrows shot up at the sight of it. The painting, although not completely finished, was of a pair of fluffy cats, sitting together by side on top of a hill over the sight of a beautiful city, one rubbing its head on the other. Micah gasped.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “KITTY! KITTIES, EVEN!! Oh, that’s adorable!”
He exclaimed, smiling ear to ear.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] “Oh. Thank you.”
The other boy's expression remained blank, though he did feel his heart warm up a little from the compliment, and felt the discord in his mind slowly die down. If art or peace and quiet didn’t help, Mike’s presence always brought him a sense of comfort.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “I must eat it."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] “For your own good, please don’t do that.”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “What? Not my fault your art looks so edible.”
“Eheh... By the way, I certainly didn't take you for the romantic type!”
He said smugly as he nudged the boy’s arm, to which he rolled his eyes and looked away in a bit of embarrassment.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] “It’s just a pair of cats being cute.”
He took a sigh, before looking down at his broken paintbrush. He made a confused face.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[???:] (How did I even break this thing??)
But there was no point in questioning it. So, he just put it aside and grabbed another. He turned back to the canvas now that his mind was more clear. While the boy continued to paint, Mike pulled up a chair and took a seat next to him to observe. He made an odd face for a moment, but paid whatever it was for no matter.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “But seriously, you could make a really good career out of this, Sammy.”
He said, smiling warmly towards him.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Hm. Touché.”
Sam tried to fix some of the mistakes he had made in his spiral earlier. He hadn’t realized how easily his whole mood switched just like that. One moment he felt like ripping his own skin off, and lighthearted and soft the next. The two just sat together while Micah observed Sam's painting.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (...)
(This is a bit awkward...)
(I *really* want to talk to him, but what do I even say?)
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[["How are you?"]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[["Speaking of cats..."]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[["Wait, what were you saying earlier?"]]*](text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Eh, pretty alright. What about you?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Not... as much... until you came in, that is."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Huh. I'm glad then. I'll stay as long as you need."
"Not that I have anything better to do."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..." <:]
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "..." :)
"..." :^
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..." :|
(Well, umm. That's really nice but that conversation didn't go anywhere.)
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[["Speaking of cats..."]]*](text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Ah, right.”
“Nothing much, I was just chilling in the library before a bunch of football boys came in and started being loud and annoying… Not actual football, the American one.”
“So with my reading ruined, I came to check on you.”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “What were you reading?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Oh, y'know. I was just checking out some psychology books. Can't say I've been doing too well when it comes to my grades…"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Right…"
"Have you figured out what to do with your degree yet?”
Micah gave a thoughtful hum, giving himself a few seconds to think about it.
He then shrugged.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “I’m still figuring that out, to be honest. I could do a million things with a psychology degree!"
"Work as a therapist, research a whole bunch of interesting stuff… use my knowledge to manipulate thousands or more into worshiping me… Not sure.”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Ah. Well, uhh... I think you'd be a good psychologist. A research psychologist. Or whatever you end up choosing… Even the last one-"
Sam cut himself off as he turned away from his canvas and to Mike, turning his glance to the chair he was sitting on. Mike raised an eyebrow, confused.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Why you lookin' at me like that?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Umm…"
"Mike… Someone spilled some paint on that chair today… And it hasn’t dried either.”
Micah's eyes went wide, and he slowly looked down, his face morphing into a look of horror as he realized.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “I sat… in a puddle.”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “You didn’t feel it??”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Uhh, not really???”
Micah seemed to immediately try to get up, but realized that the paint made the bottom of his jeans stick to the seat, making an awkward noise. Sam stared with a blank expression, before a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. In dismay, Micah said,
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “It’s everywhere… I swear if I have a rainbow ass-”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “I suppose you can say goodbye to those pants already.”
Micah groaned as he got up from the seat. He looked down at his lower body and the wet paint all over his back.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “OH, GOD FUCKING DAMNIT.”
(Sam couldn’t help but let out soft laughter.)
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “This was my favorite pair! And it’s probably ruined now- I-I swear, I’ll kill whoever spilled this paint here, I swear to fucking god.”
Sam’s laughter then abruptly stopped.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Uhh…”
Micah noticed, and he went completely silent as well…
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Sam.”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “I’m… I’m sorry…”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “You’re //shitting// me, Sam.”
Sam became clearly quite nervous, clutching onto his own clothes while quietly stammering. All the while, Micah simply looked at him with a stern expression. Although hesitant, he mumbled,
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “I’m sorry…”
Mike was still quiet for a bit, only to instantly melt at Sam’s anxious face... He sighed.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “How am I supposed to stay mad when you’re looking like that?”
Micah gently ruffled Sam’s hair to soothe him, before looking back down at his ruined pants.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Oh, god these are completely ruined, aren’t they?”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Eeeehhh… If I’m honest, they aren’t really your best pair.”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Excuse you, I look great in these pants… Especially with how they make my ass look so amazing.”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “No one’s looking at your ass other than me, Mike.”
Sam joked in an oddly blunt manner, which he then proceeded to instantly regret as he realized how weird that sounded. Micah stared at him utterly dumbfounded, and a sense of dread started building up inside Sam, terrified that he upset him.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "SORRY, sorry, that- oh god, that was funnier in my head-"
Micah then suddenly burst out into a roar of laughter.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “AHAHA!! Oh, Jesus Christ, you can’t just drop a bombshell like that on me! Since when were you the type to make jokes like that!?”
Sam, flustered, got defensive as Micah continued to giggle.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I-I don't actually do that, I don't actually do that, i-it was a joke! I HAVEN'T PROPERLY SOCIALIZED IN YEARS, MIKE, I DON'T KNOW HOW WHAT'S APPROPRIATE!"
That just made Micah laugh his ass off more, wheezing.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Oh my god, I’m kidding, it’s OK! Ehehe…!"
"Seriously though, you should make more of those more often. I’m used to hearing you stutter, not you boldly claiming you check my ass out!”
He giggled some more, now leaning over Sam and giving him another affectionate pat on the head. It was one of his ways of showing affection, or at the very least, riling Sam up.
Though, the sound of his laughter slowly died down as the door to the art room creaked open, catching their attention.
It was a group of football players, looking at them, before starting to snicker. Micah rolled his eyes and sighed.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Yeah, yeah, I look like I just shat a rainbow, so very hilarious.”
“More importantly, what are you all doing here? The library wasn't enough for you...
Trent?"
The scene focuses on the guy in the middle as Micah says that last part, a confident grin on his face. Trent took a few steps towards the two, the other boys starting to follow him.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Chill out, Star Boy. We're just gonna be using this room to practice. The coach wants us to have a little team-building exercise or some bullshit. Gotta bond while we can, yeah?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Isn't there… literally anywhere else available? Doesn't seem practical to use a small art studio."
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Well, it also doesn’t seem practical to put your pants in a bucket of paint, but here you are."
The other players snickered at his comment, even doing a few fake laughs. Micah wasn't amused.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "We don't make the rules. You either leave or paint isn't the only thing getting showed up your ass."
The room went quiet...
Zack: "//Pfft-//"
Trent rolled his eyes, though he too let out a bit of a chuckle from that.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Oh please, I meant the football! As if I'd even consider //that// with these fags."
Micah raised an eyebrow.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "You're //still// the one who chooses to look down on others."
He smirked, "Your whole self-esteem relies on an illusion of just how superior you are, huh?"
Trent's eyebrows furrowed. The guy clearly loved being cocky around the people he deemed weaker than him. But Micah was definitely not in the mood for their bullshit.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] “We didn't come here for a therapy session-"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I literally don't care what //you// want, go practice your dumbass football somewhere else. You don't just get to use any room you want in this campus as a DIY field."
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Pfft, try telling that to the coach. That dude doesn't give a single fuck, no one running this place does."
"Cry about it to him, not us. You do not have a choice here."
"Also, maybe you should worry about looking like a clown before you open your mouth. Have some self-awareness."
As they laughed, Micah could feel irritation building up, feeling humiliated, and started raising his voice without realizing.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Don't pretend like you aren't using these things as an excuse to act like asshole, I //know// what you're-!"
Micah didn't finish his sentence, as the sound of a zipper caught his attention from behind.
He looked over to see Sam, who had been dead quiet so far, packing his stuff all with a blank expression. Mike also figured that was for the better rather than arguing with a brick wall of stupidity. However, Sam had… a strange look of anger, which Mike would never expect. His body was stiff and he tightly gripped his items as he packed them all, before he got up.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Whatever. We can hang out anywhere else. C'mon, Mike."
He said, his voice monotone as he took Mike's wrist and headed out with him. Again, Mike wasn’t expecting Sam to initiate such a thing. But he couldn’t question him right now.
Just as Sam and Mike walked past the group, Sam bumped into Trent… Canvas-first. Trent's eyes widened as they collided, the not yet dry paint splattering Trent’s clothes with color.
The other guys in the group all held back laughter, while Trent was shocked. Even Micah had to press his lips firmly together to keep himself from snickering out loud.
Sam looked up at Trent, a neutral yet cold look in his eyes as he stared right into Trent’s.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oops... Sorry about that…”
“Looks like Mike isn’t the only one who’ll need some new clothes.”
Sam apologized, but in a way that was not at all sincere, before he proceeded to walk out of the studio with Mike, who was in utter disbelief as he let himself be dragged away. Trent sputtered for a moment, his face quickly going red with anger.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] “You LITTLE SHIT!”
He began to step forward, but one of his friends laid a hand on his shoulder and tugged on it.
Cody: "Calm down, Trent-"
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "No! Get your hand off of me, I-"
Cody: "//I said calm down.//”
Micah glanced back over his shoulder, eyes darting from the angry football boys, and then back to Sam. Trent looked like he was at war with himself at that point, and he begrudgingly calmed himself down.
What… on earth had gotten into Sam?
Was this really Sam? The same Sam that he knew as his anxious, stuttering, reserved friend, that usually kept all his negative emotions about others to himself? Okay, to be honest, Micah wasn't too surprised. He figured something like this might happen at some point. Just not now. Still, it was very surprising.
Once they got out of the art studio and the door closed behind them, Mike had to speak up, looking at Sam with an awed expression.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "… What the hell was that back there?”
Sam didn't respond, and they simply walked the halls without exchanging a word. Micah was confused. Sam looked down at the canvas, some of the paint now smudged. And eventually, he spoke up after giving a hum.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “Now I gotta paint over.”
(text-colour:#f06595)[*<h6>[[Day 1, part 2]]</h6>*](text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Are you still hiding that cat in your dorm?”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Of course I am. What else was I supposed to do, throw her back on the streets?”
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Okay, I guess that may have been a dumb way to phrase it.)
“No, more like… giving her away to someone who actually is allowed to take care of her?”
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Well, I can’t trust some random person to take her in.”
(...)
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “... You’re just looking for an excuse to keep her, aren’t you?”
Micah paused, his smile upside down. He turned his head away, crossing his arms and pouting a bit.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] “Well, you can’t blame me…”
They stayed in silence for a moment, before Sam spoke up while turning back to the canvas.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] “I suppose not.”
(...I think that only made things //more// awkward... What now?)
(Uhh... Quick, think of another topic!)
Sam then raised both eyebrows as he recalled something Micah said earlier.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[["How are you?"]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[["Wait, what were you saying earlier?"]]*]The walk to Micah's dorm was awkwardly silent, while Micah was trying to figure out what to say to break that silence. And once they were standing in front of its door, Micah said,
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "So, uhh..."
"Y'know, I'm kinda... Umm..."
"Well, thank you for that. Earlier."
"Seriously, I become rather glad when you act more bold. I wouldn't wanna see you get pushed around."
"Are you okay though?"
Sam lifted his head up from looking at the ground, seeming slightly surprised for a moment.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh. Uhh, yeah. I just..."
"I got a bit mad. Seeing them act like that towards you. That's all."
Micah raised his eyebrows.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "You were standing up for me?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I..."
"I guess that's what I did, huh?"
Micah paused. At situations like these, Micah would usually stand up for Sam, not the other way around. And it seemed like Sam was getting a bit more confident in himself. He was quite happy about that, actually.
... He smiled.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Thank you."
He pat him on the back, "Keep it up, eh? I'm proud of you."
Sam's eyes shined at that, filled with a sense of joy that also made him quite nervous.
Although anxiously, he smiled back.
Micah turned the knob and opened the door, flicking the lightswitch to turn on the lights as well. They stepped inside.
Micah's room was pretty simple but nice. A messy bed, a gaming setup, posters, etc. And Micah immediately walked up to the closet, which was left slightly open.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Crunch!"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "'Crunch'?"
Micah opened the closet, and the only thing there wasn't just his clothes. But also a black kitty, sleeping inside. And when the closet opened, it woke up, yawned, and stretched its little paws out.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Oh no, it's cute.)
"Why am I not surprised that that's what you named her?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Look, I was getting back from work and was hungry as fuck."
Micah chuckled. "Crunch" walked up to him, and he crouched down to scratch her head.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Hey, buddy!"
He said with a high voice. Crunch meowed, happily leaning into the pets.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] :D "Awwwwwww-eeeughhhh..." :/
"I can't take it anymore, I gotta change out of these pants. Uhh, make yourself comfortable as always!"
As he said that, Micah got up, entering the closet and closing the door behind him. Sam and Crunch were left by themselves.
And the two just.
Stare at each other.
After a bit, Sam sat down, and slowly, he reached his hand out to gently pet the kitty.
Before he even touched it, Crunch rubbed her head against Sam's hand, making happy little purrs. Sam almost felt his heart physically melt.
He couldn't help but almost let out a soft chuckle, petting her head. Crunch made an adorable trill. Sam smiled wide, although shaky, and he tensed up for a moment as he was tempted to squeeze the little thing.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "*Sigh...* Yeah. Mike was right. I really can't blame him..."
"Even if it doesn't make him any more right."
The door then opened and Micah came back in.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "You see my point? Look at her!"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I know, I know. But she comes with responsibilities, y'know? //Even more of them.//"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh, it's nothing I can't handle! Cats are pretty low maintanance. Randy doesn't mind me keeping her either."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "What if you get caught?"
Micah shrugged.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "''Mike.''"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "It'll be fine, Sam! C'mon, trust me a little."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Well, I'm not the one who'll get in trouble if that happens."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Eh, what's the worst that could happen? All worth it!"
"... Well, while we're here,"
Micah sat down on his bed, crossing his legs.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Randy's not gonna be here the whole day. So we could just chill here by ourselves."
"Whaddaya wanna do?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "We can?"
"Then umm..."
"I'm... not sure."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Make yourself at home while we figure it out then!"
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*](text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Posters]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Clock]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Desk]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Kitchenette]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Crunch]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Left bed]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Nightstand]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Right bed]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Micah]]*]* Posters of indie musicians, video games, shows, etc.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Have you listened to Dexter Darling yet?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "A bit. It's better than I thought it would be, honestly."
"I guess some of its fans had kept me away a bit."
Micah grinned.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I know, right?"
"I know some peoplecan be obnoxious about their recommendations, but letting that keep yourself away from it is letting yourself miss an opportunity."
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]* It's one of those cat clocks with the eyes rocking back and forth.
* It's 6 PM.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I'm still wondering why you named this thing 'David the Clock.'"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I do too."
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]Crunch meowed
* You can't pet the dog. But you can pet the kitty.
* Will you pet the kitty?
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Pet the kitty]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*](text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh wait! I //just// remembered something!"
"So, I found this cool little movie a couple of days ago. We could watch it together with some snacks if you want!"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "You're not luring me with a good time only to pull out the most horrendous stuff, are you?"
"Like that time you convinced me to watch that movie with the black and white clown."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Whaaat? Pssh, nooooo, of course not!"
"... No, seriously, I'm not gonna do that. This movie legit seems pretty neat. It //is// horror, though."
"So, what do you say?"
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Watch it]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]* Besides the computer, there are a bunch of papers and books on the desk. Assignments, small notes for reminders, notebooks, textbooks, etc. The monitor's closed but the computer's running.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I really need to tidy all that up..."
"Wait, did I forget the computer on again?"
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]* A small kitchenette.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Want a snack?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I'm good. I think."
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]Sam crouched down to pet the kitty.
* You pet the kitty.
* Crunch seems happy.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Look! She likes you already!"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..." He smiled.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]* Micah's bed. It's messy, as expected and always.
* There are different boxes underneath, along with an electric guitar.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I don't get to play this thing very often. Once got a complaint for the noise."
"Never again."
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*]* Randy's bed.
* I should probably just ignore his stuff.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*](text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Well, I don't really mind anyway as long as it's with Micah.)
"Alright then. Let's watch it."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Neato!"
Micah got up, grabbing another chair to place next to the one in front of his desk.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Take a seat. Changed your mind on the snacks yet? Or were you really not refusing just to be polite?"
Sam sat down, while Micah walked over to the kitchenette.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I mean, we're watching a movie, so I guess I would like to eat something."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Sweet. How about chips? Cola?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Just choose whatever you wish."
Micah took out some cola from the fridge, pouring it into a pair of glasses, and also prepared a bowl of chips to share. He sat next to Sam.
And they started watching the movie.
Probably through some piracy site.
With that, the scene cuts to said movie.
On screen, a group of panicked survivors scrambled through an abandoned hospital. Suddenly, the voice of one of the film's antagonists, Dr. Harrington, rang out, deep and smug with condescension.
Dr. Harrington: "You can run, but you can't hide! This place is my masterpiece. Every hallway, every trap door... it’s my symphony of terror!"
One of the survivors, a scrappy-looking guy in a torn flannel shirt, muttered, //"Oh my god, this dude really thinks he’s Batman."//
The camera cut to Dr. Harrington, twirling a scalpel like it was a pen at a desk job. Without warning, he threw the scalpel across the room, striking one of his own henchmen square in the shoulder.
Henchman: "WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!"
Dr. Harrington: "You were standing in my light."
He said, deadpan.
The camera lingered on the henchman’s face as he stared at Dr. Harrington, mouthing, “What the fuck…” before collapsing onto the ground.
As the survivors screamed and darted into the next hallway, Dr. Harrington just stood there and sighed.
Dr. Harrington: "And this is why I work alone."
The chase scene resumed, and yet the room Micah and Samuel sat in was still filled with Micah’s chuckles.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yep. He's definitely my favorite.."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Uhh, yeah... Because everyone else in this film are dumb fucks."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Look, I didn't know it was gonna be bad this time! I've been going in completely blind with you."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Well, at least it's not unenjoyable."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Like in a 'so bad it's good' way?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Mhm. I kinda like i-"
Their eyes suddenly go wide as a crashing sound comes out of the speakers.
...
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "They just killed off the only likable character..."
Micah frowned with sadness. Sam pat him on the back.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Hey..."
"at least the others will die in the end too. That's usually what happens in films like these."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Not fast enough."
Micah said, deadpan.
The more time passed however, the more Sam couldn't deny something any longer.
He hugged his arms and curled up on his seat.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (It's so cooold...)
(I should've worn a jacket. I don't know how much longer I can silently tolerate this.)
(Should I... tell him?)
(What would he even do about it?)
(...)
(I should probably tell him.)
...
* And I proceeded to not tell him.
...
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Man, it's cold."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Oh thank god.)
"Yeah, I'm freezing."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Hold on, lemme grab a blanket."
Micah got up to walk over to his bed to grab it.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "//A// blanket?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yeah, I've only got one. Don't wanna share?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh. Uhh, no, I-I don't mind at all."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Sweet."
Micah sat back down with the blanket, wrapping it around himself and Sam, which brought them to lean right against each other. Sam's pale face went a teeny bit red.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "You comfortable?"
Micah asked, a relaxed smile on his face.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Mhm..."
It was comfortable for sure. Cozy... and warm...
Sam wished he could be closer to Mike more often. Like this.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "... Hey."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Hm?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "No homo."
Sam almost chuckled, and rolled his eyes.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Yeah, no homo."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Eheh... But really, I'm tired of people poking at this just because we're close."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "It's not even their business..."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Right!? O-OH SHIT WHAT??"
Micah yells as another shocking scene plays out in the movie, catching their attention.
The more the movie went on and the warmer they got together, Sam started to feel a bit sleepy, losing focus. The fuzzy blanket, Micah's body against his, it made his eyelids get heavy. The movie was almost over at this point anyway. Not that he cared much for it. Not much compared to what was happening in real life right now.
It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, and they kept closing more and more and more...
"Mike?"
The two immediately pull away from each other as they heard someone else, though it takes a good second as the blanket force them together before they unwrap from it and throw it away. They looked over to whoever spoke with wide eyes, Micah grinning awkwardly while he paused the credits that began rolling.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Randy!! You're... back early."
It was indeed him. Micah's roommate, Randy Thorne, standing in front of the open door with one eyebrow raised. Micah hadn't even heard the lock open.
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "...???"
"Uhh, yeah..."
"By the way, you forgot to lock the door."
Oh. That's why.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Ah. My-my bad."
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "... Dude. How many times are you gonna do this?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I mean, it's not like someone's gonna try to rob a college dorm. There's nothing to steal here other than depression. Which I would actually be //happy// if were to be taken away."
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Still, try to lose that habit. Please."
He turns his head over to Sam.
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "O-oh. Hi to you too, Sam."
Sam's brain went blank and he suddenly didn't know how to act. He awkwardly gave a little wave, not looking at Randy's face. Though, for the moment he did look, he noticed something on his face. He didn't comment however, not like he could. But he did try to respond, if not for his voice coming out way too quiet.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "//Sorry for the...//"
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Anyways, what's that you two are watching?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Just another Sinnystone disaster. We just got done watching it. Quite the shitshow."
"10/10, loved the ending, would recommend."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Everyone //died// in the ending.)
Micah got up from his seat, walking over to Randy. That's when he too noticed the thing on Randy's face.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Wait, what's that? A bruise?"
Randy sighed.
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Clyde got his ass in some trouble again. That reckless idiot..."
"Remember when he got in a fight when he was piss-drunk at a party? Well, I guess the guy he fought definitely did not forget nor forgive. Even though I thought the alcohol would've forced him to. I guess that's just how the guy acts normally. I don't think he was even from Elysian."
"So while we were hanging out, that guy got on our asses with like //4// other people. I'm surprised we didn't get beat to the pulp."
"Can't lie, I was at slight awe but also a bit concerned seeing Clyde manically and brutally bashed their heads with some glass bottles and hard stuff he happened find in the trash."
...
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "He washed his hands afterwards right??"
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "He did, I made sure."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh, good."
"So, were things okay?"
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Clyde got a few minor injuries but he's fine. You don't even need to ask me."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "No, I meant the guys."
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Oh."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Look, if you tell me that Clyde *didn't* send them to the hospital, I will *heavily* doubt your word on that unless you intervened."
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Right..."
"I mean... Yeah, they were bleeding a bit, especially from the glass. But they'll be fine I'm sure."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Man, why is it always the days I pass on hanging out that are the most interesting? Spare me some of the action, I would've loved to see it!"
Micah's speech slowly fades at that last sentence, but I didn't show it visually becase I didn't wanna deal with that again, but anyways, the scene shifts to focus on Sam, silently observing them as he loses focus of the topic spoken.
Micah's laughter. It was a sight he loved to see. But now, the warmth was gone. Just their blurry faces. It felt oddly cold. It was quiet, besides the muffled sounds of their banter.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (They're at it again...)
Sam thought, before he looked down and saw that *himself* get blurry. And when he looked back up, the two friends instead were the ones on focus. They seemed full of life, but *he* suddenly felt so empty. He turned his head to the black monitor, his reflection staring back with a hollow look, distorted in his vision. His presence was blending in with the background. He looked back down, while, for a moment, all that happened was the view zooming out.
He clenched his hands into fists, shaking... But they suddenly loosened. And he took a deep breath. Micah and Randy's chatter faded back in.
He got up.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I think I should... get going now."
Their attention was turned to him, Randy seeming indifferent while Micah gave a more curious look.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh, right. Want me to accompany you back?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..."
Sam's expression seemed as if it lit up slightly at that. The offer made him feel a bit better. Still, he may need some time of his own now. He was a little drained.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I'm good... Thank... you."
"You two have fun."
He walked between and past them, heading over to the door. Micah was a little weirded out.
As Sam grabbed the knob, he said,
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Hey... Randy."
Randy raised an eyebrow.
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Uhh. Yeah?"
Sam turned his head back towards him, staring with a hollow look in his eye.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... You forgot to lock the door."
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "A."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "HA! Hypocrite!"
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "I only forgot because you distracted me!"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Still a hypocrite."
(text-colour:grey)[Randy:] "Oh, shut up, I'm not the one who makes this same simple mistake over and over."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Says the guy who kept dying to the same stupid atta-"
Micah didn't finish his sentence as the door closed shut, grabbing their attention.
Micah was left staring blankly. The room being suddenly so silent felt eerie. Meanwhile Randy had an expression that said //"What's up with that guy?"//
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Bye, Sam..."
With a creak, the door opened and Sam stepped inside. Someone already inside looked over, someone with long brunette curls and eyes that were a bright, attention-catching red. They smiled.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[???:] "Oh, hey Sam!"
Sam lifted the direction of his look up from the floor and up to them.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh. Hey... Salem."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "You were with Micah again?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Mhm."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Uh-huh..."
"For someone who just spent time with their favorite person, you don't look too great."
Sam glanced at a nearby mirror, looking at his reflection. His eyes were droopy and the dark circles under it were especially prominent.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I'm... It's nothing, actually. I'm just a little tired."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "..."
"Well, if you say so. I'm gonna go to bed. Don't start mumbling to yourself in the middle of the night again, alright?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "You *heard* that??"
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "I hear more than you think."
They said, grinning, before sitting down on their bed.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Good night!"
The blanket was thrown up as they plopped down with their back facing Sam, the blanket landing on top of them. Sam was left uneasy and rather embarrassed.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Good night..."
He muttered.
The scene cuts to black, continued by a quiet scene of Sam just having been done putting on a pajama shirt. Then leaving the dorm's closet.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (I should sleep soon too.)
(But first, my journal.)
The player's now allowed free movement in the room.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-2]]*]* Just a night lamp. And a pile of tissues.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh, umm. Forgot to throw those in the trash."
"Sorry man, I should really clean up before inviting someone over!"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Were you crying again?"
Micah looked comically guilty, a bead of sweat running down as he looked away.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "..."
"Maybe."
Sam's expression remained as that blank look.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... You can spend time with me whenever you're down, you know."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Nah, it was 2 AM."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh... Yeah, I was asleep by that time."
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-1]]*](text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Sam's desk]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Salem's desk]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Drawers 1]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Bed 1]]*]* My desk. Yeah, mine's a bit messy too.
* A bunch of art supplies and stationary. Some of my drawings are just kinda lying around.
* Oh. Looks like I left my journal here.
* Open journal?
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Write in journal 1]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-2]]*]* Salem's desk. There's a few sketches of designs for clothing lying around.
*I'd rather not mess with their stuff.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-2]]*]Upon choosing to open the journal, a menu pops up with the appearance of a notebook. It starts from the first page and you can flip through. You can read prior entries, which contain little doodles.
**January 2nd, 2016**
*Well, since we're starting a new year, I thought that maybe I could try this. One of my former therapists recommended journaling to me once, and I was interested, but refused since I was very much worried about what would happen if my parents found out. I doubt that they would've ****not**** read it. But I don't have to worry about that anymore, so I figured "why not?"*
*Speaking of, mom was yelling at me over the phone today. I couldn't respond in any way since I don't handle that too well, not to mention that I was embarrassed since Mike was ****right there**** with me. I don't remember what it was about, my brain was complete white noise. Not that it's usually anything important anyway, I could breathe too much air and she'd be mad at me for it, there is no way to please her. I just hung up and completely closed my phone out of panic.*
*Mike invited me for stargazing though. We chatted and had snacks, but he was quite dissappointed when it started raining and we had to go back without even getting to see the stars.*
*Still, he seemed happy. So I'm happy too.*
**January 5th, 2016**
*I just realized that my sketchbook mostly consists of doodles of Mike. I usually just drawn him when I have no ideas. I just hope he doesn't find out. That'd be a bit awkward.*
*Thankfully, he didn't ask me to see the rest of my sketchbook when we were drawing on it together today. He made a drawing of us sitting on a crescent moon, colored out of lines with pencils. It didn't look too good on a skill point of view, but that's expected, and I still liked it. Quite a bit. He then went on to hang out with Randy and Clyde after though.*
*I kept opening my sketchbook to see that drawing again and again for the rest of the day.*
Upon turning the page, a new entry is written.
**January 8th, 2016**
*I had a nightmare last night. I don't remember much but my head was splitting open. Literally. I was scared in the dream, but... somewhat happy too? For some reason?? It left me feeling weird.*
*I woke up at 5 AM and couldn't go back to sleep, so I just waited for my classes. Wasn't feeling well afterwards either. I couldn't focus, and I was on edge for no reason until Mike came to talk with me. I still don't know how he sat on that puddle of paint without noticing it. I had spilled it near the end of class since I was so unfocused on my surroundings. The professor wasn't even really mad at all about that, actually. He let it stay like that in fact.*
*Then some jock guys entered in for... football practice?? In an art studio??? That's even stupider than I initially thought. But then he started to try and humiliate Mike in front of his friends. I may have overreacted a little, but it made my blood boil. And, well, I ended up "accidentally" stanining his shirt with paint.*
*Mike said he was proud of me for standing up for him... It made me all giddy thinking about it.*
*We hung out at his dorm and watched some movie. I don't think we had ever been so physically close before. We were practically cuddling... Too bad Randy had to ruin the moment.*
*I feel like I blend in with the background whenever they start chatting. I wonder if he likes spending time with them more than he does with me.*
~~*Regardless, I left and now*~~
*Wait a minute.*
*I just realized, I forgot that painting I did today at Mike and Randy's dorm. And my supplies*
*Crap.*
You close the menu after reading.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "*Sigh.*"
(Oh well, I guess I'll ask Mike for it tomorrow.)
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-2]]*]* Some drawers. I keep my books, my wools, usually my art supplies, miscellaneous stuff... a few knives... in here.
* I wish I could get more plushies. But at least I can crochet them.
* ... Oh. There's... my box, too.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Explore 1-2]]*]Sam lied down on his bed, getting under the blanket next to an old-looking rabbit plush and curling up there. He's not *shown* lying down though, instead it fades to black.
* ... Even if our time was interrupted...
* I feel... happy.
There's a second of silence, before thumping is heard, as Sam is excitedly kicking his feet against the matress.
* Ehehe...
* Ehehehehehe...!
It fades back into view, the view of Sam smiling, shakily yet wide, his cheeks red and with hearts in his eyes, while Salem's sleeping on the back, seemingly unaware.
* Even after a year, it still feels so unreal to be cared for like this...
* How can someone be so... perfect?
* But... every second with him feels too short...
* I wish I could just... keep him. With me. *Always.*
* And I would never let him go...
* Ehehehehehehe...!
With that, the screen fades back to black.
Day 1 over.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Day 2]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Heartsick]]*]All playable days:
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Day 1]]*]
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Day 2]]*]<h1>''(text-colour:#e64980)[January 12th, 2016, Monday]''</h1>
An alarm goes off and Sam shifts awake.
Half-asleep, he reached his hand out to turn it off but fails to press the button on his phone, until someone else presses it instead.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Wakey wakey..."
Salem was looking down at him, looking very tired himself but fully dressed.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Good morning. Ready to go through everything all over again for the way-too-much-to-count time?"
Sam slowy sat up, eyes squinted.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "How come you always wake up before me without an alarm?"
Salem yawned.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "As much as I hate it, my body automatically wakes up early at this point. And if I don't wake up, your alarm will wake me up anyway."
Salem put on their yellow cardigan while heading out of the door.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "I'll see you later."
The door closed. And Sam got out of his bed.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Just gotta get through until friday.)
The player also gets to roam around here and stuff, but we've already been through that so im not scripting all the same stuff again.
After getting ready, Sam leaves the dorm as well, walking through the halls and past various other students. Again, I'm not scripting this here.
Eventually, Sam enters art class. During it, he takes out his paints and comes across the disappointing realization that there's little left of them. Enough to work on what he's doing now, but will run out. He sighed.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (I need some new paint.)
"*Why do art supplies have to be so pricey?*"
He whispered to himself.
???: "What was that?"
Sam was a little startled, and looked over at whoever spoke. It was his professor, Diego Simons, with a relaxed smile.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Nothing..."
The professor gave a soft chuckle.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "I can recommend a more cheap but pretty good brand if you want."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Really?"
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Yeah, Charleston. They sell them at the local store. It was pretty useful to me back in the day."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Charleston?"
(That's... certainly a brand name.)
"... Thank you, Mr. Simons."
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Hey, I've told you many times already. You can just call me Diego."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "It... feels too casual."
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Hm. Yeah, that's fair."
"Just call me whatever you'd like then."
Professor Simons pat him on the back.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Alright, back to work."
He walked over to his desk, speaking to all of the students as the lesson continued.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[After class]]*]Sam is at the store, looking at the section where creative supplies are. He finds the brand and its oil paints, taking a look at the prices.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Okay, one tube is... 8 bucks...)
(... So I could just get some primary colors and black and white... Maybe brown too. And I can get other colors by mixing.)
(1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... Multiply by 8...)
(*48 bucks.*)
(...)
(I mean... that *is* cheaper than the usual.)
He took out his wallet.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Only 50 dollars.)
Sam's stomach grumbles, which earns another sigh from him.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (But I still haven't eaten today...)
(I could get some ramen with the remaining 2 bucks.)
(And after that...)
(... I need to go to work.)
The scene then changed to one where Sam is tying his hair in a ponytail, wearing a café uniform. He comes out of the closet, microvaves the ramen, and sits down on his bed with the bowl to eat it. Salem enters in, groaning.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "I swear, I'll never get used to early mornings..."
"Hm? Heading to work?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Mhm."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "You have a boring ass job and you're not even paid enough that you're eating cup ramen?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "No, it's just that... Well, I had to get it today because I didn't have much left. Paint isn't cheap and I had ran out."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Does that stuff even fill your stomach?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... It fills it enough."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Huh... No wonder you're so skinny."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (And you aren't?)
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "So, how much are you paid?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Um... *Slightly* above minimum wage."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Wow. *Slightly* above minimum wage, you say?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..."
"Are you making fun of me?"
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Oh, no no!"
"Sorry, I guess I come off as a bit mean sometimes. I swear it's not intentional."
"I meant it more like in a... 'Wow, that sucks and is really unfair' way. Y'know?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Well, I also get a bit of money through commissions. So I'm doing... okay."
Salem plopped down to his chair in front of his desk, the wheels rolling.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "I mean, as long as you're eating at all, I suppose."
Shortly after, Sam left the dorm to head off. Though, as he walked through the dormitory hallways, he noticed that Trent and a couple of his friends were there.
And when Trent saw, he was... glaring at him?
It made Sam a bit uneasy, but he didn't dwell on it too much. Or tried not to.
Sam is walking towards the bus stop near campus. The name "Elysian University" can be seen in big letters near its enterance. There wasn't much else, just the chatter of other students, passing cars, and chirping birds.
Sam lifts his gaze off the ground and notices that Micah is waiting there, checking his phone for the time. He was in the same uniform, his hair tied to a messy bun. Despite the uniform though, you could still see that he wore the necklace under it.
As he put his phone back to his pocket, he noticed Sam back, his bored expression changing to a smile.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh, Sam! Hey dude, what's up?"
Sam couldn't help but briefly smile at the sight.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (Phew... Another shift spent NOT alone.)
"Not much. Other than the fact that my wallet is completely, literally empty."
"And you?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yeah, same. Though, not as literally, I do have a bit of cash left."
"I don't know what I did when I was drunk off my ass yesterday but 85% of my money is gone now and I woke up sober from a knock on my dorm and a package of 3000 grams of catnip."
"But I mean... at least Crunch seems to like it."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Wow, I didn't know you condoned kids to do drugs. She's just a kitten, Mike. Not cool."
Micah laughed.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yeah man, whatever."
"You do have money for the bus though, right?"
Sam froze.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..."
"Uhh..."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "... You //do//, right?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..."
"I completely forgot about that..."
Sam had his head in his hands.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Of course you did."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "What do I do???"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Sam, you seriously need to keep track of these things."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I know... I'm sorry."
"I was just caught up on how I was gonna buy art supplies and food at the same time, I didn't even consider the transportation money."
"The store would've closed by the time we got out of our shift, so I didn't have time to buy the paints *after* my pay, but I also needed to have them by tomorrow morning."
"And ramen was the cheapest thing I could get."
Micah sighed.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Alright, I'll pay for you this time. Okay?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Really...?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I mean yeah, it's just a coin. And I can't let you just be stuck."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... I promise to pay you back."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Nah, it's good. Like I said, it's just a coin."
"But if you do this again, you owe me coffee."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Thank you..."
Sam said as he looked down and fidgeted his hands, trying to express his gratitude, which tended to be a bit difficult for him. Micah smiled, rolling his eyes.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yeah, yeah, it's cool."
The bus then arrived, the doors opening after it stopped in front of the two.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "C'mon."
The two stepped inside and the bus took off.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Day 2 work]]*]You're greeted to work with a tutorial screen, with images showing what the player should do.
*Serve snacks and drinks to as many customers as you can before time runs out*
After closing it, you see Sam putting on his apron and entering out of the back. And the game starts.
Things are going normally as they're supposed to. You serve a couple of customers just fine. Or at least you thought you did...
That's when you notice a customer persistently snapping their fingers, trying to grab your attention.
"Excuse me!"
The customer is a middle-aged woman with short bleached hair. Naturally, you walk over to the customer.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "May I help you?"
Karen (yes, that's her name): "Yes, you can help me by explaining //why// my order is //completely wrong//!"
"For my drink, I specifically asked for *light ice.* Does this look like light ice to you?"
Sam looked down at the the lemonade she had ordered. There was barely any ice in it.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh. I apologize-"
Karen: "No, I'm not done! Not only did you get that wrong, you got my sandwich wrong as well. I asked for a turkey sandwich! This is chicken!"
She didn't. Sam remembers clearly that she ordered chicken.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I believe that's not what you-"
Karen: "Are you calling me a liar!?"
"I know what I ordered and this is not it! This is why I hate coming to places like these, kids nowdays can't do the simplest of things right!"
"And another thing, why is it taking so long to get service around here? I've been snapping my fingers for minutes! Is this how you treat paying customers?"
Sam's throat tightened.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I-I understand that you're upset and I'm really sorry for the inconvenience, I can remake your order right away-"
Karen: "You should've made it right the first time! This is basic customer service that I'm *paying* for! Ugh, this is unbeliavable."
The camera cut to Sam as the woman went on, while he was shaking and sweating, holding his notepad tightly. His ears were ringing and he could feel the eyes of all the other customers on him, watching as if it was some kind of show. It caught Micah's attention too, who looked concerned.
Karen: "What, are you just gonna stand there and be useless now? I want your manager. NOW."
Sam just couldn't respond.
So, someone else did.
"Hey now, no need for such commotion."
The attention was turned to another voice, who walked over to them.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "We understand the frustration, ma'am," he didn't "but could you please let us help you solve it instead of causing trouble for everyone here, including yourself? And, y'know... not harrass our workers."
Karen: "I am NOT-"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "//Ma'am.// I'll get your order remade, no mistakes this time... And we can move on. How about that?"
His voice was smooth and calm, but there was also this sharp look to him that discouraged Karen from cutting him off. He shifted his eyes to Sam, tilting his head over to the staff door. And Sam's mind felt like it suddenly connected back to reality, walking away after he got the sign.
Karen: "Hmph. At least there's someone *actually* decently competent."
The door to the break room opened and Sam let out a sharp exhale as it closed.
His fingers dug at his scalp while he tried to relax. He gritted his teeth, fueled by frustration. He *knew* he got that order right. That hag just wanted to cause him trouble and get angry at nothing. That... that...
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (That... BITCH...!)
Eventually though, he untenses, and his arms drop to his side. And instead of anger, his emotions shift to what they really are. And a tear runs down his face. He covers his eyes. No, he couldn't cry right now...
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Why can't I do anything right...?"
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Evening]]*]The shift was over. The sky was dark. The café had closed. And it was now 8 PM.
Sam and Mike walked out of the door, both looking rather tired.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Finally, it's over."
He stretched his arms out.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Do you, like, wanna get some drinks before we go back? I feel like I'm about to collapse and I could use some refreshing."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Only if it's on me."
That caught Mike's attention, and he couldn't help but softly smile.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Sam, you don't have to pay me back."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "But I want to."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Don't you struggle more with money though?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Just let me feel like I'm not just relying on you for everything."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "..."
"Alright then. Drinks are on you."
It turned to black as a car passed by in front of them.
The click of the metal can opening brought you to the next scene as Micah took a chug of cola, before a sigh.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Ah... That's better."
"Thanks, man."
Sam seemed a bit dissociated, holding a can of peach juice. They were both sitting on a bench in a nearby park that was mostly empty.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Sam?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Hm?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "You okay? That Karen lady was quite the asshole."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Yeah. I already told you I'm okay."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I know. I just wasn't convinced. And, admittedly, I'm still quite not."
"I mean, that woman was pretty much gaslighting you."
"And I know you don't deal quite well with pressure."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "C'mon, it's no big deal. Just a rude customer."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "More like a whiny bitch."
Sam held back a giggle, which Micah took notice of. So he continued his rant.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "And she's far past the age for that."
He narrowed his eyes and started to almost crush the soda can in his hand. Sam started to subtly smile a little as he continued.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I swear, the whole time I was trying to calm her down and convincing her to not speak to our boss to somehow try to get us fired, I was trying my damn hardest to not sucker punch her in the face."
"But I enjoy having income, thank you very much!"
"If only I was actually paid enough to deal with this shi-"
Some of the cola then accidentally spilled out as he accidentally *did* crush it a bit. Both of their eyes went wide as they blankly stared, seeing that it had spilled on Micah's apron.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oops."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Pfft..."
Sam started to softly giggle.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "..."
"Well I be damned."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "You need to be more careful with your clothes."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "I know... Thank god it's just my apron."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "What happened to your pants, by the way?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "There's a stain on my pants??"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "No, I'm talking about the one that turned into a minimalist's nightmare."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] ???
"Oh, the ones that I stained with paint!"
"Yeah I had to throw them away. They couldn't be rescued. No surprise."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh. That's to be expected, yes."
Mike took out a tissue and tried to wipe the stain, before getting the apron off and checking his phone.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "We should probably get going. The newt bus should arrive soon."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Yeah. Right."
After the bus ride, the two were now in the dormitory halls. Most were either out partying or something, or chilling in their dorm by now, so there wasn't a lot of people around. As you walked to the right, Micah stuck to your side and dialogue between the two went on by itself.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Hey."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yeah?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I think you said something about being drunk?"
"How did that even happen?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Uhh..."
"So like."
"You know how our lovely coworkers decided to go out drinking after the last shift?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Yeah?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Well, I may or may not have been peer pressured into it."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Really?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Yeah, I know, but man I was TIRED."
"The kind of tired where I stopped caring."
"Then someone shoved a drink into my hand, and I thought, 'Hey, why not?' And then... well..."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "And then you woke up with 3000 grams of catnip at your door."
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Not only that, but also with the worst hangover of my life."
"Randy had to drag me into going to class and I was very much tempted to skip by going to the bathroom to cry my eyes out until I passed out."
"Crunch was having a field day though. At least her cuteness made me smile a bit."
"But she also started zooming around in the dorm and got super clingy. She was making sad meows as I left and that somehow hurt more than my pounding head."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "What if someone hears her meow?"
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Well..."
"..."
"I don't know."
"But how much is the possibility of that anyway?"
"I told you already Sam, it'll be fine!"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Whatever you say."
Micah then took a stop, looking back.
(text-colour:#845ef7)[Micah:] "Oh wait, we just passed my dorm!"
"I'll see you tomorrow, Sam!"
Micah then walked away as he waved Sam goodbye.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Oh... Bye."
Sam waved back, and the door to the dorm closed afterwards. So he was left to just stand there.
Looking down and fiddling with his sleeves, the corners of his lips curled up into a shaky, yet genuine smile. One that was adoring. He then turned back to his way, but then unexpectedly bumped into something. Or rather, someone.
???: "Ah, so he's your next victim, huh?"
Sam was confused and made a bit anxious by that statement. When he looked up, the person he saw was... Trent.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "What... do you mean...?"
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "And here I was wondering what you were doing with that guy."
"He's just another guy for you to obsess over."
Sam's eyes shot wide, left stunned. He took a small step backward.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "What are you... talking about-"
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Don't pretend like you don't know! I know what you fucking are!"
"Did you think you could just get away and avoid all responsibility? After all the guys you stalked?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "How do you...!?"
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "What? You don't even remember me? C'mon, everyone knew me back in high school!"
"Nah, I should've expected that. The only thing you care about in the real world is whoever you're gonna be a creep over next."
It all then rushed back to Sam, hitting him like a slap in the face.
He took another step back, gripping the arms of his sleeves.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "I don't... know what you're talking about..."
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Pfft. Hey now, I thought you'd at least have a better lie than *that.* I have your little secret. What's *Mikey* gonna think once he founds out?"
Sam was at a loss for words, a bead of sweat running down his face... This couldn't be happening now. Not now, not ever anymore.
But despite the sense of fear crawling up his skin, he managed to utter out a response.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "...*You can't prove anything...*"
Trent gritted his teeth.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "You're damn right, you little shit."
"I'm not as stupid as you think, y'know. I know that guy wouldn't believe me over his little boyfriend."
He poked at Sam in the chest.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "But I refuse to walk around in the same place as a creep pretending like nothing happened. Just living your life happily ever after."
"And I'll make sure you get what's coming to you."
???: "That's enough, Carver."
Both of them looked over to see Professor Simons interrupting them.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "You're an adult now, young man. You can't bully other students like you're still in high school."
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "I wasn't!"
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Right, right, of course you weren't- *Now leave.*"
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "But-"
The professor sternly raised his voice.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "I said *now.* Before this gets more complicated than it needs to be."
Trent curled his hand into a shaking fist in frustration.
(text-colour:#e03131)[Trent:] "Tch..."
He then walked off.
Simons turned his attention back to Sam, and his unsusually upset expression softens as he saw the visible anxiety.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "You alright there?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "..."
"... Y...yes... Thank you."
The professor gave a warm smile.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Anytime."
"Is this something that happens regularly?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "N-no, no, this is... a-an exception."
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Good. You can come to me anytime if this goes on, alright?"
Sam didn't respond.
...
Simons walked past him, going on with his day.
(text-colour:#74c0fc)[Professor:] "Have a good night, Samuel."
Even after he left, Sam was left stunned. His eyes were wide and fixed on the floor, his hands shaking. And the screen suddenly cut to black.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Dorm]]*]A new entry was written on the journal, but a bit more crudely as if in a haste.
***January 12, 2016***
*I can't believe I forgot this. How did I let myself not notice? When did he learn this? How? I made sure, every time, that I wasn't seen. I had been so careful.*
*This was my worst nightmare, and it had to show up* ***now?***
*It's all his fault. He's gonna ruin everything. He's gonna ruin everything. He's gonna tell everyone.*
*And it's all gonna reach Mike.*
*I don't want Mike to know. I don't want him to know. I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know I don't want him to know.*
The text became more cruder and unreadable as it went, until it got to the end. There were a few teardrops on the page.
*I don't want him to leave me.*
You close the journal.
Sam wiped his tears, not wanting to let Salem notice, before he got up. And after he had changed, he went straight to bed.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Bed 2]]*]*"What do I do?"*
*"What should I do?"*
*"I need to stop him.*"
*"This can't happen."*
*"How do I stop him!?"*
A million thoughts went through Sam's head like overlapping whispers, his fingers gripping his desk and his nails almost scratching its surface. But one, brief one stood out, and was whispered out loud.
"*I need to get rid of him.*"
The door then unlocked, and a voice called out.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Sam?"
Sam looked over, seeing Salem's curious look. The intense look in his eyes softened and his body untensed.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Welcome back."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Umm."
"You okay?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Yeah. I'm alright."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "...Hm."
Salem walked over to the closet, taking off her cardigan.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Well, how's your day been?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "It was... okay."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Neat."
Salem went in, and somehow immediately came out with some more casual and comfortable clothes, stretching his arms out.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Okay but seriously, you look like you've seen a ghost."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Just... ran into someone from high school."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Ah. Yeah, that sounds like something out of my nightmares."
"Who was it? An ex or somethin'?"
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "Eugh, no way..."
Salem chuckled.
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Yeah, you don't seem like the type who dated in high school."
"Regardless, if they're being a pain, you can tell me. I can be quite... persuasive."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "You're just looking for more drama, aren't you?"
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Oh, so what? Sue me."
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] "... Thanks, but I'd rather you not be involved."
(text-colour:#ffcf5e)[Salem:] "Hm. Bummer, but alright."
Salem sat down on their bed and grabbed their phone, comfortably leaning against their pillow as they scrolled.
Sam turned back to his desk, staring anxiously into nothingness before the scene faded again.
(text-colour:#f06595)[*[[Write in journal 2-2]]*]Lying down, Sam curled up, tightly hugging Bunny. He was really tired because of work, but he was also left with so much uncertainty that made him uneasy about tomorrow.
That's until he came into a realization.
(text-colour:#ae3ec9)[Samuel:] (... Trent relies on his reputation.)
(He has no proof, so that's the only thing he can use.)
(It's the only thing he really has anyway.)
(...)
(... Maybe...)
(I'm not the one who'll be done for.)
Day 2 over.