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Four days after his father had given him a black eye, Parrot found his body hanging from the ceiling.
It must have been recent, because his father completely disappeared from the apartment for the past four days, a routine Parrot had gotten used to: pretend everything is fine until an eventual breakdown, beat on your kid until your senses come back, and then avoid him for a week out of guilt before returning.
The difference was that Parrot was expecting to open the door to find him on his knees, as he would always do, sobbing and begging for his forgiveness.
But killing himself? That was way too cowardly, wasn't it?
Parrot dropped his bags and circled the body. It was still swinging in the air, and when he reached to grab its hand, it wasn't warm, but not exactly freezing either. For a strange moment, Parrot was almost expecting him to jolt back to life, kick him in the chest, and run away.
But the body swayed at the lightest of touches, and it was clear he wasn't coming back.
Parrot's eyes roved up and down the body, and he noticed something else that made him pause.
Across his arms were bruises. Of all sizes and shapes, a strange mix of purple, yellow, and red, blending in a way that made his veins pop. When Parrot looked closer at his neck, chafed raw, there were faint scratch marks erratically placed up and down his throat.
Parrot inspected them for a very long time. And then, he headed for his bags to pull out a white box, placing it on the table and opening the lid.
It was normal for people to regret suicide right when there was no turning back. Maybe his father, right when kicking the chair, had thought better of throwing away his life. That would explain the scratches—once a coward, always a coward.
Parrot grabbed a lighter, igniting the wax.
He didn't know how to explain the bruises, though. But there wasn't much to go off of—nobody knew him, besides his isolated family half across the continent. And his mother was all bark and no bite, so the only answer was intention.
Parrot placed the cake on the table, his father hanging out of the corner of his eye.
"Happy birthday," he said to his empty apartment. "Thank you for the gift, I guess."
"You're a bit of a thug, aren't you?"
The comment had Parrot rolling his eyes.
"What the hell are you talking about, Planet?"
Planet shoved him from his seat—well. It wasn't actually his, but the teacher was too old to realize that her seating chart had completely collapsed since Friday. Even now, she had her back to the class, mumbling something nonsensical as she wrote another instruction on the board with illegible handwriting.
"All these bruises and stuff," Planet said, lifting his arm to run a finger down it. "You live alone, right? Who the hell are you scuffling with? Spoke?"
Parrot swatted him away. "No, Spoke and I are good now, bro. Leo said he didn't care who I talked to—he just wouldn't be caught dead in the same room as him."
He didn't correct Planet on the mistake, because it wasn't really a mistake, now. His father wasn't living; he was a mutilated corpse stuffed into his freezer. So Parrot did live alone, now.
"Then who?"
Parrot grimaced and kept his eyes trained to the floor.
"…That's—"
The teacher suddenly cleared her throat, and the classroom went silent.
"Now I know it's only the second week," she started, voice high and kind. "But it appears we do have another student to welcome. Please treat him well, now."
A boy, Parrot realized, had been standing next to her the entire time.
The teacher smiled. "Introduce yourself, deary, now, would you?"
He had a bored look on his face, sweeping his violet eyes across the room.
"Wifies," he introduced, bowing slightly. "Please take care of me."
It was a soft, monotone voice. From that, it became obvious how Parrot hadn't noticed him sooner; he blended in quite effectively, posture relaxed and appearance unassuming. Everything about him screamed—well, more like whispered—that he wasn't asking for even the slightest attention.
The classroom was completely silent as they stared. Someone coughed in the back.
Parrot turned to Planet, and immediately whipped his head back around before he could burst out laughing.
"Yeah!" Planet exclaimed, startling his classmates nearby. "Whoop! New student! So glad to have you, Wifies!"
He stood, clapping with way too much force than necessary, and Parrot snorted into his palm as the class echoed his claps, scattered and hesitant.
"Sit the fuck down," Parrot hissed, fighting not to return the grin that Planet sent.
When the class returned to their usual level of chatter, Parrot watched as Wifies walked down the aisle. He passed every empty seat, even the ones that weren't covered by people placing their hands down, and his steps seemed intentional, like he wasn't going to bother in the first place.
"Delinquent?" Planet asked, staring not so conspicuously. "Sitting all the way in the back."
Parrot shrugged. It wasn't as if they didn't already have those. Besides, it was the fact that Wifies barely offered anyone a glance, and Parrot felt a pang of second-hand embarrassment when he ignored the classmates who waved, too.
But Wifies didn't sit in the back.
He passed Parrot. He paused.
And then he took the seat right next to him.
Parrot watched, speechless, as Wifies turned to stare at him. Parrot thought he was going to say something, but he didn't.
What the hell?
"Um," Planet whispered, leaning closer into Parrot's space. "Do you know him or something?"
No, Parrot wanted to answer. But he also wanted to launch Planet across the room, a stronger urge, and curse him for his situational awareness. Even if he whispered, obviously Wifies could fucking hear him. This idiot.
Wifies gave him a small smile, then. He lifted a steady hand.
"Nice to meet you," he said, unblinking.
Parrot squinted, staring at the hand. He took it, and couldn't help but notice the coldness of it, as if a corpse had just offered its greetings.
A corpse.
"Sure," said Parrot, very slowly.
Wifies withdrew his hand, staring for a second longer. For a moment, Parrot was afraid that his unease wasn't as filtered as he thought it was.
But Wifies dropped his head to the desk, settling into his arms.
Parrot's mind lagged. He turned to look at Planet. What?
His confusion was as clear as day on his face.
So you also don't know what the fuck just happened, Parrot communicated with his eyes.
Planet winced, shaking his head. Freak! This guy's a freak!
The teacher began to speak again before Parrot had a chance to whack Planet on the head, and the topic vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
Parrot found it surprisingly easy to push Wifies' presence to the back of his brain, next to the abstract ideas and background classmates he had no point in bringing to the forefront.
And for the entire class period, Wifies did not lift his head once.
The bathrooms always smelled like a witch's brew of vomit, piss, shit, and sex.
It was why Parrot always hesitated before choosing it as his spot to skip class. You were guaranteed to get away with it, but he wasn't scared of the teachers and their petty punishments; no—he was scared of opening a stall to find two of his classmates fucking.
That day, it was empty. Which was less of a miracle and more of a calculated decision; his history class was across the school from this bathroom, hidden right under the stairs looking like an inconspicuous janitor's closet.
He lit a cigarette, sliding down the toilet seat to prop his legs against the stall door. Relief relaxed his every muscle as his eyes drifted shut.
Fucking finally. It was bad enough he had to act like a teacher's pet simply because he was smart, but he hadn't had time to himself for the entire week, cooped up in there helping grade papers.
Unless that teacher was a fucking pedophile, Parrot couldn't understand why he had to suffer. Derap was right there.
But he didn't have to, right now. He wasn't being nagged by anyone but his own thoughts. Whether it was a curse or a blessing, Parrot had discovered long ago that he wouldn't know until he confronted them.
Parrot lifted the pack to eye the logo.
This was his second-to-last one. Before, it wasn't a big issue to spend so much money on cigarettes, because his father always bribed him for his forgiveness with hundreds of dollars.
But that was limited now. While Parrot was breaking some of his limbs to fit him in the freezer, he had ransacked his father's body. He had his phone, which was broken but not to such an extent that he couldn't sell it, and his wallet, with a maxed-out credit card and a hundred or so bucks.
Parrot exhaled the smoke, tapping the cigarette to watch the ash fall.
It seemed like his father couldn't have cared less about Parrot's means of survival in the moment before he kicked the chair, because even with those items, it would only last him about a month, even if he used it wisely. Paired with his part-time job… he'd just have to ask for more hours, then.
It was annoying, and for a second Parrot contemplated whether he should be ashamed of feeling that way, but then—
A grating screech echoed through the bathroom, interrupting that thought, and Parrot froze.
Footsteps.
Oh, fuck. Parrot curled up on the seat, trying not to breathe. It was pointless, though—any teacher would obviously recognize the smell of smoke. That was hard to figure out, however; why would a teacher choose this bathroom? When Parrot was pretty sure he was the first one to use it in months?
The footsteps got closer, and as Parrot's heart began to pound, the person had yet to speak.
Maybe it was a student, after all?
Parrot watched as a shadow slid under the cracks of the stall door. He kept himself very, very still, as the figure merely stood there, not doing or saying anything.
What the fuck was this?
If they wanted the stall, they would have knocked. If it were a teacher or admin, they would've snapped at him already to stop skipping class and poisoning his body.
Yet, even as a full minute went by, the shadow was a still presence only a foot away.
Parrot's panic began to subside, and he frowned.
Who the hell was standing outside his stall right now?
His caution prevented him from speaking for another minute, but gradually, his confusion morphed into an ache of annoyance.
"Can I help you?" he called, finally.
The person didn't respond. They didn't even flinch. Parrot had half a mind to burst open the stall door and break the nose of whoever was creeping on him, but before he could stand up and think about it, the shadow slinked back. The footsteps got quieter and quieter, and with the whining creak of the door, the person was gone.
Parrot stood for another moment, staring at where the shadow once was.
And then, he collapsed onto the toilet seat.
"What was that?" he breathed to himself, taking another drag from his cigarette. "What the fuck was that?"
There was no time to think about it, because the bell suddenly rang, a light melody that resounded around the stalls.
Parrot dragged his fingers through his hair, tossing his cigarette and stomping on it. Hesitantly, he opened the door to the stall—but the bathroom was empty, just as it was when he first entered.
An exhaustive sigh left him as he rubbed a hand over his face.
Whatever. This was an eerie experience he would forget about. There were tons of weirdos at this school, anyway.
Parrot was one of them. He had no room to talk.
It was only after the teacher had explained the lab that Parrot realized something was off.
As the class split up into their natural partners, he approached his teacher.
"Excuse me," he asked her, putting on that fake smile that his other teachers liked. "Is Leo absent today?"
His being late to class wasn't exactly unexpected—Parrot knew that Leo didn't nearly care about school enough to actually run from one side of campus to another just to make it in time. What was strange was the fact that the bell had rung thirty minutes ago, and unless he had decided to sacrifice next summer to skip one class, Leo should be there by now.
The teacher stared at him through her thin glasses, unnecessarily judgmental. Clearly, the act wasn't cutting it, so he dropped his smile and rubbed his jaw. It was only then that she decided to grace him with a response.
"He's your friend, is he not?" She smacked around her gum, but tapped away on her computer anyway, leaning close to squint.
"Says here he asked to go to the counselor's office."
Parrot blinked.
"He what?"
Leo absolutely hated the school's counselor.
He had made that very clear when, after getting in a fight with Spoke, he claimed to the counselor that he'd rather 'slit his throat and hang himself in front of the school' than talk it out.
That was how Leo's lunch detention turned into a two-week suspension and an indefinite length of time without access to his devices.
It was the highlight of Parrot's year.
It was also why there was no way Leo would willingly see that man.
"Why?" Parrot asked, pinching his eyebrows. He felt something unpleasant snake its way around his stomach, but he didn't give it a label just yet, because there were so many explanations he could consider.
It seemed that it was one question too many. The teacher pointed a sharp, red nail at the back of the class and sneered. "It doesn't matter! Go work with someone else."
Parrot tried not to roll his eyes back and let out a very steady exhale as he turned around to see who she was pointing at.
Brown hair. An unassuming grey hoodie with a yin-yang symbol. Dark eyes staring directly into his.
"…The new kid?"
Parrot was seeing him more often than he'd thought. This was the third class they shared—a nasty prank played by the universe? It may as well have been.
He yelped when the teacher smacked his arm with a ruler, rubbing the spot.
"What type of bullying is this?" she barked. "His name is Wifies, now stop wasting time and go work."
Parrot had half a mind to take the ruler and strike her back, but any discipline would lead to a parent conference, and Parrot couldn't exactly explain their absence without spending the rest of his life looking through bars.
"I knew that," he said under his breath instead, but then she glared again, so he didn't pester her any further.
When he looked back, Wifies was staring out the window. As if he hadn't watched the entire conversation take place.
It was strange. But, to Parrot, that was all it was. He approached him wordlessly and tried not to feel intimidated when Wifies didn't look up until he tapped his desk.
"I guess we're partners now," he said when Wifies turned his head.
His face did a complex thing.
"Partners?" he echoed, expression settling on oddly star-struck.
Planet was right. He really was a weirdo.
"Uh… yes," said Parrot, slowly as if explaining to a toddler. "For the lab."
Wifies' lips twitched. And then he took his hand and covered his mouth.
"Okay," he said, and Parrot didn't know why he tried to hide his smile, because it was already evident in his tone.
They stared at each other for a beat longer, and Parrot felt his skin begin to crawl. There was something in Wifies' eyes that didn't quite sit right with him—a dull, knowing look you'd only find in the deeply disturbed or public health hazards. This, rightfully so, struck him as odd, because it was also something he could recognize personally.
Something Parrot saw in his own eyes whenever he saw himself in the mirror.
But before he delved into it any further, Wifies was already heading to their lab desk, and Parrot had no choice but to follow.
It was whatever. Once Leo was back, he wouldn't have to speak to Wifies ever again.
If he didn't know any better, Parrot would say that it was the ghost of his father responsible for ripping him away from a good night's rest.
Ever since he hid the body, the nights seemed to grow longer and longer. It wasn't just the uncomfortable arrangement of his floor mattress—he'd slept like that all his life—and it wasn't the eerie quietness of the neighborhood either.
Parrot just could not keep his eyes closed.
When he did, it was only seconds before a strange feeling erupted deep in his chest, quickening his breath and forcing them open again.
It was a… mild inconvenience.
Whenever he had trouble sleeping before, he'd sneak into his father's bag and steal some of his medication, and then he'd be out like a light. Of course, he would beat on him again whenever he was one pill missing, but it got the job done, and there was also a bit of compensation afterwards.
This wasn't the case anymore; it seemed his father had completely gotten rid of everything he owned except for the essentials, so until his next paycheck, Parrot just had to deal with it.
And he was dealing with it. Until tonight.
This time, when his body decided to go against him and become hyper-aware of every single sensation, he didn't try to close his eyes again.
Because there was someone else in the room.
He sensed it before he saw it. Just out of the corner of his eye, there was a figure, engulfed by the shadows of the house, completely hidden from the revealing light of the moon.
Parrot's cognitive functions halted, and his entire body felt far away as he sat up, blanket falling into his lap. His eyes had a hard time adjusting from his exhaustion, but eventually they cleared and allowed him to take it in.
He stared right at the figure—human-shaped, definitely, but not speaking or attacking. Just watching him. It gave him a bit of deja vu, but the feeling was insignificant compared to what Parrot was thinking.
He slowly turned to the freezer.
The lock was undone.
It was barely pushed open, and the rancid smell hit his nose like a freight train.
Sleep deprivation was a dangerous spell, and the only conclusion Parrot could come to was also the last thing that made sense. At least, if he were in his right mind, he would've thought otherwise. But he wasn't, and the freezer was open, and someone was standing in his room, and it could really only mean one thing.
His mouth went dry, looking back at the shadow.
"…Dad?"
The fear in his voice sounded unrecognizable to his own ears, and it came out croaky in a manner that exposed vulnerability in a way Parrot was disgusted by. But that wasn't the point, because the figure was still standing there, meaning this couldn't have been a hallucination, right?
Parrot watched very closely for any reaction, but the shadowed intruder didn't even flinch.
Maybe this was still a dream. Everything else in the room seemed blurry, and he felt frozen, unable to drag his eyes away from the figure. He was dreaming.
And then he noticed it, suddenly. Movement.
Parrot jolted so harshly he nearly cramped.
The intruder was doing something, maybe to his legs, or somewhere around his stomach. A fast-paced movement, back and forth, with his arm or hand.
When Parrot strained his ears, there was a faint slick sound. He couldn't recognize what it was; his mind raced to match the noise to something familiar, but nothing came up.
The figure continued to stare at him, arm shaking, and he stared back.
It was undeniable, now. This was a dream.
At that thought, Parrot unconsciously allowed his body to let go of its alarm; exhaustion suddenly collapsed onto him like a weighted blanket, and his body swayed as he fell back and hit the pillow.
Definitely a dream.
Parrot's eyes slipped shut again, his senses slowly leaving him.
He didn't know how, but he was certain that this would be the final interruption that night.
And he was right. The next morning, the freezer was shut again, and the latch was back in place as if it had never changed. When Parrot opened it to double-check, the body hadn't seemed to have moved.
And if, for a brief moment, the glassy eyes looked to be staring right back at him—well. That was surely an illusion, and he had classes to attend.
It was only after Theo threw a fork at his head that Parrot realized he had been talking the entire time.
"What?" he asked, the world coming back to him. The cafeteria was loud, teenagers hooting and hollering instead of eating—he didn't know how he managed to zone out.
"Dude," Theo said, arm faltering before he could throw something else. "Are you good, bro?"
Parrot smiled, though it was weak, and bitter shame washed over him. Surely he wasn't being this affected by a couple lost hours at night. "Yeah, sorry. Didn't get a lot of sleep."
Reina, who had been watching him pick at his food the entire time, gave him a look.
"It's because you spend all of lunch yapping instead of eating," she remarked. "Look at this. When was the last time you ate your vegetables?"
"The last time I ate my vegetables was the last time they sold edible food."
"Oh, so freshman year?" Theo asked.
Parrot sent him a grin, and Theo laughed as Reina rolled her eyes.
"Just immature and stupid," Reina muttered. But then she lifted her head, just to the left of Parrot. "Oh. Hello."
Parrot didn't realize a shadow had appeared over the table until she said something. When he turned around, he saw a familiar face staring down at him blankly.
"Oh. Hey, man," he said hesitantly. Where the hell did he come from?
"Parrot," the new kid greeted, nodding his head. "Can I sit with you? Everyone here is ugly and it's making me nervous."
Parrot tried very hard to control his face when Theo threw his head back, cackling, and Reina let out a 'pft' before slapping a hand over her mouth.
"Dude," he said, voice trembling with hidden laughter. "Of course."
The guy smiled widely, walking around to sit next to Reina.
"This is…" Parrot paused, and he raised his hand to make up for the delay.
What was it again?
Right. "…Wifies. He's in a few of my classes."
"Sup," Theo grinned easily. "Theo. And the bitter girl is Reina."
"Should I kill you or no?"
As Reina and Theo fell into their usual banter, Parrot turned to Wifies.
"Thanks for your help in chemistry," he sighed, resting his cheek on his hand. "Honestly, I was a little worried we'd both be screwed since Leo carries my grade, but you're super talented."
Wifies mirrored the movement. "It's nothing. Thanks for being my partner."
His charm came as a surprise to Parrot, and he smiled as a sense of relief flooded into his heart. Maybe Planet's assumptions were unfounded, after all.
Theo's head snapped up, away from Reina, who was trying to launch mashed potatoes into his hair. "Leo wasn't there, right? He wasn't in Government, either."
He looked to Parrot and frowned. "Didn't he say that if he skipped any more classes, his ma would pull him out?"
Reina nodded, distracted from her attack. "Yeah, is he sick or something?"
Parrot shrugged, staring absentmindedly at his plate. "I heard he visited the counselor for something. I don't know the details—he didn't answer my calls or texts."
Speaking it out loud felt like welcoming all the bad possibilities into this universe, and Parrot bit his tongue as soon as he said it.
Reina frowned. "That's bullshit."
"Yeah, I know."
Suddenly, Parrot lurched as Theo pounced on him.
"Parrot!" he shouted in his ear, causing him to wince. "Are you so terrible at chemistry, even Leo couldn't handle it?!"
With all the self-control he could muster, Parrot refrained from punching Theo straight in the nose and instead let it happen.
"I am not nearly as terrible at it as you." He pointed to Wifies. "Ask him!"
The three of them grinned, looking to Wifies to include him in the jesting.
But Parrot's smile wavered. "Uh."
Wifies was staring blankly at the two, shoulders rigid. His eyes were dim, eyes lidded as if he were bored, but his posture was straight, as if they had his full attention.
A stream of unease trickled down his spine.
"Wifies?" he called, and dark eyes snapped to him. Then, he looked at Theo.
His frown twisted into something mean.
"Are you gay or something?"
The table went quiet.
Parrot's jaw slowly dropped.
Where the hell did that come from?
"W, what?" Theo stammered, grin faltering. "I-I mean, I'm bi, but. But what?"
The answer only seemed to make it worse; Wifies leaned back and pinched his eyebrows, and suddenly everything Parrot thought he knew about Wifies unraveled as easily as threads.
"Are you two dating, then?"
It was an unconscious act when Parrot threw Theo off of him, and Theo similarly turned away to gag playfully.
"Are you kidding?" Theo sneered, covering his mouth. "This stuck-up guy? Dude, gross, no. Never."
Parrot did not feel the same amusement. He could see Reina eyeing him with the same thoughts.
"So what if they were dating?" Reina asked, leaning back slightly. "Would you have a problem with that?"
Wifies was completely still. He hadn't taken his eyes away from where Theo and Parrot's skin met.
"I just think it's weird he's so touchy," he droned, before looking straight into his eyes. "Parrot, do you like that kind of stuff? From another man."
Parrot could not believe his fucking ears.
Disgust curled deep in his gut. What was he hearing right now?
"Friends play around like that all the time," Parrot mumbled. "Why are you being weird?"
At the question, it was as if some spell had broken over Wifies' composure; he flinched, eyes going wide, and he raised his hands as if to surrender.
"Oh, that—" he stuttered, face dropping. "I didn't mean…"
The bell rang suddenly. Parrot hadn't even noticed the time passing.
With it, Wifies shot up, stumbling out of the seat. Before he could leave, Parrot reached for his wrist.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, trying to keep his bewilderment out of his tone. It was a fail, but it didn't matter, because Wifies had grown ghost-white and Parrot didn't think he recognized the intonation, anyway.
All Wifies did was stare wide-eyed at the skin-on-skin contact. He opened his mouth, as if to explain himself, and then he snatched his hand away, staggering out of the cafeteria.
Parrot stood there for a moment, mind reeling as Theo released a displeased noise.
"What was that?" Reina gaped, standing up next to Parrot to watch as students began to filter through the exit. "You said he was cool."
"He was," Parrot said weakly. He had never seen anything like it—people were always easy to predict, emotions clear on their faces, next words like a transcript Parrot had already preloaded.
Wifies was anything but that. He kept surprising him. In their first period, in the lab, and now here. As offended as he was, Parrot couldn't ignore the flicker of fascination deep in his core.
He turned to Theo, grimacing. "Bro, I'm so sorry about that. Like—I don't. I don't even know…"
Theo stood, slapping him on the back and making him choke.
"All good, brother. Bitches be weird."
Leave it to Theo to turn every serious situation into a joke to tell at parties. Reina snorted again, and the odd atmosphere immediately cleared.
Parrot rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wipe his bafflement off his face.
"Yeah," he sighed, throwing away his lunch. "Bitches be weird."
After five days of radio silence from Leo, Parrot seriously began considering the possibility of suicide. Or murder.
"He wouldn't commit suicide," Theo insisted as they packed their things after the last period of the day. "He's too proud for that, right?"
"Sure," Parrot said, throwing a scarf around his neck.
He was only partly joking, anyway. If Leo actually killed himself… well. He couldn't have. And if he did, then Parrot would seriously consider seeing a witch to read his aura, because once was a tragedy, but twice was the work of a demon.
The sky was dark and angry once they reached the front steps of the school, and thunder rumbled in the distance. A single drop of rain plopped onto his nose—
"So then murder," said Theo as he pulled out his umbrella. Parrot threw his bag around to search for one, too.
"Who would, though?"
Theo paused. "Spoke?"
Parrot huffed out a laugh, shoving him. "Yeah, okay."
At that point, he'd nearly turned his bag inside-out. He groaned, looking back up as the thunderous clouds rolled in directly above the school.
"Oh shit," Theo muttered suddenly. "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear."
Parrot didn't have to turn his head to figure out who Theo was talking about.
"Parrot!!!"
He grimaced, causing Theo to snort, before quickly schooling his expression to turn around.
"Spoke," he smiled. "Long time no see."
Spoke's grin was blinding—teeth sharp and exposed. "My man, my man, my man!" He raised a hand, but when Parrot didn't go to slap it, he whacked him on the back instead. "I haven't seen you since, what, April?"
"When Leo broke your nose," he recalled, wincing at the hit. "Yeah."
The remark didn't break Spoke's spirits. If anything, he looked even more excited, twirling around dramatically and holding a hand over his eyes. Parrot didn't know where he kept all this energy.
"And where's that asshole?!"
The question scared Parrot's objective out of hiding. Oh, right.
He turned to Theo, but he didn't even need to say anything.
"Gotcha," Theo said, saluting. "Don't get too drenched."
And he walked off to the parking lot, leaving Spoke and Parrot to sit on the stairs just barely protected from the rain.
Spoke's curiosity already told him everything he needed to know.
"I was going to ask you that, actually. Leo hasn't shown up for a week." He pulled out his phone, scrolling to Leo's contact. "He hasn't answered any of my texts either."
Spoke hummed, and surprisingly, Parrot could see that he was seriously thinking it over.
"Grounded?" he suggested. "That guy has a foul temper, you know."
"He still would've gone to class, though."
Spoke blinked at him. "Also true. Uh. Hm…"
He placed a hand on his chin, tilting it left and right.
"Ah… um…" He dropped his head, pouting. "Darn. I wish I could help, Parrot. I have no fucking idea!"
Parrot tried not to give him a look of disappointment as he smiled again, bright and loopy.
"But do let me know when he shows up again, yeah?" he asked, shooting up to open his umbrella (a pink one littered with sakuras. Okay.) and throw his bag over his shoulder.
"Will do," Parrot sighed.
And then Spoke left as well, bidding him goodbye with a kick of his shoes and a frantic wave.
Parrot pinched his nose. Why did he think a conversation with Spoke would get him anywhere.
It was raining even harder now, the drops hitting the ground with such velocity that the entire pavement was dark, not even five minutes after it started.
Parrot parked his car all the way across the lot, too.
"Fuck," he muttered.
"Fuck what?"
His heart lurched so suddenly and so strongly that Parrot felt it try to break through his ribcage. Embarrassingly, he couldn't stop the yelp that escaped him when he whipped around to the voice.
It was Wifies. Standing on the top step, with a black umbrella halfway open.
"Wifies," he breathed, regaining his composure.
"Parrot," Wifies smiled. "Fuck what?"
He looked away. "Fuck the weather, I guess."
The words came out faster than he'd liked.
The last time it rained this hard, he made twice as much at the convenience store because of how many people took shelter. And it was also the closest he'd been to mass murder.
Though now, embarrassing himself in front of Wifies—he was favoring suicide.
"Yeah, it's coming down hard." Suddenly, he plopped down next to Parrot, closing his umbrella.
Their thighs were barely touching, and the feeling sent goosebumps up and down Parrot's skin. But Wifies didn't seem to notice at all.
"We can walk under the same umbrella," he offered, smiling politely as he shook it.
Warmth bloomed in Parrot's chest.
Just as quickly, it shriveled up and died.
"I don't know," he bit, turning away. "Two guys close together like that? That's gay, right?"
Wifies blinked, faltering.
Guiltily, Parrot took a bit of pleasure in how his smile dropped, then.
In all honesty, he was 100% expecting Wifies to clam up like before, and walk away with his head hanging low and posture curled.
Instead, Wifies shot straight up and leveled him with a firm stare.
"Parrot," he started. "What happened at lunch was a misunderstanding. I'm not…" His eyes darted away and back. "I'm not homophobic, or anything. I don't know why I acted like that, but I'm sorry."
The maturity of it all had Parrot speechless for a few moments.
Did he practice this in the mirror, or something?
"Okay," said Parrot, unsure. "Sure, yeah. Apologize to Theo, too, I guess."
Wifies smiled, standing back up again. He offered a hand before nodding to the downpour, which hadn't slowed. "So, shall we walk?"
When Parrot took it, Wifies opened the umbrella, shuffling awkwardly so they could fit comfortably while protected.
Their shoulders brushed, and Parrot tried not to cringe. Well. He'd remember to check the weather next time—he'd been too worried about Leo to be as put together as he usually was.
As they walked down the steps, his phone began to buzz.
Parrot looked down at the caller ID.
And he nearly threw his phone across the parking lot.
"Holy shit!" he yelped, startling Wifies as he scrambled to pick up. He pushed the phone painfully against his ear. "Hello?"
Beats of unbearable silence passed. Wifies stared all the while, eyes wide.
Someone coughed over the phone.
"Parrot?" A raspy voice came through, and Parrot's knees nearly gave out.
"Dude!" Parrot hissed. "Leo, where the fuck have you been?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wifies go rigid, but he didn't care enough to decipher why.
"Parrot, bro. Relax."
"Fuck you!"
Suddenly, an umbrella was being shoved into his other hand. Parrot looked up, confused, as Wifies completely stepped out from under the umbrella.
He lowered the phone. "What's wrong?"
Wifies' face was blank. It was a sight Parrot was beginning to get familiar with, but there was no clear pattern to it.
"You can keep it," he said, staring at Parrot's phone. "I don't mind the rain."
Parrot gaped.
"What? But you…"
Before he could finish protesting, Wifies dashed off, feet pattering against the rain streaming down the pavement.
Parrot watched as he ran to his car, quickly getting drenched.
"Uh…" What was that?
"Parrot?"
He jolted at Leo's voice. Oh, right. More important matters.
"Leo, did your ass get sent to the gallows?" he hissed, raising the phone.
The responding laughter crackled in and out, but all Parrot could feel was utter relief as he jogged across the parking lot.
Leo's smile was obvious even through his cough. "Let me tell you, bro…"
Familiarity seeped into the conversation as if Leo had never left; in fact, it might've come back tenfold. Parrot couldn't stop grinning as Leo explained his sudden sickness, which had forced him to rot in bed and fucked him sideways.
"I'm serious!" Leo shouted when Parrot began to make fun of him as he drove. "Every time I leave my bed, the world spins. If I showed up to Chemistry, you would have died."
Parrot scoffed as he parked in front of his apartment, gathering his things. "It would have been a blessing. I feel like she hates me even more when you're not around."
He fumbled with the keys, holding the phone with his shoulder.
"You're coping, bro."
"The way I'm not, though. You—"
Parrot froze, foot halfway through the door.
"I what?"
The door creaked as it opened, the only sound Leo could probably hear, because Parrot couldn't reply. His throat had gone dry.
"Parrot?"
He blinked, faltering with the phone.
"Huh." He stepped out, looking down both ends of the corridor.
It was empty. The parking lot was, too, besides the cars that never left. He stepped back into his apartment, quietly shutting the door.
"Leo?" he called, before Leo could ask for him again. He set his bag down very carefully in the corner as Leo hummed through the phone. "Could I call you back?"
He approached the freezer, ignoring the crunch that sounded with every step.
When he opened it, his father was still there. Parrot exhaled, only then realizing he'd been holding his breath, and shut the lid before the putrid scent could reach his nose.
"Yeah, I guess. Why?"
Parrot turned back to his apartment.
Rose petals were scattered across every surface. The once-bare walls were now covered from floor to ceiling in uneven hearts, jagged as if the hand had trembled as it drew.
It was done with some rich red substance. If Parrot got closer, he assumed he would probably smell the iron.
"Nothing serious," Parrot said. "It's just…"
A bouquet was set under the floor, right under where his father had been hanging not even a month before.
"I think someone's thrown me a party."
A screwdriver sat just behind the cash register. It was small, but still sharp.
If Parrot jabbed it hard enough into this woman's neck, it could end her life. It would be a painful, slow, and messy death, but a death nonetheless.
"Seriously, why did they even hire you?" the lady barked into his face. "I've been coming here for three years! You're the most incompetent employee I've met!"
Her lipstick was bright, offensive, and painfully not her shade. Parrot watched as a small glob of spit flew from her lips onto the corner of his mouth.
Parrot barely stopped himself from headbutting her, and his hands twitched with the urge to reach for the screwdriver. He really wanted to kill her.
But as he wiped it off, he saw Jumper near the back restocking, wincing as she watched the scene unfold. When they made eye contact, she shook her hand and her head back and forth in a frantic manner.
Don't lose it, was what Parrot translated.
"Are you even listening to me?!"
Parrot blinked away to meet her gaze. With as much patience as he could muster, he scanned her final item.
He got a kick out of watching her face distort even further, anger causing her to literally shake where she stood. He tossed her items into a bag and held it out.
"You have a good day, ma'am," said Parrot, offering a plastic smile.
The woman gasped a few times. Then, she puffed up her chest and stomped away.
"Ridiculous!" she yelped, voice high and annoying. "Simply ridiculous!"
When she was gone, Parrot closed his eyes and took a very deep breath.
He really should have killed her then, right?
Someone knocked on the counter.
His eyes shot open, posture going straight as he prepared for another insufferable customer interaction.
"Hello, how may I…" he trailed off, slouching again. "Oh."
Across from him, Wifies beamed.
"Parrot," he smiled. "I didn't know you worked here."
Parrot found that very hard to believe.
"Don't I run into you too often?" he asked, going for a playful grin as he picked up the scanner again.
"Is it a problem?"
Wifies tilted his head as he placed his shopping basket forward.
Parrot opened his mouth to respond, but he paused, blinking at the items.
These were…
A strange feeling pooled in his belly, and when he looked up, Wifies had that strange grin he always had, a bit off and uneven.
Parrot swallowed. He forgot what Wifies even said.
"What are these for?" he asked, very carefully.
Wifies' smile faltered, and he followed his gaze to the basket.
Razors, and bandages, and antiseptics. Enough of each that they couldn't possibly be for a scraped knee or anything innocent along those lines.
The world became very quiet for a second—he couldn't even recognize the constant, annoying buzz of the lights, or the traffic that was close enough to give him a headache.
Parrot didn't know if he was imagining it, but when Wifies looked up, his eyes seemed darker. Emptier, maybe.
"Do you wanna see?"
Parrot's mind went blank.
"What?"
Wifies brought his arm forward, and Parrot felt goosebumps settle across every inch of his skin as he slowly began to pull his sleeve back.
"Wait…"
A hand suddenly slammed down onto Parrot's shoulder, and it shocked him so harshly that his entire body jolted. He was back to the present now, and Wifies face had returned to normal. His arm was back to his side again.
Parrot turned to see Wemmbu offering his signature customer-service smile.
"Have any problems with our products?" he asked, clenching his hand.
When Parrot looked back, Wifies had his eyes trained on his shoulder.
A few moments of silence went by.
Finally, Wifies adopted a bored expression.
"No," he said. "I'm all good here."
"That's wonderful to hear."
With the speed of an authentic, underpaid, overworked manager, Wemmbu scanned his items lightning fast. He tossed them into a bag and shoved it forward. "You have a great day, sir."
An awkward silence occurred as Wifies leveled a glare at him. Wemmbu's face didn't even twitch.
"…You have a better one."
And like that, Wifies was gone.
Parrot was frozen for several seconds. And then, he whipped around to Wemmbu.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, eyes wide.
Wemmbu merely shrugged and patted him on the back. "That guy's a creep, no?"
Strangely, Parrot felt embarrassed for Wifies. "That's not true."
The defense clearly wasn't expected, because Wemmbu halted in patting his back, blinking at him.
"He kinda is."
They both turned to find Jumper leaning onto the counter, head in her hands.
"He entered and left the store probably five times without buying anything," Jumper clarified, looking up through her lashes. "Until you showed up, Parrot."
The uncomfortable feeling came back tenfold, and he gaped back at Wemmbu.
"Really?"
Wemmbu grimaced, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, bro. Do you know him?"
That's…
"I guess," Parrot settled on as Jumper returned to the shelves to restock. "We share some classes."
"Huh."
They stood there for a beat or two, before Wemmbu shrugged.
"Welp," he said, patting Parrot's back one more time before disappearing behind the 'Employees Only' door. "Should've dropped out like me."
If it were any other day, Parrot would've laughed. Maybe heckled Wemmbu for being a loser.
But all he could do was stare at the door, eyes frozen in the direction Wifies went.
He'd really have to talk with him later, then.
Reina was great company. She was observant, smart, and painfully blunt when it came to proving a point.
That's why Parrot took every word she said into great consideration.
Especially when, once the bell rang and brought their conversation to a close, she ended it with a final thought.
"Wifies is strange," she shrugged, since he wasn't around to hear it. "I just think you should be careful."
If Theo were there, he would have shrieked something obnoxious about how the weirdest people are always the best to hang around.
But he wasn't. In fact, he hadn't shown up since the second semester started a week ago. At least this time, Parrot got a text in advance, and Theo never missed a day to send him an out-of-date meme. Even so, it didn't fail to leave Parrot feeling odd.
"I will," he promised, gently shoving her on the shoulder. She returned it with an unnecessary amount of force.
When they reached the entrance, Reddoons was leaning against a trash can at the other side of the hall. Parrot had assumed he graduated, but it wouldn't have surprised him if he got held back for screwing around.
He went to wave, but Red beckoned them over.
"Yo, man!" he grinned when they approached, raising a hand. "Been a while."
Parrot smiled back and dapped him up. "Yeah. What's up?"
His grin turned sly; of course, it was something mischievous. His other hand, which had been hidden behind his back the entire time, shot forward.
He was holding two thin slips, and when Parrot took one to peer closer, he realized it was an invite.
"Party next week at Zam's," he explained.
The design was crude at best. Parrot tried not to laugh as he shared a look with Reina.
"Uh-huh…" Reina mumbled, looking up. "This couldn't be a text message?"
Red shrugged. "She insisted." He leaned to look behind Parrot. "Where's Theo?"
Parrot felt a pang in his chest, and he averted his gaze as Reina frowned. If he knew the answer, he'd have already figured out a way to get him back, because as introspective as Reina was, Theo had already become his other half.
"I don't know. Sick, I guess." He shoved the invite into his pocket.
"Really?" asked Red. He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Same as Leo?"
"Yeah," said Parrot. "The same thing."
It was when Derap nearly vomited all over the couch that Parrot realized he desperately needed to get away from all the noise.
The party, until that point, had been relatively chill. Once the living room was filled, Zam had eagerly welcomed everyone, claiming that 'the house was completely theirs for the night.'
What this translated to was: Please turn the entire place upside down so I can piss off my rich parents. They can't avoid me this time.
But apparently—and Parrot didn't get this memo—that had also translated to: Let's get FUCKING WASTED.
Jaden had spiked every single drink when nobody was looking, and now everybody was on another plane of reality. Even Parrot couldn't escape it; the alcohol made his head pound with the music as he stumbled through the living room.
Everyone was, in the kindest terms… a mess.
Spoke and Mapicc were screaming their hearts out at karaoke, and behind them, Boosfer was passed out on the couch. Parrot, for a moment, thought he was dead, before Squiddo sat on his feet and he shrieked.
And Derap was… he didn't even know. Derap looked sick, wandering around like some apparition, and when he doubled over near the couch, Parrot realized how light-headed he'd become.
When Parrot escaped and passed the kitchen, he tried his hardest to ignore Flame and Lomedy making out on top of the sink and went straight for the fridge.
But when he opened it, there was no cold water. In fact, it was completely empty except for an Xbox controller and a Kit Kat bar.
Parrot had to get out of here before he killed someone.
But he didn't have a clue where Reina was—probably in one of the bedrooms, exploring Zoe's insides. So he had to fend for himself.
It was a good thing the front door was around the corner. Without bothering to look for his jacket, he stepped into the chill night air with nothing but a t-shirt and shorts.
And immediately regretted it. A shiver traveled up his body as he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself.
Whatever. It was quieter. Even the music, which was loud enough to shake the floorboards inside, was only a constant hum on the porch.
And… there was someone else sitting on the steps. Brown hair, pale skin shining under the moonlight, and—when he looked back—an odd smile.
He didn't know why he got surprised anymore. "Wifies."
The smile widened. "Parrot."
Wifies scooted over closer to the railing; a clear invitation.
Parrot took it.
They sat there for a few minutes in silence. Parrot didn't know why, but it was actually… comfortable. The moon wasn't in sight, its light merely reflecting from elsewhere, and the music was almost soothing under the sounds of crickets and distant traffic.
Their legs were touching, again. Parrot found that he didn't really mind.
He blinked at the realization.
When did that happen? It's not like they ever really hung out outside of school.
Well… they did walk to their cars every day after class. But that was because Theo was sick. And Wifies did visit him at his part-time job whenever he had shifts, but that was because it was convenient for both of them.
Huh…
Parrot cradled his head in his hands.
"Fuck," he uttered, not bothered if Wifies could hear. "Seriously, fuck."
"Yeah."
Several more seconds of silence went by. Then, Wifies was nudging his leg. When he looked up, there was a pack of cigarettes in his face.
He could've kissed Wifies right then and there. "Are you an angel?" And then, he tilted his head. "How'dya know I smoked, anyway?"
Wifies looked away.
"Just a hunch," he mumbled.
Parrot took one, fiddling it between his fingers. Someone screamed inside the house, followed by obnoxious laughter.
"Don't have a lighter," he mumbled, pouting. He was just drunk enough not to feel embarrassed when, as Wifies took one out, his face brightened instantly.
They both stared as the flame flickered in the wind.
It was very pretty. Maybe he shouldn't smoke. Maybe he should just burn this house down.
"Parrot."
He hummed, watching as Wifies took the cigarette from his fingers and tilted his chin up, placing it between his lips.
Parrot did not know why he let him do it. At the time, it all just came naturally, and Wifies lit his cigarette without much fight.
It was a euphoric feeling—when was the last time he smoked? Maybe it was the alcohol enhancing it, but with a single exhale, he felt all the stress weighing his body down escape as if it were nothing but his imagination.
Wifies lit his, and Parrot watched in amusement as he awkwardly fumbled with the cigarette, before taking a hit and immediately coughing.
What an idiot. Why buy a pack if you don't even smoke?
Everything Wifies did was so strange.
Parrot paused, smile faltering.
No, really… wasn't it strange?
Suddenly, his mind cleared ever so slightly, and the world came back to him right as it was on the cusp of fading into a blur.
"You're strange," he said, knocking Wifies on the shoulder.
He jolted, blinking at him. "Really? Why?"
"That… that little scene you made," Parrot waved his hand vaguely. "At my job. What was that?"
Wifies had gone completely still, and Parrot tried his hardest to maintain eye contact. He could see Wifies bite his cheek, as if trying to taste the words before Parrot could judge them.
"We all have our ways of coping," he settled on, gaze dropping. "Sometimes the problem doesn't just drop dead."
The wind had stopped.
Even the crickets had gone into hiding, and the city seemed to have disappeared; the music was still going, but it was so, so far away, now.
Parrot's head spun. He was too drunk for this. He was too drunk to seriously consider the weight of that sentence—he could only recognize the implications, and nothing more.
He could only keep staring into Wifies' eyes. Were they always this close?
"Are we the same, then?" Parrot said, lowly.
Had Wifies blinked ever since they started talking? Parrot didn't remember. All he knew was that Wifies was peering into his soul, and it seemed to leave him completely breathless. Not a single coherent thought was forming.
Wifies leaned closer. Parrot leaned closer, too.
Wifies tilted his head. Parrot tilted his head the other way.
There was a moment where, when they were so close that they were practically breathing into each other's mouths, nobody moved. Parrot's eyes were on Wifies', and his were directed lower.
And then, Wifies closed the gap.
Parrot had never kissed anyone before. Not on purpose.
There was a time, though, when he had come home to his father especially drunk, and he tackled Parrot to the floor and beat him bloody, all the while calling him his mother's name.
After that, Parrot's father had kissed him.
And after that, he threw up on his face and didn't return for nearly three weeks. That was the longest he had ever disappeared, and when he returned, neither of them mentioned it.
That time had been sloppy and vile. It made Parrot never want to kiss anyone ever again.
But this kiss…
All Parrot could do was sigh into Wifies' mouth and open his lips to let him have a better taste.
Wifies' lips were soft, languid, and hesitant against his. He wasn't trying to devour him—it was as if he just wanted to know if Parrot tasted as good as he thought. He must have, because when Parrot opened his lips, Wifies let out a low whine and allowed their tongues to meet.
Were kisses supposed to be this messy, then? Parrot, through the daze of drunkenness and a slowly rising arousal burning through his body, found that he didn't really mind. Wifies smelled like cigarette smoke, but his teeth tasted like peppermint, and Parrot began to tremble as he reached up to clench Wifies' hoodie for balance.
Wifies brought a hand to his cheek, and Parrot kept his eyes shut as he leaned into it. It only added to the warmth brimming under his skin, and as the sounds of saliva and soft moans became recognizable to his ears, he felt something electrifying spike deep in his gut.
He couldn't think. The world was spinning; he knew even when he couldn't see it, and his brain was foggy, a dead weight in his skull.
The fogginess turned into light-headedness. And it was only then that Parrot realized his chest had grown tight, because he couldn't breathe.
Sluggishly, he hit Wifies' chest with his hand, but it only spurred him on, and Parrot let out a muffled cry when his other hand slithered under his shirt. Wifies' fingers pressed hard into his waist, causing him to shiver.
Tears began to prick in his eyes, and when he opened them, he couldn't help but flinch when he found that Wifies was already staring back.
He hit him harder this time, and Wifies took the hint.
Their lips separated with a smack, and Parrot took a moment to gasp and recover his oxygen.
The world wasn't spinning after all. It was just his heart jackrabbitting against his ribs.
What the fuck was that?
"Parrot," Wifies panted.
When Parrot looked up, his pupils had gone pinpoint, and his face was bright red. In his peripheral vision, Parrot could see the effect the makeout session had on him under his pants.
Not a corpse, after all.
Parrot didn't feel warm anymore. The chill of the night had returned even stronger. He felt like he was going to vomit, or maybe pass out and die. The heat in his gut had extinguished, leaving him with a cold, empty core.
He wiped the saliva off his face and stood on unsteady feet, and when Wifies reached out, he swatted it away.
He ignored the way his heart clenched at Wifies' hurt expression.
"You're drunk," he slurred. "I'm… drunk."
"Parrot—"
When Wifies stood, he backed away instinctively. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, but the darkness of Wifies' eyes wasn't mesmerizing anymore. It just made him feel panicked.
"I'm going back inside. Don't… don't follow me."
It was likely a futile request, but Parrot didn't care—he just wanted to be around literally anyone else.
Parrot's head was already pounding, but the music made it worse. Did they raise the volume? Were there usually this many people in the living room? Parrot tried not to feel queasy as he shuffled through the movement of bodies, and he eventually stumbled into a clearing next to the TV.
Someone was lying flat on the floor, probably passed out. It looked like Red, but Parrot couldn't tell, because he was too busy tripping over their head and tumbling face forward to the floor.
Except—an arm reached out, and he was saved. The person chuckled, and Parrot knew who it was before he looked up.
"Hey, little bird," Clown smiled, sharp and wicked. "You look like shit."
If Parrot were sober enough, he would've clocked him then and there. But Branzy was standing nearby, and he was pretty sure Zam was close, too.
Parrot would feel bad if he caused a scene. So all he did was grimace and lay his forehead on Clown's chest.
The rumble he felt as Clown cackled was oddly comforting.
He could hear Branzy whack him on the shoulder.
"Idiot, don't laugh."
And then, a warm hand on his back. "Parrot, are you feeling well?"
He sluggishly turned his head to answer. But then—
The world blurred again as another hand yanked him back. One moment, he was looking at Branzy's bewildered expression and Clown's lopsided grin, and the next, he was being spun to face Wifies.
He looked murderous.
"What the fuck?" Wifies bit, eyes crazed. "Why are you rubbing up on other people the moment I leave the fucking room?"
Parrot was too drunk for this. Screw not making a scene; this was fucking irritating.
He gripped Wifies' wrist to push it away, and brought his hand to his chest as if it burned. Because maybe it did.
"Why are you so fucking weird around me?" he yelled, voice trembling despite himself.
The music hadn't gotten louder, but it seemed the crowd heard him anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his friends turning to stare at the commotion. He paid them no mind, because there was a sick satisfaction from seeing Wifies' face fall.
"We're—we're best friends, aren't we?" he stammered.
Parrot wanted to scream.
"We barely even know each other!" he shouted, hands shaking in exasperation. "We've just met! What the fuck are you talking about, Wifies?"
He couldn't understand why Wifies looked so heartbroken. Zam was approaching them with a concerned expression, but Parrot could only register his anger flaring.
"You're doing it again," Wifies said, curling into himself to squeeze his hands around his shoulders. "First, you call me a liability. Then you save me from death."
He stepped closer, and Parrot took one back, staggering.
"Y-you keep my spyglass. And now—and now you don't even want me to touch you."
Parrot was too fucking drunk for this. What the fuck was he saying? When did he ever call him a liability? What fucking spyglass?
Zam was closer now, and she pushed a gentle hand between the two.
"Parrot," she said, perturbed. "Is everything okay?" And then, she leaned closer and dropped to a whisper. "Do you need me to kick him out?"
It was a kind gesture, but it didn't reach his heart, already overwhelmed with ire.
"No," he snapped, shoving her hand away. "I'll just take my leave."
He offered a final glare at Wifies before stomping past him with a harsh shove to the shoulder.
Someone had turned the music down, and immediately, he heard the crowd erupt into shouts.
"What the hell was that?" Reina distantly yelled behind him.
Parrot was out the door before he could hear Wifies' answer, heart pounding louder than the Earth itself.
The sidewalk was a snaking blur under Parrot's feet. Several times, he barely caught himself from either tripping into the bushes on his right or stumbling into oncoming traffic on his left.
It was so loud. It was too bright. With every step, Parrot felt his stomach lurch, but he didn't stop walking, and he wouldn't stop until he was home.
Parrot didn't even know how he would get there. He didn't even know if he had his phone. But there was no way in hell he would turn back. Even as his skin began to turn numb from the cold, he wouldn't seek shelter until it was his own apartment.
There was a darker corner, away from the busyness of the street, and he made the split decision to turn instead of taking the crosswalk—
—right into someone's chest. He stumbled back, dazed and confused as he looked up.
"S-sorry," he mumbled, but when he took in the man's appearance, he paused.
A black hoodie was over his head. A facemask concealed his identity. And—and a gun in his hand was pressing into Parrot's stomach.
"Empty your pockets, and nobody gets hurt."
Parrot blinked at him.
"What?" he asked, hiccuping.
The man knocked the gun against his rib, and the pain momentarily sobered him.
"Are you fucking deaf?" the man gritted. "Give me a fucking wallet or something, unless you want a bullet through your fucking intestines."
Parrot couldn't help but snort, and he bit his lip to prevent a laugh when the man's eyes widened at the noise.
"Shoot me, then," Parrot grumbled, raising his arms for easier access. "I've just had the worst night of my fucking life."
It was a little humorous to see the mugger briefly wordless in confusion. And then, he gripped Parrot's shoulder to slam him into the brick walls of a house, pressing the gun directly to his forehead, and it wasn't so funny anymore.
Parrot was winded as the man leaned closer.
"Do you wanna fuckin' die?"
This was getting nowhere. It was cold, Parrot wanted to go home, and all he could smell was this guy's rancid fucking breath. It probably smelled better in Parrot's fucking cooler.
He cycled through his choices. Only one seemed reasonable.
Parrot raised a fist and slammed it into the guy's cheek.
It wasn't as strong as he would've liked—alcohol was still alive in his veins, muddying up his senses—but the guy still let out a grunt and stumbled back the way Parrot came.
Parrot dusted himself off as the guy steadied himself against the brick wall, and he waved his hand dismissively.
"I have to go," he mumbled, turning back. "It's fucking cold."
His being drunk might have been messing with his perception of time.
One moment, he was taking a step forward.
The next, he was staring up at a starry sky with a nerve-splitting pain in the back of his head.
"Urghk…" The sound felt like honey in his mouth, and his vision began to go spotty as the pain rendered him boneless.
Something heavy dropped next to him, and the night sky was obscured by the distorted face of the mugger.
"How fucking dare you," the man hissed, or something along those lines, because Parrot's ears were ringing louder than an engine.
His consciousness was slipping away, but Parrot didn't feel like reaching out and grabbing it, because the man was suddenly yanked away.
Parrot could hear him scream, but a strange, squelching sound cut it off. He wanted to see, but trying to sit up was pointless—his body felt like lead.
When the world began to disappear, he didn't try to chase it.
Parrot didn't wake up on his own accord—instead, it was the beeping of his smoke detector that startled him awake.
"Oh shit."
It took several seconds for his eyes to focus, and when they did, the first coherent thought that appeared was, When was the last time I felt this well-rested?
Something was sizzling in the background, but the beeping had stopped. It couldn't have done it by itself.
Someone just spoke a second ago, right?
His body felt weighed down by a hundred tons, but Parrot managed to sit up on his futon. The motion had his mind floating away and knocking back into his skull, and he winced.
When did he get home?
It was bright, but he never had the windows open in case his mother visited. He looked around to find that the room was clean, cleaner than it had been in months, and his bag was situated in the corner next to the door. And—and when his gaze went behind him—
Wifies was standing in his kitchen.
Wifies was standing in his kitchen, with an apron adorned around his waist, and his sleeves pulled up to his elbows. Light and dark scars were littered up and down his forearms.
He was swishing something in a pan on the stove. Parrot couldn't remember the last time he used that thing.
Parrot slowly twisted to look at the freezer.
It was closed, but the lock was undone.
"Did I wake you?"
He startled and looked back to find Wifies staring at him, a half smile on his face.
"Sorry," he sighed, eyeing the pan. "I didn't know your smoke detector was so sensitive. If I did, I would've made toast, or something."
Parrot's brain was lagging behind him.
Wifies was standing in his kitchen. Making him breakfast.
He didn't register standing up and walking closer. He definitely didn't register grabbing Wifies by the collar and yanking him back.
His body hit the floor with a thud, and Parrot barely stopped himself from beating the shit out of him.
"Did you see?" he whispered, towering over him. Panic was raising every hair on his body, and he could hear how it infiltrated his voice.
When Wifies didn't respond, eyes going wide in anything but fear, his composure only broke further.
"Did you?"
Wifies sat up, such a minute movement, but Parrot flinched back anyway.
"Why are you angry?"
His face looked so punchable. Parrot couldn't manage anything but terrible, violent thoughts. "What type of fucking question is that?"
Wifies frown deepened, then, an expression that left Parrot trembling.
Why was he acting like the victim here? What was stopping Parrot from taking the metal-hot pan and bashing his face in until he stopped moving?
"I don't care what you keep in your house," Wifies insisted, standing up. "I think he's better off dead for what he did to you, anyway."
Parrot's blood ran cold as Wifies passed him with barely a glance. When he followed him with his eyes, he had returned to the stove as if everything were normal. As if Parrot had no right to feel angry.
What would Wifies know? How the fuck would Wifies know what that man did to him?
Parrot's urge to strike him transformed into skin-crawling dread. The dread turned physical, and Parrot's unsteady legs forced him to drop back onto the futon.
He pressed his palm against his eyes, hard enough to be painful, and he folded his legs to his chest.
"Have we met before," he breathed.
Wifies gave a light hum, and Parrot removed his hands and waited for the colors to stop swimming.
"We're in the same classes," Wifies chuckled, turning the stove off. He looked like a proper housewife, untying his apron and wiping down the counter.
It made Parrot nauseous. "You know what I fucking mean, Wifies."
Wifies turned, holding two plates of bacon and eggs. He sat them on the table—the same table Parrot ate his cake for his 17th birthday; the same table under which his father dangled—and pushed the fuller one to Parrot.
Looking down at the plate made his gut swirl. As Wifies began to eat, he could only sit there and try not to vomit.
After a minute or two, Wifies looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
"Are you not going to eat?" he muffled.
Parrot swallowed harshly. "I don't like bacon."
Wifies gave him a look.
"Yes, you do," he snorted, taking another bite. "Don't be weird."
Parrot wanted to flip the table over.
He picked up the fork with trembling hands, and brought a small piece of scrambled egg to his mouth. He tried not to sob when it tasted exactly how he liked, and as Wifies gave him a bright smile, he wiped his eyes.
Any other morning, he would've wolfed down the entire plate. But bringing each bite to his mouth felt like a gamble with his own urges—should he stab the fork in Wifies' neck? Should he stab it in his own?
A memory flickered in his mind, one that made him sit up straight.
"What happened to that guy?"
Wifies chewed around his eggs. "What guy?"
His ignorance was driving Parrot closer and closer to the edge. "The guy from last night," he clarified, clenching his fingers in his lap. "I'm… I'm not an idiot, Wifies."
"I dealt with him," Wifies shrugged. "Eat your food."
It was only then that Parrot considered calling the police. But on what grounds? Trespassing, a petty thing like that? How could he convince anyone that Wifies might have assaulted someone? Maybe threatened them so badly they killed themselves?
And it wasn't as if Parrot was innocent, either—they'd probably share a cell if any officer walked in.
Parrot's mind hit a wall. All he could do was continue eating in silence, hands still shaking.
Wifies was already halfway done, and he took a moment to swallow before he spoke again.
"Do you think I could stay with you for a bit?"
Parrot froze and dropped his fork.
"Why?" he croaked out. The embarrassment didn't reach him when Wifies huffed out another laugh.
"You're living all alone," he explained, clearing the last piece of bacon from his plate. "You'll be safer with me."
It didn't make sense, but when did Wifies ever make sense?
"What… what about your parents?"
Wifies gave him a look of amusement, and he felt another wave of disgust wash over him. "I think you know, Parrot."
No, I don't, Parrot wanted to scream. I don't know anything.
But the words eluded him as Wifies stood, grabbing both of their plates and heading to the sink. It was only after he was done washing them that Parrot found the courage to speak again.
"You didn't answer my question," he said, clutching the blankets on his futon. Blankets he'd never seen before in his life.
"Have we met before?"
Wifies didn't respond for a very long moment. He wiped his hands down before turning to lean against the counter. His smile was odd, and it didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah, we have," he answered.
Parrot was at a loss.
"I—I don't remember," he stammered.
At that, Wifies' smile faltered, and he looked away to rub his head. Parrot tried not to flinch as he exhaled heavily, before shrugging.
"That's okay," he smiled, so soft it made Parrot want to run away and hide. "I remember enough for the both of us."
With Theo gone, Parrot had no one else to walk with after school.
It was humiliating. His last period used to be his favorite; Theo and he had sort of a prestige, where anyone could walk by the room, hear the entire class erupt into giggles, and immediately know just which duo made them laugh so hard.
Now, it was like Parrot didn't even exist. He didn't talk to anyone else—so why would he now? Why would they?
Parrot wasn't completely alone, however. Every day, without fail, Parrot made sure he was the last person to drag himself out of the classroom, yet Wifies would still be outside waiting for him, even though the bell had rung half an hour ago.
It used to freak him out, but it was just routine now. It's not as if Wifies being a weirdo was news to him.
What was new to Parrot was that now, he had a constant presence looming over him. He couldn't sleep alone anymore. He couldn't even drive his own car.
"You can just drop me off," Parrot mumbled against his hand, gazing out the car window.
Raindrops were beginning to patter against the glass, and heavy clouds were rolling closer in the distance. If Parrot weren't already cursed, he might've taken it as a bad omen.
"Drop you off where?"
Parrot turned to give Wifies a blank stare.
"My job?" he deadpanned. "I can't just stop showing up because I've got a new sugar daddy."
He loathed it, yet a peculiar sense of pride flared in his chest as Wifies let out a snort in response.
"If that's what you wanna call it." Then, he frowned, hands tightening around the steering wheel. "But I don't feel comfortable leaving you in a place I can't protect you."
Parrot rolled his eyes so harshly they nearly got stuck. "I've been working there since I was fourteen. I'm not going to slip and bust my head open the moment you turn the other cheek."
They stared at each other for a moment, fighting a mental battle with their eyes. Parrot knew he won when Wifies let out an exhaustive sigh.
"Fine," he said, switching lanes to turn instead of going straight to their apartment. "But I'm staying until your shift is over."
If Parrot jumped out of the car, would he die?
It didn't matter, because Wifies was already pulling into the parking lot of the store. Parrot felt a surge of relief at the scattered cars and empty roads—it seemed like nobody was willing to step out in such dangerous weather. Good. Parrot would just sleep on his time and pretend he was resting his eyes.
Wifies had been staring at him ever since they parked.
Parrot thought he'd speak, but he didn't. Parrot didn't feel like saying anything, either, so he reached for the handle.
A hand pinched his sleeve, and he turned to see Wifies pouting.
"Uh," he blinked. "Thanks for the ride."
Wifies' lips pursed, and Parrot winced.
"I… love you?" The words were unfamiliar on his tongue.
At that, Wifies' frown vanished, but as soon as Parrot thought he hit the mark, he realized that Wifies didn't exactly look pleased, either. His eyebrows shot to his forehead, and his jaw dropped slightly.
And then—and it was a strangely captivating sight, because Wifies didn't do it often—his face began to flush. Parrot watched as his smile turned giddy, and in an instant, both of his hands were around his ears and pulling him close.
Parrot could do nothing as Wifies smacked a big kiss onto his lips, and when he opened his eyes, they were shining.
It was the most alive he'd ever seen Wifies since they first kissed at Zam's party.
"I love you, too," he breathed.
For a moment, Parrot wanted to answer with something mean-spirited. The affection wasn't something he was unfamiliar with by now—Wifies wasn't exactly shy in showing it—but it always invoked an urge to retaliate.
But he couldn't speak. So he turned his head and exited the car, the chill of rain pouring causing him to shiver all over as he stepped out. It was a good thing they parked so close.
When he approached the door and reached for the handle, he heard the other car door open, and he whipped his head around to find Wifies standing there.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Wifies smiled. "I'm following you inside?"
"Yeah, I can see that. Why?"
He blinked. "I told you I'd stay with you all shift, didn't I?"
Parrot wanted to bang his head against the door, but he only dared to tap his forehead against it lightly. Of course he meant it like that. Why would he ever assume that anything that came out of Wifies' mouth was normal?
But when he looked up, Jumper was behind the counter, staring at him through the glass with a curious expression. Parrot fought a blush and entered, not bothering to hold the door open.
"Hey, Parrot," she greeted, not so inconspicuously leaning to stare behind him. "Brought a friend?"
Parrot sighed. "I guess, bro. Don't tell Wemmbu, or he'll give me more hours."
"Don't tell me what?"
Fuck everything.
Parrot looked up to find Wemmbu leaning against one of the shelves. He had that pompous half-smile that he always had whenever he caught Parrot clocking in extra hours he didn't work, or stealing the food that was about to expire on the shelves.
As Wemmbu's eyes dragged to Wifies, Parrot ignored the question and headed straight for the back closet. When he put on his vest, Jumper offered him a double thumbs-up.
"Didn't your shift start five minutes ago?" Wemmbu asked once she left and he had taken a seat behind the counter.
Parrot looked out the window. He looked back.
"Right. Because it's all sunshine and rainbows out there."
Wemmbu shrugged and crossed his arms, but he still hadn't torn his eyes away from Wifies. And strangely, Wifies hadn't either.
What was everyone's deal with trying to intimidate each other?
"He won't distract me," Parrot drawled, resting his head on his palm. "You can stop trying to kill him with your mind now."
Wemmbu snorted, finally leaving his guard post and throwing a dismissive hand. Once he had disappeared into the back area, Parrot finally offered Wifies some attention.
Wifies had found a stool right next to the register. Parrot took a moment to mourn the moments of solace he could've enjoyed that day if not for his presence.
He was leaning against the edge of the wall, and it must have hurt with it being wedged right into his spine, but his expression was as blank as always. He was staring out the window as the rain came down even harder, the slow pattering now a constant shower, and he was fiddling with his thumbs in his lap.
It was a sad sight. Why come in at all if you weren't going to do anything?
Parrot twisted in his seat for a bit before he found what he was looking for.
"Wifies," he called, flustered when his head immediately snapped to him. "Here. So you won't be bored for the next four hours."
Wifies raised an eyebrow as he took the book. "Chambers?"
Parrot shrugged. "King in Yellow. You seem like the type who would be into that nerdy stuff."
Wifies shifted on the stool, getting more comfortable as he flipped to the first page. It was then that the first stretch of silence began.
Parrot was surprised to find that Wifies' presence wasn't as disruptive as he predicted. As customers entered and left the store between long intervals, he almost forgot he was even there half the time. It was even more satisfying when the customers didn't want to talk—they just dropped an item or two on the counter, Parrot scanned it, and he didn't even have to fake a smile or offer a cheesy farewell. If every day was like this, Parrot realized, then maybe he wouldn't be as suicidal as he was.
Parrot, at that moment, also remembered that the moment he began to appreciate anything was more often than not within the same time frame in which that certain thing was spoiled.
Parrot's eyes had drifted shut sometime between the last ring of the door and ten minutes after no one else had walked through. It wasn't exactly a nap, though, because he didn't feel well-rested when they snapped open at the sound of someone banging on the counter.
He straightened up instinctively, and his vision took a moment to readjust before he barely had the self-restraint not to scream.
It was the fucking lipstick lady.
"Is this usually what they let you do?" she retorted, tossing the rest of her items next to the register. "Just snore on the job?"
Parrot was affronted.
I do not snore, he wanted to insist. But then he remembered that this was a work environment, and he was two bathroom breaks away from being fired, so he schooled his expression into a pleasant smile.
"Sorry about that," he apologized lightly. "I hope you found everything alright."
"Don't get smart with me."
Parrot hoped that was the end of it as he began to scan her items, but she just wouldn't shut up.
"You're pretty young, aren't you?" she asked once he reached her second bag. "It's no excuse. Everyone who expects to succeed should learn some manners."
I've been nothing but nice to you this entire interaction, lady. Parrot's smile didn't even twitch.
"Do your parents let you run around like that?"
Parrot had picked up a large bag of potato chips in his hand as she said this.
His fingers gripped the bag so hard that it popped.
It was a good thing neither Jumper nor Wemmbu were there, because it was a bit of a spectacle. One of the chips landed in her hair—what was clearly a wig—and a few found their way onto her comically large chest.
Parrot's eyes went wide as he held back a snort.
She was literally shaking, lips twisted in a way he didn't think was possible. "You… you…"
Parrot brought a hand to his mouth. "Oh my gosh. I'm just so sorry about that." Very slowly, he placed the chips back into her bag. "Well. At least you know there's something in there."
It was the wrong thing to say, but Parrot knew he couldn't hold back his tongue forever. So he guessed it was no fault of his own when the lady grabbed the bag and threw it forward. Parrot flinched as the entire thing emptied onto him, and most of the chips fell to the floor.
He gaped down at the mess, mind short-circuiting.
Fuck. He'd have to clean this up.
When he looked up, the lady's face was as red as her lip shade, and she was shaking her fist in a manner that really showed her age.
"Today will be your last day working here," she gritted. "Mark my words."
Parrot watched as she stomped out, and by doing that, he finally remembered that Wifies was here.
And that he had watched that entire fiasco.
Parrot couldn't help it—his entire face flushed as the embarrassment burned its way into his heart and through his veins.
They stared at each other for a moment, pieces of potato chip falling off his shoulders.
"Karens," he croaked after a bit. "Am I right?"
Wifies didn't even blink.
Parrot momentarily became religious and wished for any god to strike him down, and when none did, he decided that the only way to recover was to hypnotize himself into forgetting the entire thing. He turned around, fighting the urge to beat his brains into the wall, and looked for a broom.
When he found it and went back, Wifies was gone.
Parrot hadn't even heard him get up.
The confusion briefly overrode his embarrassment as he swept up the mess, and as if it had never happened: thus began the second session of silence.
Exactly three more customers came in throughout the remaining two hours of his shift, and the entire time, Wifies did not show once. Parrot would've been worried he ditched him and went home, except Parrot's car was still right out front.
Whatever. Wifies had strange habits—his disappearing act was just another thing he had to get used to.
Parrot spent the last 10 minutes staring at the clock, and even when it only made the time go slower, the anticipation was worth it when finally, it was five. He ripped his vest off in record time and clocked out, not even bothering to wish Wemmbu a good closing shift. The rain had mostly stopped now; all that was left was the tail-end light of the sun, and the comforting drizzle that promised peaceful nights and the smell of morning dew the next day.
He tried not to jump when he walked out to find Wifies leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed and one foot perched against it.
"You look like a pimp," said Parrot. When Wifies' head shot up, grinning immediately, Parrot rolled his eyes. "Let's go."
Parrot didn't ask him where he went, because he didn't care. However, when they got in the car and Parrot turned in his seat to buckle his seatbelt, he had to pause.
"Wifies."
"Hm?" Wifies blinked at him, hands pausing at the steering wheel. "What's wrong?"
His first instinct was to mistake it as a trick of the light—a defense mechanism whenever he wanted nothing to do with another person's problems. But Parrot already knew so much about Wifies that it didn't come exactly as a shock when he leaned closer to rub his thumb against Wifies' chin.
His eyes went wide as Parrot leaned back, smile crooked.
"I thought you were going to kiss me."
Parrot stared at his thumb.
"Don't be so brash," he mumbled.
Suddenly, the weather wasn't comforting anymore, and Parrot felt empty to his core as he observed the red stain on his finger.
"You…" He rolled the words around on his tongue. "…had a bit of blood there."
In his peripheral vision, he could see Wifies freeze.
Parrot didn't understand why—wasn't there a silent agreement in which neither of them discussed how fucked up they were? But there was another possibility, Parrot suddenly realized, that Wifies wasn't as smart as Parrot thought he was.
His jaw ticked, and it was almost amusing to see his eyes dart around as if an excuse would be found in the car. But there were no excuses, because Parrot knew that Wifies knew that he wasn't an idiot, either. That there were only so many coincidences that could be stumbled upon until one came to a conclusion.
One part of Parrot was disturbed at himself for accepting it so easily. But the other, an overwhelming and somewhat embarrassing side of him, was relieved. Relieved that, finally, someone was just like him. Different methods, but mirrored ideologies all the same.
Releasing a deep exhale, Parrot leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes.
"I don't care what you did," he sighed. "I'm tired as hell, bro. Drive."
If someone asked him how he knew, Parrot couldn't answer—but Wifies must have sent him a smile then. And it must have been a loving one, because the emptiness had turned into something sickeningly tender and remained such the entire ride home.
The body was starting to smell.
Not as in it never had. During the first few weeks, it was only obvious when Parrot was near the cooler. A foul odor that couldn't be hidden by the lid, or by freezing the decay, or by moving his futon further to the door. Even when Parrot emptied dozens of air fresheners around the room, it was still noticeable to anyone looking for it.
As in, whenever Wifies opened the door now, the stench would immediately cause him to stumble right back into the railing, an entire room apart. Parrot wouldn't be surprised if, sooner or later, a neighbor would walk by and recognize the scent of death even through the door. Cheap dollar store disinfectants could only do so much, and with that came the bitter realization that the body had to go.
That was what caused Parrot's alarm—not the actual corpse, he had gotten used to it by now—but the realization that he couldn't keep his father by his side forever.
It was a Friday morning, one when even though school was on holiday, Parrot still woke up at 6 AM exactly and could do nothing but stare at the ceiling until the sun was fully up and glaring through his window.
Wifies was gone. Moments like those were especially rare; Parrot couldn't exactly remember the last time he had existed unsupervised since Wifies moved in, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to savor it or not.
This also meant no conversation could distract him from his dead company. This wasn't something ignorance could fix anymore. Parrot slowly stood and approached the freezer. When he opened it, disgust couldn't be felt in the presence of his melancholy.
Disposing of the body was the next chapter of his life, Parrot realized. After this—after he'd burned it, or buried it, or donated every piece for a thousand each—he would never see his father's face again.
Parrot had never mourned before. But now—and this hypocrisy came with a chill traveling from his brain to his cold feet—he was mourning for a man who hurt him, a man who violated him, a man who hated him… months after he had already passed.
It was an unpleasant emotion, to say the least. And there was no one around for him to mirror anything else, so all Parrot could do was sit there and stare until the gruesome sight and terrible smell made his eyes water.
When the door unlocked, Parrot didn't move, and he heard something drop to the floor.
"I guess his stay has gone long overdue."
To find the voice comforting felt like a step into dangerous territory, but Parrot had already crossed that threshold with his hand in Wifies' long ago. He turned to find him taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack, a fast food bag and cup holder in one hand, and a plastic bag full of strange items next to his feet.
"Yeah," is all he said. He turned back to close the lid, not yet willing to take his eyes off it. A pair of arms slithered around his waist, and a chin was propped on his shoulder, but he still didn't speak until he couldn't stand being near it anymore.
Parrot did not know how to dispose of a body.
"I do," Wifies told him.
It was an interesting scene. As Parrot sat down and munched on the breakfast burrito Wifies bought for him, he stared as his father's body left the cooler for the first time since Parrot stuffed him. He could see bugs and critters crawling out, but it didn't matter, because he was too busy trying not to laugh at Wifies' face.
His eyebrows were scrunched, mouth twisted as if he were offended in some way as he looked down at the malformed corpse.
"What?" Parrot snorted around his food. Wifies gave him a look.
"This is the worst job I've ever seen in my life," and he crouched down to trace his fingers up and down the irregular bumps under the skin—the places where the bones were bent and broken to compensate for the tight space. "This work is sloppy and shows no artistic vision at all."
"Holy dramatic," Parrot groaned. "I'm not fucking Hannibal Lecter. God forbid things got a little messy."
"Define little."
Parrot gulped down the last of the burrito and took a sip of his tea. Wifies picked up the body again, apparently cautious about where decaying skin touched living tissue, and pulled it towards the door. He knelt to grab something out of the grocery bag, a grey-looking box, but then it unfolded into five times its size. It had marks, stains, as if he'd gotten it not from a store but from behind a dumpster.
Parrot was perplexed as he began stuffing his father into it.
"What are you doing?"
Wifies barely offered a glance. "Let the professionals handle it."
Parrot didn't know whether to laugh or to grimace at the implication of Wifies being a 'professional.' He was already aware that some fucked up things had definitely happened behind his back—but the question Parrot refused to contemplate was how much the term 'fucked-up' entailed.
Wifies wasn't shy with the hints, after all.
With the body transferred, he closed the compartment with an inconspicuous lock, and then stacked a few more things from the bag on top—smaller boxes, an odd-looking doll, devices and seasonal decorations. It looked like Wifies had just grabbed random items that weren't of use, and was just throwing them away or maybe donating them.
Understanding dawned on him. Oh, that was literally the point.
Parrot stood to open the door for him, and he lingered at the entrance for a while.
"I'll be back," Wifies finally said. "I love you."
He was already walking away, and Parrot took it as a sort of mercy that he wasn't given a chance to think over replying or not. He slowly shut the door and bumped his back against it.
The smell was still there, but already it was fading. Parrot could imagine it; soon, what would be left was the homely scent of his carpet, the artificial scent of supermarket lavender, and no longer would Parrot ever wake up to the constant reminder of death.
It irked him just as equally as it relieved him. Would it take months for him to move on from this part of his life, too? The same way he had grown accustomed to it? Could he really move on normally, knowing that a space as indispensable as a parent's presence was being filled by a boy he had met not even a year ago?
Parrot's brain had a habit of closing up in the face of dilemmas like those.
You don't want to take History? Run away to the bathroom and skip class. You don't want to rightfully take the blame for Spoke and Leo's rivalry? Run away to Planet and see which side tips towards him first.
You despise your dad? Kill him and avoid acknowledging his rotting corpse whenever you have a chance.
It was a bit ironic, with the way that Parrot's father ran from him—they weren't so different, after all.
But now, there was no one to run to but Wifies. Maybe he had orchestrated it. Maybe Parrot let him. Either way, he was at a point in his life where there was nothing else to do but sit and watch the time go by, scroll on his phone or play video games or watch TV, and try not to mull over things he couldn't turn back time and fix.
Wifies didn't return until nightfall.
Sometimes Parrot dreamed.
As a child, and with the fanatical visions that come with that age, they were nothing short of haunting. Two demons standing on either side of his bed with painfully familiar faces—falling face-first into a fiery pit of hell or a witches' brew, only to wake up before impact to another screaming match. Not being able to dream at all because there's a monster in his room, but Daddy says he's just making sure Mommy doesn't kill him in his sleep.
When he grew older, they became less frequent. And when his mind did decide to entertain him, the phantasm disappeared before he could even open his eyes, and the only evidence it ever existed would be the pool of sweat on his sheets and the pounding of his heart against his ribcage. The real nightmare would be afterwards, the split second of not knowing whether he woke his father up, too.
Now? It seemed he had recovered his vivid imagination. Though not at all in the ways in which would have been ideal. Now, his dreams were confusing, and they always left him winded. He found himself floating in an endless, strange grid of blocks, flying with wings he didn't have. He found himself in caves, or in castles, or in lands with impossible structures.
It was almost like his mind had regressed. He wished it were so, too, but it clearly wasn't, because there was always one face that never failed to accompany him.
Parrot shouldn't wake up surprised anymore, because if it was possible to follow him in the real world, then Wifies probably knew how to follow him into his dreams, too.
This is where the problem lay; it'd be an obscene episode of a cold hand reaching inside him, caressing his face, his chest, his legs, all the intimate parts that real Parrot would never offer anyone, but dream Parrot was more than happy to. And Parrot couldn't understand the psychology behind it, but it all felt real—the body heat, the intrusion, the electrifying pleasure, and the kisses peppered up and down his skull. The arousal.
And then he would startle in the real world, taking shuddering breaths and waking up Wifies next to him in the process, but how could he explain that he wasn't having nightmares, but something much more sinister? Much more explicit?
Parrot would like to believe Wifies was unaware, and that he never noticed the tent under his pants whenever he woke up like that, but who was he kidding? Anyone could have seen the neediness he felt lighting his every nerve from miles away, and when he lay back down to sleep, Wifies would tighten his arms around his waist even harder. It would be cruel, because Parrot's self-restraint when it came to grinding his ass back into Wifies was not nearly as powerful as his regular self-restraint for murder, something that was much easier to do after the first time you've done it.
Teenagers have urges. Parrot understood this, and he understood that teenagers relieved their stress by talking about those urges—but who could he talk to? The passing school days had morphed into a mindless blur ever since all his friends began dropping like flies.
Leo, poor Leo, apparently had gotten so bad that he'd have to do virtual for the rest of the year, so Wifies was his permanent lab partner now.
Theo looked like he was on the same track, but they still called every other day, and even Reina had revealed that her family needed to move quite literally the day before it happened, so he only ever ate lunch with Wifies.
Planet hadn't answered any of his texts since fourth quarter started. His absence had hurt the most, because Parrot's known him since diapers, and however big Wifies made himself to fill that hole, it would never be enough.
Parrot could see that it irked him. And Parrot was not an idiot—Wifies had become some sort of infection, entering his life and capturing every piece on his board until he had no choice but to checkmate. No choice but to accept that Wifies was just another aspect of his life, now.
And maybe something more. The kiss they shared back at Zam's party lingered in the back of his mind constantly, so he couldn't help but notice all the methods in which Wifies yearned.
He was not exactly subtle in the way his eyes lingered on Parrot, whether he was looking his way or not. How Wifies drove him around, spent his money on him freely, dressed him when Parrot was too sleepy to do it himself. How, whenever Parrot was plagued by intimate moments that didn't belong to him, Wifies would make sure that Parrot knew exactly how he made him feel, pressed up against his lower back.
It's become a nightly routine, Parrot realized, the week before their finals started on a night when he was so anxious about performance that he could have died. Parrot would lie down on the futon first, and without hesitation, Wifies would slither in right behind him. He would make sure they were connected from head to toe.
Parrot would ignore this. He'd ignore the feeling of eyes drilling into the back of his skull, too, until he fell asleep.
This was a cycle that he had gotten used to, and it was a cycle that would repeat until the day before summer break.
Parrot knew something was wrong before they even entered the complex.
First: the depressing gray of the normally scarce parking lot was disrupted by a very bright, offensive pink. It took until their car was parked for Parrot to realize whose Beetle it belonged to, and for good reason, because it had been nearly three years since he last saw it.
Second: as Parrot's skin slowly turned pale, and Wifies shook his shoulder to ask him what was wrong once they were up the stairs, they were close enough to hear the piercing shrieks of a woman right behind their door.
Parrot hadn't felt this sick in a very long time. After things were going so well, too.
The concern etched across Wifies' face didn't quite reach him. "Who the hell is that?"
"Uh," Parrot said, heart dropping further than he thought possible. "You have to go."
He knew that Wifies wouldn't listen, but it did good on his heart that at least he'd given some sort of warning. It wouldn't have mattered in the end, though, because before the last vowel was even out of his mouth, the door slammed open. A spindly, manicured hand grabbed him by the collar and dragged him inside, before it threw him to the floor.
When his head stopped spinning, he looked up to face the other demon he made the mistake of forgetting. Embarrassingly, he felt himself tremble.
"Where the fuck is that deadbeat?" his mother spat into his face. Parrot could smell the alcohol in her breath and the vomit on her clothes, and he would have gagged if he wasn't frozen in fear. When she leaned back to gesture around the room, it was as if he were allowed to breathe again, and it was a shaky exhale.
"Where'd you hide the damn money," she groaned, stumbling to catch herself as she twirled. She had a fancy dress on, paired with the fancy shoes; Parrot could tell she had found another sugar daddy to poach off of. Parrot tried to recall what number this was, but he couldn't, because she went rigid and whipped around back to him.
"I—," Parrot began, but the terror rendered him foolish, because why would he assume that it wasn't a rhetorical question? What must've been punishment for that mistake was a boot to the face.
It forced him onto his back, and he had approximately three seconds to appreciate how it didn't hurt that bad before his mother kicked him again, directly in the temple. This time, he couldn't help the pained groan that escaped, but that was the wrong decision, too, because it was immediately met with a heel slamming into his guts.
"You're just as,"—a kick to his ribcage—"fucking useless,"—the shoe met his nose, and blood wasted no time to gush—"as that pervert!"
For a moment, Parrot's childhood came back to him, the learned habit of exiting his body and waiting for the outburst to be over. But he didn't have to, because a clang sounded through the air, and his mother suddenly stopped. Parrot watched as she turned to find—
To find Wifies.
Parrot completely forgot about him.
How long had he been standing there, watching Parrot be reduced to nothing but a punching bag? Or did he leave to find that wrench he had in his hand? Either way, the pain was too overwhelming for Parrot to be embarrassed. Wifies' expression was also a bit distracting.
He looked in awe. Like he was watching a fairytale unfold—eyes wide and sparkling, mouth slightly agape. He might have been blushing, if Parrot wasn't already hallucinating from the head trauma.
The unsettlement of it all must have reached his mother, because she faltered when Wifies stepped closer and closer until he was right in front of her.
"And who the fuck are you?"
Wifies stared for a moment, eyes unblinking like they always were.
"I'm his soulmate," he answered.
Then he bashed the wrench into her head.
Time seemed to slow, then. Not exactly halt, because Parrot could still hear the pounding of his heart like drums to his ears, and he could see second-by-second as his mother swayed precariously on her fake Louboutin boots, and he could hear the thud of her body falling to the floor reverberate around the room.
It was like a dream. With the door open, the sunlight bled into the room, interrupted by Wifies' looming figure, whose shadow encompassed his mother's body—likely a corpse, now—bleeding out from her head. The red sunk between the thin cracks of the floorboards and traveled closer in lines, and all Parrot could think about was how it was going to be a pain to clean it out.
Maybe five seconds later, he couldn't even hold that single thought. He couldn't move at all as Wifies stepped around the body and crouched in front of him. He was a blurry presence in Parrot's vision, obscured probably by the pain he could feel everywhere in his body, throbbing like lava.
"Don't cry, Parrot," Wifies said.
When did he start crying? He felt it, then—burning globs running down his cheek, some stopping at his nose, others falling into his mouth. Most being wiped away by Wifies' thumb as he smoothed it across his face, dirtying it with the blood of his own mother.
It took a moment for the pain to subside enough for his frontal lobe to function again, and another for Parrot to remember how to work his jaw.
He could not take his eyes off of the body.
"You killed my father?" he asked, almost surprised when it came out unshaky.
In his peripheral vision, Wifies beamed. "I did."
Did he actually want her to die? Did he want him?
"And—and…" The words were a disgusting, slimy obstruction in his throat. "My friends?"
Wifies closed his eyes and leaned forward to rub their faces together. He smelled like blood, and the shampoo they shared, and the unique scent of his clothes.
"I did."
Parrot felt like he was about to pass out. He was already trembling before, but now he could feel it against Wifies' body as he wrapped his arms around him, and with every tremble came another quick breath, and soon he was hyperventilating.
Wifies cooed and lifted his chin.
"Don't cry," he said again. "Smile, Parrot."
He pressed their lips together, chaste.
"You're safe here."
The sentiment echoed around his brain like a siren, and it was as alluring as the creature too, because all Parrot felt where he expected disgust was a pang of desire and a strange sense of comfort.
All he could do was shake in his arms as Wifies deepened the kiss.
Parrot did not reciprocate it. But he didn't pull away, either.
To Parrot's surprise, Wifies does not dispose of the body immediately. As night falls over the complex, Wifies guides Parrot's bruised body to the bathroom to examine his injuries and push ice against them and kiss them to reclaim the territory. The entire time, the boots of his mother are visible just beyond the bathroom door, and it's a good thing they're right next to the toilet, because he vomits for five minutes straight.
Wifies rubs his back lovingly all the while, and Parrot doesn't try to pretend he doesn't feel his dick pressing against his shoulder.
There is knowledge he never wanted to hold and an impression of Wifies he never wanted to have. A deplorable man, wicked and twisted and wrong, whose love language is synonymous with violence and nothing else.
Parrot is in no place to talk. At the end of the day, both of them are guilty, and both of them will receive their karma. But right now, in this stuffy little apartment, where two murders have taken place, Parrot can only focus on Wifies' fingers raking through his hair, and the buzz of the TV screen.
When Wifies leans down to kiss the juncture of his shoulder, Parrot lets him. When Wifies grabs him by the armpits and pulls him onto the couch, Parrot keeps his eyes trained on Wifies, and not the decaying corpse, not even a room away.
It's all so exposing. Wifies gazes up at him with a soft, knowing smile, and pulls him closer to kiss him.
"Don't pay attention to her," he whispers against his lips, and Parrot almost finds it comical how his ego is threatened by a dead woman. "I'm all you need."
Parrot already knows this. This is why he lets Wifies undress him, why he lets him grab tastes of his skin up and down his body, and why he lets him grip his waist so hard it stings and shoves him onto his dick.
The pleasure is indescribable, and nothing like his dreams. It's even better when Parrot realizes he can't think of anything but Wifies, and it's a startling realization because he also can't remember the last time his brain was this quiet.
Wifies is relentless, as if he has been wanting to do this forever, and Parrot feels his body turn into mush, the world fading away, the only sounds being his own moans and Wifies' feather-light praise that only brings him closer to the edge. The stretch borders on painful, but it scratches the itch deep inside Parrot's core so perfectly that he can only beg for Wifies to go harder, deeper, harder, harder, Jesus Fucking Christ, fuck me to death.
Parrot comes on that thought, and it thunders through his body like a lightning strike. His dick twitches pathetically against his stomach as he dirties both of their chests, and at first the ecstasy is so intense he thinks he'll die. It's not a second later that he's hit with a weightlessness that might be the closest he will ever get to Heaven. Wifies continues to fuck into him, using him as a fleshlight, and Parrot momentarily wonders if this is how his mother felt with all those other men.
He wants to shoot himself as soon as he thinks that.
But the revulsion barely lasts, as Wifies spills his seed inside Parrot, and it's an unfamiliar feeling that leaves him feeling so full and satisfied, and nothing else matters because, in a way, Wifies has finally claimed him in every way that counts.
The night ends with Parrot lying on Wifies' bare chest, fluids becoming flaky between them, but he's too comfortable to care. He doesn't even mind when Wifies doesn't pull out.
"This is giving me deja vu," he tells him, and Parrot is distracted by the rumble of his chest before he processes the words.
When Parrot doesn't reply, he continues: "When you ran away to hide in that awful little forest shed. Do you remember?" He looks down, and Parrot tries his best to make eye contact while buried in his chest. "When Clown was hunting you? We had a quick one just like this, and you let me keep it in as a good luck charm."
Wifies lets out a snort, like the experience was as ridiculous as it sounds. "Didn't work in the long run, huh."
Parrot doesn't remember. Because that never fucking happened. But something has shifted in his mind, to where whatever words leave Wifies mouth must be somewhat of the truth. It doesn't mean Parrot has to understand it; he just has to know.
"I don't remember," he breathes into his chest.
Wifies presses a kiss into his air.
"I figured," he says. "Didn't I tell you? I remember enough for the both of us."
It's a cryptid statement Parrot is too fucked out to decipher, but there are a lot of things that revolve around Wifies that he can't decipher. So he lets Wifies whisper more nonsensical memories into his ear, and falls asleep remembering nothing but the rhythm of Wifies' heartbeat.