Chapter 2--My Buddy Bo

We continue conversing until we reach the entrance of the graveyard. I enlarge my wings and brace my body to leap into the air.

“Oh, you don’t have a car?” Bo asks.

I stop in my tracks. What does he mean?

“I assumed you had a car key on your key chain.”

“Oh! I mean, I haven’t had a car in a long, long time. Flying’s easier and beats putting another car on the road.”

Bo gets a little nervous. “Heheh, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. Been a hot minute since I’ve hanged around an angel or demon. Maybe I just expected you to have a car since most of my clients owned one…”

Must be a laborious worker. I couldn’t do something like that.

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” I assure, turning to Bo with a smile. “You said you got a sweet tooth like mine, right?”

“Oh yes yes! Milkshakes in particular I fancy!”

I think for a moment. That local ice cream shop closed years ago; it had good milkshakes. Same with that cafe. And that burger joint. Oh c’mon, I can’t just take this guy there! Can’t think of anywhere else.

“I know a place with milkshakes, but they’ll probably be just okay and not great,” I answer.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Alright, follow me.”

I leap into the air and, feeling playful, make curves as I swerve into the sky. It’s made me collide into a couple buildings, but hey, it’s pretty fun to do. For being so small, Bo catches up with me in a matter of a second, as if smearing from the ground to my point in the sky. I look at them, and their appearance is now more lanky, nose all wedge-like.

“To be frank—though that isn’t my name,” Bo began cheekily, “I don’t fly all willy-nilly like this very often. I don’t get it. I am a firm believer of ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’.” They then chuckle to themself. “Jack could be anyone, but pretending my name’s Jack for a moment shows I’m rather dull.”

I snicker, though there’s something looming within this statement, at least to me. “I mean, working with clients like that is pretty—ah, trying to find the word—I don’t know, it takes a lot of investment. You have to commit to it, ‘cause it’s your job and stuff. Your job and your… programming.” Ugh, I’m talking like every doctrine senator ever. Thought I was out of talking like that.

They look away for a moment. “I… It’s just peculiar though. I, uhm, usually have some kind of system to deal with that work-life balance,” he speaks lowly.

Don’t be nosy. They’re tense right now and we met twenty minutes ago. They’ve got their own problems and they can have whatever boundaries they need. Just how many elephants are in this room, though? Okay hush, let’s just take it one at a time.

“Good for you, buddy. I don’t really have a good balance of that, heheh. I guess I put some play in the work to make it more tolerable, but I don’t always have free time. I love cooking but man, having to run a cafe and having to manage a demon job is draining.”

“It ain’t a you problem. Every angel hates workin’ too. You guys have a couple regulations, but it seems like it’s a shared experience.”

“I know a lot of humans have that problem too.”

“And you don’t even have to say that; just look at the ground!”

And I don’t even have to look at the ground. I hate being pessimistic, but it’s suffocating to be dishonest. It’s bad down there. Planes of concrete that go on forever and ever. Too many lanes for such a tiny town. If you go far enough, you’ll find some young forests, but they sure are confined. Sometimes it’s boiling out, other times the sky cries profusely. I can’t decide if everything feels too congested or too empty. It really is no better than being in Hell.

But I mean… it’s always been like this, as far as I know. It’s always been bad up here. Well, there was certainly more nature, something still withstanding despite everything.

And it wasn’t even exclusive to nature; every now and again I would see a crevice occupied by someone so much more different than me, expressing a color I had never seen and being able to pursue life out of some kind of love. Sometimes they were like me in ways I did not consider. When was the last time I saw Peppino? He’s still alive, I think. He’d probably be okay if he died today. Hate saying that, as if he’s more fortunate than me. I didn’t talk to him a lot but he had it rough. He probably still does.

And there’s still cars on the road, and the streets are still wide, and I still wonder how much sooner until everything gave way, and still somehow it turned out okay in the end. It turned out okay in the most disgusting sense. At least we got okay transit now… at least.

“It’s so… odd, so baffling,” Bo begins, “I recall from like, a century ago, and it didn’t look this… dead.”

I’m surprised. “It wasn’t always this bad?”

They belt out in a breathy, uneasy laughter. “Oh fu—oh go—g-goodness no. It was bad back then too, just in a d-different way. But nature-wise, it was a lot better.

“So I guess the world always sucked.”

“I’m sorry, if it really isn’t a difficult question for you to answer: How old are you?”

What’s with the subject change?

“Oh! I’m fifty-eight.”

“Fifty-eight…” Bo repeats in awe. Their form slithers into something smaller, their features softening and head getting larger. I can’t tell if they’re sad or at ease from this fact.

Their eyes get slightly larger, looking forlorn. “Gee, that’s pretty young… or maybe I’m just too used to being around angels that are centuries upon centuries old.”

Oh please, Noisette, there’s no need to feel offended from this. It’s just the truth. Angels and demons always get iffy about this age stuff, even though we all come out as adults and live longer than any human could. No, but I… I don’t know, it’s more than that. It makes me feel safe! Like I know better, I’m wiser! Like I can live my life quietly as all those old human folks do! Like I’m just an endearing aunt that nobody would find flattering! And I could just flatter myself and I wouldn’t worry about some stupid job and I wouldn’t…

“Was my comment rude?” Bo asks, worried.

I try to laugh it off. Just shake your head and smile. “A-a little, in a sense. I just… I guess I’m more used to how humans see age.”

I look around my surroundings see if we were close to the parlor, and to also look preoccupied. Just a couple blocks more before we get there. I really shouldn’t be too worried about getting lost, been flying around here for years. Besides, navigating in the sky is easier than in a car. Heh, if flying’s this reliable, then why am I even bothering trying to live like a human?

“You’re a good lady… perhaps I can tell you a secret. I-it wouldn’t be fair to be so closed when you try to be open,” Bo says while uneasy, trying to drag a weakened smile across their face.

As if I haven’t been somewhat closed myself today, too. What do you mean by “secret”, though?

I adjust my focus so I can listen clearly. “Sure. I’ll be your oyster.”

“I will admit… I sometimes act a lot younger than any angel my age should… or an angel at any age. I’m around two hundred and twenty, by the way,” Bo confesses.

I really don’t understand how that’s a secret. Are angels just fixated on “acting their age”, as if anyone could? Haven’t heard anyone want to act younger than what they actually are. Maybe it’s just rare. Us faith-based beings don’t ever experience what it’s like to have a childhood or something; I suppose it was bound to happen that someone would get curious about it. Maybe it… feels safe.

Maybe it’s a fetish.

“Okay—it isn’t a… sexual thing, is it?”

Bo suddenly stops in their tracks and starts to curl into themself. “Nonononono, no no NO!” They crunch up into a ball, their broken heart tail dangling out. A horrified eye notices the tail and Bo swipes the tail to tuck it inside of their body. They looked small and meek, like a child.

Look at what you did! You make bad comments about them in your head and one of them just had to seep out. I thought I was over this! You pervert. Please, let me try, get out of this! You can get out Noisette, c’mon! Don’t fall into this, don’t get sucked in, don’t get lost in the hurricane—

They stopped flying. They’re falling. Don’t fucking touch them with your filthy hands—STOP! FUCK! GET OUT! I need to help; LET ME HELP!

I swoop down to catch them, feeling the wind breeze by me as I descend. I can feel the Earth circling around us, as if it was life and death. It’s not like they would get hurt from the fall, but I don’t know! I can’t leave them! They just… shut down.

C’mon, c’mon—oh thank god. I got him. They’re heavier than I thought they’d be. From the way they flutter about, you’d think they’d weigh almost nothing.

Wasn’t in the nick of time or anything; we were pretty high up. I take a moment to breathe. I can hear their whimpers. I can just barely hear them over the wind. Just barely. And I’m the only one who can hear them. Yet there’s nothing else in the sky to hide us. If anyone looked up, we’d become a spectacle.

I’m not seeing any good private areas besides for some alleyways from up here. Oh wait, don’t those apartments on the down the street—yeah, the apartment roof is much better.

I hastily fly over to the roof, keeping a good grip on Bo. It takes little time to get there and I gently place Bo against the roof’s balcony. They uncurl, but they still cling onto their tail, arms and legs grasping it, as if their life depended on it. Their outlines crumble violently, but they’re practically stagnant. Like cycles of waves, their form is inconsistent, yet they hold the same pose.

It’s mostly quiet here and there isn’t much of an odor. I think they’re having some kind of episode. God, I’m really no therapist, but I have to try something…

I pull out my key chain and start to shake it. We really have no proper basis for our relationship, but perhaps this’ll be familiar to them. Bo lowers their legs from their tail and their eyes gain some life.

“B-bo! It’s alright… I believe you, you’re safe,” I call out as gently as the wind could let my voice be. Under calmer lines, his eyes toddled in his sockets, as if he was attempting to orbit around me. Their proportions fluctuated in rhythm with their unusual breathing.

“I believe you, it’s okay…” and my words start to drift to find just anything. “You’re innocent.”

Bo’s eyes widen and their gaze snaps towards me. Their form fixes to one with a pointed nose and a weak chin, alongside a bug-eyed stare. I don’t like the look of that slightly agape frown. Their pupils quickly dilate and sink into a valley of baggage I don’t know the source of.

“Hey, you good now?”

Their demand is spoken in an emollient manner. “Don’t call me innocent.”

Vacant tubes of coldness flow from my head to my chest and my eyes sag this feeling.

“I-I’m really sorry,” I stammer in order to fight against this horrible circulation. “I didn’t really know what to say to ground you. I wanted to help.”

Bo closes their eyes and exhales from their nose with weight.

“You don’t know the words I need to hear… and I’m still struggling to come to m-my senses… but it’s nice that you tried. I should be sorry for putting so much on you.”

“D-don’t be,” I start to rebute, “it’s on me. I have some experience with being in therapy so I should’ve known a better method—”

“I don’t know anyone else who would’ve helped me, and your words from earlier today do mean something.”

I pause and witness them shift into a huskier form with a slightly droopy face. What loneliness resides in that statement…

“Granted, I might’ve had a client that would’ve tried to help me—but no friend.” I stay quiet for a little while longer.

I let out a nervous remark. “Eheh, it seems like you need much more than just a friend. And I can only provide so much…”

They ignore my first statement and let out a melancholy hum. “But at least you did something. We’re all waiting for someone to do something, and you did it.”

No. Now wouldn’t be the time to interrogate them on that. I probably shouldn’t be the person who does that anyway.

“Maybe it would be better if I wasn’t you friend… I-I don’t know.” I don’t like that idea, but if it’s for the greater good, I’m willing to try.

“No no!” They wave their hands as they shrink down and their nose lengthens. “I-I really want to be friends with you. You seem kind, and I wanna to know you more. You won’t solve everything, but that’s okay. You don’t need to.”

“Alright…”

We stay quiet for a moment, both of us uncertain on what to do next.

“Are you, uh, feeling better now, though?”

Bo smiles gently. “I’m pretty alright, better than before,” they state before tipping their cap, “Bo…” I gotta giggle at that pun. They continue, “okay okay, perhaps it would be of some good to be a little casual about this. ‘Tis very taxing to be open like this, frankly!”

“Hehehe, yeah yeah, that’s fine by me. If you ever want to open up though, I’ll hear you out.”

“Thanks thanks, you’re very generous.” Bo hops onto the balcony and places a hand on their forehead. “Now, where’s that milkshake place you wanna take me to?”

“Oh, it’s a block away from here; lemme show you.”

It takes little time to fly over and well… it’s IHop and I’m not proud of it. Milkshakes are good but these small businesses are a dyin’ breed, and being one myself, I really should help out. I don’t know any humble places that sell milkshakes, so I guess I’m just making do with what I got but I mean… I “need” this even less than a human already does. A couple decades ago I wouldn’t even dream of saying something like that.

“You could’ve just told me you wanted to go to IHop,” Bo remarks as we stand in front of the building. I frown a little.

Bo quickly consoles me. “Eh, it’s water under the bridge and we’re on flying unicorns! Let’s treat ourselves, shall we?” Bo offers me a hand. They’re standing on the ground and they’re way too short for even me, so I awkwardly pat their head instead. They crack a smile at the gesture.

We head in and settle in our seats. We’re in a booth situated next to a window with an unremarkable view. I already know what I want, so I look out the window in the meantime, staring at that parking lot as if I’m in a car and I will pass it at some point.

Admittedly, I am still a little upset from earlier. Yeah, nobody’s perfect, but my friends know me for being such a big help! I helped remind Fakey they weren’t alone, even though I wasn’t exactly like them. Peppino would’ve been much lonelier if we didn’t connect through our… sexual issues. And of course, If I didn’t help Vigi voice train—

I feel it. I can’t think of Vigi… not her. Or Pepperman. No.

I don’t know what Bo has been through, so I really can’t help them at all. Granted, I don’t know them well but… I feel like I should.

“Oh my goodness! They have a caramel milkshake?!” Bo blurts out in awe, slamming their menu onto the table.

“Oh my god, actually?” I flip through the menu and, lo and behold, it’s there. Okay, it does look kinda look good.

“Honestly, I was gonna go for the strawberry milkshake, but I wanna try it now,” I smile cheekily, since I am only so immune to silly sweets.

“Do you wanna share it?” Bo eager asks, stretching their elongated body on the table all the way towards me.

What the hell man, my day’s been a lot so far so I might as well.

“Hell yeah!”

Oh fuck, I just saw someone glare at me.

“hehe, yay!” Bo replies at a comically low volume.

The waiter arrives to our table, as if he came out of thin air. He’s one of those people that got cursed by the tower, doomed to be a Forkknight, it seems. He seems middle aged and talks like a stoner—I forgot that’s a common overlap nowadays. God, I’m old. Not that old, but still.

“Yeah okay, you guys probably want to order now,” he says. It’s hard to tell if he had a vendetta towards us for screaming or simply didn’t care.

“Ah! Yes yes, we do!” Bo replies. “One caramel milkshake would be very dandy! We’ll be sharing it.”

“’Kay. What’s with the onesie, dude? It’s humid as shit out there, no way in god that feels good.”

Bo looks at their outfit for a quick second, then their face gets really serious.

“...I gotta keep derping on.”

“Alright. If you say so. I’ll get your order when it’s ready.” That man was having none of it. Even I crack a smile at harmless customer shenanigans, come on man!

The waiter turns away and Bo giggles, their grin leaking out of the hands they use to hide their face.

“Hehe, I forgot they can’t tell I’m an angel.”

“Well, you weren’t doing anything crazy so I doubt he caught on,” I reply.

Bo enters deep thought for a moment, tilting their head slightly as if something caught their attention. I don’t get it though. I didn’t hear or see anything that would’ve preoccupied them. Their body slightly lengthens in this brief moment, nose gets taller too. The moment ends once Bo flashes an amused smirk.

“I’ll be honest, sometimes my clients don’t even know I’m an angel!”

“How come?”

“Simple! I hide it. And I’m good at hidin’ it.” They answer bluntly. “Prevents some of that ‘religious bias’ from raining some parades.”

“Hm! Well, when I was—uhm, with my experience working for hell, the people I usually work on kinda just… don’t care. I guess I just keep getting people like that, the uh, pleasure-hungry types.”

“I’ve gotten some fellas like that. When they are…” Bo then lets out a frustrated, yet playful groan, “then it’s gonna be a long day.” Strange, this is the tallest I’ve seen Bo get so far.

“You said you try to avoid the ‘angel’ aspect of your work. To be clear, I don’t know much about what goes around up there, but I heard angels are really keen on that conversion motive. Do you ever get in trouble for that kind of stuff?”

“Somehow not really. I have a good streak. Like, really good. Hasn’t gotten me any nice rewards, doubting I’ll ever get any, but they still keep me around.”

No no, I shouldn’t probe him about it. Maybe work’s really complicated for them, and that’s something that really should be discussed some other day. The guy had a panic attack several minutes ago, for Christ’s sake!

“I get ‘ya. They rarely ever treat us good either… you still get some time off don’t you, at least?”

Bo nods, their shaking head morphing their sailor-like hat to have long, rabbit-like ears.

“Kinda, I guess. When you’re on the job, you’re in this weird meditative state where you just circulate through the client’s body, gathering memories and mental processes and stuff. It’s a Stockhausen hum, and I pursue it through wavering through several rivers at once. You’re not working every single second, but you always gotta sleep with one eye open. Out of job, you usually get a very long break until getting a new client.”

“That’s real nutty. But, I meant, like, what do you during your free time? That’s what I should’ve said, my bad.”

Bo briskly smears back into their typical size and places their hands on the table. “Your bad is just fine! Sorry, sometimes I get so caught up in talking about my job sometimes, heheh.”

I laugh softly. “Your bad is no bother to me. Just wanted to keep the conversation lighthearted.”

“Of course! I like to draw from time to time. I’m a sucker for cartoons. Before those were really a thing, I usually just went animal-watching. But the twentieth-century got interesting: weird art, weird gizmos, weird moving characters created through illusions—the whole shebang! That internet stuff stuck out to me the most. People get creative on there, and I can be a part of it in an unprofessional way. It’s real bad on there sometimes, real bad, but sometimes it takes you someplace nice. Also Nyan Cat is freaking awesome.”

“Sounds cool, buddy!” Then it sinks into me. “Oh my god, I never look at stuff on the internet! I usually just read and collect music nowadays. Okay, I never was that active on the internet anyhoo, but I still looked around a good bit. Man, there are some real, heheh, negative-Nancys on there…”

Bo exhales, “And worse, but I needeth not talk of them apples.” They then lighten up, “problems aside, it’s still a blast bein’ a furry.”

“Holy shit.”

Hoo, boy. What a toy of many funny feelings…

“What’s up, buttercup?”

It was nice. I have some bad memories with it… but the idea still makes me smile. Makes me giggle, actually. I’m giggling like a damn kid hiding behind some curtains. And naturally, knowing myself, I end up yowling in laughter.

Bo looks tense. “Y-you’re not laughing at me, are you?”

“Oh—oh no no no! I’m so sorry you just,” my smile is toothy and I look away. “Hehe, it just brought a nice feeling. I used to be a furry myself.”

Bo’s hat shifts and resembles cat ears. “ohmaigodohmaigodohmaigod! Wait wait, I think I remember your fursona!”

“Hehe, yeah. It was a big ol’ cutesy pink bunny. Sorta based them off of those Japanese mascot costumes.”

“WHAT THE HECK THAT’S SO COOL! I didn’t even know that!”

The excitement really got to me. “I KNOW RIGHT?! IT FUCKING—”

The waiter places our milkshake on the table. My eyes dart towards him and he has the most disappointed and exhausted look on his face. He goes back to the kitchen without saying a word. Bo was quiet too, but their smile did not dissipate while mine was gone.

“Perhaps we should tone down our giddiness, hehe. Besides, there are no horses to giddy up,” Bo suggests gently while placing a straw into the drink. I follow suit.

I struggle to let go of my straw’s tip and start rolling it against my fingers. “It was nice doing furry stuff, honestly. I associate it with… a difficult person and that’s probably why I abandoned it one day. But it feels a little cruel to let that interest die in that way. I miss it.”

I take a sip of the milkshake and it’s fairly decent. There’s some chocolate flavoring in it to dilute the saltiness of the caramel. Even then, all the flavor isn’t that nuanced. Things don’t really taste like they used to, now that the world is on life support.

Bo leans forward and extends their body slightly so they can reach the glass and get a good look at me. Their appearance, though strong in its shape and fluidity it is, feels so… real. No pores, no wrinkles, no proper anatomy—but a heartfelt smile still remains.

“If it doesn’t hurt to try again, perhaps you could make new memories for it.”

There’s something about you buddy… you have a way of being very pleasant. You seem like a good friend.

My face is loose, far from tension. It sags a little, but I still smile. “Yeah… I’d like to try that one day.”

Bo takes a sip from the milkshake and their face stretches slightly from confusion. They then furrow their brow.

“Hm! Either car-a-mel is wayyy less salty than I recall it being or it’s just not as good as it used to be. Probably the latter… and not the chute!”

“Yeah, a lot of stuff’s got artificial flavoring nowadays. I can’t tell if people do it to avoid using animal products or because they wanna be cheap.” I take another drink from my milkshake, then I add, “I guess it could be worse though,” I don’t know what I meant by that.

“I suppose it’s one of those moments where the past was actually better at something.”

Bo then pulls out a small sleeve of crackers from a pocket in their outfit. Wait, hold on, I thought—no, why am I confused? I can literally do the same goddamn thing! I sure do spend a lot of time with humans, huh? He pulls out an octagonal cracker from the sleeve, dunks it into the milkshake, and eats it.

“Eh, a little stale. Just how I like it!”

Now this guy has got me thinking.

“How much better did things taste back then?”

He sits back to think for a moment, “Coca-Cola had cocaine in it.”

“Really? I heard about that on a post online.”

“Yeah, me too!” he giggles before blowing bubbles into our milkshake.

“Uhm well, do you remember what some stuff tasted back then? Anything?”

They stop blowing. “Oh, for stuff in the 1800s? Yeah, I don’t know. I’m sure about most of the 1900s, either. I’m pretty sure the working conditions were so bad you just… never had that free time”

“Christ. You’re quite the trooper.”

Bo looks a little sad from my remark. They place a hand on their cheek and laugh wistfully. “Yep! But I’m not a good enough trooper to have nice stuff on the regular.”

I place a hand near theirs. “If you don’t know, I like to cook. I could give you some stuff to try, if you want.”

Bo’s shapes become rounded, their face all pudgy and their nose bulbous. My statement seems to have incited a pleasant curiosity in the guy.

“Oh Noisette, I shouldn’t pressure you to keep a promise,” they playfully allude before sucking down the rest of our milkshake.

“I’m willing to keep a promise.”

Bo’s nose gets all spindly and their head arches from my response. Their body looks tense, but they still smile peacefully. They nod their head as their sharp angles soften.

“You’re a good lady, very very nice.”

This incites something playful in me. I’ll let it slide this time.

“You’re a good guy yourself.”

“Oh please! I’m cheating! I’m wearing my goody-two-shoes right now!” He pulls out one of his scrawny legs with ease. They are not wearing shoes. Their onesie covers their feet.

“No way! Me too!”

We share a spell of giggling as our waiter brings over our check. I pull the check towards me.

“Bo, do you want to split the check?”

A rush of embarrassment in Bo causes them to cringe, their eyes darting towards the waiter for a moment.

“Sorry, I can’t… heheh,” They meekly reply.

“That’s alright,” I tell them as I sign the check and place my card. “It really isn’t a big expense.”

The waiter takes my card, granting another moment of privacy. Bo lowers their head and taps their fingers on the table.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any human currency since my apartment’s in heaven.”

If housing sucks in Hell, it probably sucks in Heaven too. Residing in reality is one damn good luxury. Okay, it’s also a massive, miserable responsibility, but it’s so romanticized by a lot of religious creatures. Makes sense though. There’s essentially no recreational outlets—at least down there—so everyone either sleeps or works. It’s tough up here too, but at least I can have a night out or own a place of your own. Even then, how much do I really “own” my apartment here, anyway?

“I see. You gonna head back there when we finish hanging out?”

Bo frowns and they look towards the window.

“How about we talk about that when we leave this place and head somewhere more… private?”

“That’s fine by me.”

We finish our business and head outside the building. We return back to the gray outside world and Bo swiftly looks around to see if there’s anyone else around. Nobody else in sight, at least for right now. They sit down on a nearby bumper in the parking lot, saying not a word. No, there’s probably no need to prompt them to confess; they seem to be anticipating their own response. Bo lets out a sigh.

“I’ll be frank, I really am considering quitting my job. It’s taxing.”

“I see. But, being purposeless—I mean, unemployed is a big trouble too.”

Shame on me for that damn slip.

I continue, “Do you know anywhere else you could find a job? I know you aren’t treated the best by everyone else, but being a guardian angel is a pretty well regarded job, isn’t it?”

Bo anxiously placed their hands over their face, shrinking down a couple inches. “A job like a guardian angel should make it easier to find one… but I doubt it will.”

“Yeah. It’s a freak show out there.” I sit down next to Bo, his expression softening when I do so. He looks frightened by something in his vision; is it me or something in his head?

“It’s traumatic,” Bo sighs with a terrible weight. They scoot away from me. I’ll let them have the space. I wait for them to add anything else.

“I’ll be honest,” they begin, “I desire to ask something… demanding.”

Don’t give me a pit in my stomach. I don’t even have a stomach. I can just say no if it’s too much.

“I don’t feel safe going back to heaven. I’d like to have some time away from it, probably for however long it’ll take for me—no, that’s too much. For a couple days. A couple days will do, yeah. Is it okay if I just… stayed at your place for a while?”

Of course. No. But he’s an angel; they don’t need to eat or drink or whatever! The only thing they need is sleep! There’s no way in god that Bo would be as much of a hassle that Thea was. But you don’t know them. They may know me more than I know them, but they are just a coworker I want to befriend. A coworker that isn’t even from the same company as me. A coworker who happens to be eccentric like me and struggles with a crappy job like I do. Maybe they had a facade on earlier to make it seem like their job was less miserable than I thought. Or to not get worked up in public. But it seemed… genuine.

Bo gets nervous from my silence. “A-again, I have my own space, so it isn’t a must, just… I’d rather have some distance.”

Can the voice in my head that’s in bad faith just shut up? I guess I should ask the same for the one that’s too eager to help, too. Always trying to be so good, but then I beg to be in their life. And then I can’t help but let something mean slip into my—don’t wallow. Just for a moment. Don’t wallow. I’ll let them stay, but I’ll try to see if I can learn anything else about their relationship with the Noise. That’s too much, just make sure they don’t overstay their welcome. I’m sure Bo will be watchful too.

Bo’s mouth is wide and full of clenching teeth. They ease their expression when I offer an open palm.

“I think I have a spare room in my apartment.”

Bo’s face thins out as they gain a small smile. They shake my hand.

“You’re too generous. I’ll make sure to not dilly dally and stay for however long I need.” They pause. “You don’t do any work from home, do you?”

“Nope. Actually was able to merge my hell job with my human job. I’ve got my own cafe and stuff! Heheh, it’s a—it’s certainly a thing!”

“Dang, good deal!”

“It’s still like, a lotta work, but I think if you want to just chill out or something, I can find a bit of time.”

“Don’t stretch yourself thin!” Bo chimes. “Whatever works for you.”

Hours have passed and Bo is still settling in my apartment. They did not bring much from their apartment, only bringing a bag of personal items. The spare room used to be the Noise’s room until we broke up for good… I’ve made it into a guest bedroom now. I think most of her old things are gone, outside of whatever I stuffed elsewhere in my apartment.

They’re rather quiet, huh? Even before I told them I was settling down for the night, they weren’t that loud. I guess it’s just uncanny; Noise would play on his keyboards at night sometimes. There were those moments where I’d wake up at some odd hour and he’d be talking to someone I could not distinguish about a topic that I did not have the context for. God, the smell too. I could smell her smoking deep into the night, too. I can’t believe that room doesn’t smell like that anymore.

I don’t know if I like that the smell’s been gone for years now. She was a nightmare; she had issues that I could never solve. But I really could’ve done better. There had to been some kind of solution to those faults. And I forget that sometimes. Dare I say it feels nice when that happens, to have one less worry that just makes life feel more mundane. But then I get into a certain mindset and then the lack of odor feels wrong. It feels like there’s dead wind grazing through a hole in my body, or like the world is depriving me of something. Then it just feels like everyday.

I remember when she came back. The wind was terrible. I would get set off by some daily gnat and I would crawl to her, and I would kneel. I hated it, but it was so hard to overcome. I was free of the job, but not of the identity. I would dream of other things to be, I pursued them, and they would make me happy—but wind still blew. And I kept kneeling, kept getting close to her.

There would be some moments where I would try to stop, try to get my bearings and be the better person, but this would set him off. He would tear up and get fidgety, beg for me to listen to this “instinct” for there was nothing else that could remedy it. “It has to be a sign,” he would say. “If you want to be with me, then be with me. Besides, it’s hard to live without it on my end, y’know?” And I would comply. And it never brought relief.

I can’t do this. I have to go to bed; I have work. I have to run away from this tangent… for now. I’ll just read a little before bed and it might just float away. If it doesn’t… I’ve slept with stress before. I can manage.