Chapter 5--Lost in the Ages

Honestly, I never knew how much I needed some excitement in my life. That good kind of excitement, that kind that gets you a little distracted. It was like that with my cafe once upon a time, but mundanity does what it does eventually, and it makes you wish you were younger. Thankfully, you don’t need to get younger for things to be nice again. Sometimes you just need somebody new in your life. Somebody to, I don’t know… just be a friend with! That and, helping you cover your skin at work.

My workforce was pretty small already, so I ended up having to juggle a couple things. I was a one-woman-band a long time ago… now I got an extra cook and Bo. Bo sorta just does everything, huh? Not really cooking, but a lot of the little things. I guess that’s fine, but it’s weird to see someone else do it. I think it’d weigh me down more if didn’t need the help that much.

I guess it doesn’t weigh down Bo that much. They usually seem very concentrated. They’ll dispose the facade once break time starts, and they still put on a smile when on the job, but it’s not like they’re super excited to be here or anything. Honestly, it would be weird if they were super chipper all the time. It would make the fact they’re hiding something all the more eerie.

We’re nearing the end of the shift, thank god. It’s not even five and the sun’s starting to set. Makes me feel like I’ve been here longer than I actually have. That, and not getting many viable customers today. I gotta stop saying “viable”; it sounds creepy, like I’m gonna inject strangers with mystery fluid. Target? Susceptible? I guess nothing’s gonna help how creepy my job gets sometimes.

Bo’s sharing my boredom too; they’re cleaning up a table, but I can see their eyes slightly slouch. It’s weird seeing them look this—wow, there is not a nice way to word this. Can’t do anything about it—he looks oddly human. And they treat it like a uniform, probably because it’s hard to hold the form for long. It makes sense but like… there’s something about, something that makes me feel weird. Not in a bad way, though. I hope.

I think it’s the hair—I think they’re cornrows? He’s been donning the hair outside of work too; they must like it. I like it too.

Goddammit—the wardrobe! The wardrobe and the height! They’re literally taller than me and they’re wearing that pink apron and like, a two-piece outfit! And they’re walking around instead of floating! And I focus on the hair! I’m a weirdo.

Bo puts away their cleaning supplies and leans on the check-out counter. I’m hunched over next to the cash register. They got a yellow neckerchief on instead of the usual “cape tapers in the mouth” and they’re still wearing that hat. Their facial appearance still changes, but there’s no need to point out the obvious. Bo’s still Bo. I like the sausage nose they currently got going on though.

“We aren’t closing until thirty minutes, right?” Bo asks, turning to face me.

“Yeah. It’s been slow today. I don’t think anyone else is coming in,” I speculate.

There’s no way anyone’s coming, let alone a good, sizable group. Perhaps we should treat ourselves and cut some slack.

I smile, somewhat slyly at Bo. “But hey, who’s to say we can’t close early? I’m the owner, and I’m fine with it.”

“I dunno. I haven’t hit my quota yet… I mean there’s still time but… I wanna be able to thank myself later, y’hear?”

“Yeah, better safe than sorry,” I sigh with acceptance. Doesn’t feel right though. “Okay well, I-I’ll admit I don’t like seeing you work too hard. You already do a lot already.”

Their face softens up to a rounded shape, hands going limp as they slightly raise their arms. They’re touched by my comment, but they try to play it cool. “Hehe, no need to worry about me… I have my ways.”

Well, I’ll be. Bo’s gonna get an opportunity here! They’re kinda old, 30s or something—you don’t see that many young people that often. Good god, you can just sense the unrest in their souls. Smells like a wet dog. I think it’s the guy with the girlfriend that smells like that. Got his hand on her waist, but the smell—that puppy never lies! That other guy, third wheel or something, smells iffy too. We could work with this.

Bo swerves to get behind the counter and I greet the customers. “You guys got crazy timing; it’s almost closing time!” I joke. Bo’s still trying to get a read on the situation, it seems. If my friend didn’t need this, this would’ve pissed me off.

The girlfriend laughs. “We made the choice sorta on a whim, honestly. All of three of us were driving home from visiting some friends and we decided to make a stop here since I wanted to come here for a while now. I’ve seen this cafe online and it looks nuts, hehe…”

“I can’t say no to her. Gotta treat that girl right!” The boyfriend chimes in.

“You guys got an idea of what you want today, yet?” I ask.

“I don’t wanna hold y’all up. I’ll just take a drink—the strawberry chai, 12 ounces please.”

“I’ll take a butterccino, I guess,” the boyfriend requests.

“…I want a plain iced tea,” the third wheel finally speaks.

“You want that with or without gummies?”

“Without?”

I don’t get why anybody wouldn’t want gummies in their tea, but everyone’s got their opinion.

“Alright, and that’ll be $15.89 with tax!” They pay for their drinks and I continue, “just take a seat anywhere and we’ll serve you up!”

The group heads to a booth near the corner and start conversing.

I lean over to Bo. “I’ll go easy for you with this one. I’m pretty sure I’m good with my quota.”

“That’s nice, but you gotta still put up some kind of effort. If you go easy consistently, that’ll make the higher ups suspicious…” Bo whispers back, keeping an eye on the group.

That’s much of a problem I have; I don’t wanna go overkill on that. It’s a tough balance. Gotta look out for my buddy, but I can’t look out for them too much. Oh well, such is the life of a demon.

This is a pretty weird situation, anyway. The boyfriend wants to pursue some other person despite performing the facade quite well, and the third well definitely wants that girl. With matchmaking, you gotta hit that sweet spot of satisfying their fantasies while also placing them on a meaningful path. If this wasn’t my job, I’d leave people be, but it could be worse. Since I’m not an angel, the “solution” isn’t much of a moral one. Honestly, it could go many different ways. They could break up, third wheel gets the girl, the two guys get together—but what to go for?

Breakups are usually a no-go for my business; I have to keep the image of this being a hook-up place. Usually, I have a large pool of people to rely on, but it’s only just these three. Well, no matter what happens, a breakup is happening, so I can only be so clean! At least the breakups don’t happen in the building… usually. Fuck it, I’ll go third wheel with the girl. Doesn’t matter if me and Bo end up creating the same match; it just matters whoever gets it first and using the right ingredients.

My chef ended his shift an hour ago, so it’s just me and Bo. Bo has gotten to work on the ice tea. Okay shit, I gotta put in an effort.

I start working on the chai. Just do my typical duty, but make sure to add the kicker. Got the water boiling; I think I should add the Magus-Librus for this one. An oldie, but a goodie. I squat down to the lower cabinets below me, opening one of the doors and pulling a key from my key-chain to open a box tucked in the corner of the cabinet. Thank god my archive isn’t luminescent like Bo’s. The fact that it’s pitch black makes it so much easier to hide. Too bad mine’s all fuzzy and sometimes scares the dickens out of poor chef Pierce. He keeps mistaking it for a thick clump of cobwebs somehow getting in here, can’t blame the guy for the misconception.

Okay, lemme see here. Felonious, thorns of love, rubber abstraction, pervert bomb—there it is! Almost out of my Magus-Librus… better add that to my list.

I pull out the vial of Magus-Librus as I wait for the kettle to whistle. What’s Bo doing?

Oh damn, they’ve got the iced tea almost finished. What are they adding? Most angel ingredients are really bright, little pieces of light, so it’s hard to distinguish them—is that Dual Antithesis? He’s gonna get the guys together! Okay okay, this could lead to something messy. But I don’t wanna take a match from them! But I can’t just dump this drink out!

The kettle shrieks. Alright, just go with it. If you get to the buttercino first, you might be able to advert the crisis. As I’m about to add the Magus-Librus, I turn my head just a moment to see Bo looking at me and we lock eyes for a moment. We share a grimace of embarrassment.

Snap out of it, snap out of it—gotta get my ass working on that order! Jesus, it does not have to be this stressful! I’m fine on my quota! I can’t be a cheater though! Fuck, do something man!

Okay okay, gotta look through my chest. Do I have any leftover Two-Facers? My hand scrambles around the chest, trying to feel what I have around. God god, I don’t have time to rummage around—oh thank the fucking stars there’s a couple left. I quickly nab a sample and shoot up to see what Bo is doing.

Fuck, they’ve started work on the buttercino. That’s a lost cause unless I literally fight over it, and I don’t want to do that. The iced tea is just on the counter. Maybe if I—FUCK! The Chai! I’m holding the Magus-Librus too; that just slipped out of my mind!

I rush over to the kettle and start brewing the tea, dabbing the Magus-Librus vial to season the drink. As I wait for the tea to stoop, I try to swiftly and sneakily approach the drink. Look around, customers are chatting, and Bo’s still working on the buttercino. You can only open a plastic cup lid so quietly, but I gotta try. The lid makes stuttered creaks as I peel back the lid slightly. I slip a Two-Facer into the opening and snap the lid back in, then use the straw to stir the ingredient in.

I peer over my shoulder as I’m stirring, and… Bo looks back at me. They squint their eyes as they try to process what I’m doing. Shit, stir quieter, stir quieter…

I hear them groan heavily. They sound somewhat defeated. I hate this job.

Stay focused. I should check on the chai. It seems like it’s brewed; it should be fine to serve. I put on the drink’s lid and sleeve, placing the drink on the counter afterwards. Not too long after me, Bo finishes the last drink and I carry the drinks to the customers on a tray.

“Here’s your chai, your buttercino, and iced tea!” I state as I give each person their designated drink.

“Ah! Thank you!” The girlfriend chimes.

The guys just make vague gestures indicating a thanks.

I head back towards the counter to join Bo, who is observing the small group from afar. They don’t look happy. I mean, they’re pretty mellow on the job, so I don’t really know what’s going on.

I stand beside them, joining in on the observation. “Man, this situation turned out tricky. I’m sorry,” I softly apologize to them.

“This would’ve been a lot easier if we had more customers now,” They reply. It usually doesn’t get this chaotic whenever there’s more customers around. For the most part, we can split our paths and get matches without interrupting each other.

“Yeah… it really just got messy cause we had the same target.”

“What did you even add? I only did two Dual Antithesises for the two guys’ drinks.”

“Well, I was just gonna do two Magus-Librus for the girlfriend and the third guy, but then I saw what you were doing, and then I had to backpedal what you were doing in order to prevent a mess happening, so I snuck a Two-Facer into the iced tea, and… now we’re left with this gamble.”

And we likely aren’t going to see the end product of it, for better or for worse. This job is always a huge gamble. It never fails to keep me on edge.

“Hmm I see… I mean, even without the Two-Facer it still would’ve likely caused some discord. No matter what, someone’s gonna get their heart broken, but whoever it’s gonna be is mostly up to chance.”

I turn to Bo, “I hate situations like this. I hate having to work against you. Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, trying to look for some kind of loophole so we don’t have to get feisty like this?”

“I’d rather keep my record clean as I can than end up getting caught for some kind of loophole,” they retort cryptically.

I look at the counter. “That’s fair… but I hope things get better at some point though.”

I feel their hand touch my lower back, making sure to avoid touching my wings. “If it doesn’t get better, maybe it’ll become more manageable instead,” he suggests hopefully.

Once the customers finally leave, we start closing up the cafe. Doesn’t take too long since we were starting to warp things up before those last three came in. When everything’s all set, we shut off all the lights and I lock the front door. I can see the reflection of the evening sky on the front door. The sky is careening completely into blueness, but splashes of purple are still present in the sky and everything is still fairly visible.

Got the door locked. Lemme get a better look at this sky; it’s very nice. A lot of the clouds sorta just blend with the blue parts of the sky. Don’t think there’s that many clouds around anyway; it was pretty clear today. This is pleasant though. I’ll toy with that human-y kind of faith and say maybe this sky is a nice reward after our rough and boring shift.

“Man, it’s nice out,” Bo remarks. “Granted, I can only see so much ‘cause it’s dark out… but what I see right not looks good.

I turn my head towards Bo. They’ve changed back to their regular form, tiny and floating like usual, still got the haircut they had before. Usually Bo went plain ol’ bald—unless there’s some hair hiding under that hat and I never knew—so I wonder they’ve been letting it out. They’re never consistent with their form, so it’s a bit of a mystery. Not that it really needs to be solved though…

“How about we walk home since it’s pretty out? It isn’t too far away.,” I suggest.

“I’m down for that!” Bo then chuckles and stands on the ground, “the only condition is that you’ll have to be my guiding buddy.” They offer their hand for me to hold.

Something about the gesture makes me feel tender.

I grab onto their hand.

I honestly expected their hand to be much warmer. They’re lukewarm. Well, humans feel colder to me, but…

“Your hands are cold,” they blurt playfully.

“All demon hands are cold, haha! Are angel hands usually lukewarm like yours?”

Their smile weakens. “S-sometimes.” They then turn away and get a head start. I start walking with them.

One of those things Bo’s not ready to talk about, I suppose.

Lemme walk a little faster so I can help guide them in the dark. I end up slightly tugging at their arm once I get ahead. A couple moments pass by and they tug at my arm back, like they’re trying to get my attention.

“What’s up?”

They snicker. “Oh nothing. Just derpin’ around.”

I gently tug at their arm again, and they tug back, and I tug back—it goes for a couple rounds as we share a couple lighthearted laughs. Oh Bo…

When the laughter dims down, I make an observation. “Hey dude, you still got your hair out. You usually don’t have hair in your regular form.”

“Oh! Hehehe I mean… do you not like it?”

I panic. “No no! Not at all—like, it’s not a problem or anything. It’s just something I noticed, I uhm,” I get a little weirdly tense, “I think your hair is… nice. I like it.”

I’ll be honest, I’m a little fond of the haircut. Like, it changes something about them. It’s kinda uncanny. Without the hair, he just looks like a cartoon, but something about it… it’s like their soul is peeking through. Not that Bo never felt warm or “human” without the hair but… I like it. I like it a lot. And if I don’t admit to the feeling, it’ll kill me.

Bo’s expression is fairly delicate now. There isn’t a smile on their face, but it seems more to be a result of their muscles relaxing rather than sadness. “I’m glad you like it. I like the look too. Y’know, with my old job as a guardian angel, you had to look like your client whenever you were working with them, some kind ‘marketing thing’. Can’t usually have my regular hair out because of it, and my old coworkers were uh, kinda mean about it too.”

“Your old coworkers are squares with no taste. Glad they’re out of your hair.”

“Pun intended?” They cheekily ask.

“I didn’t consider that… but I’ll intend that pun now!”

We share a bout of laughter.

“Heheh, I don’t know. I guess I started having my hair out ‘cause it’d be a good look for when I’m on the job, but I don’t know… I just wanted it out,” they explain before easing into dreaminess. They then burst out a silly tone to add, “you’re just a very nice lady!”

“I’ve been told I have a nice presence.” Vigi told me that a lot in particular.

“And you’re right!”

I don’t remember the last time I heard that. Then again, I’ve been pretty lonely in recent years. Yeah, I still see some neighbors and friends and whatever, but I’d home and there was no one else there. And I’m used to someone being there.

I mean, it’s not like nobody really has told me that I don’t have a nice presence. Lately. Not in the past thirty years pretty much. I mean, people sometimes said I was “noisier than the noise,” so that must say something! It’s been thirty years though. I sure did get quiet in those thirty years.

I guess change and recovery do things to people. You can’t take back the past and you gotta leave things behind to improve. Ironic how I became less “noisy than the noise”. Kinda miss being noisy. Like it did me any good. Maybe it’s better to stay quiet sometimes.

I don’t feel Bo’s hand. Where are they? I swing my head around to catch any sight of a white glow. All angels glow.

I don’t see them.

“Bo?” I holler.

No response.

I’ll try retracing my steps.

After walking for several seconds, I end up seeing a white glow in an alley I pass by. It’s one deep alley. Hard to see anything else in it, but it looks very unkempt. Not any place I’d want to walk through normally. At least I can turn into something scarier than any mugger than hangs around there. Sure does scare the catcallers too.

I speedily walk through he alley to get closer to the glow. It is Bo! They’re doing nothing… just standing there.

I crouch down and tug at Bo’s shoulder. “Hey man, I’m sorry. I got lost in thought and didn’t notice you—”

I get a glimpse of their face. Constricted eyes and a gaping mouth, almost like the vacant expression of a fish. Their body feels cold. I faintly hear them breathing. They’re clearly looking at something though. What’s bothering them.

A dying light in the alley illuminates the issue in question. I forgot how big that thing was. When you see it clinging on telephone wires or basking on top of a building, it doesn’t look that big. I’m so used to seeing this thing from afar… it really looks like that?

I mean, it should’ve caught my eye sooner. He’s garrishly colored—pink chest, red legs, blue feathers.

I knew. I was just lying to myself, as if it does any good. He’s so hard to miss… but I never really think about him when I see him, like he belongs with the scenery. But now I am thinking about him; I have no choice, really. I forgot how out of place he really was, even when everyone around you looks stranger than they did before.

The beast turns around, somehow fitting in the alley. How deep his scowl is. His eyes are just endless pits of nothingness that lead to nowhere—yet I feel like I’m being watched. Its teeth are unnaturally straight and his jaws are wide enough to expose that he has another pit of nothingness guarded by his teeth. I hear it breathe, a sound reminiscent of a hollow wind and a dying throat. The sound is weak and quiet, as if we were more of a threat to it than it is to us.

He leans forward laboriously, much too closely, to get a better look at us. I can see that his eye sockets are are filled with dark, fleshy spirals that eventually lead to two steady eyes at their centers. I try leaning away, but his gaze follows me without his eyes moving not even a muscle. It’s nauseating to look at—not because it’s macabre, more because he’s like some kind of optical illusion that I can’t unsee.

He moves closer to Bo. Bo’s eyes follow the beast and nothing else. Is it sniffing them? I hear it faintly snorting.

Suddenly, he asserts his nose right onto Bo’s ahead and takes a deep whiff that transitions into a wheeze. Peddito’s mouth opens and the sound of the hollowest wind is released. The horrid wind keeps wheezing, almost like it’s transitioning into a horrid hurricane—but it just stops. Peddito raises their head up and finally speaks.

“You are… unfamiliar to me.”

His voice is unusually calm, so quiet, a whisper that creaks almost coyly. I’m tempted to call it polite.

Bo does not answer. I don’t know what to say. What could there be to say?

“Are you new around here? I can tell you’re very old.”

Bo’s eye twitches.

Peddito gets close again.

“You smell… odd… like somebody I knew a long time ago.”

Somehow Bo’s pupils constrict even more.

“It’s rude to not reply to someone talking to you, dare I call it misconduct.”

What am I doing? We have to leave. This won’t go well. I grab onto Bo’s hand, but I don’t do anything else.

“I’ll let you go with a warning… but you know the law of the land. Or maybe you don’t. It’s quite hard to tell with someone like you.”

He then crouches and raises his wings, looking like he’s about to lunge towards us before leaping into the air and flying off into the blue distance.

I breathe heavily for a couple moments and look at Bo. I see them tremble and finally let a short, restrained whimper before they lost their footing and collapse. I catch them in time, so they didn’t hit the ground. I doubt he can move right now. I’ll just carry him home… and I’ll try to be quick.

I take a running start and enter the air, starting the flight back to our apartment.

Alright, almost there. God, it was nerve wrecking flying all the way here, knowing that thing was in the sky too. I have no idea what it feels about me; what if it mauled me if I even moved an inch in front of it? Or hell, with Bo? But… there’s no way it’d go after them, right? Peddito is an awful beast but… he only goes after the Doise. It’s not fair, but it ain’t us too. Bo isn’t cursed. I’m not cursed. That doesn’t mean I don’t care—I always care! I care too much! Don’t get carried away. It’s good to care too much. You only got so much room to talk. You’re not the one who’s cursed.

I awkwardly reach into my pocket to grab my keys while not accidentally dropping Bo. I can hear them breathing. I manage to open the door without and trouble. Once we’re in, Bo starts squirming, prompting me to gently place them back onto the ground.

They stand there for a moment and let out a weighted exhale. He starts shuffling towards the living room; I think he’s heading for the couch. I try to talk to them as they walk towards the area.

“Bo, are you okay? That encounter with Peddito was—”

They let out an anguished, yet meek groan and fall face first onto the carpet.

“Bo?”

The tip of their tail suddenly turns red. Their colors become more saturated and their outlines shaky. Their hat gained an extension reminiscent of those animal hats with the hand pockets on them… I’ve never seen their hat do that. It’s like they got both cat and dog ears on their hat.

Bo gets up with not much issue. They look around, almost acting like they’ve never been in my apartment before. They suddenly notice me and are slightly taken aback. Their eyes are large and sparkly.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything from me?”

“Oh…” They finally reply, sounding somewhat confused, like they were some kind of stranger who was asked directions for a nearby store. They place their hands behind their back. “C-can you uhm, can I have something to draw with?”

Bo draws sometimes; I’m sure it’ll help soothe him. I think I might have some blank paper in my printer.

I head over to my office and open up my printer to check for any spare paper. And indeed there is. I nab a couple slips of paper and swipe a pen and pencil from one of my pen holders. Hold on, I got a bunch of other fun pens around here, glitter pens and gel pens and that kind of stuff. I used to have one of those multicolored pens, but it ran out of ink some time ago. I grab a couple more pens and a clipboard, then head back to the living room.

“I don’t really draw myself so I don’t got anything crazy but… I hope these work out for you,” I clarify as I give Bo the drawing supplies.

“Oh, these are good. I like drawing with these,” they assure blankly. They go straight to drawing, but the transition is fairly slow. It’s weird. Bo’s usually a pretty swift fella… maybe he’s still shaken up. After all, it’s like they say: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I guess “play” can also be taking a breather.

Speaking of breathers, I need one. I’ll just plop down on the couch, I guess. Somehow I feel more tired after saying that. Probably a sign I should go and do that.

I fall onto the couch with my limbs splayed, letting out an exhausted sigh. It’s pretty quiet. On any other occasion, Bo and I would be absolute chatterboxes, but it seems like we both need some quiet. I’ll sit with it. Stare at the ceiling, do that meditating thing, I guess.

“What are you doing?” They ask, curiously.

“I’m not sure. I thought sitting with the quietness would be helpful.”

“You’re doing nothing?”

“Well… I guess I could meditate or something.”

“I don’t know about you, but I like to do something nice when things get rough. Maybe you could try it too?”

“Like… draw with you? Do you want that?”

They get a little nervous. “No… I didn’t mean that. Like listening to music, or watching something, or playing a game… stuff like that.”

That does sound nice, not gonna lie.

“I might play something on my music player, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s ok, but nothing scary. Nothing with bad stuff in it, okay?”

Bad stuff? I know Bo liked to keep a filter on things, but—wait a minute.

I will admit… I sometimes act a lot younger than any angel my age should…

Oh.

I see. It’s not wrong I just… I don’t know how to feel about it. Like, it’s fair for them to do that—it’s very clear it’s innocuous—but… I don’t know. I might’ve heard of people doing similar stuff online; I never really considered I’d ever see in it person, I guess.

Not a problem. Don’t linger on it. Lemme pick out something to listen to.

I headed to the shelf neighboring my TV to look through my CD collection. Let’s see… man, I would love to hear Doopee Time again, but I don’t think I’m in the head-space for that. Jun Togawa would just be… awkward. Salami Rose Joe Louis would be fine probably, but I doubt spacing out is a good thing to do right now.

I gotta stop playing around. I wanna listen to Fantastic Plastic Machine. I wanna listen to Luxury. I miss it. I mean, if there was a time to self indulge it would be now. Sure, I’ll make that time now. Live a little, girl.

I take Luxury out of its case and insert it into my CD player. I adjust the volume so it’s fairly moderate. The album’s not that noisy, though I don’t think Bo wants to hear anything loud.

I feel some relaxation wash over me as that bright, sampled intro track pops into existence. It feels unapologetically me, even though I didn’t make it. Spontaneous, jazzy, full of movement… always reminds me of a better time.

Not really.

But I like it! I love it, even! One of my favorite albums ever! It’s in the past; I’m a better woman now. It still sucks that Thea had to be the person to introduce it to me.

And I could sing back then. I could sing and I was curious about doing more than singing. I could’ve done something more if Thea didn’t… put me in a box.

Okay, but how much could she actually do that? I was the one earning most of the money, anyway. If I wanted to, I could’ve financially deprived her. I wasn’t the one sick with guilt. It was good that I left.

The album begins,"there must be an angel playing with my heart…"

She was hurting me, and I could’ve hurt her. Let it go.

“I walk into a room, and my heart goes ‘boom!’ It’s an orchestra of angels…”

Let it go.

“...and they’re playing with my heart.”

What’s Bo drawing? They’re pretty huddled up around that clipboard, hard to see anything without being a snoop. There’s nothing else to do, I guess. I hate reading with music on and I hate looking at my phone. I scoot over to the other side of the couch to try get preoccupied with, I don’t know, something.

From what I can see, it’s the usual furry stuff from Bo. It looks pretty good. That’s kinda funny. You pretend to be a child and go off and draw, only to draw like an adult. The lines look a little shaky, but I don’t have the best view, so who am I to judge?

I see their eye slightly deviate. Once they catch a glimpse of me, they snap their head at me and let out a quiet gasp. “W-what are you doing?” They ask.

Fuck, I must’ve looked like a weirdo doing that.

“Oh uhm, I couldn’t really think of anything else to do, so I’m just watching you draw. Can I see what you’re making?”

They frown and hug the clipboard, which almost covers their whole body. They remain silent.

“If it’s really personal or whatever, you don’t have to—”

“No no, it’s not. I just—I get shy.”

I guess they’re a lot more sensitive when they get like this.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to show me. I’ll find something else to do and try not to bother you, okay?”

“M’kay…”

I won’t die if I have music on while I read one of my books; I’m getting too lazy right now. I got that novel I’ve been chipping away at lately on my coffee table. That’s pretty lighthearted, wouldn’t hurt to read it.

I pick up the book and flip to the page occupied with my novelty bookmark, starting to read after taking it out. I’m about a third in; pretty standard romantic antics, but the characters are pretty grounded. Got an Apollonian and Dionysian dynamic going on. Most of the actions of the Dionysian-type end in some poor circumstance, but I’m assuming they’re gonna subvert that later on. Everyone’s afraid of Dionysus, but nobody wants to admit that. At least I admit it.

I get a couple pages into my current chapter when I feel a tug at my pant-leg. I look at Bo.

“I uh, finished my drawing. You’re a nice lady. You wanna see?”

The request takes me aback. “Oh! Yeah sure!”

They hand me the clipboard and I finally get a look at what they were drawing. It looks like some kind of original character they have, a cat with wings with eyes on it. The character is wearing studded bracelets and is vibrantly colored, despite the limited color palette Bo was given. It has wavy hair and fur, has some kind of goody-two-shoe aesthetic, but the sharp, toothy smiles hints to something mischievous. Very cute!

“Oh my goodness! I love it! Is this a character of yours?”

Bo’s expression lightens up and they put on a hearty grin. “It’s my fursona! Her name is Sparkle!”

I’m a little confused, so I ask for some clarification. “You have more than one fursona?”

Their smile fades when hearing the question. They seem confused by my question and think for a moment before answering. “I have a couple OCs and fursonas, but Sparkle is my main one.”

Now this is getting weird.

“Wait, I thought your main fursona was Bonnie. Y’know the wolf with crown, the bandanna, and heart nose?”

My confusion confuses them even more. Their eyes quickly dart around the room and they fidget with their fingers, stammering, “I-I-eh-I…” Then their eyes get puffy, throwing their head up before whining, “I can’t do this!”

I slide down onto the carpet as they hold their head in their hands. I’m panicked, they’re panicked—I fucked up.

I’m anxious as hell, so I gotta phrase my words carefully. “Hey, it’s okay! Do you want to do something else?”

They don’t give a cohesive reply, only stammering under their breath.

“Do you want some space or something? I uh—God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know that question would—”

“I’m not Bo!” They suddenly blurt, their head now out of their arms.

We both go silent.

“I must be hallucinating…” the music chimes in, lost in its own world.

More silence. I really should say something.

“W-what do you mean?”

“...Bo isn’t here right now. They got upset and need some away time, so I’m here.”

I’m a little speechless. Like, speechless because it’s something that’s so out of my domain. I’ve never seen anything like this before.. Well, I am a little familiar with what this is, but only because of the chatter from people I pass by. I don’t get it. How does someone simply just… become someone else? How could you ever escape from being yourself, from being the impulses that make up yourself? Why does that sound nice? Or maybe I just feel lonely. I feel selfish for feeling lonely after hearing this. They can be themself in any way that they want to. I thought we were more similar than we actually are.

I can’t lie. I’ve only known Bo for around a month, but they’re the first meaningful friend I got in a long, long time. It seemed like we had a lot in common, regardless if the trait was good or bad. People like to say that “opposites attract”, but there’s something nice in befriending a person like you. It felt good to know that there was someone else out there who wanted him to be okay. But we’re different. I should’ve figured. It’s fine that we’re different. I guess.

A question passes me by and I decide to voice it. “If you aren’t Bo, then who are you?”

The person whipsers, “I’m Sparkle.”

I look at drawing again, which was laying the ground. A wave of guilt inflames my throat. They’re just a—

I can’t take it, Noisette! You’re a person—my god, you’re a person!

I’m a sickening thing.

To think Bo, or any other part of them, could be just like me…