"...Cici," you mutter simply. You take the offered beer from Kate's hand, but you're a little wary of consuming alcohol while on any pills (let alone mysterious, off-market anxiety pills). You don't open it just yet.

"Like, puppy patrol Cici?," Kate asks.

"Librarian Cici."

"Yeah," Kate replies.

"She was at the concert with me," you begin. "She helped me escape. She knows I wasn't... I dunno, carrying around gasoline or anything. Even if she can't give us a place to stay, maybe she knows what to do? She's like... cop adjacent, right?"

Kate takes a short puff of her level. "Very cop adjacent. You sure she won't just turn us in and let the law sort it out?"

You shake your head. "I don't think she would."

"How long have you known her?"

You don't immediately reply, but you're pretty sure your wince and hesitance say enough. You've only been here for three days, and that puts a pretty finite cap on how well you could even lie about it.

Kate sighs. "I've hung out with her sister a couple times, I know where she lives and I... think? They're still roommates? ...But you're not gonna like it."

"Why?," you ask. You're thrown off by the revelation that Cici has a sister but, priorities. "Is her house right next to the grocery store or something? Does she live under the police station?"

Kate gives a wry, fake smile. "She enjoys affordable rent and all the convenience of a mall next door in her...

drum roll please--"

The bus begins to play a canned drum roll sound effect, causing Kate's goofy grin to widen

"--MondolHomes apartment."

Brief pause.

Ba-dum-tish.

"God DAMN it," you blurt out. "I'll bet it was MondolGroup that started the fucking fire in the first place."

"Right?," Kate replies. "It does seem like real convenient timing if it wasn't someone from the concert."

"...Or even if it was," you realize. "We still don't know who called the cops halfway into the show."

You see it all fall into place in Kate's expression. "Fuuuck me it was a setup," she states. "The concert distracted the cops while someone else got into position, and gave the cops a grab bag to pick scapegoats from. We had flyers all over town, and they used that to schedule the perfect time to fuck us over."

"AND MondolGroup has it out for Maria," you add. "So they get to try and take her down, dick you over for having concerts on their empty properties, AND the narrative pretty much writes itself--you said the cops here are lazy, right? They're not going to look deeper than what's immediately obvious. It's already laid out nice and neat what must have happened, why would they investigate past the surface?"

"I've searched the internet for Cici's cell phone number," the bus chimes in, "but I'm afraid it's unlisted."

"Might be impossible to find if it is listed," says Kate. "They don't have last names. God, this so lame--I could respect some villainous mastermind shit, but this whole scheme just hinges on us having shitty cops."

"And so far it's working," you add. "So, our options: we could go to your place."

"My place is kind of hidden and off the books," states Kate. "Unless my mom also invited the cops out back to show them around, in between dinner with Frankenstein and showing my baby pictures to the wolf man. The cops know where my mom lives, but she doesn't have to lie to say I don't live in that house anymore."

"We could stay at my place," you list off. "I'm new, they don't know who I am, they probably don't know where I live yet. The mayor might be making it harder for the cops to figure out who lives in the house, which could work to our advantage."

"Unless..." Kate, after some effort, manages to twist the cap off of her beer. "...The mayor decides to play the game herself. She explicitly knows where you live. If she feeds a couple hot tips to the cops, you go to prison for arson. Three square meals a day and police protection, she gets to live guilt free while poking at your empty house for... how long's the sentence for arson?"

"The minimum sentence is ten years," says the bus. "With a maximum of forty."

"That many," concludes Kate. "And Parsons doesn't even have to lie--she doesn't know if you did or didn't do the arson before rolling up to her office, and she'll sleep better not asking. Just let the cops do their job and enjoy her free house." After a moment of trying to figure out how to juggle the joint in her mouth, the bottle in one hand, and the now useless bottlecap in the other, she finally just shoves the bottlecap in her pocket. She removes the level from her lips and takes a drink of her beer.

"That..." You think about it for a moment. "Yeah, I don't know if she would--fuck if I know what kind of person Rill Parsons really is--but that sounds extremely possible. So if we stay at my place, we're gambling on whether the mayor's a massive piece of shit or just kind of rude and weird. ...Or if she'd even think to do that. It's a smart idea but it's--what'd you call it earlier? Villainous mastermind shit."

"I watch a lot of police procedurals and like... crime documentaries." Kate takes another puff, and another drink. "I don't know why. I fucking hate cops, man, but I can't stop."

You smile a little. "I still think our best bet is Cici's, but then we're in Mondol territory."

"The third floor of Mondol territory," Kate adds. "The arson investigation won't be Mondol's, but you can bet your sweet ass they'd love to help the local cops any way they can. That building's wired up like a Christmas tree--if you told me the bathrooms had cameras I'd believe it."

"Isn't that super illegal?," you ask. "They can't put cameras in peoples' apartments, they get naked in there."

"That would be illegal, yes," the bus states. "However: a company can take minute data on their customers for the purpose of analyzing demographics and maximizing marketing efforts. This can include your weight, hair color, or skin tone. This can include your heart rate or your tone of voice to see how shopping or coming home from work affects your mood. This can include extensive analysis of your posture and how much you sweat to better help the company determine when a customer becomes exhausted, and how much distance is too much between individual stores. This can include running algorithms that check for the use of particular words or phrases. A company may buy or sell a customer's internet search history for more personal advertising of products the customer is likely to purchase.

All of this broad demographic data, of course... but if the law requests more specific samples in particular combinations or over certain periods of time as part of an investigation, then..."

Kate shrugs, and points upward at the bus's ceiling. "That. By the time you walk out of a Mondol building, they know you better than you know you. That's a lot of my beef with the guys at The Back Room--like, it's fun to talk about alien hybrids and mind control drugs and shit, but there's real evil happening in our own backyard. We need to fight that shit before it gets weirder."

"...The Back Room," you mutter. "Are they still open?"

"Nah, I think they close at like 8," Kate replies. "...They do have crappy locks, though. I don't think they'd call the cops on us for sleeping there once they hear the full story."

"You're saying we should just... like..." You pause, trying to put it as succinctly as possible. "...Break in to The Back Room?"

Kate gives a slight smile and another shrug. "Yeah. Basically."

Hmm.

"I feel like more crime is maybe not the answer to this specific problem," you finally say.

"It'd be cooler if it was though," Kate says with a wider smile. "Fiiine, let's hit up Cici's. MondolHomes gives me the creeps, but her and her sisters are like... the closest we're gonna get to cops we can trust. It's not like they signed up for it anyway."

Wait--sisters? Plural?

This is getting out of hand.

Kate waves her joint in the air. "To MondolHomes, O Chariot."

"Should we get... like..." You shrug. "I dunno. Hats, or masks or something first...?"

"Dude," Kate replies, "Mondol knows what your farts smell like before they're out of your butt. And they automatically flag anyone covering their face, I already figured that one out the hard way."

The bus eventually begins to approach MondolHomes--which is, indeed, attached like a weird growth directly to the side of MondolMall. Combined, they remind you of a weird fortress. The buildings are uneven and arranged in... some kind of way, but none you can imagine ever approving at a board meeting. It's not aesthetically pleasing, and you can't imagine it's easy to navigate once you're inside.

They're just really tacky buildings shoved wherever.

Like the mayor's office did, MondolHomes has a bus stop almost right in front of it. You and Kate step out onto the sidewalk. "I'll be around," the bus tells you.

"Thanks," you reply.

"The real question," Kate begins as the bus is leaving, "is how much do we tell her?" Kate takes a drink of her beer; yours is still unopened in your hand.

"How much is Mondol paying real attention to?" You pause. You have to think about it for a second. "We could talk her into coming outside, away from the sensors or whatever to talk about it."

"True," Kate says. "We gotta hope that doesn't raise suspicion."

"--and I'm sure Mondol has a brain trust all too eager to tear the place apart and see what makes it tick."

You remember what Mayor Parsons said.

Mondol doesn't know where the house is, but do they know the house exists? Do they know the mayor's trying to keep something from them? If they can flag words or phrases or certain behaviors, then mentioning spooky house or the mayor could grab someone's direct focus. You don't want Mondol to call the cops on you for the arson--but you also don't want Mondol to find out you have a magic nightmare house.

Or they might not know anything at all, and mentioning your magic nightmare house will have zero repercussions whatsoever.

You were fully prepared for a horror movie. You were definitely not prepared for a spy film.

Kate waves a hand in front of your face. "You alright?"

"...Yeah," you reply. "I'm still thinking about it."

"Well, we can't just keep standing here," Kate says. "That's loitering and Plaire said nooo crimes."

You grin. "I did. I fucking meant it, too."

The two of you make your way to the front door. Kate tosses what's left of her level down and stomps it out on the way there. "Just act cool," she says. "We're just numbers on a spreadsheet 'til we fuck up."

"Fuck," you whisper. "It's like a sci-fi hotel in here."

"My thought was always a sanitarium," replies Kate, "but that works too."

You approach the elevator.

There's no buttons.

A stiff male voice pipes in from the uh... everywhere. "Which direction would--"

"Up," Kate says aloud.

The elevator begins to hum.

Very softly.

Uncomfortably quiet for an elevator.

The whole place is uncomfortably quiet.

You stare at a big digital display while you wait. MondolGroup logos revolve around the tube-shaped screen, fading in and out of existence.

The elevator opens. Not even a ding, it just... opens.

The two of you step into the elevator.

"Third floor," Kate says.

The doors close and... again, no sound.

No shaking. You don't even feel like you're moving.

You're barely in the elevator a few seconds before it re-opens. You and Kate step out onto the third floor of MondolHomes.

You follow her down a... strangely angular hallway until you reach the door she's searching for.

She knocks.

. . .

After a brief pause, Cici opens the door.

You start to greet her--

when you notice she's not wearing her eyepatch.

And her hair's a little different.

She's also not... quite as toned as--

"Bebe," Kate says.

"Kaaate," replies the woman who looks almost identical to Cici, apparently named Bebe. "What's up?"

"We need to talk to your sister."

"Alright, alright, I see how it is." Bebe smiles and disappears into the apartment. You faintly hear her yelling, "Cici! There's some weirdos here to see you."

And, a moment later

the real Cici appears.

In chicken pajamas.

"Plaire!," Cici announces. She then turns to Kate.

"K...aaate? Right?"

"Yeah," Kate says with a slight smirk.

"You guys make it out okay?," Cici asks. "I held 'em off as long as I could."

"Y-Yeah...?" Kate hesitantly replies. "About that..."

Kate's words drift away until she turns to look directly at you.

You don't know what to say, either. The word fire couldn't be a trigger--in a small town like this, everyone's going to be talking about it, and that's too much data to sort through. ...But then again, algorithms can do a lot these days. If the system can flag certain words it can flag combinations of words, or the word only when spoken by females, or...

You can't really explain where you were during the arson without mentioning the mayor or the house, and if Mondol knows anything then those are definite flag options.

"...Are you guys alright?," Cici asks. You realize you and Kate have just been staring at each other, making bewildered faces and shrugging.

"Plaire needs a sleepover," Kate blurts out.

Your name could be a flag. Kate said your name.

Cici said your name as soon as she walked out.

Ughhh you are not a super spy this is harrrd

"Plaire...?" Cici looks at you, clearly confused.

"Uhhh... yeah." You subtly, gently nudge your head in the direction of the sensor above the door. "Maybe a quiet sleepover."

Cici squints. You can see the gears turning, but she's not quite there yet. She leans over... and looks up to where you're suggesting. She sees the sensor. She turns back to you.

She tilts her head.

She squints harder with her one good eye.

You and Kate do everything you can to psychically project your intentions, but only manage to make stranger faces.

"...Oh!," Cici finally exclaims. "Yeah! C'mon in! I sure do love sleepovers."

She leads you into her apartment. Once Kate's shut the door behind you, Cici begins to cross the room--lightly tapping her fingertips across the wall as she does. ...Well, lightly for her. Though Cici gives it the smallest of efforts, it still sounds like someone bouncing a tennis ball.

She stops when the noise changes.

"Bebe," Cici begins as she turns to face her sister. "We're gonna have a sleepover, even though I know how much you hate sleepovers."

"What? I--" Bebe, somehow, gets it immediately. Her demeanor changes, the large young woman doing her best to sound... upset? She's not a great actress, but you can tell what she's going for. "Ohhh yeah. Yeah girl, you know how mad I get about strangers sleepin' in my house."

"Wow!," Cici replies, also giving a... less than award winning performance. "You need to calm down, Bebe! You look mad enough to fight!"

"I AM mad enough to fight," Bebe affirms. "In fact--"

And then, as you and Kate watch on in continued confusion, the two of them begin to playfully grapple. You're not... entirely sure where either of them is going with this, until the wrestling culminates in Bebe shoving Cici backward.

Cici hits the wall--as does one of her elbows, with enough force to crack the surface.

An awkward but surprisingly tense pause ensues.

Cici looks down, as though having expected something to happen--

"Damn," she says with almost comedic stiffness, "my legally protected disability makes me so clumsy!"

Cici slams her elbow into the wall a second time, this time a bit more to the right.

The lights in the apartment immediately go black. You hear the AC system sputter out, a sound so faint that you didn't even notice it until it was gone. The blue glow of Mondol's electronics is the last to fade away.

"Power box thing for the whole floor," says Cici.

"One of our friends used to be head of maintenance," says Bebe. "He knows where everything is."

"Marlow?," Kate asks. "Fuck, he would know all that, wouldn't he?"

"Heck yeah, this building was like his baby or somethin'," Bebe chuckles.

"How long do we have?," you ask. It's a little weird talking into the dark; there's no windows in this apartment, so until your eyes adjust you see absolutely nothing.

...You're a little surprised you can tell Cici's voice from Bebe's. They're the same voice, just... there's nuances. Minor things, like how they say certain words.

"Oh, I have no idea," says Cici. "We never really did this before."

"Yeah, we just joked about it," confirms Bebe. "They got backups ready, so I'd talk fast."

You and Kate hurriedly explain everything, from the concert until now.

...Well, not everything. You trim the details in the interest of brevity, leaving out--for example--how the conversation with the mayor actually went. You tell Cici and Bebe only what you need to to understand the overall situation.

By the time you're done, your vision of pitch black impenetrable darkness has been upgraded to vague silhouttes.

"Mmm, you got all that?," Bebe asks.

"Yeah!," replies Cici. "The bus, right?"

"Yeaaah bus has gotta have it," agrees Bebe.

She casually pulls a phone out of her pocket and begins to make a phone call.

"Hey boy, it's Bebe. I got a faaavor. I know, I know! Mmmit's cop stuff though, I promise. Sooo you know they're out there lookin' for whoever burned the--yeah. ...Yeah, you got it! So I got two of those suspects here and I think y'all can take 'em off the list, I just need you to check some things for me. You got a pen and paper ready? ... Alright? Okay, you're lookin' for one of those Chariot buses. Yeah. It's a Chariot bus but it's got its cameras and junk turned off. Yeah. Okay."

... A brief wait.

"...Okay, what you need to do is ask for the bus's route last night. From liiike..."

"9pm to ten minutes ago," says Cici.

"9pm to ten minutes ago," repeats Bebe into the phone. "Yeah. It should look like... where that concert was, then it puttered around for a while, then it went to the mayor's office. Yeah. ...Yeah! The bus kinda hung out, then went to a convenience store. ... Yeah. Then to here. Yeah. I'm at home, yeah. But yeah, suspects said that's where the bus went and nobody else was ridin' that one, so if that's right then we got the bus as a witness these guys didn't do the--yeah."

...Another wait.

"Whaaat, a bus can be a witness! ... C'mon, really? Okay, one sec."

She covers up the phone with her hand, looking to Cici. "The bus route's good but they don't wanna bus as a witness. Bus could be lyin' about them being there. Y'all could have corroborated a story together after the fact or whatever."

"Whaaat?" Even as only a shape in the dark, Cici looks taken aback. "That's dumb, a bus can't lie. They're a bus. Okay, tell 'em... uhhh..."

Bebe shrugs. You can tell Cici's trying to think of something, but she's struggling as well.

Something that proves you were aboard the bus

that isn't just the AI vouching for you.

Hard evidence.

Evidence.

...Data.

Chariot MT is a company just like Mondol is.

A company working with Mondol.

With the clock ticking, you don't even hesitate to say it. "The bus might have logged our weight."

A short silence follows.

Kate finally responds. "...Oh, fuck, she probably did. That affects gas mileage and shit."

"And," you continue, saying the words pretty much as they come to you, "Chariot MT might not value the security of the passengers enough to reinforce the surveillance equipment, but how many passengers and how long they ride for affects their business. That's... demographic marketing stuff. That's gotta be on a different setup than the cameras and the recorded mics are."

You look at the shape of Cici, who nods and shrugs.

You look at the shape of Bebe, who nods and shrugs.

You look at the shape of Kate.

"...So why didn't the bus mention it?," Kate asks. "She's been pretty open about that shit, and if that's legit we really could've known it sooner."

"Maybe the analytic stuff is off limits for her to talk about." You don't like it, but it's the best answer you can come up with in the moment. "Maybe she doesn't know she's tracking all that... but I'll bet she still is." If anything, the bus being bizarrely open about the greater evils of capitalism would make it easier to smokescreen the smaller evils of capitalism. It certainly didn't occur to you until just now. Like Kate said: if you're right, the bus never mentioned it.

"Good enough for me!" Bebe brings the phone back to her ear. "Hey! Yeah, it's still me. When y'all find that bus see if they got data on their weight or capacity or whatever at different times, you can use that to find out when folks got on or off. You might have to get a warrant. Oh, and they're gonna fix those cameras tomorrow morning, so y'all gotta get on it or you're gonna need another warrant to figure out which bus had the busted--yeah. Yup.

A short redhead and an average sized lady with pink hair.

Yeah.

Cool, thanks!"

Bebe hangs up the phone. "They ain't gonna do all that, y'all are good. Soon as I mentioned needin' two warrants I could already hear him scratching y'all's names off, they're just gonna take my word for it. Lazy asses."

"I gotta say..." Kate begins, putting her hands up, "Like, damn. You thought of that plan quick."

Bebe shrugs and smiles, shoving her phone back into her pocket. "It was mostly Cici's idea. She was like the bus? And she gave me that look--"

"Yeah," Cici says, "and Bebe was like ohhh yeah the bus."

You turn to Kate, who likewise turns to you. She appears as confused as you feel.

Kate's the first to respond. "So... like... you guys conveyed that whole plan with a look?"

"And just mentioning the bus," you add.

This, after all the difficulty Cici had picking up you and Kate's charade routine earlier.

"Well... yeah! Pretty much," says Cici. "I mean, Plaire came up with the weight thing, but... yeah. I just had to be like... you know, the bus."

Bebe adds, "If y'all don't got sisters you probably don't get it."

The room hums softly as the lights flicker back on. The sensors and the large TV in the living area reboot as a bright, almost blinding red before returning to their previous soft blue tones.

Bebe, fighting back a smile, very loudly declares: "I have learned not to overreact about sleepovers, and I will definitely not do this again."

Cici approaches you and Kate, keeping her voice lower. "You guys at least shouldn't have to run from the cops now. If you need a place to stay, well... we got a couch! And a floor, but it's not very comfortable."

Though you may no longer have to run from the cops, you still don't...

really

want to deal with the dream dungeon tonight.

It has been a very long day.

"Thanks," you tell Cici and Bebe.

You hold out your beer, still unopened.

"Awwnah, I'm goin' to bed," Bebe chuckles. "You kids have fun. Cici, don't forget you got work tomorrow."

Cici, on the other hand, gladly takes the beer, twisting the cap off with minimal effort. "I know, I got it! Goodnight Bebe!"

"Goodnight, errbody."

Cici turns back to you and Kate as Bebe wanders off to her room.

"So..." Kate begins, "you guys got any like... board games or something?"

"We got playing cards," Cici replies. "Chips, too, I think. Bebe taught me to play poker, but I kinda suck at it."

"Well," Kate says with a smirk, "that's because Bebe also sucks at poker."

After fumbling around and discovering that Cici's couch does, indeed, have a fold-out bed, the three of you stay up late playing poker. ...Well, you stay up later; the night's activities have already kept you out a while. You and Kate play from the fold out bed, while Cici sits on the floor but uses the bed like a table. Cici feared she might break the bed itself, citing "they always make these things for regular sized people."

Cici is also, as she confessed, not very good at poker.

Kate's decent--she's experienced, at least, and not afraid to play aggressively. You and Kate mostly go back and forth; she wins just a little more often, but not much, and you can tell she's really pressing herself to keep up. It quickly develops into a small rivalry, with Cici only barreling in as a wild card when she gets an exceptional hand.

Cici finally asks the question you've been dreading to answer--and that Kate may be dreading to hear:

"How much poker have you played, Plaire? You're pretty good at this!"

You hesitate

but you don't want to lie.

You don't have to lie.

"This is, uh... my first time. Actually."

"Dammit," Kate blurts out, half laughing. "I fucking knew it. I saw you kinda fumbling the cards and I was like, maybe it's part of her bluff. Maybe I'm struggling against a master. Maybe she's like a card shark or something."

"No," you're forced to admit, shaking your head, "I just know waaay too much about poker odds. I... I research a lot of video game mechanics. If you start looking into how RNG works in a lot of games, you start rabbitholing into probabilities and game theories for way older stuff. I didn't understand how arrays and random generation worked together until I started thinking of them like a deck of cards. ...Also the concept of luck is just, ruined for me."

Cici shrugs, smiles, and shakes her head. "See, you lost me at RNG."

"Random number generation," you reply.

"Ohhh gotcha," nods Cici sagely.

You add, at a half hearted mumble, "Also I guess gambling runs in my family, but I don't think a genetic predisposition is making me better at it. I'm just more likely to get addicted...?"

"A likely story..." says Kate in mock suspicion, "but tell me this, Plaire--if that IS your real name--where the hell are these bluffs coming from? I have sat here and watched you play some of THE most bunk ass hands I've ever seen, and the whole time you have this face like you're about to cure cancer. I like to think I have a pretty finely tuned bullshit detector but you are just a fucking monolith."

"I..." You smile a little, in spite of yourself. You let it fade on its own before you finish replying. "...I used to lie a lot. Used to... have to... lie a lot."

The room falls quiet for a moment, but before you can become self conscious about it, Cici speaks up. "Wait, how can you be genetically predisposed to gambling?"

"Cici." Kate looks her square in the eye. "You guys are genetically predisposed to the gay but you're confused about hereditary gambling?"

Cici audibly scoffs, huffs, and blusters. Kate almost drops her cards and you almost fall off the couch trying to contain your respective laughters.

"That...!" Cici finally manages to say, "is not the same as gambling."

"Well fuck, I've been doing it wrong then," Kate manages to blurt out in between stifled giggling.

"To be fair," you interject, "that is still kiiind of pseudoscience. I don't think anyone's done a study on whether all... uh... genetically engineered people are... um...

you know."

"I don't," Cici says bluntly, fighting back a grin. She leans in, giving you the most serious expression she can muster while staring straight into your soul. "You're gonna have to tell me."

"Plaire." Kate, likewise, tries to be as stoic as possible. "I did a study. Just now. Cici, how many straight people are in your family?"

"Zero," Cici says, still maintaining solid eye contact with you. "It's Lesbian Central out here."

Kate nods solemnly. "Plaire, I regret to inform you that I, too, am a raging homosexual. You've actually walked into a really dumb and let's be honest, needlessly elaborate trap."

"I..."

It's funny but

you're not sure you've ever just... said it. Out loud.

You

you don't have to lie.

"...I'm like 80% sure I'm gay."

"Well, nobody's perfect," says Cici as she finally breaks eye contact.

"Ahem," Kate enunciates out loud, "the response the judges were looking for was oh well I can fix that."

"I, uh..." you stare down at your cards for a moment. You realize you've gotten caught up in the moment, and entirely forgotten about the game. Not that it's a great hand, anyway. "...I'm not used to people being. Like. ...Open about it."

Cici's expression changes rapidly. "...Oh, dang. Is that why you moved here? You from one of those kinda towns?"

Kate keeps her smile, but it softens a little.

"...Basically, yeah." You swallow roughly. "It was... smaller than Ninelives."

"Hard to believe," Kate pipes in with a bit more smirk, "but go on."

"Everybody knew everybody," you continue. "My teacher went to church with my mom. My dad worked for... for my ex-girlfriend's dad. The local drug dealer was the son of my mom's best friend. There were no secrets. Nothing ever happened so everybody gossiped. Everybody needed to know everything, to tell everybody everything. Everybody wanted the fucking scoop. ...So if I got caught doing something, my whole family would know by the end of the day."

"And your family, uh..." Cici winces, "...they didn't approve of you, uh...?"

"You know," interrupts Kate, copying your language from earlier. Cici grins, and you can't help but smile a little, too.

"Yeah," you finally reply. "My mom's super religious--"

You don't have to lie.

"...My mom likes the appearance of being super religious. She has a reputation to uphold. I don't think she really cares beyond what the churchfolk would think. My dad..."

You don't.

Have.

To lie.

"My dad... just... hates. I didn't understand hate until I heard my dad talk about," you put your cards down to make finger quotes, "the queers."

"Damn," says Cici, taken aback.

"Like..." You stare at your hands. It feels weird even talking about it without the fear he's going to somehow find out. "He still advocates for ECT. Strongly. Unironically. That kind of hate."

"Fuuuck," adds Kate. "Dude. That's nuts."

"ECT...?" Cici asks.

"Electroconvulsive therapy," you mutter.

"Where they try to shock the gay out of you," Kate adds.

"Oh. Damn."

"The whole town's like that," you continue. "Just... small-minded, primitive assholes. They're a witch trial away from grabbing the pitchforks. I'm surprised they're not still bloodletting with leeches and shit. It was killing me. Living there felt like I was... like I was fucking--"

Drowning.

In prison.

A barbaric, medieval prison

with monsters, always trying to get under your skin

and to possess what's in your head

no matter how much it might hurt you to do so.

"...Oh. Oh, shit."

"What?," Cici asks.

"I just..." Hmm can't really explain that to her right now. "...I just realized something." You shake your head before gently arching your eyebrows toward the big MondolGroup logo floating across Cici's TV screen. "I'll tell you later."

"Ohhh, gotcha," Kate says.

"You guys have gotta fill me in better at some point," huffs Cici. "I'm not down for all this head waggling code business. ANYWAY--" Cici, having apparently realized this game has run its course, throws her cards down to put a hand on your shoulder. "You're not there anymore. You're safe here, and if anybody gives you trouble I'll whip their ass."

Kate grins. "And then I'll jump in like yeah fucker you just got wrecked by a librarian. You still picked a painfully small town, but yeah we're not gonna chase you off like you're Frankendyke."

"Ugh," remarks Cici. "I hate that word. I don't know who all's memories they pumped me with, but somebody got called a dyke once and I'm not a fan."

"That sucks," Kate replies, "because Frankendyke is 100% what I'm calling my next band."

"Speaking of your band--" Cici segues, "what's the deal with your singer--"

but Kate interjects. "No."

"Hmm, I think Cici's right," you persist. "Your frontman kinda--"

"No," Kate repeats, signalling for the cut with her hands. "Nope not tonight. I am tired and talking about it is going to make me more tired. Just... I know. Trust me. I know. He's one of the only three people that can play bass in this town, I have looked everywhere and I have counted.."

"Who're the other two bassists?," you ask, purely out of curiosity.

Kate flashes a fake, gameshow host sort of smile. "Why I'm glad you asked. One of them is already on drums and the other is me. Until I figure out how to mutate an extra pair of arms, we're stuck with what we got. He insists on singing and writing if he's gonna be our bassist. I know. I know."

"Isn't bass supposed to be real easy to learn?," Cici asks.

"It is," Kate replies. "Do you know how to play bass?"

"No," admits Cici. "I think my hands are too big."

"Me either," you admit, before adding with a poorly concealed grin "my hands, also, are too large."

"And there you go." Kate holds her hands up high, giving a strong contender for the real biggest shrug. "Doesn't matter how easy it is to learn if nobody does. Hope you guys enjoy the sultry tones and thought provoking lyrics of...

drumroll please--"

Kate looks at you, expectantly. With a forced sigh, you begin to drum your fingers on the arm of the couch.

"...Rip Brutalis," Kate declares. "And yes, pronouncing it wrong is part of it."

You briefly lose it. "You did NOT tell me--" You hold up one finger until you manage to stop laughing. "You didn't tell me his stage name was Rip Brutalis. I was fine with Rip, where did Brutalis come from?"

"I don't knooow," Kate groans. "I don't fucking know he said it sounded metal."

Cici, who is covering her mouth to try and hide how wide she's smiling, finally speaks up again to simply state "RIP."

"Rip," you add, barely between laughs. "Fucking Brutalis."

"He..." Kate actually hesitates, her face sinking like she's about to deliver the worst news in history, "he wanted ME to go by Demona Brimstone, but I can only be pushed so far."

"Oh my god," Cici laughs into her hand.

"Holy shit Kate," you manage to force out, "do you have to have a bassist?"

"YES," Kate exclaims. "Two person bands are just... weird. It gives you that aura of... folksy indie experimental shit. One of those bands you watch online and you go huh, how distinct and then you never buy their merch."

"You've thought about this," Cici points out.

"I constantly think about this," responds Kate. "If I have to put up with some dweeb's highschool notebook goth phase 80s van airbrushed tiger bullshit to get to play, then... well, fuck, that's the price I gotta pay."

There's a brief silence.

You finally add, "You just went through like... three different stereotypes. He IS pretty fucking awful, though--"

"I KNOW," insists Kate. "Eeeveryone can tell. You could have never heard a song in your life. You could be deaf, and look at that dude like hmm yes he carries himself like a guy that sucks at singing. He has negative stage presence. I hate him but I need a bassist but oooh do I hate him. CICI." Kate suddenly whips her head around to stare at Cici. "Me and Plaire are divulging all our darkest secrets here."

"Yeah," you agree, nodding, "you have to give us your backstory now."

"One," says Cici, "you just made it real clear that Rip suckin' is not a secret to anybody. Two:"

Kate quickly interjects, "Rip Suckin' will be the first album from Frankendyke."

"TWO," re-emphasizes Cici as her gaze steadily wanders off, "...I gotta work in the morning so I'm going to bed."

"Ohhhoho, I see, I see," says Kate, holding her hands up. "Pulling that shit on us. Alright. Okay. I'll remember that, Cici."

Cici grins as she gathers up the chips and playing cards. "Remember it. I think you'll find I work in the morning and have to go to bed a lot."

Once Cici's gone to her room, it's just you and Kate in the living room.

"Alright," she begins, "I'll share the couch-bed with you, but no funny stuff. I don't bang on the first date. That is the rule. THE rule."

Um.

"W... was this a date?," you ask.

"I mean..." In spite of how immediately flustered you've become, Kate's shrug is still very nonchalant. "That's how most of my dates have gone, yeah. We managed to avoid getting arrested, so--you made top three. Congrats. Pound it."

She holds out her fist.

You politely shake your head.

She tilts her head and arches her eyebrows, more and more enthusiastically, until you finally bump her fist with your own.

"Yeah," says Kate. "Hell yeah. So is-- uh-- the thing gonna happen tonight? Am I about to be sucked into your wonderland?"

"Not on the first date," you somehow manage to say out loud, prompting Kate to almost choke on her own laughter. You give her a moment to recover before you continue, grinning and probably blushing like an idiot. "Seriously though I have no idea. I might be taking this whole damn building with me."

"Well, shit," she says. Kate removes her jacket--finally, after all this time--and lays it carefully next to her guitar before throwing herself onto the fold out bed.

There's

a lot going on

that's uh

easier to notice with the jacket gone.

"Giddyup."

"Kate..." you lay down next to her. You smile. You focus intently on eye contact because you do not trust yourself to start looking elsewhere. "You're good at a lot but choosing last words is not one of them."

"Geronimo?"

You sigh.

You lay in silence for a while.

You're really not sure how this is going to work.

Eventually, the lack of motion in the room signals the lights to dim...

slowly fading to total darkness

save for the faint, blue glow of all the apartment's built in electronics.

The last thing you hear before you drift off is Kate sleepily muttering "Get 'er done."

You wake up at about noon.

You are still in Cici's apartment, sleeping on a fold out bed next to Kate.

At some point during the night you turned over, and also became the little spoon.