The gray.

It is all that remains after the Truth has been loosened free from the grip of crimson repression.

The sides of black and white, have properly mixed this time, leaving just different shades of boring clay for one to explore. Wherever he goes in this town-no, this city - he sees it. In the colors of the buildings, in the actions of the people going about their day-to-day business, etc, etc.

Mediocrity seeps out from every street corner, every window, and every brick. Here, passion, excitement, all are irrelevant. Even during nighttime when all the lights are set aglow, the neon colors don't inspire anything but for those who hide their evils in the dark, to come out and sic their fangs into this concrete jungle and it's people.

At some points it sickens him, at others it makes him, in a way- grateful. Grateful to know that there are at least some that are far bigger of a mess than him. If he were to never have woke up he’d be missing out on this, blind to the world, blind to the truth, then where would he be now?

He suspects 6 feet under.

There are times he yearns for that, even still. For there to be simple cemented absolutes that he can subscribe to without a single care in the world, like the good old days. Blissful, childish ignorance.

He had learned the hard way on that front.

Contemplating all of this, he blinks with a mute comfort, hearing the sounds of his digital alarm clock at last, it seems he has awoke before his alarm yet again. Or the more correct way to put it – he hasn’t been falling asleep in the first place.

It’s not for the lack of trying either, he’s went through just about everything to get the job done, including doing something he’d be crucifying himself for in his hikikikomori heydays… Asking for help from Mom.

Egads! Such a revolting decision! His poor Mother!.. Is honestly what he felt like in the moment, but it turned out to be far better than he expected, she being more than eager to help her poor ‘sunny-cat’ with any possible issue he would actually afford his Mother to take care of besides his basic needs.

Alas, the problem still persists even with the solutions she’s been trying to offer, he hates seeing her deflated, especially if the reason for said deflation has anything to do with him – so he still keeps using the melatonin and pretending that it’s at least doing something.

Swing… Plant. Thus are the ways his legs and thereby his feet move to make their place amongst the ground, the cold floor pressing against his skin and seeping the chill further into his body.

He looks around his rather barren room, still refusing to unpack despite it being over half a year since he got here. The only thing that couldn’t really be packed into any box due to being too delicate, is a lone mirror, facing off to his left, they were going to put it in the one available bathroom, but that turned out to be useless when a wall-sized mirror had already been installed.

Numbly, he finds himself staring into his own reflection, his feet seemingly deciding to move here on their very own.

He doesn’t find himself in control of much nowadays.

it drives him crazy sometimes

His eye traces over the reflection, over himself, waiting for something to happen, anything.

He alternates sometimes, between this one and the one in the bathroom, each time praying and holding out hope that he’ll see any glimpse, any glimpse at all of something different. Something, anything. He doesn’t care whether it’s a horrific illusion of…Of her again, or if it’s yet another one of his deepest buried nightmares, he just wants a break away from this endless gray melancholy which faces him every time he opens his eyes to the vast city, which is only vast in it’s hollow emptiness.

Ah. That reminds him.

He has some time now, he needs...He needs something, and it’s been a good while…

Turning, he faces ‘Mt. Boxivius’, a giant stack of boxes filled with all of his items from the move...Which he has relegated to being a pile in the corner of his room. Taking a deep breath, he CALM’s DOWN before even getting started with this little...Project.

Looking at it now, he can picture the snow-capped peaks, endless waterfalls, towering icicles glaring downwards splitting one half of the mountain from the other side - An ashen downward wasteland engulfed in flame, rivers of magma and volcano’s, dotting the slope like angry blazing...Well, the word that comes to his mind is pimples, but he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

And far above it all, towering above the fire and ice, lies the purple frontier of space, Pluto flying about, free to be himself, laughing with his hearty belting, escaping the grasps of Captain Spaceboy and his pirate crew… The aforementioned Captain, in his miniature pixelated form, bores back into the single eye of the Sun, with his very own cycloptic observance. The younger brother’s gaze still being brighter when she was here.

Ah, finally, a daydream.

He’s been missing those as of late.

Snapped out of it, the Dreamer crouches down, searching through the masses of cardboard, housing various different mementos and , until finally, he grabs hold of it, along with his supplies.

Carrying them back to his bed, he gets himself adjusted right, before cracking one of his old notebooks open, and staring at the pages, a small smile of exceeding rarity these days works it’s way up his lips.

Whoosh, go the trees.

Chirpchirpchirp! Go the birds.

She can’t figure out what sound it is that a small, yet fairly deep pond would make, but she can sure as hell hear that too due to the wind and all. Said wind currently in the process of letting her unwind a little bit, as it brushes her hair upwards, letting it flow as she lets out a deep sigh.

“Peaceful.” She registers.

“AUBREEEY! WE’RE HEEEEERRRE!”

Her eyes flare wide as she turns over and gets up, and without even a momentary glance or thought process beyond ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you Kel!!!!’, she grabs her nail-bat. Aggressively speed-stomping towards the source of the noise, who has now come up with a facial expression best described as: ‘oh shit.’

Some time passes after that commotion, and eventually the group has settled down, now having their stomachs pleasantly fed, all that’s left to do is the main activity that comes with every weekly picnic, hang out!

“W-well, that’s exciting! At least Hero will be able to hang out more often! The gang will be back together again!” The timid flower boy says, responding to the exciting news from the future NBA superstar that his brother is soon to be done with college.

“Doesn’t he still have to get a job?” The only other girl besides Aubrey speaks up, that being the aforementioned basketball hopeful’s girlfriend, a sweet girl in Aubrey’s book named Cris.

Aubrey personally finds herself enjoying what Cris has to say most of the time, mostly about the ocean, as being to other, more foreign places is an idea relatively thought out of reach for herself, but she figures that a girl can dream, right?

“Yeah, which means he’ll still be as busy as a bee, maybe even more so.” Aubrey herself adds, a blip of a disappointing tone at the end.

Everybody agrees, sighing out at the bummer they had been dealt by the ways of growing up.

“Well, it won’t ever be the end, we can still make time for each other.” Kel adds reassuringly, his girlfriend nodding her head to the idea and giving his hand a squeeze, the couple now looking at each other with warmth in their eyes, Kel giving a good-natured grin as Aubrey feels a strange sense of...Discomfort? No, that can’t be right, can it? After all, if she were to feel discomfort about two people being together and spending time with each other...

Her mind flashes back to previous events, Hero, Mari, and her...And... Sunny.

All the times that Kel would complain about ‘Mushy mushy stuff’ and ‘cooties’…

Well if she were to complain about them right now, that would make her both a hypocrite, AND no better than Kel!

So she stays quiet, letting the thing play out, even though she could so ruin this moment and give Kel some much-needed payback…

“U-uh-um...If I may suggest an idea…” Basil nervously interjects.

Ah, an answer to her prayers! Somebody else takes the fall for her! Thanks Basil-boy, Aubrey owes ya one!

However she then realizes that all eyes are drawn onto the poor flower boy, making him realize his mistake in drawing all the attention away from the two lovebirds, he lets out a close-lipped squeak, now clamming up.

Aubrey frowns, not appreciative of seeing all her hard work on getting Basil back into the group go to waste, she gives her blonde-haired blue-eyed nervous-Nelly of a friend, a reassuring pat-on-the-back and a smile that says ‘Don't stop now, you got this!'

Inspired by the confidence being directly beamed from her, or at least it appears that way, the anxious teenager continues his presentation.

“What if we have a solid week, or two weeks even, where we spend a bit of vacation time together? O-or how about the whole summer? Hero will be off by then right? M-maybe we could try even...Getting Sunny and his Mom back here to Faraway, I’ve been talking to him still, and he...He doesn’t seem to be doing very well.” He finishes, having briefly broken out into a nervous sweat mid-idea.

The rest of the crew (besides Aubrey) looks around at each other, giving the briefest consideration, as the mood briefly dips for a second, before turning back to him with acknowledgment and agreement in their eyes.

“That sounds great, we totally need to do that! One last summer of fun before it’s time for Hero to hit the working world!” Kel says, adding onto what Basil has displayed before them.

Everyone agrees with nods and other such words, but Aubrey looks on behind them all, she agrees one hundred percent, one last summer together before things are thrown a bit in the air sounds like great fun.

And seeing Sunny again...

Several pictures flash through her mind, snapshots in time from the span of only 3 days.

He looked so fragile back then, she bets she could have picked him up as easy as a stuffed bear.

Or a bony oversized cat.

She feels a warmth stir in her chest yet again, as she remembers the last little moment they had together, besides the goodbye hug as they left town from the hospital.

That talk on the swings, the wind blowing through their hair - through his hair. She sometimes wonders what would've happened, had she just reached out just a little bit more...

As soon as the melancholy turn swings her thought process downwards, she corrects it, feeling hope and other long-thought-dormant feelings, burning in her chest.

There are so many things she still wants to tell him, so many moments she wants to have with him - she still tries talking to him when she has the chance, like at Basil's birthday, but it's still way too difficult nowadays, for him to come back down after so long... To have the gang back together again, it would mean the world to her...

There’s just one problem.

Hero still hasn’t forgiven Sunny yet.