A strange tranquility had settled over the festival. People still screamed as they rode the roller coaster. Children still charged pell-mell through the crowd. Families still laughed. But while that noise had seemed intrusive before, it now felt like a blanket that surrounded Blue and Green in a warm haze. They walked hand-in-hand, each feeling the electricity that was radiating through their whole body from the touch of the other.

Green couldn’t think straight. Their mind was a blur of emotion and sensation. How many times had they held Blue’s hand before today? Hundreds, thousands? But now they were acutely aware of every detail of that hand. The smooth softness of Blue’s palm. The way Blue’s wrist automatically curved, ever so slightly, as though they were resting it above a piece of drawing paper. The small callus on Blue’s third finger from countless hours spent holding pencils and pens and colors and watercolors. It was all these tiny details, these little things that made Blue who they were, that washed over Green like a flood.

Blue felt Green’s grip on their hand tighten a bit, but the strength of that grip was welcome, not painful. Blue’s mind swirled with the competitive glint in Green’s eye, the rough quality of their voice, the smile Green always flashed when they were pushing Blue to do something scary – a you’ll thank me later smile.

The two of them caught each other’s eye and quickly looked away. The ferris wheel was getting close.

Two ticket purchases later, Blue and Green climbed into a ferris wheel car. There wasn’t much room in the car, but they left a bit of space between them on the seat by unspoken consent. Blue looked up at the sky. A few stars were glimmering through the light pollution, twinkling down on the festival with warm enthusiasm.

The ferris wheel groaned to life. The car ascended a bit as the final car was boarded. Green found themself tapping their leg impatiently. For reasons they couldn’t think clearly about right now, all they wanted was for the ride to get moving. They wanted to be as far away from the crowd as possible. They wanted…

…To be alone with Blue.

Surprising even themself, Blue said, “Maybe I should set up a booth here at the festival next year, try and sell some artwork.” Their eyes were still fixed on the stars.

“Yeah!” Green burst out, a bit too enthusiastically.

They turned a bit red and quickly looked out the other side of the car before Blue could see them blushing. Why the hell are you blushing?! Green interrogated themself. You’ve never been embarrassed around Blue before. Why are you so nervous all the sudden?!

Blue turned toward Green, their expression earnest. “You really think it’s a good idea?”

“Of course,” Green murmured, still looking out the ferris wheel car. “Your stuff sells well on the street, I bet it’d make a shit ton in a place like this.”

Blue had started to sell their artwork on the street a few months before. Though Blue had come up with the idea themself, it was Green who had encouraged them to do it. Just like always.

“Your art is too damn good to hide anymore, Blue!” They had insisted. “If you want to sell your art, then sell your art!”

“I… I don’t know, maybe it was a stupid idea…”

“Think of it this way. If your art is actually good, it’ll sell easy! You’ll be able to pay me back for all those burgers.”

Blue ignored the teasing jab. When they looked up, Green was surprised at the deep seriousness in their eyes.

“And what if my art isn’t actually good?”

Green met Blue’s eyes. There was no more teasing, no more joking. Some deep part of them both understood how important this was.

“It is,” Green said simply.

And in that moment, Blue believed Green completely.

It started small. Blue set up a small folding table with cardboard easels displaying three carefully picked pieces. Each one represented the best of their work. The first piece depicted an elaborate design for a ballgown. The second piece was a landscape painting of the view from Green’s roof. Finally, the third piece was a more abstract swirl of colors and geometric shapes.

All three pieces were sold within two hours.

From then on, Blue would set up their folding table every Saturday with more art for sale. It was Green who noticed that the clothing design art was always the first to go. It seemed that people were hungry for new fashion designs in this clothing-minded world.

“If people like your designs this much, you should try to work for The Clothiers!” Green joked once.

Blue had just shaken their head in mock exasperation and kept drawing.

The ferris wheel came to a stop one more time as the final people in line boarded a car. Blue and Green were high above the festival grounds now, but their car was nowhere near the top of the massive wheel. With a slight shudder and a squeak, the wheel began to slowly turn.

As Green and Blue watched, the ground sank away from them, the tents and booths shrinking into a blur of color illuminated by pools of multi-colored light. In the distance, the night skyline of Central City twinkled with millions of lights shining out of windows.

Neither of them spoke a word. They looked anywhere but at each other.

Green felt a tremendous longing ache within them. More than anything, they just wanted to turn to Blue, hold them tight, and tell them… Tell them what? They really weren’t sure. The words wouldn’t emerge from the blur of emotional fog that was their mind.

The ferris wheel car was nearly at the top now.

Green was fighting a war within themself. They couldn’t shake off the feeling that their time was limited. That, somehow, once this ferris wheel car began its descent to the ground once more, there wouldn’t be another chance. Another chance to… To what?!

But they knew the answer to that.

Their ferris wheel car swung a bit as the ride stopped. They were at the top. From here, they could see the entire city stretched out around them like a video game map. A night breeze blew through the ferris wheel car, cool but not cold.

It was so quiet up here.

So peaceful.

Green turned toward Blue. The words started pouring from their mouth before they fully realized they even intended to speak. “Blue, I really need to tell you something. I really like-”

But Green never finished their sentence.

Because Blue leaned in and kissed them.

Electric warmth flooded both of their bodies, washing over their chests and flowing down their arms. The sensation of their lips touching one another felt simultaneously blissfully safe and perilously dangerous.

Their hearts raced. Green’s hand lightly touched Blue’s cheek.

Then, slowly, reluctantly, they separated.

Green couldn’t stop smiling. Blue was breathing hard. There was a fire in their eyes that Green had never seen before.

“I love you, Green,” Blue said.

Green blinked. Their smile widened. They nodded. For some reason, they couldn’t speak, but Blue seemed to understand that.

The ferris wheel shuddered to life once more, but neither of them was looking at the scenery anymore. Their first kiss was quickly joined by many more as the ferris wheel car descended.

The noise of the festival grew louder.

***

Bonaparte heard light footsteps behind him. He sniffed.

“So what’s this all about?” Tiny asked. “This wasn’t the plan, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know. But I just got a feeling. I think tonight’s our best chance,” Bonaparte replied. He stroked his waxed mustache thoughtfully. “Something tells me the artist is going to skip town before we can make our move.”

“You and your feelings,” Tiny muttered.

Bonaparte just shrugged. “Least I’m doing something about it.” He didn’t see the look in Tiny’s eyes, and if he had, he might not have kept talking. “Spats shoulda given me this job from the start. I woulda gotten it done already.”

Tiny just grunted, then he turned his watchful eyes back to the ferris wheel. This punk was asking for it, but now wasn’t the time.

The two men lurked in the darkness that concealed a narrow walkway between two tents, watching, waiting. One car at a time, people were beginning to disembark from the ferris wheel. Bonaparte’s sharp eyes were fixed on the car he had watched Blue and Green board. It was five cars away. Now four. Three.

“There!” Bonaparte hissed.

He pointed at the ferris wheel gate, where Blue and Green were now exiting the ride. They were hand-in-hand like before, but… Bonaparte’s eyes narrowed. Something was different now.

Then Blue and Green kissed.

“How cute,” Tiny snorted. “They’re in love.”

“Looks that way,” Bonaparte replied. The gears in his mind were turning. This didn’t bode well for their plan. How would they snatch the artist now?

“We’d better nab ‘em both.”

Bonaparte felt a quick pang of surprise. “…What?”

Tiny didn’t respond. The hulking man stepped out of the shadows and began to wade through the crowd toward their target. After a moment, Bonaparte followed, trying to get Tiny’s attention with hissing whispers.

“Why… Tiny, really… Wait, ya big asshole… Tiny! Why would we… why do you want both of them, you idiot?!”

Tiny chuckled again. It was a quiet sound that no one else in the festival crowds seemed to notice, but it sent a chill down Bonaparte’s spine. The giant whispered back a single word, leering like a wolf.

“Leverage.”

***

All Blue knew was the thundering of their heart, the heat of their veins, the touch of Green’s hand. This felt so right. A weight that they hadn’t even realized they’d been carrying was lifted, and the liberation was wonderful.

They smiled at Green. Green winked back.

How long? Blue wondered. How long had they felt this way? How long had they buried those feelings deep, deep down? And why had they been buried? And when had they started? And what was it about tonight that had changed everything?

Green gave their hand a little squeeze. All Blue’s questions evaporated. They were left with nothing but a pleasant haze in their mind and a warm glow in their heart.

The questions didn’t matter. Not really. Besides, some deep part of them knew the answers already. Maybe what happened tonight hadn’t been some unforeseen event. Maybe, somewhere at Blue’s core, they had known exactly what would happen when the two of them boarded the ferris wheel. When the two of them started the competition. When the two of them arrived at the festival in the first place.

None of that mattered anymore. It was all in the past - the irrelevant, far-away past. Now they had kissed. Their hands were clasped together in a way they never had been before, with their fingers interlocked. Now they were… a couple.

A couple.

There was a light tug on their arm as Green came to a stop and sat on a bench. Blue sat next to them, enjoying the feeling of Green’s leg against theirs.

They were both quiet for a long moment, watching the people pass by. It was getting late. Festivalgoers were starting to head home for the night, and the crowd was thinning.

“So, uh… are we…” Green asked timidly.

Blue’s eyes met Green’s with a sparkle that gave Green goosebumps.

“Mhm!” Blue smiled.

Green smiled back. “Good,” they said softly, and kissed Blue again. “That’s good.”

Green sighed contentedly and leaned their head on Blue’s shoulder. Their vibrant green hair whispered against Blue’s electric locks. Blue could get used to that warm weight on their shoulder. After a moment, they rested their head against Green’s as well.

The sound of the festival was fading away. The distant calliope, the passing children, the rattle and roar of the rides… It was all just… fading… into…

Silence.

Peace.

“Green?”

“Yeah?”

“How long have you known?

“Hmm… I think a long time. What about you?”

“Yeah. Long time. But you know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I… knew… Until tonight. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

As it so often did, Blue’s mind began to imagine a vision of a drawing. It wasn’t so much that they saw a finished piece of art in their head. The vision was more like an impression of the way the finished piece would make them feel. Certain details slipped in and out of focus – a bold curved line here, a patch of color there. But the feeling was the thing. The feeling that the drawing would depict this moment, right now. A picture of the two of them, heads leaning against one another, eyes closed, content, floating in a mist of fairy lights.

“Green?” Blue asked.

“Hm?”

“What’s next?”

“Like… what do we do now?”

“Yeah.”

Green laughed softly. “I guess, now… We do whatever we want. We live the life we want to live. Together.”

“I like that,” Blue smiled. “Together.”

“Blue?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

Blue burst out laughing. Green joined in. The sound of their laughter was bright and clear. It was a young sound. A hopeful sound.

A vulnerable sound.

A night mist was thickening in the air. A huge dark shape loomed in that mist. It advanced slowly toward the blue-haired artist and their green-haired partner, drawn by the sound of their laughter.

Green saw him first. A mountain of a man emerged from the mist like a ship from ocean fog. The man was dressed in a dark grey double-breasted suit and wore a dark hat that was a little too small for him. His broad chest and broader belly strained the buttons of his shirt. A small pair of hungry eyes peered out from under a heavy brow at the two of them.

Oh, come on man, don’t come over here… Green thought. Whatever this creep wanted, it was sure to spoil the moment. And right now, the moment was all that mattered.

Maybe he was just giving them a weird look. Maybe his head was about to turn toward the festival exit, and he would just walk away with the crowd. Maybe he’d leave, just get the hell out of here, and he wouldn’t spoil the moment.

But he was still walking right toward them.

Green watched him from the corner of their eye, trying to look like they hadn’t noticed him. Then another shape materialized beside him. This shape was much smaller, but seemed familiar.

Green felt a pang of fear as they recognized the man with the waxed mustache.

The two men came to a stop just yards away from the bench. Blue opened their eyes, and Green felt, more than heard, the sharp intake of breath from their surprise. Blue’s grip on Green’s hand tightened.

Green began instinctively scanning their surroundings for an escape route.

There was none.

“Evening,” the giant man said. “Having a good time?”

“Oh, you know, the best,” Green replied lightly. They felt the hair on their arms standing up. Every sense was working overtime. The smell of discarded festival food was sharp and salty in the air.

The man with the waxed mustache stepped forward. “Why don’t you come with us, friends?”

Blue’s eyes narrowed coldly. “Shouldn’t you be working your booth?”

The man smiled and shrugged. “Think I’m gonna retire from the festival racket, you know? So I got all the time in the world. Let’s all have a conversation, what do you say?”

The giant man snorted. “Don’t bother with that shit, Bonaparte. These two kids know what’s best for ‘em. You’re gonna come with us, right now, quietly. Aren’t you?”

Green rose to their feet, releasing Blue’s hand. They raised their fists and lowered into a fighting stance.

“Like hell we are,” Green said evenly.

“Bonaparte? That’s a weird name,” Blue said, joining Green. Adrenaline burned through them like gasoline on fire.

Bonaparte sighed. “You really don’t want to do this, kids. My friend Tiny here will shove your heads all the way up your asses. No need for that, right? Right. Now come on. Nice and quiet. This is your last chance.”

The giant man, Tiny, cracked his neck. He glared down at the two of them with a menacing smirk.

“What do you want with us?” Blue asked, mind racing. They could almost hear the gears turning in Green’s brain beside them. Just got to buy some time. Just got to buy a few seconds! Green would figure it out. Green always figured it out.

I guess, now… we do whatever we want.

It would all be okay. It all had to be okay.

“Just want to have a conversation’s all, right, Bonaparte?” Tiny said.

“Yeah, that’s all,” Bonaparte nodded. “We’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time, Blue.”

“Leave them alone,” Green growled, and took a quick step forward.

It happened so suddenly that Blue didn’t even realize it at first. One moment Tiny was standing there looking down on them, and the next moment he had closed the distance between them, and his massive fist was flashing out, smashing into Green like a sledgehammer. There was a clatter and a sharp KANG as something hit the metal of the bench behind them.

Blue looked at the empty space where Green had just been, then whipped around to see Green crumpled on the bench. Green’s eyes were closed. They weren’t moving.

“GREE–“ Blue started to scream, but was suddenly cut off by a hand clamping over their mouth.

Bonaparte’s voice hissed in their ear. “Quiet. Tiny’s just knocked ‘em out, that’s all. Just come with us, nice and easy… And he won’t kill ‘em.”

All the fight evaporated from Blue’s body at the sound of those words. Kill ‘em… Kill Green? No… No! Their shoulders slumped and they stopped straining against Bonaparte’s grip. They nodded, breathing hard.

“Good,” Bonaparte purred, then looked at Tiny. “You’re smarter than you look,” he said.

The giant just grunted as he hoisted Green over his shoulder.

Blue’s heart jolted at the sight of a trickle of blood running out of Green’s mouth. They couldn’t look away from that bright red line. It was such a contrast against the vibrant green of their hair. They were dimly aware that they were being moved, steered, into the darkness, away from the festival. Their legs moved obediently, but their horrified eyes never left that red line on Green’s chin.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. This made no sense. None of it. None of it at all.

Then a bag was pulled over Blue’s head, and they couldn’t see anything anymore.

***

Later, when Blue would try to remember what happened next, the only thing they would be able to recall was the feeling of the bag’s cloth against their face.

The cloth was soft and thick. The heat of their breath and sweat made them feel like their head was stuck in a sauna. They could breathe, but they still felt suffocated. The voices of the men who had kidnapped them were muffled to the point of incomprehensibility.

The journey felt endless. It seemed to have multiple stages. Now they were walking, now they were standing still, riding on something moving – an elevator? - now they were sitting in a car, now they were climbing stairs.

Later, Blue would wish they had paid closer attention to this journey, that they had somehow gathered some piece of information that might help them to escape with Green. But in the moment, there was only a single thought that dominated Blue’s mind, over and over again, repeating like a religious chant.

Please let Green be okay. Please, please, please let Green be okay. Please, Green, be okay… Please…

***

A rush of cool air hit Blue’s face as the bag was ripped off their head. Suddenly they were panting, coughing, gasping for breath. They clamped their eyes shut against the light that filled whatever room they were now in. There was a murmur of voices around them, but these didn’t seem so important at the moment. All that mattered was that the suffocating darkness of the bag was gone. At least, now, they would be able to breathe properly.

A hand clapped painfully on their shoulder. The feeling of this unfamiliar touch was a shock to Blue’s system. Suddenly the fog fell away, and they could hear a new voice with perfect clarity. It was a man’s voice. It sounded like a reasonable voice, perhaps even a kind voice.

“You alright, kid?” The voice was asking. “These jamokes didn’t bang you up too bad, did they?”

Blue squinted, slowly opening their eyes as they adjusted to the light. Now that they could see a bit, it seemed that the light wasn’t actually very bright in here after all – it was rather dim, in fact.

They took in their surroundings in a flash of understanding. They were sitting on a small chair in a large room. There was an ornate chair in front of them, almost like this was a throne room. A sultry woman was leaning against the chair, smoking a cigarette, looking bored. Blue sensed the presence of others in the room as well, though they couldn’t see them. Well, all except for one of them.

There was a man in front of Blue, kneeling down to look them in the eyes. His face was handsome, but there was something scary about that face, too. Maybe it was the way the light lines of age were already marking his young features, or maybe it was the look in his eyes that spoke of blood and murder. Either way, here was a man that was dangerous. Blue understood that on a primal level.

It was this man who had spoken. He wore a white button-down with its sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pair of black suspenders on his slacks, and a pair of immaculate white spats over his shoes. His hair was somewhat tousled, and the cigar clamped between his teeth looked a bit beaten up, as though he had just finished with some particularly vigorous physical activity. He retracted his hand from Blue’s shoulder, and a cold pit of fear dropped into their stomach when they saw blood on the man’s knuckles.

Blood. Oh, god, blood… Is it on me? Did he ruin my shirt? Blue thought wildly.

“Hi, nice to meet ya, Blue. I’m Spats. Guess they did a number on you, huh?” The man continued. He looked at Blue closely, waiting for a response, then shook his head and sighed patiently. “No problem, Blue. Just give me a sec, alright?”

Blue’s eyes followed Spats as he stood and stalked to their right. A terrified chill washed over Blue’s whole body as they saw the man standing over a crumpled body on the floor. A man was lying there, twisted and crumpled and bleeding.

“So listen, Bonaparte,” Spats said. “I know you meant well and all, but you went way over the line, didn’t you? Calling shots like you’re a general or some shit, bossing Tiny around like he’s some kinda dumb mook. You a dumb mook, Tiny?”

Tiny. That name. Oh, god, that name. The giant?

Heart pounding, Blue turned a bit further to better see what was going on.

It was Tiny, alright. The misnamed – or maybe ironically named, Blue didn’t know which – giant was leaning against a wall, arms folded, looking down on the beaten man with an expression of indifference. He just shook his head a bit, which seemed to satisfy Spats.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so, Tiny. See, Bonaparte, I don’t let dumb mooks be officers. You know why that is? It’s because if I let a dumb piece of shit like you call the shots, everything would go sideways.”

“I… I got the artist… Heurch… I… I did it though, Spats… Didn’t I?” The beaten man groaned and coughed. Blue recognized him now. It was Bonaparte, the man with the waxed mustache.

Got the artist? Blue thought hazily. What was it Bonaparte had said earlier? “We’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time, Blue…”

Fear gripped Blue’s guts and gave them a cruel twist. What the hell was going on here? Why would they want me? I’m nobody!

Spats seemed to consider what Bonaparte had said. Then he squatted down beside the mustached man, hands clasped together. “What are trying to say, Bonaparte? Are you trying to say, the ends justify the means? Is that what you’re trying to say, my friend?”

Spats’ voice was light, casual. Deadly.

Bonaparte was catching his breath. His words came out easier now. “No, no Spats, I swear… I stepped over the line, I screwed up, I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again, Spats. Never. Never.”

Spats gave Bonaparte a long, thoughtful look. Then he held out a hand to Tiny, who slapped a small revolver into it.

Bonaparte began to squirm and wheeze frantically at the sight of the gun. Spats raised an eyebrow quizzically, then shrugged at Tiny. The big man just shook his head.

“Here’s the thing, Bonaparte,” Spats said. “You did screw up. You did. But you’re right – you brought me the artist. And that deserves a reward. In my mind, it all balances out in the end, don’t you think?”

Bonaparte’s wet eyes shone with hope. He nodded quickly, not daring to speak.

“Besides, like you said, you just wanted to help out. You saw an opportunity, and you got excited. Thought you’d bring in a big catch for the boss, right? Sure.”

Blue’s head was swimming. None of this made sense. Why was Bonaparte being punished? Weren’t they all working together? What was going on here? Was it really because Bonaparte had somehow overstepped his authority?

Spats stood and nodded to one of the nearby thugs, who helped Bonaparte to his feet. The man looked ravaged, like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. His face was swollen and distorted, and his clothes were torn and bloodstained. He looked at Spats with the trepidation of a criminal before a judge. Spats gave him a measured look.

“All is forgiven, Bonaparte. We’ll call those bruises good enough punishment, all things considered.”

“Th-Thank you, Spats! Thank you!” Bonaparte wept.

Spats nodded, then stepped closer. He leaned in toward Bonaparte’s ear, and though he spoke softly, it was clear that he wanted everyone in the room to hear what he was saying.

“Never disrespect my authority again,” he said.

Bonaparte trembled, looked like he was about to speak, and then just nodded. Then the guards led him out the door, meek as a lamb. Tiny watched him go with a satisfied expression.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Spats said to Blue, wiping the blood off his hands with a towel. “Family business, you understand. Sometimes daddy’s gotta give a whoopin’. Right, Doll?”

The sultry woman leaning on the throne just winked at Spats and took another drag on her cigarette.

“Where is Green?” Blue demanded.

“Your friend is just fine,” Spats said, walking over and sitting down in the throne. He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes focused intently on Blue’s. “First things first, we have business to discuss.”

“Business?”

“See, I’m a big fan of your art. Such a big fan, in fact, that I want to hire you for an important job.”

Blue just frowned in confusion. Spats seemed to take it in stride.

“See, I’ve been looking for an artist like you for a long time,” he continued. “One of my soldiers came across your work on the street a while back, and ever since then I’ve wanted to meet you. I’ll get right to the point: you’re going to help me to pull off the biggest heist in history!”

“What are you talking about?!”

There was a strange glint in Spats’ eyes as he spoke his next words. “We’re going to steal the secret of powerful fashion statements from The Clothiers!”

DA-DOOM!

Blue’s jaw dropped in horrified amazement. Was this guy insane? He was talking about stealing the most closely-guarded secret in the world. It was impossible, unthinkable, and incredibly dangerous. To move against The Clothiers was to move against the Five Presidents and against the entire world order.

And he wants MY help to do it?!

“Here’s the plan,” Spats smiled. “We’re going to get you hired by The Clothiers using some of your fantastic clothing design artwork. Then, you steal the secrets and bring ‘em back to me. It’s that simple.”

“I can’t,” Blue said. Their voice was distant, hollow. “I can’t do that, I’m sorry. There’s no way my art is good enough, and even if it was, I’m not a thief. There’s no way I could pull off something like that!”

“You know what you need?” Spats asked. “Some proper motivation.”

He nodded to one of the guards, who knocked twice on a door Blue hadn’t noticed until now. The door slid open, and two more thugs entered, each holding one of Green’s arms. Blue’s heart stopped. Green’s face was heavily bruised, even worse than Bonaparte’s had been. Their hands were tied behind them, they were gagged with a white cloth, and from the way their feet dragged on the floor, they didn’t look like they could even stand on their own.

Tears sprang to Blue’s eyes. “Green…” They whispered hoarsely.

Green looked up at Blue. Despite everything, there was a defiant light in their eyes. They hadn’t given up yet.

“So let’s make a deal,” Spats said pleasantly, ignoring Blue’s horror. “If you’ll help me steal The Clothiers’ secret, then I’ll let you and your little friend go. I’ll even pay you for your trouble. But, if you refuse…” He shrugged, as if to say that going into more detail would be distasteful.

And, to be fair, it probably would be.

Blue looked back and forth from Spats to Green, tears rolling down their cheeks. Shock and horror rolled over them in ever-increasing waves. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

But it was.

Green growled with effort as they managed to push the gag out of their mouth. Their voice was husky with pain as they spoke.

“Blue…”

One of the thugs raised a fist to punch Green, but Spats held up a hand. He looked at Blue and jerked his head toward Green. Blue immediately understood. Permission was granted. They could talk to Green.

Blue scrambled to Green’s side, nearly tripping as they did so. They took Green’s head in their hands and looked in their eyes. They kept trying to speak, but no words would come out.

“Blue,” Green groaned, “I love you.”

“I… I love you too…” Blue sobbed. They pulled Green in for a hug, wrapping their arms tight around them.

The sound of the room was fading away. The murmuring thugs, the puff of the woman’s cigarette, the ragged sound of Green’s breathing… It was all just… fading… into…

Silence.

Peace.

“Green?”

“Yeah?”

“What do we do now?”

Green laughed softly, wincing as they did so. “I guess, now… We survive… So that we can live the life we want to live. Together.”

Blue nodded, choking back tears. “I’m going to save you. I promise.”

“I know.”

Spats cleared his throat loudly. The thugs chuckled, mocking Blue and Green.

“Alright,” said Spats. “So what’s it gonna be, Blue? Are you in?”

Blue sniffled and furiously wiped the tears from their eyes. Then they stood and whirled on Spats.

“I help you, and you set us free. That’s the deal?”

Spats smiled and held out a hand. “That’s the deal.”

Blue glared at Spats. “Alright. I’m in.”

They shook hands.

“Alright Tiny, why don’t you show our new friend to the art studio we’ve set up?” Spats said.

Tiny grunted and walked toward Blue. The thugs holding Green began to drag them out of the room again. Blue and Green locked eyes, each willing the other to understand. To know.

I love you.

Then Green was gone.

Tiny led Blue down a hallway and into a small room. A pitiful cot lay in one corner next to a drawing desk that was covered in papers and art supplies.

“Welcome home,” the giant rumbled, giving Blue a shove. They staggered into the room, heart pounding.

Then there was a loud CLICK behind them as the door was shut and locked.

And Blue was alone.