Socks' appearance took you by surprise, and your face fell when they broke free of the crowd and stalked towards you, eyes hard and face decorated in the deepest frown you've ever seen.

'What're you doing here?' you inquired, tone sour and body turned away.

'Taking you home,' they replied curtly. 'Come on.'

'No. I'm having fun. If you want an argument, this isn't the place. Go back to the car.''

'I'm not looking for an argument.'

'Then why did you come here, hm?' you snapped. 'Just because you've taken offence to me bringing someone you don't like doesn't mean you can drag me home.'

Socks' grip on your wrist solidified and they began to walk away, dragging you with them. 'We can talk about this later,' they said.

'(Y/N) doesn't want to go,' Jack piped up coldly, 'so that doesn't give you the right to forcibly drag them away.'

'Shut up, you.' Socks glared at Jack with hatred you could never imagine them possessing. 'If you don't want me to go to the police about the "hobby" you had while you were missing, then don't try and interfere in someone else's relationship.'

'And what "hobby" would that be?' If it wasn't for the glaring lights above, you would have sworn that the corner grew a bit darker with Jack's tone. He pushed himself upright, hands in his pockets, looking, for the first time ever, downright terrifying.

Socks seemed unperturbed by this as they said, 'I can give the whole list, if you want.'

'Go on. I'd love to know what I was up to.'

'Murder, stalking, cannibalism...just to name a few. Not the type of things you want made public, that's for sure.'

You had never heard such bullshit. Jack hurting someone wasn't something you could imagine easily, and neither was stalking or cannibalism. He had been nothing but nice to you and everyone he met, and if there was something dubious about it, Greg would have said something to you by now—or you would have sensed it yourself. Bristling, you yanked your arm away from Socks, disgusted with their accusations.

You opened your mouth to say something in defence of Jack's character, but he beat you to it, seemingly unfazed by what had just been said.

'Do you have any proof?' he inquired. 'If I really did do these things, then surely some proof is needed, otherwise I'm going to end this conversation and politely ask that you leave.'

'I do, actually.' Socks pulled out their phone and, after some tapping, turned the screen around to reveal a grainy picture of a masked person, seemingly hovering over the camera. The mask they wore was a deep blue, with two eye sockets carefully carved out, not showing the face underneath. It looked just like the mask you had seen Jack wearing when he glitched out that one time when you first met him.

You frowned. 'And this proves what, exactly? This could just be a random guy. There's no way this is Jack.'

'This isn't really proof of anything,' Jack said with a laugh. 'Well, since you've tried to defame my character with potentially life-changing accusations, would you mind leaving? Quietly? This work event is for (Y/N) to enjoy themself and chat with their coworkers, so it would be quite a fucking shame if you ruined it.'

'Is that a threat?' Socks demanded, fists clenching.

'It's only a threat if you want it to be. Do everyone a favour and just...leave. It's that simple. Just turn around and walk out. Save this for another day.'

'Please, Socks,' you said. 'Go home. This isn't the time or place for a fight. We can talk about this later.'

'I'm not leaving you alone with this fucker,' they retaliated with a scowl. 'Who knows what he's gonna do.'

'He's not going to do anything! We are, firstly, in a crowded hall, and secondly, good friends. He never has, and never will, hurt me. And I'd never hurt him, so we're even.'

They shook their head, saying, 'Not happening. You may trust him, but I don't.'

'I don't care. Are we really going to go around in circles all fucking night? I don't have the patience for that, so fine. Let's go.' You turned to Jack, giving him a reassuring smile. 'I'll message you when I get home, okay?'

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' he asked quietly. His brows were furrowed in concern, all traces of anger gone from his face.

'It's fine. I've got this. Do you mind telling Gia that I've gone?'

The car ride back to your house was...awkward. The air was thick, making you think that you were inhaling some sort of goop instead of the various gases that made up the atmosphere.

You sat in the passenger seat, one leg folded over the other, staring out the window so you didn't have to look at the driver.

I should have driven to the party instead of going on the bus.

'So,' Socks began. 'Are we gonna talk or just say nothing all the way home?'

'What is there to talk about?' you said dully, not having the energy to put more emotion into your words. 'You don't like Jack. I get it. That's no reason to claim he's a fucking murderer, though.'

'Of course you don't believe me.'

'If you had more proof then I'd consider it, but since that picture was crap, then no, of course I don't believe you.'

'Why do I need to show you proof? You're my partner—you should have more faith in me.'

You turned your head to glare viscously at them. 'You seem to have a skewed perception of what a romantic relationship, because this? This isn't it.'

'What is a romantic relationship then, Mx. "I know everything"?'

Breathing deeply through gritted teeth, you said, 'It's not something I can put into words right now. It's more of a feeling then an explanation.'

'So what're you feeling about this?' They gestured between your body and theirs. 'About us.'

'That it's a mistake. We should've stayed as friends.'

Socks threw one hand in the air. 'Great. Brilliant. You tell me now that all of this was a mistake. Thanks for that, (Y/N).'

'I only agreed to date you because I'd feel bad if I declined, okay?!' you exclaimed, voice rising. 'It's only been recently that things have gone downhill.'

'Downhill how, exactly?' Socks asked, 'cause it's been pretty fucking dandy for me.'

'You haven't been acting like you usually do. It's like you're an entirely different person for no goddamn reason and I can't deal with it anymore. I didn't sign up to date an arsehole, so this is it. We're done. Drop me off at home.'

'This is it?' they echoed. 'We're breaking up?'

'Yes, Socks, we're breaking up. Do I have to spell it out for you? You aren't the best friend I would die for—you just...aren't that person anymore. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to say.'

'Can we not fix it?'

You shook your head. 'Not at this point. There's no feelings between us anymore, and the way we talk is like two brick walls. Why do you think I've been trying so hard to get you to do things with me? Dating isn't the same as being friends, and this didn't feel anything like a relationship. I'd love to stay friends with you, but we can't go on as partners.'

You both lapsed into silence, and it wasn't long before the track that led to your house appeared, as well as the shadowy trees that waved back and forth with the wind.

'Why did you accuse Jack of all those horrible things?' you questioned. 'I know that we don't have to like everybody, but saying all that was too far.'

'I don't...I don't know. It's something I knew about since he reappeared. That and he gives me the creeps.'

'Weird.' You furrowed your brows. 'I'll walk back from here. See you.' And with that, you opened the car door, got out, and walked away from Socks, not turning back to wave goodbye, or even acknowledge any form of response. A plan was whirling around your mind, and you had to be sure you were alone before attempting to contact the one being who might have answers to your questions.

You waited until the lights from Socks' car had vanished before you called out in a shaking voice, 'H-Hello? Slenderman? I have a question to ask.'

Nothing happened.

'Listen, I know we didn't really end on good terms last time we spoke about, uh, I don't remember what it was but it was probably important, but this is important too! And you probably know something about it. At least, I hope you do.' You were rambling, fear spiking up in your blood as you looked around the forest almost frantically, searching for the horrifyingly familiar white-skinned entity.

Again, nothing.

You sighed. 'Maybe tomorrow, then. Please don't tie me to a chair this time!' Letting your fear get the best of you, you nigh-on ran back to your house, glancing past trees as you went, making sure that your phone torch was on its brightest setting.

This might have been a bad idea, you thought, but what other information sources do I have? Other Pastas know stuff, sure, but no one knows as much as he does. It's a no-brainer, really.

As you retreated into the warmth and comfort of your home, you felt the gaze on your back diminish with each step.