game; Kingdom Hearts II
pairing; Hayner/Roxas [SeiferHayner, SetzerRoxas]
warnings; shonen-ai, some curses & violence, spoilers
disclaimer; I do not own Kingdom Hearts II or any of the characters used.
He had just turned seven and it was like the whole wide world opened up to him.
Between the constant trips to the nurse's office (because he had gotten into a fight again, and seriously, why couldn't he just behave like the good little boy they all knew he was, and didn't he know that fighting got him nowhere and-) and the rush of wind that hit him when he was swinging back and forth, back and forth on the big swings of the playground that seemed to dangle off the sky because he was so high up, he finally noticed.
The sulky kid with dirty blonde spikes that were standing like a disheveled halo, gravity-defying in every way, was looking at him. Had been looking at him for quite some time now, actually.
"Hayner?" his friend since kinder garden and currently the only girl that didn't classify as icky (because she was Olette and nothing else, and she was really not like the other girls who just giggled and blinked their sky-blue eyes and tied their silky smooth hair back into pigtails) called, turning her head so that she could get a better look at what had caught Hayner's attention. "Hayner, what is it?"
The boy standing by the slides (without actually sliding, he merely observed the whole playground with his huge blue eyes) seemed to notice the curious looks sent his way, and he smiled (smirked), but made no move to come closer.
"That's the new kid", Olette then explained, knowing exactly what her friend was wondering without having to ask, "Apparently, he doesn't talk much. Well, I'm sure he's nice though."
Hayner didn't say anything, he just returned the intent gaze before jumping off the swing and, ignoring the weird look Olette send his way, mumbled something about dinner being ready.
He didn't look back, but he could practically feel those eyes on his back, making his skin itch and his small fingertips twitch.
Needless to say, they became the best of friends.
It only took a day or two for Hayner to actually approach the boy, asking if he wanted to play pirates by the old oak tree.
The boy ("Roxas", he had said later, sea-salt ice cream pressed against his blue-stained lips, "My name.") just smiled knowingly, as if he'd been expecting it (and maybe he had) before accepting.
And then it just built from there; soon, Hayner would come to his apartment, slim finger pressed against the door bell and eyes huge as he first laid them upon Roxas' mom; hair tousled, wrinkles embedded in her once-beautiful face and a moss-green bottle with dark thick liquid grasped in her bony hand that was barely visible due to the over-sized sleeves of her pajamas.
"Is this Roxas' place?" his tentative voice asked, and she gave him an unimpressed look before she turned and yelled 'Roxas! It's for you!', stumbling back into what was probably her room.
And then Roxas was in the hallway, eyes calm and wise and everything a seven-year-old's eyes weren't supposed to be.
"Wanna go to the Sandlot?" Hayner asked - more like demanded - and before even giving the other boy a chance to react, Hayner had secured a tight hold on his wrist, pulling him down the stairs.
When he looked back, those deep blue eyes were as collected as always; but he still found himself convinced that there was a slight change of size in them, just a fraction wider than usual. Roxas ducked his head upon the other boy's steady gaze, and Hayner couldn't see his face at all anymore.
&&&
Twelve years old, locked inside of a closet and his head was spinning; it could have something to do with the strong smell Roxas wore though; something sharp and tangy, yet dampened by body heat. Was it cologne? Where had Roxas gotten that?
"What's wrong with you? Your face is red", the spiky-haired boy observed in his monotone voice, hands searching for the key they had lost somewhere in the darkness ('Mom forgot to change the light bulbs in here', was his explanation).
"It's not", Hayner argued, trying to calm the blood rushing to his cheeks and staining them a cherry-red, merely because of (oh good lord) how close the other was.
"Hey, Hayner", the blue-eyed boy pledged nonchalantly, "You ever been kissed?"
The other frowned.
"Nah. You?"
A shrug was his only response. "Kinda. Want me to teach you?"
He could've named a million reasons why he should have declined immediately - mostly phrases picked up from the soaps his mum usually watched on Sundays - but somehow the words were lost against his dry lips.
"Wha- I'm- And you-" was the only thing his twisting tongue could form.
Roxas shrugged again. He looked positively bored.
"But we're both boys!" Hayner finally squeaked, almost flinching at the high-pitched octave he managed to reach (damn puberty to hell).
"Don't be a kid", Roxas reasoned, and then he leaned in, not giving the other a chance to think it through as his cold lips pressed against Hayner's shivering ones.
It was a firm pressure. Hayner was held in place by Roxas' hand on his elbow, eyes tightly shut. When the slightly shorter of the two pulled away, a loud smacking sound echoed in the small closet. Hayner stared right ahead, face flushed.
"There is the tongue-version also. Would you like me to show you?"
And Hayner swallowed as the inner battle between his reasonable side and his irrational side started all over again.
Roxas made the choice for him, though, and as wet, soft sounds filled the small space they were in, the sandy-haired boy realized that this kissing-thing wasn't so bad after all.
When they finally got out of the closet (not like that) it was as if nothing had happened. Roxas never mentioned it again, and Hayner, too embarrassed to bring it up, didn't either.
&&&
Years passed slowly but surely, just like he knew it would, and Hayner came to some very important milestones.
He and Roxas grew up, but never apart, just like they were supposed to.
Skinny little runts who ran around town with their worn-out skateboards under their arms (it was all for show, really, neither of them was that good at skating) soon became 'big boys'.
(Hayner turned thirteen and on his birthday party there were no party hats or chocolate cake, his favourite - instead, there was loud music with gut-drumming beats and computer-fixed voices, there were girls with mascara lumps framing their round eyes and lipstick borrowed from their mommies smeared across rose-petal mouths).
Roxas was there, right next to him, just like always. Pence, a chubby kid that Hayner had helped get away from some of their class mates when they tried beating him up during P.E was by his side, too. And Olette with her optimistic words and contagious laughter too.
The circle was complete; the four of them soon became quite well-known, almost like a private bubble surrounded them and no invaders were welcome, and if they were seen without each other people would raise their eyebrows and go, 'Oh, where are the others?'.
Hayner didn't know what to make of it, but he supposed it wasn't really that bad to hang out with different people. He and Roxas stayed best friends - probably because it was just too damn hard to cut certain bonds off (not that he'd ever want to), but he found himself enjoying the company of Olette and Pence more and more.
There was this punk, though, and he annoyed the hell out of Hayner. Constantly screaming threats at him, claiming that Hayner thought way too highly of himself and needed to be put in place since he was such a chicken-wuss.
See, Seifer Almasy was definitely known around town; he was only a year older than the rest of them but he had been busted several times for smoking in school and delivering 'stuff' somewhere in the outskirts of Twilight Town - he had already managed to get himself expelled for two weeks because of a rather violent fight in school that had ended with some kid's busted nose and a rather foul-looking black eye.
Hayner didn't know what the older boy had against him, but he didn't particularly care. It seemed like he was the only one around who was somewhat of a match for Seifer (their numerous fights were inevitable considering the bad temper both seemed to posses).
The sandy-haired boy made sure to mostly stay out of his way, though, first and foremost for Roxas' sake.
He was, after all, the one who had pierced Hayner with his ice-tinted eyes on a field trip a couple of years ago, claiming firmly that he "disliked meaningless fighting" after discussing the bout of two guys in senior year.
And as they (RoxasHaynerPenceOlette - seen as a whole instead of individuals) ran across town upsetting the old ladies watering the flowers by their window sill who'd frown and tsk and shake their head while the four friends gasped for air because of all the laughing, Hayner felt alive.
&&&
The earth had spun fourteen times around the sun since the birth of a little boy with hazel-eyes when Hayner found himself sitting on the bench behind school, cigarette pressed to his thin lips and smoke getting into his eyes and the heat causing sweat to run down the side of his face, all at once.
(It was July and it got so impossibly hot during the summers, mostly because of all of the buildings standing so close together leaving the heat trapped nowhere to go - if only he'd been living by the beach..)
Roxas sat on the ground in front of him, his eyes wary and not once leaving Hayner as the latter coughed and tried to look cool while inhaling for all he was worth. How the hell did Roxas manage to do it so well?
"Take it easy", came the low voice Hayner had gotten so used to. "There's no need to do it so fast. Just keep it in your lungs for some time, and then you exhale."
Hayner coughed again, mumbling something that sounded like I know, I know before trying again. The puff of smoke rose to the sky and it looked so pretty curling around Roxas' bent form, his face clouded as the smoke trailed between them.
Olette would look at him with knitted eyebrows and plain worry shining through her mossy eyes, asking why he spent so much time with the older kids - didn't he know that they were only using him, and seriously, he should not trust people just like that-
(Hayner nodded because Olette was usually right, more often than not, and it wasn't the first time her advice had saved him a lot of trouble, but it was just hard not to feel that sting of pride in his chest everytime the older kids who stood in a circle and looked positively unapproachable called him over.)
Pence didn't say much, but he always had that camera in his back pocket, constantly snapping pictures of the four of them whenever he had the opportunity to.
"You'll thank me someday, you know", he chided when Olette screeched and threatened to jab her flute down his throat the next time he took a snapshot when she was looking a mess, "When you look at them and remember all the things we've done!".
And they still met by the Hangout every single day right after school, finding new things to do despite the time spent undivided in each other's presence. It became sort of a blur since the routines of Twilight Town affected Hayner, molded him, despite his trying to break all of the habits.
Walk mindlessly around town, check. Eat sea-salt ice cream, check. Have an occasional fight with Seifer, check. Get yelled at by his parents, check. Get yelled at by his teacher, check. Find ways to make some money, check. Spend the money on meaningless stuff, check. Roxas, check. Repeat.
"You're being awfully optimistic", Olette drawled, sarcasm heavy in her melodic voice and tiny cuts criss-crossing down her too-thin wrists. She didn't say anything about it, so Hayner pretended not to notice. He shrugged.
"It's the truth though", he insisted, warm brown eyes locked on the ground oh-so-far down.
He loved the thrill of dangling his legs off the edge when he was sitting at the very top of the big clock tower in town, with just enough space for him to rest his back against the wall and let the legs hang. High above everything and everyone, away from boring school and scolding parents and stuck-up gang members and the air of this town - stifling, toxic, forcing itself down his dry throat and making him choke on the very rotten essence of the place he was born in.
Olette pulled her jacket tighter around her lithe frame, shuddering as the wind hit her bird-boned face, small puffs of cold air leaving pale lips.
Roxas (the only interesting piece in the endless puzzle that was Hayner's life) stood next to him, watching the horizon far, far away (and as the last trembling sun rays hit his cerulean eyes in a certain angle, they looked almost impossibly bright. Like, inhumanly bright.) He said nothing.
"At least Christmas is coming up", Pence reminded them hopefully from next to Olette. "And New Year's, too."
Hayner snorted, wondering how a city so full of vibrancy and people hurriedly walking up the sidewalk and down the sidewalk, cell phones pressed almost desperately against their red-tinted ears as they chatted away could feel so lifeless.
And then Roxas threw a mistletoe at him, (where the hell had he kept it in the first place?) his eyes large and observing and not giving anything away.
"For Christmas Eve. I hear Lucille's been dying to kiss you."
Hayner muttered something barely audible, remembering the numerous lips he'd kissed that belonged to pretty girls with polite tongues that carefully writhed against him. The pictures in his head soon changed, though, taking him back to his messy first kiss with rapid speed.
He had no answer to why his heart suddenly skipped a beat or why Roxas' gaze suddenly turned smug, as if to say I know what you're thinking of.
&&&
Fifteen and he didn't know why the walls around him were spinning away.
It was at some college-student's party, Hayner remembered, and perhaps he had been a little too careless with how many cans of beer was being passed to him (just as Olette had reminded him throughout the night, rolling her eyes when he claimed it was fine, just one more, really, he felt fine).
He had managed to get Roxas to tag along despite the other one's protests, but as expected he wasn't being very happy about it; Hayner easily spotted the unmoving mop of spikes that stubbornly stood in that gravity-defying way even without hair gel in a corner.
During the entire evening, Roxas had been sitting on the couch, not really talking to anybody, not really doing anything. Hayner huffed. He had really tried to make his friend feel comfortable despite the fact that he didn't know that many people here (they were all older than them, of course, but-), but he didn't really seem that interested in making new aquintances anyway.
Hayner, on the other hand, had been mingling around the whole night. Maybe it was just the way he was (had become).
He heard Olette's voice over the trendy remix, shouting something that sounded like "We're leaving, Hay!" before motioning to herself and Pence. Hayner frowned.
"But why?"
"It's getting late and we feel kind of tired, anyway. Roxas said he'd stay, though", she said, pressing close, directly into his ear, "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
Hayner's eyes widened. Roxas actually wanted to stay? He'd looked a hundred percent bored everytime the other had checked. Immediately, Hayner's gaze shifted to the corner where the sandy-haired teen had spent most of his time, only to realize that he was nowhere to be found. Quickly, he let his eyes travel along the dancefloor but without a trace of his blonde friend.
Where the hell had he gone?
He started making his way through the crowd, pushing drunk teenagers out of his way. Eventually, he managed to get to the back door and push it open. If nothing else, he'd at least be able to get some fresh air.
Hayner was totally unprepared for what he saw.
He recognized the back of his best friend instantly, the taut back and those skinny arms and that dark-blonde hair. What he didn't quite get, though, was the other body (that actually seemed kind of familiar, too) currently crushed against his friend, kissing Roxas, the stranger's strong arms resting on the other's shoulders.
Suddenly, Setzer broke the kiss only to meet Hayner's absolutely shocked gaze.
With something heavy dropping to his gut, he turned on his heel and ran back into the house instantly - the blood thundering in his ears louder than the music even.
Of all the people, Setzer? And-
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around rather violently.
Hayner met Seifer's gaze that hardened as it settled on him.
"What the fuck, chicken-wuss? What're you doing here? And why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
Something shifted inside of Hayner, and despite having a smart-ass retort to that - he had to have one ("what are you doing here? I'm still only a year younger than you, remember, drop-out?") he felt his knees weaken.
"Seifer", he breathed, and then his arm moved on its own accord, grabbing the older boy by the front of his shirt and pulling him flush against his own rigid body, smashing lips and teeth and tongues together.
He expected to be pushed away, or knocked out - or both - but the alternatives seemed to fade into nothing as Seifer swiftly walked the remaining two steps he needed to back Hayner up against the wall in the hallway, a demanding tongue pressing against the roof of the brown-eyed boy's mouth, their heavy breathing and bent bodies hidden by leather jackets and coats.
It all got blurry from there. The only thing he remembered for sure was the strong aftertaste of tequila in the back of his mouth, and Seifer's warm body that - if he closed his eyes - easily could be mistaken for another (not that he had one in mind or anything).
So when he woke up, next to Seifer's naked (and thank God, still sleeping) form, he mentally took note of the fact that the thug didn't look very intimidating at all without his hat on. Too ashamed to even begin to recollect how he got there, Hayner fumbled to find his clothes and then quietly snuck out, feeling nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
&&&
Okay, so maybe he had been avoiding his so-called best friend for the past few days.
And he had certainly been avoiding Seifer for the past few days. But did that make him such a bad person, really? Olette looked at him like he had just confessed to raping and/or killing some innocent little toddlers or something.
"Seifer? Hayner, of all the people.. I just can't believe you'd-"
"Ssch! I told you because I thought I could trust you, 'Lette! Don't give me that moral shit, it's not as if I don't get enough of that already."
"All right, sorry. I just don't know what to say. Roxas' been asking for you, you know. You could at least talk to him."
Hayner frowned.
"I will. It's just.. right now, I wouldn't know what to say. How to explain my behavior.. you know?"
Olette just watched him with doubtful, emerald eyes, saying nothing but conveying her thoughts nonetheless.
Days passed, and Hayner stayed in, mostly. He had several missed calls on his cell phone, most of them from Seifer, two of them from Roxas. He exhaled tiredly and watched as the smoke danced in front of him, a sharp contrast to the pitch-black sky when it boosted up and away from him.
For once, he had found himself walking mindlessly, his feet leading him to the top of the clock tower which still held so many precious, and downright laughable memories.
Summer vacation was over soon. In just two days he'd find himself in his usual seat in the back, where all the other 'noisy kids' were at, reading some lame book or writing about some dead poet or something.
His head hurt at the mere thought. It only increased when he realized that Roxas was his seat-buddy, and he feared that things might have gotten so weird between them that maybe he wouldn't want to sit next to Hayner anymore.
Suddenly, foot steps could be heard. Panic swelled for a moment in Hayner's chest but then a familiar voice spoke up.
"Mind if I sit?"
Hayner was sure that something inside of him shattered at that low monotone. He was too stunned to answer, so Roxas merely shrugged and sat down, obviously taking his silence as a yes, or not caring about what the other boy had to say in the first place.
Minutes went by, each and every one painful in its silence. Hayner searched for the right words but only found his tongue twisting as soon as he prepared himself to explain. Roxas beat him to it.
"So. You've been avoiding me, huh."
It wasn't a question. Hayner answered it anyway.
"I guess. Look, Rox, I'm really sorry.."
"I know."
"You do?" Hayner asked, a little sheepish.
"Mh-mm. Just needed you to say it. You don't have to go all weird on me because of one night, you know. Besides, I guess I should apologize too. I'm sure you were surprised when-"
The other interrupted him, not really liking the images filling his head at that particular memory.
"I was. But.. it was my fault. I didn't talk to you, like I should have. Just.. I'm.."
"It's okay", Roxas cut him off. And when he leaned in to capture Hayner's slightly agape mouth with his own sure lips, nothing really felt strange at all, even though it should have. Something inside of Hayner's stomach did a loop that spread warmth to his very finger-tips, and he tugged the other boy closer by the oversized sleeves of his shirt, thinking that Roxas' kissing skills had improved since seventh grade.
"Tomorrow's the last day of summer vacation", Hayner mumbled, pausing, feeling the whisper of Roxas' skin against his cheek.
"I know", Roxas replied, seemingly unaffected.
"What.. what is this?" Hayner asked. "What are we?"
"We are whatever we want to be."
"Rox, you know what I mean.."
He exhaled.
"I don't know, Hayner", the other whispered, "But it doesn't feel weird."
"I know."
Another exchange of soft lips under the gradually darkening sky.
"If you wake up tomorrow and still think nothing's weird, come see me, all right?" Roxas suggested, a little out of breath.
Hayner wanted to say of course he'd still feel that way - and even if he didn't, he'd still come see Roxas, because, you know, ever since first grade all he'd ever want to do was this; this intimacy, this fondness, the touching and feeling and breathing and possessing and exploring.
He didn't say anything, instead leaning in once more as his fingers on the other's leg twitched, surging with some kind of irrational longing for the other boy despite his sitting right there - so near, so accesable.
When Hayner did wake up the next morning, he felt strange. Almost tired, despite his long hours of sleep. But he hurried to the Usual Spot nonetheless, anticipation managing to fight off the numbness inside.
He needed to see Roxas. Needed to tell him what he'd always known.
&&&
"What do you mean, 'who'?" he asked, pure disbelief written across his features.
"I mean, who is this Roxas you're speaking of", Olette repeated, brow arched. "Is he a new friend of yours or something?"
"What? Cut it out, you guys, it's not funny-"
"Funny name, Roxas", Pence continued. "Sounds foreign. Is he new in town?"
"Cut the crap, will you? I'm really not in the mood for this, I really need to fucking see him-"
"Hayner, there's no need to be mad. I just can't remember ever meeting a Roxas. Are you sure you've introduced him to us?"
"What? Pence, are you for real? You-"
"Hayner, you don't look so good. Maybe you should go get some sleep, and then-"
He didn't need to hear another word. Who the hell did they think they were, anyway? He dashed out of their usual hangout, determined to find the dirty-blonde teen by himself. He just didn't get what was up with his friends. Sure, they couldn't have known that today was just not a good time to be joking around, but still.
As he finally got to the other's house, the surprise that hit him was next to indescribeable. The house. Well, it. It wasn't there.
The entire building had just.. vanished, disappeared as if it had never existd in the first place. Hayner stood there, actually gaping. What. the. hell.
Suddenly, a pain so sharp it overwhelmed all of his senses brought him to his knees. Memories flashed in front of his eyes, all of them of Roxas. His smile, his battle stance, his voice, his smell, his touch-
Hayner groaned like a wounded animal; this anguish was so intense he could taste it on his tongue, he felt like he was being torn. Roxas' name echoed in his head before it was drowned out completely and Hayner desperately tried to grasp something to hold on to, something concrete that he knew was true, some kind of memory that wouldn't merely flash by and escape-
He suddenly felt very cold - cold to his core. And then he blacked out.
The darkness was oddly comforting, at least more so than his reality that just seemed so off - which was about what he had the time to think, before he was lost in oblivion.
&&&
The boy standing before him could have been ripped directly out of some kind of video game or something. His outfit was flashy and a bit too small, red and white with strange chains encircling his body. The shoes were bright yellow and enormous, his chocolate-colored hair looked as if it had been electrified. He looked.. well, he looked ridiculous, really.
But he was carrying a sadness so heavy it echoed inside of Hayner too, and he didn't know why.
"You okay?" Olette asked the boy - Sora - her brilliant green eyes compassionate and wise as she followed the stray tear running down the other's face.
It was like he was crying for somebody else's sake, not for his own; like the pain he felt was shared, just like the pain that shot up inside of Hayner; maybe it was simply because there was just something so familiar about this boy even though the blonde teen was sure that he'd never seen him before in his whole life.
"Y-Yeah. Don't know where that came from.. pull it together!" the boy urged himself, embarrassed, rubbing his cheeks as if it would keep him together.
Excuses. You're not really okay, right? You always do that, Hayner thought. You always treat it as nothing.
The thoughts scared him. But there was an odd comfort there, too, laced with his confusion within the most dusty and time-wounded spaces inside of the blonde. He knew this boy, yet he didn't. It was an endless battle raging in his head.
"Hey, Sora", Hayner suddenly said, the question in his mind burning along his throat, desperately trying to get out, "You sure we haven't met before?"
The blue-eyed boy looked thoughtful, tilting his head slightly.
"Positive. Why do you ask?" he eventually said, not really sounding all that convinced. Hayner shook his head, offering a smile. Silly, he thought. So silly of me. It's 'cause haven't slept much lately.
"I dunno."
And then the doors to the train closed, not giving him the opportunity to ponder over what if-s as Sora's sky-blue gaze met his once more, now through the glass. Pence and Olette waved at him, mouthing their goodbye's, but Hayner could only stare at those eyes and wonder why it felt like they'd pierced his soul more on more than once occasion.
He shrugged it off, eventually. It was probably just his imagination.
For now, he was content with praying that Sora found those friends of his that he had told them he was looking for. Hayner himself knew how crazy he would've been if he ever lost any of his best friends.
&&&
"He looks happy", came the taunting voice he had grown so used to; it never ceased to make shudders roll down his spine, though.
"Shut up, Axel", Roxas replied curtly, not even bothering enough to turn around and acknowledge the redhead.
"You hurt my feelings, Rox, you really do", number VIII continued, mock-sadness clouding his voice, "but ah, well. I can deal with it."
"You don't have any feelings", the other ground out through his teeth, "and don't call me by that name."
Roxas ignored whatever witty remark Axel had come up with as he continued watching his once-upon-a-world from his place in the shadows.
Hayner really did look happy, laughing along with Pence and Olette, sea-salt ice cream in hand, sky-blue goo running down long fingers. Roxas was glad that he seemed fine. Really.
Really.
"Axel", he repeated, tone harsh as he turned, managing to effectively silence the rambling Nobody. "Shut the hell up!"
"Aw, you're such a bore. You're nothing like the Roxas I knew", Axel drawled.
The smaller of the two didn't reply. He looked over his shoulder to catch a final glimpse of what his life once revolved around before he was forced to return to a place that tasted like ashes in the back of his mouth; The World That Never Was.
"I'm nothing like the Roxas I knew, either", he mumbled, quiet and blank-eyed.
And he crossed the line between belonging and re-adapting with only a moment of hesitation, the sullen darkness curling around his legs unusally inviting.
&&&
Hayner was cleaning his room, after being threatened by his mum with the confiscation of his cell phone. As he moved a pile of clothes from on top of a cardboard box, something fell out of his military-green cargo pants. It was a mistletoe, tiny and rotting.
The boy frowned, not remembering where he got it or even why he'd ever keep such a thing around. He brought it into his palm, and was just about to chuck it at the trash can, when something made him re-consider.
Outside his window, flower buds were bursting and birds were huddling together in the high tree crowns. Spring-times always made him feel restless. And even though it should have felt weird, hanging a silly mistletoe over his narrow bed just when warmer seasons were arriving without wasting a single thought on Christmas and frosty ice that seemed everlasting, it didn't. At all.
A/N; re-discovered this today. i think i wrote it last winter or something, and apparently it has stayed on my computer ever since. i think i uploaded it on , too, but i didn't really like it so it was deleated. but i rewrote some things just now, since i've always had a soft spot for the twilight town cast, and so i thought i'd upload it once more. thanks for reading, and please enjoy!
