"Is he…dead?"

"No, honey. He's just unconscious."

"Why? What happened?"

"I think he overdosed on drugs. And according to what you told me earlier, with the lifelike hallucinations, he was probably on LSD. That drug is highly dangerous. I need you to understand that. It makes you see things that aren't really there. I've seen people on buildings jump off, thinking they could fly, and end up dying or getting really hurt. It's bad news, Roxas. And this poor young man has been on it. I can tell. Look how skinny he is. Either he has an eating disorder, or he just hasn't eaten in days. I can see his ribs. He's in poor shape. But right now, he needs to sleep. That's all we can do for now. Once he wakes up, I'll have something for him to eat."

"Shouldn't we take him to the hospital?"

"We might do that. Later. Right now, I need to get dinner started. Watch over him for me, will you?"

"Yeah." Roxas propped himself up on his knees, getting a closer look at the red-haired guy he encountered in the alleyway. From this closer perspective, he could see every single detail of his face. He saw how narrow his cheek bones were, the planes of his chin, and the paleness of his lips. He looked like he might as well be dead. He was pale enough, and skinny to look it. To Roxas, the guy looked like a walking skeleton, especially without his shirt on. His ribs were noticeable, the skin around them thin and paler than anything. Above, around his stomach, Roxas saw many dark bruises that looked very painful. There was a huge one right in the middle, and it was purple, almost black. Roxas couldn't help but wince when he saw the bruises along the other teen's body, and he felt pity for him immediately.

Who was he? Why was he laying, unconscious, in an alleyway? What was his name? How old was he? Did he live here, or was he from somewhere else? There were so many unanswered questions that Roxas was dying to know.

Roxas's blue eyes trailed down to where his clothing lay, on the desk. It was a long cloak, black with a zipper going through the middle. The guy wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, but he was wearing thick, black pants underneath with black boots. Roxas couldn't help but stare at his skinniness, wondering if the guy was ever even hungry.

And then he looked at the things below his eyes.

They looked almost like upside-down tears. Black. Roxas leaned closer to get a better look. They were below his eye, and looked permanent. Were they tattoos, or burns? What could they be? And what did they mean?

The guy was a mystery. Here in Twilight Town, it was rare to encounter something so mind-boggling. Normally things just went by without commotion. This time, however, this guy showed up.

"Roxas?" His mother called from the kitchen.

"Yes?"

"How are your arms?"

Roxas glanced down at the scrapes on his arms. They got better, though they burned when he rubbed them or touched them. A layer of skin came off from his wipe out, but he's had worse in the past. Still, it wouldn't hurt putting a band-aid over them.

"Good. Could I put some wrapping over them?"

"Of course. I put the package on the table. It's easy to cut without scissors." Roxas found the package of white wrapping, and heard his mother take out a pot rather noisily.

Roxas opened the package, digging through its remains. He stretched the wrapping out, wrapping it securely around one of his scrapes. He leaned down to bite through the stretchy material, successfully cutting it. He did the same with his other arm, already feeling much better. Even if he touched the table or anything, it didn't burn thanks to the wrapping. He set the package back onto the table, taking his place again next to the redhead, who was still out.

"Who are you?" Roxas whispered, wanting to reach out and lift his eyelids to wake him up. But he knew he wouldn't do that. The guy obviously needed his sleep. Roxas cringed when he glanced down to see all the bruises, and he suddenly felt sick.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I…feel sick."

Moments later, Roxas's mother was cradling his face in her hands, checking his temperature. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No. Not like that." Roxas swallowed. "It's…the bruises. They bother me."

His mother smiled sadly. "Yes. I know. Painful, right? It's a shame a teenager his age had to get bruises like that. But we don't know how he got them. He could be a criminal, or have an abused like at home. We know for sure he was on drugs, LSD for sure, but he could've been on more. If you mix drugs, do two at the same time, it won't have a good effect. He might've been taking more than one drug at the same time, which might've made him pass out." She stood up, wiping her hands on her white skirt. "We'll find out once he wakes up."

As she walked away, Roxas asked, "When do you think he'll wake up?"

"It might take a few days. Don't be expecting him to wake up in an hour, Roxas."

Roxas glanced outside. It was getting dark. He should probably get to bed, but then he looked back at the guy and knew he wouldn't get much sleep tonight.

"But what if he did wake up tonight?"

"He won't. Trust me. His body is in bad shape. It's healing itself right as we speak."

Roxas stared down at the guy. His gaze lingered on his ribs sticking from his skin, as if trying to just break through. He shivered, disturbed from the sight.

"Wait. Why are you making dinner for him if you know he won't wake up tonight?"

"It's smart to be precautious. Also, I think we need to have something to eat. Don't you?"

Roxas knew he was hungry, even though he had ice cream earlier. He knew he should've been—his stomach felt empty. But looking at those bruises, Roxas felt sick to the stomach. Queasy. It probably hurt just to breath for the guy.

"Don't you think about skipping dinner." Roxas's mother read his mind. "I know you feel sick from looking at him, but you need to eat before you get to bed. Tomorrow is your second to last day of summer, and you should probably be making sure you have everything for school."

"I have everything." Roxas protested. "I have a backpack, paper, pencils, and a calculator. I checked it all this morning."

Roxas listened as his mother was silent for awhile. She must've been concentrating on something.

Roxas turned his attention back at the unconscious redhead. He looked so peaceful, despite his body's appearance. His mouth was closed softly, his eyes were closed hiding themselves away from the horror of reality, and he just looked calm and tranquil, totally the opposite of how Roxas saw him earlier. He was frantic, scared, and jittery when Roxas last saw him.

"Angel dust." He murmured dazedly. "Please…"

Roxas remembered the last thing the redhead said to him, before he passed out cold. Angel dust? What was angel dust? Was that a drug?

"Hey, Mom?"

"Hm?"

"What's angel dust?"

She paused. "Why?"

"Because, before he passed out, he said angel dust."

"Angel dust is another name for LSD." She said matter-of-factly. "So that confirms it. He was on LSD."

One question answered, but so many more that needed answers.

Roxas wondered what life the redhead had. Was he abused by his parents, or was he living on the streets, thriving on drugs and whatnot? Or was he just obsessed with drugs, and couldn't stop? Or maybe he was just walking on the street, with a perfect family, and took drugs before, and went crazy.

The possibilities were endless.

"Mom?" Roxas whispered. "Can you tell me when he wakes up?"

"Of course."

"I mean, I want to be here when he wakes up." Roxas said louder. "I want to figure this all out."

"That sounds fine, dear." His mother replied. "Now come and eat. I made some macaroni and cheese."

Roxas took one last look at the redhead, promising himself that he'd return immediately afterwards, and left the room.

The guy was still unconscious, even after the two days had passed.

Roxas woke up on the first day of school and got dressed. He made sure his hair was how it should be, put some shoes on, and ran down the stairs. It never did take him long to get dressed. His mother was in the kitchen, having breakfast already made.

Roxas paused in the living room, seeing the guy still laying there. He looked just as he had that one night he brought him home. Peaceful.

Maybe he was dead after all. Roxas could feel his chest tightening at the thought of having a dead body in the same room he stood in.

"Ready for school?" Roxas's mother asked with a smile. "I can't believe you're already a sophomore in high school."

"Me neither." Roxas hesitated, but began eating his waffles, everything already prepared for him. What could he say? His mother spoiled him so, not that he was going to start complaining. He really couldn't believe he was already a sophomore. Hopefully high school does go by fast, as much as people say.

"Mom? Are you sure he's not dead? He's stayed like that for two days…"

"He's breathing." Roxas's mother informed lightly. "He has a pulse. He's still alive."

"So why is he still…out?"

"His body was so badly damaged. Normally it's not good to let someone sleep after drug overdose, or being drunk because of alcohol poisoning. But, I don't think that counts this time. I think he needed some sleep. A lot if it."

"And he's getting it." Roxas said to himself, finishing up his waffle. It was almost time to go to school. He promised Hayner he'd meet him down the road, since they lived right across from each other. Roxas was oh-so tempted to ride his skateboard to school, since it would be faster and easier, but Hayner didn't ride. So he'll just walk with his best friend anyway, which he didn't mind.

Besides, he was planning on telling his friends about the redheaded guy. He never told them yet. He didn't know why, but he felt like a deep secret lingering in this house.

Roxas thanked his mother and grabbed his backpack. Hopefully nobody would notice the scrapes on his arms—that wouldn't make a good first impression. Then again, when did he care what everyone else thought?

"See you after school, Mom." Roxas said, waving goodbye as he walked into the living room. He paused, looking down at the guy, wondering just when he'd wake up.

"Talk about a long nap." Roxas grumbled, racing through the front door. Hayner was across the road, leaning on a big wooden pole, waiting impatiently for Roxas. He beamed once he saw the blonde, stepping off the pole.

"Took you long enough." Hayner said good-heartedly. "How's it going?"

"Good." Roxas regarded Hayner with a nod. "You?"

"Man, I'm already falling asleep." Hayner complained, hanging his head. "I almost fell asleep on the pole for Pete's sake!"

"Stayed up too late, huh?"

"Tell me about it." The two began their trek to the school, which wasn't far. Maybe a couple blocks. The sun was barely rising from above the horizon, and it was dim yet the sky was getting brighter with a deep orange.

"Just think about it," Hayner said, suddenly roughly patting Roxas's back. "Two more years or this crappy school, then we can leave it in the dust." He smiled broadly, overjoyed from the thought. "Let it eat our dust, huh?"

"Yeah." Roxas hesitated. Should he tell him?

"So I was thinking," Hayner continued, "after school, would you like to head to the Usual Spot and hang out? You know, complain about school and all that good stuff?"

Roxas thought about the passed out guy, sitting in his living room. All alone. Ugh. Why do I care? He's probably some fucked up guy who goes to strip joints. Not my problem. Roxas smiled. "Sure."

Sure. It's easy to say that when you're not looking at the bruises. Just thinking about it makes me want to go back and…

"What's wrong?" Hayner's voice shot through Roxas's mind. Roxas jumped, alert.

"What?"

"You've zoned out there, Rox." Hayner waved a hand in his face. "Everything okay?"

"Well…" Roxas was just about to tell him, but then knew how Hayner would react. He'd demand why Roxas was dumb enough to carry the guy home, let alone stop and give the guy any attention. Telling Hayner would be dense and pointless. He'd only tell Roxas that he needs to get that freak out of his house.

Roxas sighed. "I'm tired, too."

"Ah ha! So I'm not the only one!" Hayner looked smug. "You're not mister perfect anymore, I see. That's good. It's not fun being the only 'rebel'."

They both laughed, nearing school already. There were teens riding on bicycles to the school, with their friends or siblings. Roxas knew Olette's mother dropped her off, and Pence walked since he lived practically right next to the school. Whenever they go to the Usual Spot after school, they usually stopped at Pence's house to get a drink or snack since it was right there. Then after they got their filling, they'd all go to the Usual Spot and hang out.

Roxas sighed in contentment. Everything was perfect.

Still, he felt that queasy feeling building in his gut from nervousness. This was, after all, his first day of school after months of vacation. Almost everyone feels nervous for their first day, right?

"Let's hope we have classes together." Hayner said as they approached the front doors. There were already people hanging outside, bored as hell.

"Yeah." Roxas really did hope they had classes together. It would be terrible if they didn't.

Roxas didn't have a wide range of friends. He wasn't a great talker, and wasn't an outgoing person so it was hard for him to make conversations with people he didn't know. So he centered himself around his three friends, and just those three people. Nobody else. Hayner was the same way, only because he could get mad really angrily and hold a grudge for someone for a long time.

"Olette's probably already here." Hayner opened the door, and Olette ran into them. She yelped, dropping her books on Hayner's foot.

"OUCH! Shit, Olette! What the hell?"

"Sorry!" She quickly reclaimed her books, holding them gently to her chest in an almost protective manner. She looked like a nervous wreck. "Sorry Hayner. Good morning guys."

"Morning." Roxas replied while Hayner answered with an intake of air from the pain.

"Geez! How heavy are those books?"

Olette smiled remorsefully. "I'm really sorry."

Then Hayner surprised both of them.

His features softened, and he held out his arms to take the books from the nervous-wrecked Olette. Roxas's eyes widened, along with Olette. Hayner almost never, ever did favors for anyone. "I'll take them."

Roxas watched him carefully. They were definitely going to talk about that later. But who knew? Maybe Hayner just felt like being nice and felt bad for Olette?

Hayner was unpredictable. Whenever you thought he'd get mad at something, he'd be fine with it. But whenever you thought he'd be fine with it, he'd be furious.

Olette shook off her surprise, and Roxas was surprised to see her blushing slightly. "Oh, uh, thanks Hayner."

Hayner cleared his throat. "So, uh, where's Pence?"

Pence wandered over to them, emerging from the bathroom. "Hey guys. I'm guessing Olette dropped her books on Hayner?"

Hayner grinned. "Yeah." He held the books to his chest like they were feathers, much different than how Olette had to hold them like they were heavy weights.

"They had a good breakfast." Pence said. "You can make waffles now. Can you believe it? All you do is grab a cup of the mixture and put it into a waffle maker. And they taste actually good." He paused. "And you know the best part? They give you syrup."

"Awesome." Roxas said. "I remember last year when all they had was those gross pizza-bacon things."

They all shuddered from the thought.

"Well," Olette said, her hands behind her back, "I got my schedule already. Did you guys get yours?"

"Rox and I just got here." Hayner replied. "We'll go get ours."

"You get them in the office." Pence added.

"We know. We've only been here all our life." Hayner said sarcastically. Pence made a face.

"Yadda yadda."

"Come on, Rox." Hayner and Roxas walked away, going to where the main office was. There was a line stretched to the door, so their backs were pressed into the door from the line.

"So," Roxas said quietly, "what's with you and Olette?"

Hayner looked away quickly. Too quickly to note notice. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. You've been nice to her! You don't argue with her anymore, you don't pick on her perfectness; you're nice."

Hayner sighed. "Is it because I took the books?" Then he broke. "Do you think I made it too obvious?"

"So you do like her?"

"Shhh." Hayner looked around suspiciously. "Yes. I like Olette, alright? Now you know my secret."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Moron, you thought I'd tell anyone? Who am I going to tell?"

"Olette."

They moved up in the line.

"Ask her out."

"No way!"

"Ask her! Come on—I think she likes you."

"Rox, what if she doesn't?" Hayner whispered. "I…I don't know."

Roxas laughed softly and punched Hayner on the shoulder, not hard. "Stop being a wuss. Ask her. She's just a girl."

"She's also our friend, remember?" Hayner replied.

They moved up again.

"I know. But I really think she likes you. She's always batting her eyelashes at you like this." Roxas pretended to be Olette and batted his eyelashes flirtatiously. That cracked Hayner up, which was Roxas's intent.

"Wow, Rox. Fine. I'll ask her. Next week maybe." Hayner sighed. "Whatever. Who doesn't like me?"

"Me." A voice said behind them. Both of the teenage boys turned around to see Seifer walk forward, with his two buddies behind him loyally. Roxas rolled his eyes.

Seifer, to sum it up, was a complete, utter asshole.

"Since you two are both losers," Seifer sneered, walking in front of them, "I have the right to cut."

"Hey!" Roxas protested. "Get in the back of the line."

"Yeah." Hayner added. "We were here first!"

"Looks at my face." Seifer hissed, pointing to his face. "See if I give a shit."

"Fat ass."

"Fucker."

"Dip shit."

"Gaywod."

"Dick sucker."

"Ball sniffer."

"Boys!" The secretary said finally, waving her arms to catch their attention. "Watch your language and calm down."

Roxas glared hatefully, but knew arguing would be futile. Hayner knew the same thing, so they both had no choice but to let Seifer get in front of them.

"Oh well." Roxas grumbled. "It's just one person, right?"

Seifer's two other buddies cut in front of them along with Seifer.

Hayner sighed. "I fucking hate him so much."

"That makes two of us."

"Seifer's got it going on, ya know?" One of Seifer's tag alongs said. Roxas never knew his name. He was a muscular guy. All the guy ever did was say "ya know." After living in this town for all his life, Roxas still had no idea what his name was!

"You probably suck his dick," Hayner hissed, "just so you can walk by his side. Fucking coward."

"Watch it." Seifer said threateningly, turning to leave. The tension stayed in the room, even with Seifer gone.

"I'm here for my schedule." Hayner told the secretary. She smiled and handed him a slip of paper. Hayner stepped aside, checking out his schedule.

"Me, too." Roxas said, just as she handed him his own. Roxas and Hayner immediately began comparing their schedules.

Roxas's heart dropped when he realized they didn't have any classes together whatsoever. Hayner's disappointment was obvious, too.

"Man," Hayner said, "we have nothing together. That blows."

"Maybe we have the same lunches." Roxas said hopefully. They looked at their lunches. Roxas had second lunch while Hayner had first.

"This sucks." Hayner grumbled, crumpling up the paper and throwing it to the ground. Roxas bent down to pick it up, and gave it back to his best friend.

"Keep it." Roxas urged. "You need that."

"Maybe we could change classes." Hayner muttered.

"Maybe." Roxas sighed. Hopefully he had some classes together with Pence or Olette.

"Mom! I'm home." Roxas walked into his house with a heavy heart. That had to have been the worst day he had ever had. In every one of his classes, he was alone. He didn't have classes with any of his friends—not even lunch.

It sucked. Big time.

Roxas walked further into the house to the kitchen, not seeing his mother. "Mom?" He grabbed a cookie from the cookie jar and took a bite. "Mom? Where are you?"

It was then he remembered the guy. And he also remembered that when he walked by him, there was no body.

Roxas took off running into the living room. The sofa was empty. The body was gone. His eyes widened.

Did he die? Was that where his mother was right now—at the funeral home?

He dropped his cookie, which was suddenly forgotten.

And then out of nowhere, someone grabbed his shoulders from behind, and yelled, "BOO!"

"Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead."

~Mark Twain