A/N: Remember how I said that I wouldn't work on this if it wasn't that popular? Yeah, that's what happened this time around except I kind of stepped back from internet entirely, not writing or doing anything because the muse was just not there.

But now it is and I have finished yet another chapter. I don't like saying this, but if I can get at least 5 reviews I will try my damnest to get another chapter out sooner than this one. Honestly, I would be happy with just one review though since I don't think this is nearly as good as it should be.

Okay, for warning because I know a few nit-pickers will point this out if I don't explain this now. Cecil is a special case when it comes to his vocabulary. Normal six year olds will not speak this fluently. However, he is exemplary in his vernacular as the testing in the first chapter prove him to be. That being said, he will seem a little older for his age when he talks at six.

It's going to start out weird because they will be age-skipped-broadcasts kind of. The ending will be the beginning of the real story.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Night Vale.

Project Night Vale

Chapter 1

Hello… people. Who are you? Humans? Monsters? There is no name for those I have yet to see. I don't know who you are, or happen to be, but I know who I am for certain. I know what I am. I am alone. I also know a lot of facts, as the scientists like to say. My mum is gone and she isn't coming back.

…

The scientist woman wants me to give my name and age. She's making all of these faces and none of them pleasant. I might as well do it. She won't let me have my meal or leave the room until I do.

My name is Cecil and I am six years old. It's funny I think – this number six I mean. My mum told me my name meant blind and sixth. I'm six now. I'm six and I guess I'm blind. I can't see her. Is that what blind means? I don't know. I didn't go to Education. Mummy couldn't pay for it and now I guess she never will… won't she?

I'm sad. I miss mummy. I miss her hugs and smiles. I didn't hug her when she left even though she always did so for me. I don't know why I didn't. It felt weird. It was scary and it felt wrong and final and I didn't understand how to take it and I wish…

The scientist woman is telling me to calm down and continue after that point. She didn't look like she liked me mentioning my mother. Is it bad? Everyone makes it that way. They say I'm supposed to forget her. How do you do that? Forget your mum? It seems rather impossible, but I guess not everyone is like me.

The scientist wants me to do this. To record me. I'm too little for the big machines so I'm using a tape recorder. It's neat. I like it. But it's lonely. I'm alone. I don't want to be alone. I want friends. I want mum. I want people. Not the scientists. They are mean. They are cold. They don't care. And I don't think any of them like me at all.

Nobody does now that I think of it. That's why I'm alone. I heard this from a boy named Kevin. He's taking medicine to keep him happy. But, he didn't take it before he went to eat and he found me. He looked really sad. I wanted to help him. I wanted to make him feel better. I wonder if he remembered his mummy. And if so, if he missed her? Does he have one?

Kevin looks like me. Scientists confuse us a lot. He has orange eyes though. He also has scars on his face. When I asked him he told me that I have more than him because I'm not wanted. I'm not wanted and that's why mum left me and abandoned me. He said I was alone and no one will ever love me. I will forever be that lonely kid. That's what he told me but the scientist put him on happy medicine and he was back to normal.

Is it normal?

He… He didn't remember telling me that. Any of it I think. He just smiled at me and shook my hand, dazedly walking away with a wide grin on his face and laughter following him.

He scares me.

The woman is tapping her watch. I think that means I should stop.

I'm Cecil Palmer. I'm six years old. I'm blind and sixth but not really. I think I just don't understand. I want to. Maybe I can understand why mummy left me. Why I am alone now.

I…I miss hugs.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

My name is Cecil Palmer and I am nine years old. While I'm not sixth anymore, I still am blind it seems. I have been taking Education in the Laboratories along with tests and it seems I'm smart. I get things quicker. I can make bigger words and produce a greater vernacular and grammar than most children my age. I'm not happy with this development.

Being smarter makes people not like me more. No one likes a smart alec.

I asked the scientist when I can use the machine they said when I'm older. I've been here for three years. I've been without mum for three years. I still miss her. I want her to hold me. I want a lot of things.

An old woman named Josie talked to me today. She says she sees angels. What are angels? Mum always talked about this man called God but scientist say he isn't real therefore angels are not real. They don't like us talking about them in public but Josie and I are good at being sneaky.

She says an angel watches me and keeps me safe. I asked who and she just stared over my shoulder. She says it is a black angel that watches over me and repeated it while walking away. I'm confused. Why an angel. What are angels? I want my mum to watch me. Not an angel I can't see and don't know of.

My birthday was last week and the scientists gave me a small cake and left the room. No candle. No happy birthday song. No presents.

It was lonely.

I miss people. I miss mummy. I will always miss her I think. Most of all, I miss love I suppose but I don't know what that is really. I've seen patients hold hands and other things but I've seen friends say it. What is love? Is it a thing? Is it a feeling?

I'm confused. I have always been. Kevin leaves me alone. He seems to like to talk amongst himself with people called Vanessa. I can't see her but Kevin sees her.

I want a friend. Even an imaginary one is better than being along in a room where all you have is your voice.

Bed time is coming soon. Good night Night Vale. Good Night.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

If at first you don't succeed, look around and find out who is trying to sabotage you with telepathic interference. It is someone you know.

Hello, my name is Cecil Palmer and I am now thirteen years old. Scientists told me to begin practicing for my radio thing. I'm worried. How do I do this? Do I speak? Should I be like Leonard on the radio? I don't want to disappoint the scientists. Then I get more drugs and they make me feel weird and see even weirder things.

I don't know what is real anymore. Sometimes when I leave my room I see a desert community but for the most part it is the Laboratory corridors. Patients start to look like happy citizens even though I know they are not happy. The cafeteria looks like a diner. It's a terrible feeling and I hate it. I don't want to change.

I need to stop talking about this before they give me another shot.

(sigh)

When I'm eighteen I will be able to use the recording studio for my broadcasts. That's pretty cool. Pretty neat! Neat… no not neat… ah, where was I?

Oh yes, Night Vale! I'm sure many of you are ever so curious about our prospering little desert community! I know I am for I am their voice and update you on their goings on.

An interesting thing has been happening, listeners! I have been getting interns. It seems Station management… er… scientists. The scientists, not station management. Where did that come from? Anyhow, I have been getting new interns. I mean it plural since they tend not to last long oddly enough.

I've had three interns so far… no… kids my age. Not interns. Why am I confusing the two? Clearly they are not the same. Interns want to be here, that's why they are interning here. These kids don't want to be here. WE get along splendidly, we do, but it seems I have a reputation with interns I'm not aware of. How abstruse dear listeners. Abstruse indeed!

Let's see... there was a boy named Chad. He was the first. He didn't last long though I had sent him to get some information on the oddities in the sports store of our… (cough cough) Um… excuse me. Not the sports store, I meant the gym in the Laboratories. I sent him and he never returned! Perhaps he got lost? No one mentions him or answers my questions so in that case I'm going to assume that dear Chad has died. Or is playing a good game of tennis, but likely the first.

Jerry soon followed afterward… It's rather uncannily odd. Reporting on the whereabouts of the community is an easy task for new interns, but maybe he just stopped for a snack? Odd indeed.

As of now, I have Stacey! Lovely dear Stacey. She's a wonder, listeners! I would have her introduce herself to all of your eager ears, but as of this moment she's going to get the scoop on some new aspect in our community! Seeing as I am a newly administered radio host in this promising community, I have yet to be informed of this new aspect called "Street Cleaning Day".

(cough cough)

Wait. This is weird. I think I'm unaware of my alternations from reality to this… other land. Night Vale, it seems I'm becoming for accustomed to that place than here… in this room…

Before I revert back, "Street Cleaning Day" is… I'm honestly not sure. That was one of the most honest parts before. I did send Stacy, the little girl who has recently been stationed in my room, to ask the scientists… but she hasn't returned yet. Why is that I wonder? I've been hearing these awful machines and I swear to whoever is out there that there was a scream and piercing shriek just now…!

I… I don't think I like this "Street Cleaning Day", listeners. Not at all. If anybody listens to this recording after I put it down, know to stay in your quarters… hmm… homes. I meant homes. Please remain in your homes until the loud clashing, buzzing, and screeching as subsided into pleasant silence. This is not only advice from myself, but also a request from the City Council.

Goodnight listeners, Goodnight.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Ask your doctor a question. Receive an answer. Shiver. Think about the answer. Shiver. Think about the answer. Think about it. Shiver.

Welcome to Night Vale!

Hello, listeners! You will be pleased to hear that a new sector will be added to the Laboratories today! It seems we will finally be getting a library! I'm sure most of you probably miss those black, block letters scrolling across your vision so elegantly and pristine. Perhaps a little too much? Perhaps not enough?

As of this recording, I am sixteen years of age. I am still Cecil Palmer. Now that that is out of the way, let's move on to some news.

To start things off, I have been asked to make some corrections to my past recordings. Particularly the differing information I have been delivering. Station Management has been growling behind their darkened doors for the last week over this distressing mistakes and I am here to put them to rest and settle them once and for all.

First, there is the fact of our home and community. This is, in fact, Night Vale. A friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. I apologize dearly for ever believing our desert could ever be a Laboratory! How absurd and rather blindly misinterpreted might I add. No, please don't despair over your precious reality, dear listener. We are in Night Vale as we will always be in Night Vale.

Secondly, the existence of scientists. There are a few scientists in Night Vale, but they are not used for harm! That is one mistake I have been rendering constantly. Some of those individuals I have claimed to be such beings have actually been citizens of Night Vale! Outstanding, hard-working citizens that I have naively attached slander towards. I cannot distress how much this saddens me, loyal citizens! For those of you who have been succumbed to such harassment, I apologize dearly.

Oh! We have a new resident in Night Vale today, listeners! He wouldn't offer his name when I asked, but he refers himself as the "Indian Tracker". His appearance could have fooled me. He looks like he is of Slavic origin and yet he wears the absurdly cartoonish Indian headdress. I'm not sure if he means to proclaim the racial mistakes he has been showing.

It seems I'm still not going to be touching that radio station yet. I still have quite a bit to go, but Station Management has informed me that it will occur in some event of my lifetime. I can't wait to speak to all of you.

I got a new intern today. She is just a dear. Her name is Dana and she's probably the first intern I have had that actually likes to be here! Now I don't know about you, but why would you apply to intern somewhere if you're not going to enjoy it? It seems rather redundant, right?

But as they always say: To each their own and if not of their own then of the one who controls them.

Anyways, Dana has been here for only a few hours today but she will be returning tomorrow and the day after and it's nice having someone here. A lot of my past interns have gone… missing.

But that's another topic altogether that I would like to refrain from relaying too long.

Hm… it seems I have to cut off here. Perhaps I'll continue later on?

Who knows?

Good night Night Vale, Good night.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are? What are you? Tell us. We have your family. You aren't safe from us little star.

Welcome to Night Vale.

I'm happy to say that this is my official first broadcast using the installed recording studio! Do you hear my voice, listeners? I can't wait to hear your own. This is the start of a new age and I will record every step of the way. Of you. Of your family. Of Night Vale.

Oh, and me? I will be your guide and friend, Cecil Gershwin Palmer. As of now, I am 18 years old.

Sadly, it seems I cannot record long for your ears. I have other things to do! So many events to report on, too many to lose. I'm sure you understand. I'm a radio host and I have to do what I do best to not disappoint you.

On other news, it seems our rivals, Desert Bluff, are becoming rather obnoxious. This isn't coming from me personally. Old Woman Josie told me this the other day when she and I had a lovely afternoon brunch. Her so-called angelic friends that are definitely not the biblical kind, have whispered to her about their mischief and they have never lied to us before might I add.

It isn't so much what they haven't been doing as much of what they have been doing to alter what they haven't. It is said that it is a very hot, sunny place where grins and disgusting optimism resides heavily with pretense. The City Council has forbade anybody to go to Desert Bluffs. If you have family who live in the area, say your farewells accordingly for they are not yours to call family anymore.

Shame on you Desert Bluffs, shame on you.

That is all I have to report today. Actually, it's all I have time to perform. It seems I have been called for Reeducation. I shall see you tomorrow, pleasant listeners.

Goodnight, Night Vale. Good night.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

-Present time-

When he wakes up, Cecil peers up to smile at the male who is certainly not a laboratory scientist. The man behind the mask merely blinks at the young adult before offering a small nod. A few little movements of fiddling with technology and chemicals resounded next to him as he redialed numbers and such.

But Cecil was used to this. Each morning waking up to some level of change before being subjected to sameness. It was all so normal. Maybe a little too normal.

A little change would be nice. Not too much or adapting would be unbearable, but enough to keep things interesting. Perhaps he could talk to Josie about this. She always did offer the best sort of imagination in times like these.

The man tapped his shoulder and Cecil glanced up. The mask of the sci- doctor wasn't pulled down, but he could still hear him clearly.

"You are to go eat breakfast in half an hour. I would advise you to eat a healthy breakfast. The… station management has not been pleased with your lack of appetite towards their oppressions." Cecil cringes at this mentally. He knew better than to get on the bad side of Station Management. He's had 16 years to perfect his image in their eyes and to reduce their growls to low grumbles of occasional distaste.

To hear that they have been not impressed by his behavior is a sign that he needed to do all he could to rapt the good graces of his employers. If Station Management maintains their displeasure too long, Cecil will surely face the consequences and the last thing he wants is for the Secret Police to come and take him to get Re-Educated. Those are the worst and Cecil had to hold back a shudder from the last time he was subjected to their methods.

He hated being Re-Educated. Everyone with a mind and some level of pain sensors in their bodies abhorred the process. However, it is mandatory for those who don't comply and Cecil was surely not the most innocent of teens in his stages of hormonal pubescent progression.

"Is it understood, CP- Cecil Palmer?" Cecil caught the correction but made no remark on it. He was used to being addressed both ways and completely understood by this point that the numeric code for his name is only for the medical doctors to give him his daily dosage of medicine. It was perfectly normal and he had nothing to fear. Of course not.

'No, you have everything to fear.' A little voice spoke in the back of his mind that he promptly ignored. 'They are not who they seem to be! Don't be fooled!'

Fooled? Please. Cecil knew Night Vale like the back of his hand and even more so. There was nothing this pleasant desert community could fool him about! He knew each and every citizen as well as the stores and convenience areas posted around. There was no way that Cecil could be deceived by this wonderful environment. Whatever that stray thought had murmured clearly was a sign that he should eat like the good doctor mentioned.

Although Cecil doubted that eating would aid in anything. The voices came and went as they pleased and no amount of health would restrict that.

Still, he hated those voices. He hated the fact that a part of him wanted to reach out and agree with their assertions. He hated the growing feeling of loneliness and the aspect of being lied to. And all of this stemmed from those cursed voices in the back of his head that he never even wanted or asked for. Vicious little remi- disturbances that always seem to ruin his mood in the most inappropriate of times.

For Cecil was happy. He was! He had the best job one of his stature could ask for and even managed to make a few good friends with Old Woman Josie and Dana. He had no reason to not be happy. Everything was fine and as it should be.

'As it should be,' echoed his thoughts sadly. Again, he ignored them.

"Mr. Palmer?" Cecil snapped his head up at the calling of his name. By this point the man was putting away his tools – or was he thrusting an IV line into a closet? Cecil could never tell – into his bag and was standing to leave. "Is everything alright? Something I should know about?"

'If I were to tell him I'm hearing voices it could end quite badly. It may even take away my job for a while which would make Station Management even more angry,' Cecil assessed quietly so he shook his head with a smile, sitting up and stretching.

The doctor eyed him for a while before nodding and dismissing himself. Cecil waited until the door was closed before he got up. Walking towards the bathroom, he took care of his usual business and walked out twenty minutes later in a brand new outfit, refreshed, and ready to start the day.

When he looked himself in the mirror, he grinned at his good taste in clothing. Dress slacks, a purple button up (As always!), and a splendid grey vest. It was lovely. His hear was of course brushed to perfection as he always managed to get it. Purple eyes shown back at him vibrantly and he couldn't help but smile wider.

He briefly rotated his body to check and make sure all was at its best. This, of course, eventually led to his gaze falling on his pale arms.

He glanced at his arms, uncovered and bare. Well, not exactly. When he was 15 he started getting these markings that swiveled around his arms and left patterns. He contacted the doctor immediately, of course, but the man merely said that they were tattoos and nothing to worry about. That maybe in a drunken haze, Cecil had decided tattoos were the best at the time.

Cecil agreed with him, disregarding the fact that he didn't drink.

But they were a cool little addition, which even was in Cecil's favorite shade of purple. He didn't see any reason to complain. He was a little confused why they resembled tentacles of some sort, but he didn't feel the need to remove them. He liked them for they were a neat break up of all his pastels.

Placing his glasses along the bridge of his nose, Cecil flicked off the lights and stuck his wallet in his pockets before leaving.

It was always odd when he left his home. Sometimes when he was truly tired and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, he would see the outside as corridors of a laboratory. Rows upon rows of numbered doors would line his vision, touchpad locks barring him from visiting the others in this frightening experience. The floor would be like metal grates and everything around him would seem too small for comfort.

Those were nightmarish moments that he would love to go on without. It was so weird. Cecil always knew that he was in his desert community though. He didn't need anybody to correct him of that. He was a citizen of Night Vale, no some test subject for an unknown organization. Even he isn't that oblivious.

Nonetheless, each morning they gave him a fright. Each morning they delivered themselves without fail as if trying to assert him of something.

'Like the voices,' He thought as he opened the door and pulled it open.

This time was no different than those other times, even taking a little longer before the Laboratory feel faded out to his warm community. The metal around him turned to the desert environment, metal grates turning to sand and constricting ceilings dissolving to a free sky. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and people were already getting out of there pretense of sleep to meander through society.

Every so often Cecil thought he saw some of his fellow citizens looking gaunter, possibly resembling death and illness, but then he would blink and they would be greeting him and waving him by like every other morning. They were no longer the epitome of the reaper and his ailments. They were happy citizens that were perfectly healthy. No need to worry.

After the twentieth time of this happening, Cecil resorted to keeping his eyes on the sidewalks, sighing to himself at the absurdity of this. Something must be wrong with him. Perhaps Cecil should have brought the voices up if the effects are getting this bad.

'No, please don't,' The voice pleaded and it sounded so child-like, so much like him. 'You will be erased again. The medicine will get rid of you.'

Get rid of him? That didn't even make sense! The medicine was helping him. These voices were getting out of control. If anything this voice is making him want to pursue it even more.

Sighing, he made his way to the diner and pushed the door open. A fresh little ding marked his entrance as he made his way over to the same booth as every other morning. Across from him sat Josie, murmuring as always. She seemed focused on a certain little spot across from her in the booth.

Cecil was about to sit down when she held out her hand. "Stop. Erika is sitting there."

He blinked slowly and then smiled. "Of course. I apologize Erika." Josie smiled at him sincerely as he scooted over to make way for the obviously non-holy being that could never be an angel.

One of the waitresses came over and asked for what they wanted to start off with. They each replied with their usual. Cecil with a nice cup of coffee – black and two sugars – and Josie with peppermint green tea. The waitress nodded and walked off, avoiding the hooded figure that sat perched on one of the bar stools.

"So, how are you doing on this lovely morning, Josie?" Cecil smiled and thanked the waitress as she delivered their beverages. Lifting the mug, he sipped it while watching the elderly woman do the same.

"I am splendid today, dear. Thank you for asking," she smiled and then motioned Cecil closer. He obliged willingly for normally when she did this it meant she had some information that he could relay over the radio later. Any information was always welcome after all.

When he was close enough, he noticed the spark of excitement in her eyes. "Did you hear about the new young scientist that came to Night Vale? I hear he's quite the looker!"

Cecil chuckled and rolled his eyes. "That's what you say about every single good looking man, Josie."

She shook her head feverently. "No, no. I mean it! Maybe someone good enough for you! Here. I have a picture of him."

"Josie!" Cecil exclaimed with a surprised giggle as she brought out her phone and showed him a picture of the supposed newcomer. Shaking his head, Cecil grasped the small cellular device and adjusted his glasses to see the image clearer.

Josie wasn't kidding in the slightest when she mentioned how incredibly good looking he was!

And wasn't he a handsome caramel delight! Dark skin, a nice build, and that gorgeous hair he modeled so splendidly! Oh my, it was practically love at first site to Cecil. He had a few touches of gray around the temples, but that despaired nothing. Cecil was already in love with the man and he had never even met him!

"What is his name?" Cecil whispered and he blushed furiously as Josie exchanged a knowing look. She had been around for most of Cecil's crushes and knew when he was in a new one. That may have been her intentions for all he knew. She always did say that he needed to settle down and start a family.

Josie took the phone back gently and smirked deviously. Cecil never knew an elderly woman could look so mischievous before then but Josie proved him wrong. "His name is Carlos. He is a nice man. I'm sure you will absolutely adore him…" she paused and smiled. "If you haven't already that is. Did you want me to send you the picture?"

"Yes!" Cecil quickly replied before hiding his flushed face behind his hands. "I-I mean, if you could? That would be lovely. For the broadcast later. Only for the broadcast. You know how the listeners love descriptions of hand- newcomers."

"Of course it's for the broadcast, dear." Josie patted his hand and grabbed her cup of tea. "I'll send it to you in a while. I have to attend something with Erika. He says farewell."

"Bye Erika," Cecil mumbled behind his hands, taking deep breaths to cool his face.

Okay, Cecil, you have got to calm down! Yes, he is good looking. Okay, maybe hot hot hot more like. But you have a job to do. Now is not the time to start obsessing over your latest crush! You haven't even met him at all so how can you know you will like him?

"Hey are you okay?" Someone's hand landed on Cecil's shoulder and the broadcaster nodded. Great, he was making a scene. Better thank whomever decided to check on him. Slowly removing his hands, he turned around to thank whomever it was and froze in the middle of smiling.

Oh no.

Cecil couldn't do this. Oh God he just got over obsessing him for that moment! And now that man – Carlos – was standing in front of him, his hand slowly retracting. He looked surprised and a little worried. Was he worried over Cecil? Oh goodness that is absolutely embarrassing!

And yet Cecil couldn't even thank him and tell him everything was fine, too busy observing the differences between the image he saw not a minute ago and the real life thing.

The picture didn't do Carlos justice. He was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. The adorable little quirk of the brow when he is confused and those warm brown eyes. Oh goodness. And Cecil couldn't even make him look away from those luscious locks. It was captivating. Everything about Carlos was enthralling.

It's fine though.

Cecil can do this.

He can definitely do this.

Just play it cool.

Carlos got closer as if to check his temperature and Cecil's face flushed up immediately at the closeness. "Are you alright? You look a little red."

Cecil couldn't do this.

Why did he think he could?

Cecil quickly stood from his booth and took a step back, forgetting about his coffee entirely. He offered a smile that he hoped wasn't shaky or nervous. That would be mortifying! "Y-Yeah. I'm fine! Totally fine. I'm just… busy. Very busy. You know how time tends to go…"

Turning swiftly, Cecil started quickly walking towards the diner doors, feeling like an idiot the entire way. Here was his recent crush talking to him and he was fleeing! If Josie saw him right now she would be scolding him beyond belief!

The young radio broadcaster's face might as well be stained red for all its flushed glory permitted. He felt a warm prickle of angry tears threaten to spill from his eyes and he fought back fiercely, quickening his pace as he fled the diner.

He heard someone shout his name but he was already out the door.

Once he got back to his little studio, he rushed past Dana and locked the doors behind him. He gently slid down the locked doors and let the tears come.

Idiot! Why couldn't he have acted normal? Why couldn't he have said thank you and asked him about his day or even just about the weather?! Cecil was so angry at himself. Beyond angry at himself.

"Cecil?" A little voice called on the other side of the door once his crying stopped. It was Dana. Good Dana. His longest intern and the one he loved the most out of all of them – although he would never say this out loud! One should never express their favorites aloud.

Wiping his face and calming his breathing, he cleared his throat and replied hoarsely. "Yes?" Even though he didn't sob loudly, only crying silently, it seemed the deep breathing to calm it had left his voice worse for wear.

She paused. He knew Dana enough to know when she did that she was probably fiddling with her intern ID in worry. He smiled fondly as she replied. "Your broadcast starts in five minutes."

Cecil nodded to himself before calling out. "Thank you, Dana."

When he stood, he dusted his pants and fixed his attire before unlocking the door. The Station Management didn't approve of privacy and the last thing Cecil wanted today was to make them angrier than the doctor already told him they were.

He rubbed his eyes some more and thanked whatever was out there that his broadcast was not visible otherwise he was sure his eyes and cheeks would be an embarrassing shade of red.

Sitting in his chair, Cecil scooted up towards the microphone, preparing to pull a few switches to start the broadcast.

'Time to get to work,' He thought to himself, smiling at the feeling of normalcy.

'Time for you to obey whatever your masters demand of you, you mean.' The little voice spoke bitterly and Cecil felt the emotion slip into his tone as he practiced what was given to him on the papers this time.

He immediately pushed the thoughts back.

'I don't care if you make yourself known outside of my broadcast, but do not interrupt me during it.' Cecil thought fiercely.

The little voice paused before speaking softly. 'It's not like any of this is real. Right now you are speaking into a disconnected microphone and you don't even know it.'

Cecil hesitated for the briefest of moments before disregarding the statement entirely. He was certainly not speaking into some disconnected microphone! He would know this, wouldn't he?

For a second he panicked and then he sighed.

Later. He didn't have the time to think about this now.

Tapping the microphone, Cecil took a deep breath and began his broadcast.

A/N: So that is that.

Now, I know some of you may question his reaction to Carlos in this chapter but I swear it is intentional. I wanted him to over-react a little in the presence of Carlos. Normally when he crushes on someone, it is someone he has known for a while. Carlos, he just barely met and not even that much! It's kind of frightening a little if I do say so myself.

Most of Cecil's over-reacting was the fact that he was trying to control his crush feelings and then being frightened by said crush. And then there is the fact that he kind of handled it badly which made him feel incredibly stupid. I've been there more than enough to understand him.

Next chapter will be Carlos's POV and you finally see the world that Cecil is actually living in.

Review, Favorite, Follow, or just Read.

Ciao.