A/N: WOW a two month hiatus? Boo. He's my second attempt at a chapter.

Now Playing: Cute Without the E

I remember the smell of burnt wood scraping against the back of my throat. Like cinnamon. Like flames. And I remember the way the blunt tasted like a vanilla cupcake. And mint from the mouthwash we splashed before we headed out into the cool October air, so everytime our lips crashed together we didn't eat nicotine. Though I alway told him, the way his clothes smelled like cigarettes and cologne got me completely hypnotized. Under a spell I never wanted to be broken. We only smoked half on the short walk from the car to the Historic District of Staten Island. We parked on some random side street where I noticed Rude's BMW already blending into the dark, dead, trees which wrapped their branches like the claws of death.

Much to Reno's chagrin, who grumbled about scratches on the paint.

I clipped our stash on a chain linked fence which shuddered as we walked past. Offering a whisper of warning we refused to heed.

Many of the houses were dark with sporadic orange and black lights. But we lurked in the shadows of the overhead electric poles as we snuck up to the rotten away barrier between us and our objective. Decked out in plain black hoodies, hats, gloves, and boots which can handle rough terrain, I navigated Reno to the bent iron, a perfect size for teenagers to sneak through. The overgrown grass tickled at my exposed face as I quickly brushed away the small gnats reaping the benefits of global warming not damning them to hell. Reno cursed behind me as he fiddled with his flashlight.

"Wait," I scolded, "We're still too close; we don't want the cops to see us."

I grabbed his hand; and it felt good to be in control for once.

We finally came upon clearing. The first decaying remnant of the 1800s coming into view. Faded red brick cracked and cried. Sprayed with stripes of graffiti from the urban explorers before us. The door, the color of rust, sported a new silver padlock- a replacement from the one before. Which replaced another before that. In the long line of teenagers getting smart to their poor attempts at security. Reno didn't look impressed until I told him this wasn't the main hospital. We are at the threshold of the distant past. Forty-five acres of farmland spanned this graveyard; which had once been the site of Seaview Hospital.

The night thick with black ink, as only the waning crescent moon offered a pittance of light. I illuminated the building quickly to ensure no one found a way inside to provide the first jump scare-

But the crack from abandoned branches sent a chill down my spine.

I jumped. We snapped our necks towards the sound. Waited. Our breath hung in the air as we tried to quiet all noise and focus on what could be hiding just beyond the abundant foliage.

Deafening silence greeted us. A true quiet. One not heard in the boisterous city- one which felt familiar to Reno when he explored the overrun paths near his home.

No songs from crickets.

Birds already migrating south for the upcoming winter...and the lack of groans from trees as the wind hummed against their branches felt unnatural.

Then a whimper-

Or a moan.

Or maybe a set of footsteps approached. And Reno and I- not scared at all, just precautious- ducked towards the side of the building. Crouched down and ears strained for anymore unwanted music. Reno, hovering directly over me, hissed about getting arrested. But I scolded him- no one gets arrested. And even if the cops caught us, worse they'd do would be to call our parents. But Reno still didn't like that outcome. And I had been too busy shushing him, we hadn't heard the gaggle of girls until their flashlights shun directly into our eyes,

Followed by the thunder of a boo and raining giggles.

Luckily, Reno and I were too engrossed in our own discussion to be frightened by the attack. No one needed to hear me scream at Yuffie's face shrouded in possessed shadows.

Reno did growl and tried not to make it too obvious he reached for the switchblade he brought in his pocket.

"You guys look like ya saw a ghost!" Yuffie cackled.

Just behind her, Tifa smirked down at us while Aerith rolled her eyes with a more genuine smile on her glossed lips. Reno and I rose to our feet and dusted off our pants to more jeers from Tseng and Rude we just ignored.

"It's Halloween, everyone deserves one good scare, I guess." I murmured towards the group.

"I say we got you good," Tifa winked.

"I ain't fuckin' scared of shit," Reno grumbled, "Especially ghosts."

"There's no ghosts here," Vinny deadpanned, "Just homeless people and heroine needles."

"Great." The red-head shot me an incredulous look, which I shrugged off. Reno wasn't exactly pumped about recreating a Ghost Hunters' episode in the abandoned mental hospital in West Bumblefuck, Staten Island. Especially on our anniversary. And even more so when it was announced that Elena and Cissnei- who had been arguing over which one of them would hold the flashlight- would be joining us on this annual event. He was over disturbing the dead for human's morbid curiosity. But I, for some reason, felt drawn to this place which held so much history in its crumbling walls.

So much tragedy etched across the foundations of these unsteady buildings. Stories never told boarded up behind weak wood and asbestos fog. There seemed to still be magic left here. And the older I got, the less mysterious the world became, so maybe I clung to this one bit of nostalgia.

We counted our growing numbers, and duly noted Cid and Barret's absence was probably not coincidental, and decided to head inward towards the patient pavilion. There, a labyrinth of underground tunnels spread like a spider's web just underneath these paths; once used by infamous urban legend, Cropsey, to ensnare his child prey. Tifa jumped on Rude's back with a slight giggle- and the tight end had no problem hoisting his tiny girlfriend. Vinny and Yuffie hung close, arguing over which direction to go, which seemed to be the frequent tone of their voices. Cissnei and Elena huddled together and kept low as they shared equal responsibility for the one flashlight they brought. Tseng and Aerith held hands, which seemed unusual for them. And I couldn't place why they suddenly seemed so far apart despite their fingers linked tightly together.

I often think back to how typical this scene looked. Like a painting. Each pair existed in their own bubble. Whispers, which died as soon as they breached the air, to conversations we were not welcomed to. At the moment, it seemed like another group of disrespectful children breaking the rules because they are privileged enough to get away with trespassing. But these memories now, I cling to like faded photographs. We were still so naive.

Reno, still uneasy back then with any form of physical touch, walked next to me with his eyes moving along every corner for any uninvited guests. His hands plunged in his pockets, wrapped around the anniversary gift I gave him. He'd been on edge all day. Of course, he never told me why. Brushed off all attempts to inquire about why he drifted in and out of our conversations with changing the subject or getting me too hot to really care. It was more of the same story with Reno. And I decided to bite my tongue until our anniversary passed so it wouldn't ruin our plans.

I did want to fuck with him, however.

"Yo, watch out for ticks." I said as blank as possible.

He jumped back several steps, "The fuck you talkin' about ticks."

"There's a lot of thick grass here. Ticks love that shit."

"Fuck you, it's too cold for ticks." He said despite slapping at his pants and hoodie.

"You're afraid of ticks?" I snorted but he just shot me a tense glare.

"Ticks are parasites. They just suck your blood and offer nothing to society. Like babies."

"I really don't think the two are comparable, babe…"

"I swear, you are inspecting every inch of my body when we get back," he growled.

"I was planning on doing that any-"

My sentence was cut off by a rogue body colliding with mine and sending me to the floor. I felt Cid's breath on my ear as he mimed humping my leg.

"Hey sexy, fancy meeting you down here," he moaned and I elbowed him as hard as possible.

"Get your fucking ass off me!" I shouted.

I scrambled to my feet and quickly started swiping at the imaginary bugs crawling through my skin. Barret stood next to Reno, slightly shaking his head at the entire situation. Cid sprung to his feet after catching his breath, throwing his arm around me and looking directly at my boyfriend, currently with his Yankee hat low enough to obstruct the two tense blues.

"Oh," Cid started, "the warden let Cloud out for good behavior?"

"The warden, eh," Reno cocked his head, "That what y'all callin' me these days?"

Cid didn't answer immediately. Just ran his tongue over his lips and shrugged. Still a tight grip around my shoulders. And I felt sparks which died under the cold stare Reno offered the two of us. Until, finally, Cid answered. "Just haven't seen yous in a minute."

That was the polite way of saying it.

Unlike Tifa's lecture over the phone the night before when I continually shot down every idea they had this weekend. Unlike Rude's subsequent pleading to Reno at work that our frequent absences were becoming noticeable to the group. And the words they used to describe our relationship dissolved into accusations. I'd make plans with the group for the weekend. Run into each other at parties, we'd promise. But more often than not, I'd bail. And I know everyone thought it was to spend time with Reno. And they resented him for his role. Never telling me, of course. Just the group chattering their teeth at my empty spot in the circle and making plans without me.

And Reno could wave off their opinions with effortless precision.

While I started to feel the weight of their words.

We made our way towards the rest of the group. This time, Reno draped his arm on my shoulders and pulled me closer; and I tried desperately to ignore the look he gave the back of Cid's head. Like I tried desperately to ignore the way Cid threw him one more antagonistic smirk before he turned away from us.

Like I tried to ignore every whisper of foreshadowing swirling around our small group of misfits.

Because I wanted to enjoy this rare moment with my boyfriend. I wrapped my own arm around him; hooking my thumb through one of his belt loops so I couldn't be ripped away. Despite the cold, the warmth his body offered chased away all fear of the spectres hiding in the ruins of their past.

We all went through the first building our flashlights captured. The red brick dulled from exposure to the elements for the last fifty years. The door slightly ajar already, which should have set off alarm bells, but we took it as a win.

The only light came from the several flashlights. The sounds of our sneakers scraping against the cement floor ricochete across the empty hallways. We ducked in and out old bedrooms told spooky tales in hushed whispers.

I heard Cropsey was an escaped mental patient from here.

I heard the children he killed haunt the tunnels.

I heard they experimented on the patients here...

And no one cared.

Reno and I fell behind until only our lights danced across the walls. He would vanish just out of my sight. Flicker his fingers against my sides, or my neck…

Each time my stomach flipped and he snickered when my feeble attempts to stop him were defended. We stumbled into one of the many forsaken rooms to a gust of frigid wind. Our friends' voices faded into the distance.

Just us.

He grabbed my waist and pulled me against him. And I didn't even wait to press my lips on his.

He tasted like melting icicles when our tongues met. I shuddered and wrapped my arms around his neck; ignored the laugh which rattled in his chest like old bones.

But he pulled back first. "Aight, chill, kid." he smirked, "Can't be fuckin' here."

"Oh? Scared?"

"Yeah, that I'll catch somethin' down here and my dick'll fall off."

"The treated tuberculosis here, not syphilis." I dragged my flashlight across the room with Reno's hands firmly on my hips as he kissed along my jaw, until I rested the light on the dripping red lettering. "Heh, check this out."

Reno turned towards the light and let out an uneasy laugh. "I taste like the dreams of mad children, huh? Chill. Chill." He backed up towards the exit, tugging my belt as he moved. "You think one of the patients here wrote that shit?" He asked nonchalantly- or at least he tried to hide the caution in his tone.

"Maybe...or some fourteen year old did to fuck with people."

"Yeah some fourteen year old, or you?"

I smirked, "Maybe…"

But I didn't. And the words gave me pause- like echos from a different life.

We continued down the corridor, following the soft chuckles and yellow lights moving like flames. We stumbled upon the rest of the group when Rude sprung from behind one of the doors shouting about spiders.

"It's just a cave spider," Tifa sassed, as she reached for the creature resting in the corner.

"Fuck that. I fuckin' hate spiders!" Rude argued. "It's all this shit bag's fault."

"What I do now?" Reno chuckled.

"You put a huntsman spider in my bed when I was eight!"

"It wasn't a huntsman, pussy, it was a fucking house spider." He laughed. "Besides, that's what you get for snitchin' on me."

"I told you, that wasn't me!"

Tifa must have accidentally jostled the spider's web, because the shadow of an enormous leg flinched, sending the girls screeching and Rude out the door with with a "Fuck all of you" booming behind him.

A crash of...something on the other end of the building shook the walls.

We swung around. Froze. I strained my ear for all follow up. At this time of night, Vinny wasn't exaggerating about who could be using these empty vessels as home.

"I can't believe I let yous talk me into this bullshit," Barret announced and followed his football buddy out the room.

I'm not sure who suggested we do a sweep.

Maybe Cid.

Didn't sound like such a bad idea. The entrance to one of these tunnels was sure to be somewhere. That's definitely what we want to be encroaching on at this hour. Smart.

We started off in a tight pack, but once again, we drifted through other corridors and paths without much instinct. Just following a silent call. A pull in the pits of our stomachs. I was so engrossed by the images coming to life with the glow of my flashlight, wondering about the lives of corpses, I didn't realize I became separated from the pack.

I reached a dead end. A room. Much like the others, with a collapsed ceiling, piles of wood pushed to the sides with the old gurneys and morgue tables…

I shuddered when my light flickered against a couple of empty and torn sleeping bags. And old bottles of vodka rolling down an incline that didn't exist. If I felt anything, it was the crushing sensation in my chest. Like I was being pushed out by an unseen force.

Then I became very aware of how alone I was.

My ears muffled, creating noises to rationalize the emptiness in the air.

Air that didn't smell. No hint of waste or decomposition in such a place ravaged by time. It was like being underwater. But I could breath.

Like trapped in a tight squeeze. But comforted by the embrace.

And I knew I should have been afraid. But I wasn't.

I did, however, lose it when Cid grabbed my shoulder and I almost knocked him out from the sudden burst of adrenaline. But luckily he dodged the fist, as if he expected it, and laughed it off while I struggled to catch my breath. Called him an idiot, once he put the flashlight to his face so I could see him- and know it was him and not some imposter. The cool smile. Slate eyes. Growing blonde hair hanging over his red bandana. I still shoved him away for being a jackass creeping up on me. I felt caught. Like I had been doing something...wrong.

"Did you tell your mans yet!" he whisper shouted in my face.

"Chill!" I snapped, and looked down the hallway for any friends of foes. "No. I'm waiting till it's legit."

"We have a name; it's legit!"

"Are we really sold on the Britney Screamos?" I cringed.

"What? We're a screamo band doing Britney Spears covers, what else would we be called?"

"Uh...anything else except that?" I pleaded. But this was the end of that discussion. The three other random members and I lost that war when none of us could come up with a better name last practice. Our first show on the horizon and the promoter commission posters to be put up around the Island, so we needed to commit to something before we were dropped from the line up. Six months of practice, that was it. My hands clammed at the thought of performing in front the friends and family of Deepground-the island's biggest local act.

Of course, my friends would be there- which didn't comfort me at the time. And worst off, I hadn't told Reno what I was really doing every Wednesday and Friday night.

"Our show is coming up," Cid argued, "Whatcha gonna tell him when he wants to know where you're at on a Saturday night?"

"I'll tell him," I sighed, "it just feels surreal. I don't know- I never played guitar in front of people; just him. I just... it feels weird." I frowned. Cid didn't understand; he told me with the gentle shake of his head. And I didn't have the words to explain my hesitation on telling my boyfriend about the band Cid and I formed. A secret I needed to keep locked in my chest.

Cid flashed his light into the room, "this place looks familiar."

I shrugged, "We've probably been in every room here."

"Isn't this where Kyrie and her friend dared us to make out?"

I was taken aback. Flashed my light in his face, but he wasn't even looking at me- eyes drifting through the room just over my shoulder. "Uh, no." I muttered, "that was at South Beach."

"Maybe another time?" he inquired.

I tried to laugh it off. "I don't know, bro. Girls are always askin' us to make out."

I went to slide around him, but he stopped me. "We should play truth or dare."

"Really? All of us? Is this a twelve year olds sleep over party?" I managed a nervous chuckle.

"Nah, just you and me!"

"Seems kinda lame just you and me."

"Come on, don't be a pussy."

I have to believe part of me was curious where he was going with this. No other reason why I didn't just punch him in the stomach and continue down the vacant corridors on my own. But I justified my agreement with the sooner I indulge his request, the sooner he'd get bored and we could leave. "Fine, go."

"Truth or dare."

"Truth," I huffed.

"You a top or a bottom?"

I laughed. And he just smiled back in the way that disarms a person. "Guess." I smiled coyly. I remember the sudden butterflies as I played into his hand. But I can't remember why he was able to make it so easy. Maybe because this was before everything went down...

"Bottom."

"Wow!" I shouted, "Fuck you!"

"I'm sorry, I just don't see Sinclair getting topped by you!"

"We switch…"

"Ah, who would have guessed?" his eyes twinkled to a forest green under the weakening light. "Okay, go. Ask me."

"Uh, fine, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

I anticipated a dare…

He always went dare first- he wanted to prove something to everyone. That he wasn't...scared of anything. I didn't have a question ready and stuttered out the first thing that popped in my head. "Do you like anyone right now?"

He waited a couple of beats before he effortlessly said, "yes."

"Who?" I asked, "Cissnei? Elena? Not Jesse right?"

"Hey hey! You only get one question, bro," he chided before continuing,"Truth or dare?"

"Jesus Christ," I grumbled. "Truth."

He chastised me for being boring, first.

"If you could have sex with anyone in the group, who would it be?"

"Uhm...if they were gay and I was single?"

"I mean, sure, if that makes you feel better."

"Vinny."

Cid recoiled, "That kid don't fuckin' shower! He's got a cheese dick bro!"

"Don't kink shame me."

"Really, though, Vinny?"

"What? Should I say you?" I snarked with a mocking smile.

"Obviously," he returned the smirk.

"Thought I told you, you ain't my type."

"So, I have to dye my hair red and talk like I'm from the South?"

"I mean, it'll be a start…"

Everything sounded in jest. But his tone seemed to hide clandestine meanings behind his words from the obvious hitch in the back of his throat.

But it was familiar. Like the nightmare of this place.

So, I didn't mind when we both leaned against the wall, exchanging whispered jabs like clinking swords, or when he seemed to move closer into my space.

I asked him again- and he went for truth.

I swerved the question on the tip of my tongue and asked him about all the mysteries of his universe. Like his mom and her new boyfriend. And his undiscovered future. And he shared some of the more fragile parts of him. The light slowly fell to the shrinking distance between us.

He told me the only time he felt free was when he screamed into a microphone all the stolen words he needed to say. And that he couldn't have started a band without me.

I remember the burn in the cheeks.

A twitch in my lips.

I thanked the ghouls for casting shadows that hide my face. And try to make my escape with a soft thank you and a weak lie.

"One more," he pushed and I groaned.

"I'm going to keep picking truth, bro."

"Fine," he took a breath, "What's your boyfriend's problem with me?"

I froze, more from confusion than anything else. "Reno doesn't have a problem with you?"

"Seemed like it lately," he mumbled, "And you don't chill anymore-"

"I literally saw you a couple of days ago at practice..."

"That doesn't count. You don't hang out with us anymore and everyone's noticed it."

"Everyone," I mocked; the sudden flush of heat rose in my chest, "Or just you and Tifa?"

"I'm just saying, guy. You used to fuck with us everyday and now we barely see you-then everytime we do, you bring your boyfriend who just sits in the corner mean mugging people."

"That's just his face!" And that was the god honest truth. "Trust me, he doesn't have an issue with any of you." But that was probably heavier on a lie. He never said it back then, but I know Tifa had a way of crawling under his skin and his restraint began to wear thin at this point. But not Cid. Even if there was a strain in his tone when the blonde boy got just a little too close or would force a shot in my hand.

I ignored it. Like I ignored the way Cid would occasionally try to fuck with him to get a rise.

Chalked that up to Cid's abrasive personality.

"I just," he continued, "miss the way we used to all chill."

I tried to keep my eyes from rolling out of my head. "When I would get so fucked up, I couldn't even walk home?"

"No not-"

"Or when I would black out and start throwing punches? Betcha liked that one, bro."

"Aight, guy," he forced a laugh, "Don't get ya tiddies twisted."

I felt a cold stare run up my back. But the heat in my chest remained constant. I gripped my flashlight with such force, but didn't bring it to eye level with my friend across from me. I remember replaying the scene in my head as I watched the shadow of Cid lean boredly against the stone wall. His own flashlight rising from my dirty black jeans to the plain black hoodie zipped up tight. And I knew his eyes were drifting along with a solemn expression. And even in the untapped darkness enfolding us in this corridor, I knew all the words already crashing in the back of his throat.

I knew all along. In every band practice with just the two of us. In every shared cigarette at a party. And every shot that we funneled when he could coax me away to a quiet corner. And I knew what he danced around with his poorly-timed game and invasive questions-

But Cid always had shit timing.

"Truth or dare," I said one last time with a sudden sharpness which hung in the chill of my breath.

"Dare." He boldly proclaimed.

"I dare you to go up to my boyfriend and say all that shit to his face." I shrugged, "Then you can tell him about our show comin' up."

And I stomped away- angry at something I couldn't exactly articulate- and Cid cursed under his breath.

And I grew tired of all the secrets we were hiding from each other.

Despite the heavy darkness, the buildings seemed to shine a hazy blue. I wandered on my own. Not lost, but following an invisible thread. I walked by stone walls, a damp chill grazed my bones as I moved through one of the smaller resident quarters. Cots left to the elements, to melt and be reclaimed by the earth. Scattered like tombs. The only sound from my heavy footsteps crunching dried leaves.

Turning them to dust.

Picked up the howling wind into tiny tornadoes.

The empty in my chest seemed to pull into my stomach. My skin goosebumps from the ghostly cold- like tiny nails pinching my flesh. I ascended an unsettled staircase which must have once glimmered gold. At the top, I scanned the vacant rooms and chased away the shadows playing tricks with my eyes as my flashlight engulfed each crevice. I took an unsteady seat on the top step and stared directly into a void at the center of the ceiling, casting an unearthly spot light at the abyss below. I felt suspended through time. I existed everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. I felt present. And as if outside my body- watching myself with glassy eyes stare into space wondering why I felt this way in the first place.

And then, I remembered why this was so familiar.

The creak of the stairs didn't do much to capture my full attention- but I recognized the uneven footsteps as they approached. Reno grumbled under his breath about looking for me for hours before joining me.

"You didn't even flinch," he observed.

"Knew it was you," I remarked casually, "I can tell you're coming from a mile away."

"Damn, and here I thought I could be a spook and sneak up on ya."

"Gonna have to try harder than that to scare me."

I felt his eyes press into me. He was close enough that sprinkles of light from the exposed stars were enough to illuminate the constrained features of my face. Twisted and torn to try to give off the illusion of apathy. Apathy towards something I couldn't exactly explain. And before he could open his mouth to inquire about my whereabouts, I pulled out the other half of the blunt and a lighter.

"Feels disrespectful," I mumbled as I sparked the blunt.

"To who? The rats?" He snickered before taking the stick from between my lips and taking a hit.

"Nah, the ghosts."

He caught the laugh in his throat and sputtered out smoke from between his lips. "You believe in ghosts, kid?"

I toiled the question for a few beats. Noted the numbness which tingled along my mouth and jaw.

"I believe...we-humans-are powered by a fragile fatty organ which controls every single part of our bodies. And also sophisticated enough to individualize personalities for each person. Can be molded by time and experience. Can absorb every bit of trauma but can be crushed with just enough pressure…

We are made up of stardust. And electricity. We spark and fade. And I have to believe when we die we leave something behind. Maybe not a ghost, or spirit, but maybe energy? Emotions can be powerful. Maybe ghosts are just the residue we leave behind. The baggage, kinda. Think about what happened here? A Lot of people suffered and died. Some from disease, others from neglect. Think of the intense sadness and anger they felt before they passed. Felt so deep it lingers even when the body ceases to exist."

I absentmindedly played with the sleeves of my hoody. Pulling them down over my hands to hide my broken limbs.

"You think about this alot?"

I shrugged, "Sometimes. When I come here, I guess more. I just know how they must have felt. For a bit, they treated cholera and tuberculosis here, but before that it was a sanitarium for the mentally ill and undesirables. Shoved in here so they couldn't disrupt the outside world. Forgotten. Abandoned. Their minds dissolving in these halls until they died alone. Must have been terrifying for these people."

"Sounds like ya speakin' from experience?"

I remember looking down at my dirty converses on the cracked wood of a disintegrating staircase. And recalled every time my eyes met the floor when this topic breached the surface; and all the stigmas that follow like a distorted shadow every time I mention I stayed at a place just like this...

And told him…

How I remembered the smell of the ocean air from outside the facility. And how it smelled of salt and summer. And freedom from the barbed wire fence. And the irony-I hated the ocean and all her mysteries. But standing in the blistering sun, with bandages over my wrists, pale white and red hot anger still welled from within, I longed for the cool water to run across my feet, again.

And I told him

About the boy two rooms down who screamed all night.

The girl who found me and told me we were destined to save the world.

And the kid who punched the orderly in the face.

I told him how loud the whole world was. And the noise pulsed in my head well after I left.

I told him the general statements.

I didn't tell him about how my doctor suggested I did it for attention. Or how my mom cried every time she came to visit. How the doctors told her she couldn't come anymore because it upset me too much.

I didn't tell him I was the kid who punched the orderly. And I didn't tell him how after the first week, I realized why the boy screamed all night. How I didn't scream. But cried until my throat was raw and the tears ran out.

I avoided telling him how my dad never visited. Not once. He wasn't even there to pick me up when the day came, three weeks after I was admitted against my will. For your own good. They sang. And part of me wanted to believe them.

I didn't tell him that 80% of people will try again within the first year of the initial attempt.

I didn't tell him, that while I wasn't in that bracket, the nightmares that tore at my brain

And the medication

And the mockery,

I found other ways to hurt myself.

But I did tell him how my mother forced me to go to Disney World as soon as I got out.

And he snorted trying to stifle the laugh.

"Seriously," I scolded, shooting him an annoyed look.

"Sorry, I'm just imagining a miserable Cloud wearing Mickey Mouse ears and a Korn hoodie in front of Cinderella's castle."

"Heh," I chuckled, couldn't help myself. "It was actually a Limp Bizkit hoodie."

"Even better."

I tucked my hands under my arms- lying to myself that the October cold was biting through my gloves. And at this Reno moved closer so our legs touched. And like instinct, I dropped my head into the spot where his shoulder and neck met- to get as close to the light and warmth as I physically could. My mind felt fractured by my own words. Memories I've tried to eradicate with many of those blackout nights bubbled to the surface. But there was relief in telling him the small bits. The ones I could bear to articulate.

The unease still existed in my chest cracked open. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the smell of the sea air tickling my skin. The cold water rushing over my bare feet.

"You think about...it... Alot?" Reno asked.

I knew what "it" meant. I opened my eyes, "Sometimes."

He tensed up, "recently?"

"Define recently."

"I don't know….since we've been together."

"Round one or round two…"

"Cloud."

"Yes."

The word cut my lips.

He didn't ask me when. He knew when as soon as my tense yes fell from my lips like shattered glass. And he knew the responsibility he held for the catastrophic event which led me to the beach and my intended last cigarette, ever. I thought for a moment bringing it up with such venom- called him out for still associating with the monster who forged the entire Myspace page which outed me. But I feared if I started listening off all his flaws, I wouldn't be able to stop. So I plugged my words with the rest of the blunt and let the dreamy feeling of floating through space tingle across my skin. My brain fogged over all my painful memories.

Locking them in a tomb.

"You know," I murmured listlessly, trying to change the subject, "Being homosexual was considered devient behavior. We probably would have ended up in this place back then."

Reno shifted, "Yeah, that's chill."

"You know what they used to do to us? Lobotomies, I think. Electroshock therapy-"

"Okay, shit!" he snapped and I jumped off him like sudden a shock bolted through my body. His eyes remained pointed-steady- at the ruined rod iron balcony ahead. His leg rattled the world beneath us. "You really gotta talk about that fucked up crap?"

We both wilted into ourselves. An unnerved silence descended between us.

He took a couple of more aggressive hits from the blunt, then...I guess he saw the shattered look on my face...he placed the blunt between my lip- which I took without looking at him. He then wrapped one arm around me with a slight tug and mumbled a soft sorry. And quickly forgave him. His anger wasn't directed towards me...and I should have remembered his own scars.

With my free hand, I danced my fingers up and down his leg. Falling back into a distant reverie…

"Alternative universe," I said, "we are trapped in an asylum and have to escape. We kill the evil doctors and live happily ever after."

A tiny chuckle rumbles through his chest. "I prefer the alternative universe where I'm your pimp and your my sugar baby."

"Or, how about the universe where I am the stoic hero and you're the wise ass villain."

"Do I get to kill a lot of people?"

"Sure."

"Sick. Everyone likes a good 'enemies to lovers' story." He took my hand and slowly intertwined our fingers together. "I'm okay with this universe. I found you already…"

I smiled. "I'll find you in every universe."

And he squeezed my hand. "Me too."

Weed discarded. He pulled me into a kiss I accepted because it felt like all his unspoken words crashing together. Like firecrackers in July. Or tsunamis after an earthquake. I moved with his lips until I felt myself return to center. Back in the present not floating through unchecked time. And I placed my hand on his restless leg until it calmed-and I realized how similar and different our paths were. Like two parallel streams that suddenly intersected and merged.

And this would be the truest love I'll ever have-

And I couldn't believe my friends would want to disrupt this?

How could they not see what I did?

My thoughts were sliced silent when a colossal crash roared through the empty walls. Reno and I froze. Lips barely touching and his eyes jetting around the area behind me trying to locate the source of the sound; all while I tried to rationalize the intrusive thoughts that shot through my brain. And I like to think that I'm not a pussy. And I like to think that if I was pushed into a life or death situation, despite my previous feelings towards living, I would find the survival instinct burst inside of me. But when my brain signaled my boyfriend and I were about to end up the first victims of some slasher's machete in this cheesy horror movie, I remained completely rooted to my seat.

Then...instead of the sound of finger nailed knives against old pipes, the shrill shouts from several girls leaked through the broken windows of the building.

"Are those the girls?" Reno asked

"They don't sound scared…" I tried to even my breathing so I could make out the disembodied yelling breaking through the October wind. And once I heard slut and whore effortlessly thrown about, I groaned.

And that was how easy an entire night of simple illegal trespassing on private property turned to hell. Elena Bush, in all her intelligence, thought the darkened corridors of the nurses quarters would be the perfect scene to make her move on the object of her current affection. And depending on who you talk to on the island, Tseng either accepted the impassioned kiss with equal force. Or he tried to push the tiny, attractive, blonde girl off of him.

Unfortunately for Elena, she hadn't double checked for any stray lights. Too dedicated to her mission, she missed Tifa, of all the people, creeping through the empty hallways trying to scare her own boyfriend. When Tifa heard the tell signs of two people engaged in smacking lips, she flashed her light on the duo- thinking it would be Reno and I, or Tseng with his actual girlfriend. Instead, she caught her best friend's boyfriend, with his hands just hovering over Elena's waist while the girl gripped his face. They had tried to scurry away from each other like roaches…

Utter the same excuses.

But after Tifa's been bullied her entire middle school life, by the same kind of girls with the easy to manage straight hair and perfect makeup and perfume the scent of Blue By Dolce-she decided Elena was just the girl to pay for all their injustices. And she swung the fist that knocked the blonde girl's silver hooped earrings out of her ear.

And then again.

And again.

And grabbed her by that beautiful blonde hair and dragged her out into the whispering darkness. To the center of the courtyard leading to the Children's hospital to continue to destroy Elena's perfectly shaped face.

By the time we got to the scene:

Aerith pieced together the information, scanning her big green eyes between the two girls tangled on the floor- listened to the chorus Tifa shouting letting her friend know exactly why. And the brunette girl swung to her boyfriend and asked the simple question. "What did you do?"

Right at the same time, Cissnei tried to help her friend by tackling Tifa to the ground and returning the favor-

Too bad for her, Yuffie caught her by her curls and ripped her off Tifa. Elena crawling towards Tseng for help, only to get dragged by the even more enraged red-eyed girl-

It took both Reno and Rude to pull Tifa off Elena. And Tifa, displeased having my boyfriend touch her, went for him in a fit of rapid punches he effortlessly blocked by backing up- but I saw the narrow of his dangerous blue eyes. I saw the rage begin to bubble. But Rude grabbed her by her small waist and started for the exit with her shouts of let me fuckin go-a! Dying in the night air. And still gripping a chunk of Elena's long, blonde, hair, dancing in the wind.

Cid tried to get Yuffie off Cissnei and his attempt rewarded by a quick kick to his nuts- sending him to the ground with a yelp.

Aerith punched Tseng in the chest and rained her insults onto the boy who weakly deflected all the blame on the girl crying on the cold tar with blood exploding from her nose.

What a fucking scene….

And then a click of a camera. I turned to Vinny, who appeared next to me with a digital camera.

"It's like a renaissance painting," he remarked.

And it was a disturbing look at the consequences of having no consequences. Unsupervised teeangers with nothing better to do; running with ghosts, playing dangerous games with each other. And not even alcohol as a fuel this time around. Just us and our complete disregard for each other.

Vinny managed to get his girlfriend off Cissnei in less than subtle movements. Barret helped Elena and Cissnei, I guess since no one else would. And I went for Aerith, wrapped my arms around her small form to keep her hands down and halt her assault on her boyfriend. And Tseng and I exchanged a sore look. His eyes aflamed. We exchanged words I can no longer recall, but I remember the way Reno forced himself between us-staring his best friend down with threats of violence if Tseng made any move against me.

And while they were engrossed in their standoff, I pulled Aerith through the ruined farmlands. Through the thick tall grass she watered with her hot, angry tears. Pushed her out the small opening where she burst and bloomed like a flower in spring. A rose. With thorns.

We walked back to the cars.

Her body tremblings. Fist gripped tight. She sobbed through her chest and the dawn of realization- that regardless of who made the first move- her boyfriend cheated on her. In front of all their friends. And I walked beside her, saying nothing.

No words of encouragement.

Or empathy.

I couldn't find them. They got stuck in my throat and buried with all the anxiety which crawled up my spine-as lights from the neighboring houses sprung to life.

Rude and Tifa were fighting by the former's car until they spotted us. The raven-haired girl ran to her friend and hugged her tightly. Words came easier to Tifa as she comforted Aerith. Her bruised knuckles pulsed as she squeezed the crying girl against her chest, before helping her into the BMW.

"We're going to Vinny's," Tifa proclaimed after closing the door.

I ripped off the black hat which stuck to my head- sweat beading off my forehead despite the cooling night air- and ran my fingers through my hair. "I can't, Tif. I have school tomorrow."

"So? Since when do you care about school?"

And I sighed, "Also, it's…mine and Reno's anniversary." But she continued to stare at me with vexed red eyes digging into my very core. "I...want to salvage this night."

"Aerith needs us, Cloud." She responded sternly.

"Aerith needs to go home and sleep it off. Talk to Tseng in the morning, or something," I pushed back weakly.

Rude slunk into his car without another word, leaving the two of us in a standoff. A black ocean between us. I caught Aerith in the backseat of the car, Rude turned around trying to comfort her. Half-lidded green eyes with drying tears. I could see the blue light reflecting off her reddened skin. And I imagined it was Tseng's pleading text messages illuminating all the broken lines of her face.

I caught Reno helping Cid down the street towards our car, with Barret on their tails shouting that cops are being called.

And I knew I had a choice to make.

"There's nothing I can do right now-"

"You're really going to choose him over us?" Tifa's voice cracked.

"It ain't like that, Tifa-"

"You're going to choose the guy who sold you out that scumbag, Rufus Shinra, and outed you to the entire school? Really?" Her soft voice felt like tiny needles pricking along my skin. She didn't get mad. Which startled me more. She just stood there with an empty expression, a split lip and bruised eye, and her pointed stare like a gun right into my eyes.

I didn't say anything. I didn't correct her...because she was right, at the end of the day.

And when she shook her head and mumbled pathetic under her breath, she was right about that too…

We went our separate ways.

I got into the car I shared with my boyfriend. Cid in the back holding his package and mourning the death of his future child, Barret demanding he be taken home immediately. And I could see his reflection in the side view mirror, resting his face into his fist, he was just about done with all of us. And our drama.

We drove in distressing silence.

Took the backroads of Staten Island. The darkened, bare trees, creating false demonic images as they blurred passed my window. My head rested on the cold glass. And I stared at my own wounded reflection, replaying all the words my friends slung at me today. All the budding memories I thought I kept hidden, suddenly seemed closer. Tangible. Like broken glass I could touch and cut my skin. And I clenched my jaw and fist to stop all those terrible feelings from coming back.

I had wanted the night to be over after we dropped off the boys. But Reno, wrecked with clear exhaustion and gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, had other plans as he flew down Hylan Boulevard. To the edge of the island. Where the blue lit bridge which led to Brooklyn, twinkled against the cloudy night sky.

I protested when he pulled into the beach parking lot. But he ignored all counter arguments. Instead strolled to the passenger side and opened the door for me. And when he held out his hand, I took it and let him, once again, control my movements. We walked down the brown sand; the tiny pebbles sneaking in through cracks in our shows. The ocean, black, blended with the sky. But the hum of waves gently crashing onto the shore pulled us closer.

We made it to the edge of the water. Without a word, we took off our socks and shoes as if we had planned this all along.

I hissed when the frigid water ran over my feet.

Watched as the water and seaweed ran over my toes and sunk me deeper into the sand.

We stood like this forever. Staring out into oblivion. The New York Skyline. To home.

He brought me here instead of home because he watched my eyes die like stars as he drove around the entire island. Because he wanted me to remember the desire for freedom I had even when I felt trapped. Because that wasn't just freedom I longed for when the smell of the ocean air hit me; it was the hope for life. For living.

And in the aftermath,

We would return home and make love on the basement floor.

And he would whisper in my ear,

That I'm the ocean to him.

And when we finished, hot and burned from the rug,

I'll tell him how his association with Rufus Shinra makes me uncomfortable-

That the ocean felt like my grave not too long ago.

And he promised to dead Rufus.

In the aftermath,

I texted Aerith the next day.

That I loved her and I'm here…

She responded with Thanks, love you :)!

And pretended nothing happened. She was holding hands with Tseng two days later.

Though they still seemed impossibly far away.

While Elena couldn't show her face in the hallways.

She cried for long nights, her tears stinging the open wounds-

Both physical and not.

In the aftermath,

Tifa and I didn't talk for a week.

Cid and I didn't talk until practice when he, also, feigned ignorance.

Though when he handed me my guitar,

He let his fingers linger a second longer.

In the aftermath, I decided I needed to get off this island.

Cross rivers and highways to find another place.

Where the ocean doesn't both smell like death and hope.

Where abandoned hospitals don't have my ghost lurking through walls.

Searching for answers to life's questions.

Where I could breathe again.