"Oh, yeah...before I forget: your carpet is in," Bea said as she passed the weed pipe back to Trent.

"Oh, sweet. Thanks," he replied, taking a puff on it.

"Why are we getting carpet again?" Ann asked.

"Finishing out the basement," Mae said.

"Oh right," she replied. "Why are we doing that again? Not that I'm complaining, it's your guys' house and finished basements are totally cool, I'm just curious."

"Mae wanted it," Trent replied.

They were all gathered in the living now, Trent and Ann sitting on the couch, with Bea laying on them, her head in Trent's lap, all of them in nothing more than underwear. Mae was sitting on the floor nearby, and they were watching her go through Indigo Prophecy.

"What the fuck even is this game?" Ann asked. "Like, I can't tell if I'm just missing the point or it's missing it's own point or something."

"Uh...I don't know," Mae replied. "I mean, I love the atmosphere, and it feels deep, but...yeah. Hopefully we'll figure it out."

"It's...um...I mean, whether or not it's a coherent or well-told story is a thing each of us will have to decide for ourselves," Trent said.

"That's oddly specific and noncommittal," Bea said with a laugh.

"I guess I feel a little weird about it," Trent replied.

"Why?" Ann asked.

"Like...I was super into this ten years ago when I first found it. Like, so into it. I thought it was so cool, and so deep. But later on, when I started digging into forums and message boards online, a lot of people said that only fucking morons think Indigo Prophecy, or any games by that studio, are deep. It's kind of like, uh, baby's first nihilism or something? Like when you come across a concept for the first time at the age of twelve and think it's SOOOOO cool and deep, but in actuality it's super basic and it's really cringe to think that."

"You should like it if you like it," Bea said. "Fuck what everyone else says."

"No, I mean, I get that. It's just...it's a little complicated, in my head, as a writer. It's not something as simple as 'other people say it's lame, so I'm worried if I'll look dumb for liking it'," he replied. "It's just-it's more complicated. But...before I forget, Mae: why do you want to finish the basement out? You wanted to do it, like, all of a sudden," Trent asked.

"Oh. Um." Mae paused the game, but didn't look back at them. "That."

"Yes, that," Trent said.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Bea murmured as he laid a hand casually across her bare breast.

"Yeah, actually," he replied. "Am I bugging you?"

She giggled. "No."

"Mae?" Ann asked.

"So, uh, there is a reason," Mae said.

"What is it?" he asked. She didn't respond. "Come on, babe, whatever it is I'm sure it's fine."

"It might be really stupid," she replied.

"It probably isn't but even if it is, it won't be that big a deal," Trent replied.

"Yeah, we're allowed to do stupid things sometimes," Bea agreed.

She sighed and turned around fully to face them. She turned all the way around and folded her legs, looking up at them intently. "So, I got this idea. Of what I want to do. And it might be really stupid, but also it might be a big waste of time."

"Mae, you know we love you," Trent said, "it's not like I'll yell at you or make fun of you or anything. You can tell me."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hide anything, I just...a lot of people had said I have stupid ideas. And, I mean, I do have stupid ideas, is the problem. It's hard to tell what's stupid and what isn't...I want to do Let's Plays on YouTube. Of, like, these awesome old games you have," she said with a surprising gravity.

"I mean...okay?" Trent replied, sure that he was missing something. "That's...fine?"

"No, you don't, like, get it," Mae said, sighing.

"I get it," Bea said. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. "Mae has no income, Trent. This is going to be probably kind of expensive. She needs your help to do this. And, if I've interpreted this correctly, you want to do this as a job?"

"Yes. That. All of it. And I know it's stupid, because like a million people try to do this every year, and probably less than one percent of them actually make it work, but I want to do something, and I think I can do this, and actually maybe connect with people? But it would take money, your money, and I know I'd basically be gambling with your money-"

"Mae," Trent said.

"Yeah?"

"I'll help you make this happen."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

"For real? I mean, I wouldn't be mad if you said no. It'd be completely reasonable."

"It would be," Bea said, "she's right. It's a real shot in the dark."

"Right now, I still have money. This is important to you. I love you, I want you to be happy. I want to support you, like how you support me."

"And if it fails?" Mae asked.

"Then it fails. It's worth doing if you want to do it, Mae," he replied.

"I...thanks," she murmured, pulling her knees up against her chest and hugging them to herself. "But I want to do it on my own! I feel like...shit, I don't know. I had a lot of time to think. I said earlier that I felt like I couldn't really get any of my ideas off the ground, and that it was because the cult shit wasn't over. Now it is. And I've had a month to think. And now the time has come to try and get something off the ground. I feel like...I have to do something to help provide. I know that money isn't everything and there's other ways we can provide, but, like...you guys all have something. I don't want to be the only one who makes no money, but I also know I can't really hold down a job. I mean, I bagged groceries for awhile and that's so stupidly easy it hurts and I felt like I was fucking dying some of the time. I know it sounds so dramatic-"

"No, Mae, like, I get it," Trent said.

"Honestly, so do I. I only work at the Pickaxe because I literally fucking have to. And now I don't, and I want to quit already. Honestly, the thought of going back even one more time makes me want to vomit, but my sense of responsibility is too strong," Bea agreed.

"Yeah, I don't have that feeling quite so bad, but...dude, I feel you. Shitty jobs are shit. We only do them because we have to. If we don't have to, we don't do them. I mean, how many rich people's kids just fuck off all day every day because they can? Why do they get to do it? If we can make this work without any of us working, like, traditional 'jobs' then why the fuck shouldn't we?" Ann asked.

"I mean, I agree, it just still feels really weird. I don't know. I don't even know why I think this will work. I don't even, really. Like, logically. If that makes sense? It's just a gut feeling. I just feel like I gotta give it a shot, and I've been doing research...although, Bea, like, will you help me set up a website for myself? I would like help with that part," Mae asked.

Bea laughed. "Yeah, Mae, I will help you with that. I've been getting some practice in on website design, so I think I can manage it."

"Thanks...everyone. For being so supportive."

"What are you gonna call yourself?" Trent asked. "Or have you decided?"

"Oh yeah, I absolutely know what I'm gonna call myself: Mayday, the trash mammal playing video games like an absolute loser from my boyfriend's basement in the rust belt!"

"Wow, you might wanna workshop that," Bea said.

"No way, it's all true!"

"You aren't a loser," Trent said.

"Whatever, I can totally play that angle. People relate to losers!"

He sighed. "Well, you're the one in charge of this project, Mae. Just so long as you aren't doing anything illegal," he paused and looked at the weed pipe in his hand, "just so long as you aren't doing anything immoral, or compromising our safety, then do whatever makes sense."

"Awesome! When can we get the carpet?" she asked.

"Whenever, it's in," Bea said.

"But first paint. No point in laying down carpet if we're just gonna paint," Ann said.

"Yeah, plus you need padding to go beneath the carpet. Which, thankfully for you, some came with the carpet, and also, I know how to install it. Also, Trent, I finally found a buyer for the big-ass dresser thing down there," Bea replied.

"Chifferobe," he said.

"How the fuck do you know that and I don't? Whatever. They're willing to give up a freaking grand for it."

"Wow, you really upsold them on it," Trent muttered.

"Honestly I didn't. It's nice. Well-crafted and in good condition, and I guess made in the style of some specific era? I don't know. I've done enough research to know that it's not as crazy as it sounds. But somehow still forgot that stupid word. Gonna be a bitch to lug up here, but I'm more than willing to make that happen for two hundred and fifty bucks," Bea replied.

"Is that the last piece of furniture?" Ann asked.

"Yeah, it is," Trent replied.

That was another thing they'd been wrapping up in the wake of the cult, the furniture. They'd been finding buyers and selling it off. They'd made good money, good enough that Trent had managed to more or less stay at about ten thousand dollars in his banking account. But he knew that even with this final boost, it wouldn't last. Although it wouldn't be quite as steep of a financial bleed thanks to Ann's help now.

"Okay, so, I want to ask now that I'm all good and toasted and fucked, what have you all been up to? I know you've been making progress on stuff, but I've completely lost track…" Bea asked.

"You go first," Trent said, looking at Ann.

She grinned. "Well, now that I have a new laptop and real internet, thanks to Trent, I've started taking on my role as a freelance editor. Mostly I'm editing term papers and college assignments and short stories, but I recently landed two hundred bucks for editing a novel. I'm actually getting pretty decent at this. I'm still easing my way into it, since we aren't strapped for cash, but it's been nice to actually be able to have some goddamned money in my bank account and even help pay a few of the bills last week."

"That is fucking awesome, Ann," Bea said. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you," Ann replied with a smile. She started packing the pipe again. "Trent?"

"I'm not quite as successful," Trent said.

"You're getting there, babe," Mae said. "Come on, don't hold back."

"I've largely been spinning my wheels," Trent admitted. "I've got a grand total of seven completed titles. Five shorts and two novels. Ann and I have been working on getting them ready. Mostly I've been doing edits and rewrites. We've got two of the shorts basically ready to go, but not the rest. I've mostly just been doing research and setting up the backend stuff. I've got an account on Amazon, I've got some social media set up in my name, I've been working on that website we laid the groundwork for a few weeks ago, and I've been getting cover art assembled, or trying to. Just a ton of little stuff. But I haven't really been going at it, like, full-throttle, you know? Mostly, I've been trying to get my head back on straight."

"Dude, you got shot," Bea replied. "That's really understandable."

"Yeah, although it feels weird. Like, I'm really not in that much pain, I should be working more-"

"Trent, you were almost killed. Someone threatened your life...twice-no, three times now! Like, dude, we've all been through a lot, the trauma is real, okay?" Bea pressed.

"She's right," Ann said, "that's something I've had to learn. About trauma. You really do need to give yourself time to just process shit, and you can't really speed the process up."

"Okay, okay, understood," he replied.

"Also, you finished your first Demontower fan fic," Mae said.

"Yeah, but that's fan fiction," he replied. "I mean, it's important to me, I'm actually getting really into it. And I've started posting it to a few sites and it is getting a surprising amount of traffic, but, like, I can't get paid for it. But it's been a lot of fun. I've already started work on the sequel."

"Plus, it's totally getting your dick sucked," Mae said, laughing. "I am in love with this story. It's perfect. And it's for me. I've never had a story written, like, for me before. The fact that it's my boyfriend is just the coolest thing in the whole world."

"It is pretty cool," Ann agreed.

"Will you write me something, boyfriend?" Bea asked.

"Yeah, sure. What do you want?" he replied.

"I, uh...oh wow, you really turned that around on me. I didn't think you'd agree."

"Why do you keep thinking I'll turn down your requests?" Trent asked.

She sighed. "I just...I don't know, it's been my life. Um...let me think about it. I'll come up with a writing prompt or something."

"Okay."

"So Bea...sorry if this is too sudden or anything, but, like, are you planning on moving in with us?" Ann asked.

Bea sighed again. "I...don't know. I mean, yes? But I don't know when. I know my dad likes having me around the apartment, but now that I know that he's basically telling me to spread my wings and fly away and live my life if I want...I want to. I'm conflicted. It's not like he wants me to go. Honestly, I can tell he doesn't like the idea of me living with you guys."

"Can hardly blame him," Ann said. "I'm a criminal and recovered drug addict."

"Ann...that's not...he doesn't actually think that bad of you," Bea said, looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I was just making a joke. It's cool."

"It's mostly about me and Trent...and Mae. He knows we're fucking, but now I think he knows we're dating. Although I think he might think I'm bi, and that maybe I'm dating you and Mae...ugh, it's a mess."

"Bea...maybe I'm out of place, but like...does it matter?" Ann asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Does it matter what he thinks of your love life? I get it, he's your dad, and I'm kind of a hypocrite. Okay, I'm a huge hypocrite, because I don't want my mom knowing I'm regularly getting my brains fucked out by Trent and Mae, because she just would not understand on so many levels, but if she found out, I wouldn't lie, or try to justify myself. I'd just tell her how it is. You say he knows, and he's not comfortable with it, but ultimately...he is not you. You are you. You are the one who has to live your own life. And we love you, Bea."

"You're right," she murmured. Then she shook her head. "But...I don't want to fuck his life up. And I feel confident that if people knew I was in a poly relationship, they'd somehow take it out on him, or the Pickaxe. And with this sudden surge of good luck...what?" she asked.

"All the good luck that's been happening recently...is it because of the Black Goat? It ate, during the cave-in. Some of the cultists. And now we're experiencing prosperity. I just talked with Lori again, her parents won the lottery. Not, like, millions lottery, but like big money. And there's been other stuff happening. Gregg got a raise," Mae muttered.

"Well...either it's good luck, or a result of the Black Goat. Either way, we should take advantage of it while it's happening," Bea replied. "Also, something my dad told me in there that relates to you, Mae, is that he just hired your dad."

"Wait...what?" she asked.

"Yeah. I guess your dad is gonna become a repairman? Thanks to the increased business, firing Chris, and severely reducing my hours, he'll be able to pay your dad double what he's making right now at the frigging Ham Panther," she said.

"Does my dad...know how to repair stuff?" Mae murmured.

"I guess he's worked around machines enough that he picked up a lot of stuff. And I've been through some of the training, like, it's not hard. And your dad's still pretty sharp. He'll be going through on-the-job training for a month or two, but I'm sure he'll do fine."

"Wow, that is pretty cool. I know your dad will treat him better than the damned Ham Panther," Mae said. She sighed. "Is it wrong that we're prospering from this? I mean, I'm diametrically opposed to feeding the goat fuck just so that we can have good things happen to us. If we justify it by saying 'well they were bad people' then we're no better than the cultists…"

"We didn't feed them to it," Bea said. "Their dumbasses fed themselves to it, okay? If it's real, and it's a consequence of that stupid asshole getting them all killed and some of them fell down and fed the Goat, then let's just enjoy it, Mae. Use it for good. We didn't seek it, it fell into our lap, and what can we do, realistically? Turn away from every lucky event? Should your dad just say 'fuck off I'd rather stick with my shit job'?"

Mae sighed. "I mean no...you're right. It's done, it's behind us...oh, Bea! Would you make out with Trent on camera?" she asked.

Bea blinked a few times. "Uh...you wanna provide some more context for that or…?"

"You remember Lori?" she asked.

"Not...really? I know you just mentioned her but I don't know who that is."

"Oh, right. I forget not everyone knows each other like I do...she's a fifteen-year-old who loves horror movies and wants to make one of her own. She's got a camera, editing software, and an idea for a slasher movie. She wants me and Trent in it, and we've agreed. I'm the slasher. She wants Trent to be the first victim, and he's gotta be making out with his hot goth girlfriend, which would be you," Mae explained.

"Huh." Bea stared at Mae for a long moment, then reached out towards Ann, who had finished packing the pipe. She lit up, puffed on it, and passed it to Bea, who took it and puffed a few times. "Hmm."

"I'm genuinely impressed that there hasn't been an outright no," Trent said.

"I mean, it'd be acting, right?" Bea replied.

"That's literally what Mae said," Trent said.

Bea sighed. "I'm...so there's a part of me that's really 'fuck you' about our relationship, Trent. You're an amazing boyfriend, and I hate that I have to hide it from everyone. This would kinda be a nice way to be all 'fuck you' about it, but with plausible deniability. I can just say I was acting. I mean I imagine people are gonna see the movie...okay, you know what? Fuck yeah, I'm down. When do we do this?"

"Friday," Mae replied. "And oh my fucking GOD I'M SO EXCITED! WE GET TO BE IN A HORROR MOVIE TOGETHER!"

"It's pretty exciting," Bea agreed. "All right, now that we're all caught up, I wanna see more of this game. I think you might be onto something about your Let's Play ability, it's entertaining watching you play for some reason. Normally I'm not super down for that."

"I'm a natural," Mae said, turning back around and picking up the controller.