Pascal never really liked going grocery shopping.

Too much noise, too many people, and way too many distractions made every trip to the store a real nightmare for him. And it was especially true ever since he had Tycho - that small bundle of moonshine didn't only bring joy and laughter when he came into this world, but also lots of new expenses. And worries, too.

"Maybe I should bring him with me in the end..." he said as he was handing over his son to his younger brother.

"Are you kidding me?" Lazlo almost yelled at him, snatching Tycho away from his arms before Pascal could protest."I can't wait to spend some time with my lil' nephew!"

Pascal looked around: dirty clothes, empty bottles and dirty pizza cartons covered every single surface, and the smell of the herbs Lazlo smoked filled the place, mixing with a musky odor that stung his lungs.

"Please don't smoke weed with Tycho in the room..."

"Oh come on! I don't do that shit!" Lazlo looked at him appalled. "Now I moved to sage."

"Yeah... refrain from smoking it for the next hour please," Pascal shot back, "and stop stealing from Vidcund's plants. You know how he gets."

"Aye aye, captain!"

Pascal bent to pick up his bag and hesitated.

"You know what, maybe I should bring him with me after all, even if he hates the noise and the fluorescents and he always cries when-"

"P-boy! Stop! Relax!" Lazlo interrupted him. "Everything's gonna be alright... let me have some fun with Ty-choo." He was bouncing the baby on his legs, making funny faces, and the small alien laughed loud and serene. That calmed Pascal down enough to leave the house, almost speeding down the road before he could change his mind.

But now, at the grocery store, almost an hour after that exchange Pascal almost felt as if Tycho's life was hanging by a thread.

They had run out of their usual brand of baby formula.

Pascal had spent the past 30 minutes scanning the shelves, sitting down in the middle of the aisle, reading every single label of the baby formulas they had in store. He finally narrowed it down to two brands, but how could he choose? Same price, same nutritional value, the same stock photo of a happy toddler on the front - was that the only picture of a smiling baby available?

He could hear an imaginary clock ticking in his mind, as horrible scenarios involving Lazlo selling Tycho for different things filled his brain. What to pick, what to pick, what to pick…

"Uhm... excuse me? I need to go through..."

A deep voice, almost whispering, shook him. He looked up, wanting to apologize, but the words died in his mouth.

Pascal sat there, surrounded by baby formula tabs, as he looked speechless at the tall man that towered before him, so tall he would have the products on the top shelf at eye level if he stood straight; his shoulders hung instead, giving him an almost pathetic demeanor. His skin was so pale it looked gray in the neon lights of the store.

He looked, dumbfounded, at the man's angular face, sharp and pointy almost like his spiky mohawk; at the dark circles accentuated his sunken brown eyes; and while his face was void of any expression, he still gave off a sad aura.

Watcher, Pascal thought, an angel.

The man pointed a long, boney finger in front of him, above Pascal's head.

"Can I..."

"Oh sure! Let me just-" Pascal yelled, scrambling pathetically to pick up most of the tubs in his arms, kicking some away. The man bent the corners of his lips slightly in what was maybe meant as a small smile, and Pascal blushed hard, feeling his heartbeat pick up.

"Thanks," the other said, going through; Pascal watched him reach the end of the aisle and drop what looked like fifty packs of gauze bandages in his basket, then make a beeline for the registers and leave the store. No one seemed to notice him as if he was a ghost.

He looked back at the baby formulas he was holding and picked one with a white container and a black cap, without much thought.


"For real Pascal," Vidcund was yelling from their indoor greenhouse, "we have to do something about Lazlo's kleptomaniac tendencies! He stole all my tomatoes to make pizza sauce last night! ALL OF THEM!"

Pascal sighed, watching Tycho intently as he gulped down his baby bottle.

"And? That's the whole point of vegetables, right? To be picked and cooked." He took the bottle from Tycho for a moment, checking if it was still warm enough. Satisfied, he gave it back to his son. "Or do you like to leave them to rot in their vase?"

"I use them! For my experiments!" Vidcund screamed, indignated. "And anyway, I want him to stay away from my stuff! I feel like that's not too much to ask for, is it? For my stuff to be left alone, even if it seems so-"

"Yeah, yeah," Pascal brushed him off, watching Tycho first, then the clock. How could a baby take so long to finish some milk and cookies? "Do you need anything from the store? I'm going there in a few."

"Mmmh... you could pick me a couple of steaks? I wanna eat something fancy for dinner."

"Oh Watcher, finally," Pascal whispered as his child took a last sip from the bottle, and quickly picked him up from the baby chair he was sitting in, gently hitting his back to make him burp. "Please don't tell me you're still doing that stupid meat diet!" he yelled at his brother.

"What is stupid about it? That I'm sick and tired of people eating plants without thinking about the lives they're ending?"

"Yes, exactly that." As soon as Tycho gave a tiny burp, Pascal ran to the greenhouse and dropped him hastily on the workbench, right next to the small pot where Vidcund was lovingly planting new seeds. "Look, I gotta go, watch Tycho while I'm gone."

"What?! Wait, haven't you gone to the store three times already this week?" Vidcund said, looking up, but Pascal was already at the entrance, checking himself in a mirror. Maybe he should have worn contacts that day, but he hated the way they irritated his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I need something."

"That you didn't get in your last three trips? Some people need to work in this house, not like someone else, who's on paternity leave!"

"Work? What work?"

"My experiments!"

"Please, Vidcund," Pascal yelled back, opening the door and checking his bag, "we're astrophysicists."

And with that he ran out, slamming the door and leaving Vidcund speechless. The blond man looked at Tycho and picked him up, holding him up in front of his face.

"Well Tycho," he said, a resigned tone in his voice, "I hope staying with uncle Vidcund for a while will give you some good sense, that your father is clearly lacking."

Tycho burped, regurgitating some food. Vidcund looked at him disgusted.

"You're clearly a lost cause."


Pascal had to admit that maybe his brother had a point, this time, as he ran up and down the aisles, occasionally bumping over innocent people who were actually doing their shopping. He had scanned the whole store three times by now, but there was no trace of the pale man around - which was logical, it's not like people normally went grocery shopping five times a week. Not to mention, this store had such a good delivery program, he was shocked to find anyone still came in person.

Nonetheless, Pascal couldn't help but give a resigned sigh, stopping in front of the meat counter and picking up the steaks for Vidcund. Since their meeting, he couldn't stop thinking about the haunting look the man gave him, the way his slender frame moved around, almost floating, his long hands that looked bigger than Pascal's… he had to quickly shut down that thought, feeling his cheeks flush and heart beat faster. This was embarrassing - he almost felt like a high schooler again, getting a silly crush like that.

Maybe he had to make peace with the fact that he might never see the man again, even if he really wanted to. All he had was a face, and the place that they met at, nothing else. How could he even hope to turn around and see the black mohawk disappear around a corner between the aisles -

Wait. He did see that mohawk.

His heart stopped, uncertain of what to do: he couldn't let what might possibly be their only chance to meet again go like that, he had to approach him… but how? His head felt like it was going to burst, as he watched the other walk around the shelves. So, he decided the only thing a man in his late thirties could do in that case.

He followed him around the store.

He watched, as he picked more gauze bandages - maybe he's a medical student, exercising at home - a concerning quantity of disinfectant - maybe a germaphobe? A pro athlete who gets injured very easily? - an extremely long list of medications and drugs which… Well, yeah, it was kind of weird.

As the man picked up the various boxes, putting them in his shopping cart, Pascal wondering since when they had an in-store pharmacy, their eyes met for a moment.
They held their gaze for three seconds; Pascal had practiced some greetings for this moment, but his head was suddenly empty, so all he could do was stare back in silence. The man looked away and went to pay.

Three seconds - it had to mean something. Maybe he had recognized Pascal? Maybe he didn't? Maybe he thought Pascal was a creep and all his chances to approach him were ruined? All these thoughts filled his head as he went to pay, only after the mysterious man had left the store.

All he could do was sit in his car and go back home, hoping to make some progress next time.


"Pascal, we need to talk."

Vidcund's voice startled him, as he turned to see both of his younger brothers entering his room, looking at him with concern.

"Please, have a seat," Lazlo continued.

"I'm… already sitting Lazlo," the older brother pointed out, gesturing to his bed. Tycho, who was laying down next to him, laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling on his fingers.

"Right," Vidcund spoke, shooting an annoyed look in Lazlo's direction, "I think he meant to ask if you could come to sit with us? In the living room?" The younger brother simply nodded along.

"Why didn't you simply call me then?"

"Listen, put your child in his crib and come with us," Vidcund snapped, and he turned on his heels to go into the other room, Lazlo on his tail. Pascal shrugged at his son and did what his brother asked him to.

He followed them in the living room, sitting across them at their dining table. Vidcund was rubbing his hands, nervously, while Lazlo was looking ahead with an empty stare, and Pascal suddenly felt under scrutiny.

"We need to talk," Vidcund stated again.

"Yeah, you already said that."

"I know! It's just," Vidcund took his head in his hands, suddenly looking desperate, "We're going crazy! Both of us are going crazy with your weird behavior lately!" He gestured between him and Lazlo who snapped back from his reverie and nodded solemnly along.

"What weird behavior?" Pascal asked, puzzled, which earned him an incredulous look from Vidcund.

"The grocery trips," he only said, and Pascal felt his heart rate drop.

"I don't understand what you mean by that," he said defensively, crossing his arms and looking away, hoping his brothers wouldn't notice they had struck a nerve.

"Well," Lazlo spoke, using the same tone of voice he used with Tycho to get him to stop screaming when he was writing a research paper, "you have been there almost every day for the past month…" He reached across the table to grab one of Pascal's hands, holding it tight. "Did you become one of those shopping addicts? 'Cause we can help you if you need-"
"What? No!" Pascal shot back, quickly yanking his hand away, "I've been just… stocking up. In case something catastrophic happens and the government doesn't tell us…"

"Not again with those ridiculous theories, Pascal! Nothing's gonna happen," Vidcund intervened, looking at him deflated, "And you've been coming home with the most random stuff! The other day you brought back 5 packs of yogurt!"

"Well, it was on sale, I wanted to try it-"

"We're all lactose intolerant, Tycho included!" Vidcund screamed, exasperated, "And speaking of Tycho, what's with all that baby formula you keep buying? The storage room is filled with that!"

"Well, Tycho's growing so fast, he needs to eat a lot!" Pascal rebutted, hoping to sound convincing.

"He's an eight-month-old child who's growing at a normal rate for his age, if not too fast - he already weights like, four hundred pounds! Look," Vidcund was now looking at him dead in the eyes, "this has to stop someway. Between your weird spending habits, and Lazlo who keeps buying overpriced weed - and don't even try to say it's not true 'cause I saw Grunt's middle child on the porch the other day-" he said through gritted teeth, holding a hand in front of Lazlo's face, who had opened his mouth to rebut. He closed it again, defeated, "It's really taking a toll on our finances. Tell us what is going on, or we'll forbid you from going shopping again."

Pascal opened and closed his mouth again, outraged; getting grounded like some kid, by his younger brother even! But with Vidcund and Lazlo both staring at him, one stern, the other concerned, he could do nothing but spill it out. He sighed, preparing for the most awkward conversation of his life.

"So," he hesitated a little, gathering all his strength, "I met a guy."

The three of them stared at each other in silence, with Tycho's laughter and coos as the only sounds coming from the other room.

Then, Vidcund sputtered, "What?"

"Yeah, I… met this guy. At the store. Around a month ago."

"And?"

Pascal looked down, mortified.

"And you've been coming back again almost every day to see him?" Vidcund asked, incredulous. Lazlo was quietly laughing in his seat in the meantime. Watcher, this is so humiliating.

"I… yeah…" Pascal answered, wishing he had a more eloquent remark.
"Is he cute?" Lazlo asked, still snickering. Pascal shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant way.

"Yeah… I guess…" he stayed silent for a moment, pondering, then added, "He looks kinda like a Sim Burton character." This earned him a full outright laugh from Lazlo, while Vidcund shook his head, muttering "Can't believe… getting us on the brink of bankruptcy.. for a crush on some goth…"

"Did you talk to him?" Lazlo asked when he finally calmed down, and Pascal shook his head, blushing a bit.

"What? All this money wasted and you never even spoke to him!" Vidcund screamed, and Tycho started crying in the other room; Pascal quickly got up to get him out of the crib and brought him to the living room, gently rocking him to calm him down.

"How many times did you see him at the store?" Lazlo spoke again, looking interestedly.

"I guess… uhm… twice? Three times?" Pascal said, sitting down with Tycho on his legs.

"And do you know his name?"

"No…"

Lazlo nodded. "Damn… no name, no address, just a face. Maybe we could ask Chloe some help, she might ask some friends-"

"What am I, a teenager?" Pascal shot back, trying not to think about the way he acted around the store every time he saw that guy.

"Well, you have to do something!" Vidcund yelled, exasperated, "We can't keep going to the grocery store so often for a stupid crush!"

"It's not that easy, okay?!" Pascal shouted back, "I haven't felt like this way since when…"
His voice died in his throat, as the room fell silent again.

Vidcund gave a little cough. "Since when, Pascal?"

"Nothing," the other answered, trying to brush it off, but Vidcund wasn't known for letting things go easily.

"I asked since when."

"Look, Vidcund, I didn't mean to talk about-"

"I thought we agreed on never speaking about that again," Vidcund said, his jaw clenched. "I thought we agreed you'd never mention how yOU WANTED TO STEAL CIRCE FROM ME!"

"Vidcund, I'm so sorry!" Pascal tried to apologize, but Vidcund was still screaming at the top of his lungs; Lazlo quickly gestured to Pascal to go, mouthing to him 'Not cool, man'.

Pascal picked up Tycho and left for his room, hearing Lazlo's voice asking Vidcund to calm down in between his yelling, for the sake of his arteries clogged with cholesterol.

He closed the door behind him.


A week had passed from that talk before Pascal went back to the store. A week where he was forbidden to go buy anything that wasn't a real necessity; it took Vidcund three days to get over his meltdown and start talking to him again.

Lazlo had asked Chloe for some help anyway: he updated Pascal with every new finding she had, showing emails and jpegs attached, but even after scanning through the entire goth population of Strangetown (which consisted of roughly 90% of the residents), they didn't have any luck.

Finally, he had come to a resolution: he'd let go. There was no point in looking around for some random dude across town, he just had to live with the fact that he'd probably never see him again, and if he did, to just ignore him and go on with his life. It shouldn't be that hard, right? He made a shopping list, asked Lazlo to keep an eye on Tycho, and came to the store, without any expectations.

Of course, any good intention he had was forgotten once he saw a familiar figure standing in the produce section. The man was staring at the vegetables in front of him as if it was the first time he saw them. He picked up a zucchini, held it for a moment in front of his face, and put it down again, leaving the aisle without getting anything.

Pascal quickly started following him, his shopping list forgotten: every movement the other did, he was two steps behind, while furiously trying to think of some excuse to hit him up. Something about falling from Heaven? Calling him a thief for stealing his heart? Wanting to hug that slender frame and kiss those thin lips until he smiled-

He picked a few random items as he got in line right behind the guy, still trying to find something to say. Anxiety was eating him up, as he saw the other's items being scanned one by one, realizing there wasn't much time to act.

Before he knew it everything was bagged up, and the pale man paid. He then looked up and met Pascal's stare, giving him that same weird smile like the first time they met, and turned around, quickly leaving the store.

He watched him go, once again unable to say anything as the cashier started ringing up the stuff he dropped on the belt earlier.

Pascal then started to run.

He could hear the cashier calling for him to come back, but all he could think about was that small smile, so he ran out in the parking lot and yelled: "Hey! Wait!"

The man didn't seem to notice him, so Pascal ran faster, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm to make him turn around.

"Huh?" was the only thing the man said. "Can I help you?"

Pascal didn't know what to say; in fact, he didn't plan this whole thing out at all. For a moment they stood there in silence, the other looking at him puzzled; Pascal finally grabbed a small notepad from his bag and ripped out a page, scribbling his phone number on it. "Call me," he said, bluntly.

Another moment of silence.

"I don't have a phone," the stranger said, looking sorry.

"Oh," Pascal felt his face fall. "Not even a landline?"

"It's, well… it's complicated," the other answered, looking a bit ashamed. Maybe Pascal had gone too far, after all, thinking this guy could be interested in him after just seeing each other a couple of times at the store, and this was his way to politely decline his pathetic attempt at flirting. They stood in silence again, and Pascal was ready to go back home, apologize, ask him to forget about all this-

"We could-" the other spoke again, making Pascal jump, "we could meet again here. Tomorrow? I've seen you're often around." At that Pascal blushed, but nodded anyway.

"Yeah, yeah I'd like that… around this time?" he asked, and when the other nodded he smiled wide.

"Well," Pascal said, breaking the silence again, "See you tomorrow then!"

The guy simply nodded, walking away.

Walking back in the store and being yelled at for having blocked a register, Pascal didn't care: he finally got his date with… oh…

He forgot to ask his name.