Chapter One


Trigger Warnings For This Chapter: Cursing, Gun Violence, Violence, Blood, and Mental Illness Traits.


"One day, the world will look to me for mercy." The name, Debby Lane, shone particularly bright on its plastic name tag today. The woman it was attached to lacked such a quality. Her face was tired and stern. Overworked and underpaid. She closed the notebook from which she had read and folded her hands together on top of it. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Brain?" Her voice suggested forlornness. She knew there wasn't a point in asking questions, but she put the effort in any way, albeit minimally. Her brown eyes dared to look up into the strange, pink eyes of her most troubled client.

The short, chubby man blew out a long drag of smoke. "Nothing yet, I suppose. It'll matter when I take over the world, though. Don't worry. I wanna make it a better place."

"You wanna take over the world?" She handed over the journal to its owner. "Why do you wanna do that?" The image of the irascible man ruling over was almost funny. It would have been if she wasn't so stressed or if her client was joking. He never joked, though.

He tucked the journal into his jacket. "I'm certain I've told you before." He crossed his arms. Typical. Even this social worker assigned to him didn't listen, and she was getting paid to do so. If it wasn't for the medication he needed her to sign off on, he would have stopped coming a long time ago.

The woman shrugged and sighed. When you had over thirty people assigned to you, it was hard to remember every little thing. She didn't expect him to know this, though. "Does it help? Coming here to see me?"

He ignored the question and asked one of his own. "Are you able to increase the dosage on my bupropion?"

She glanced down at her desk and scanned his medication profile. An eyebrow was raised. "You're on five medications. None of them are helping enough?" He had been prescribed antidepressants, antipsychotics, and a sleeping medicine.

"Is that a yes or a no?" Obviously, if they were doing enough, he wouldn't be asking. Being questioned constantly was so annoying. All he wanted was to feel fine. And, of course, the world.

"I'll suggest they increase it. There's no guarantee they'll allow it, though." Debby had heard talk of this faction being shut down soon. If that was the case, she doubted anyone would be interested in any paperwork from people in her position. Mental health was a low priority in this city, which she found odd considering she knew of no other town that needed this kind of help the most.

Brain huffed just seconds before a timer went off. He got up and dusted the non-existent dust from his black slacks. "Time's up. I'm leaving."

As he closed the door to the cramped office behind him, he heard the woman remind him to show up next week. As if he would forget something that's been routine for him for the past year. He rolled his eyes and ascended the stairs, heading for the main doors. At the top, he caught his breath and then prepared himself for the cold air of Fall. He buttoned up his jacket and placed his hands in his pocket. The half-mile trek to the more populated area of downtown was made, and he stuck his thumb out, waiting for a taxi to take him to the train station.

While he waited, he took note of the people around him. They all moved so fast and vigorously. The people of this town were angry, just like him. Trash lined the city streets, and homelessness was at an all-time high. "Oof!" He steadied himself before he fell onto the ground. He turned to bark at whoever had shoved past him, but they were already gone. "Mongrel."

A taxi pulled up by him, nearly edging up onto the curb. Brain shut the door and disclosed his destination. When he looked up, he could see the eyes of the driver looking at him through the rearview mirror. It looked like they had considered saying something but stopped upon seeing Brain's harsh gaze.

As he was driven to the train station, he looked out the window and took in more details of the city. Absolutely filthy. A few people walking along vaguely piqued his interest here and there, but then something grabbed all of it. A tall man in a clown suit, hopping around like a buffoon with a sign. The man even had on clown make-up. Brain was relieved to not be in such a position. The poor bastard probably was doing all he could to make ends meet.

The clown man spun around, and Brain's eyes landed on his. It was bizarre how time slowed down. Brain saw the blue eyes of the man shine brightly. Then there was his smile. Not a forced 'I have to act like a dumb clown' smile either. It was genuine. Soon though, time caught back up, and the man became a blur with the rest of the scenery. Brain sat back down, not realizing he had lifted out of his seat. It had been a long time since Brain had seen a happy face in Hamington.

Even once on the train, Brain couldn't stop thinking about it. That goofy smile. He suddenly felt eyes on him, and he looked up to see half the train cart staring at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and focused on his reflection in his shoes. He must have been mumbling out loud again. It was an embarrassing oddity of his that he was working on fixing. Then he blushed. Oh god. I was probably grumbling about the idiot in the clown suit. How mortifying.

His stop was next, and he gladly got off. The pharmacy was still a few blocks away, but it was on the way to his apartment. He walked in, and the familiar ding of the bell above the door echoed. While making his way to the counter in the back, Brain eyed the shelves of the building. He might as well pick up some ibuprofen while he was here.

There was one bottle left, thank goodness. However, as he was about to snatch it up, another hand swooped in and stole the opportunity. Brain whooshed around, practically steaming with rage. "Give that to me at once!" A man, equally chubby but not nearly as short, flipped him off and attempted to walk away. That wasn't going to slide, though. Brain latched onto his arm and kicked the guy in the shin.

"Ow! Fucker!" The other man had become furious and clenched his fists, acting as though he may throw one Brain's way. Brain lifted his coat above his belt, and the man froze and backed away. "Fine! Geez! Take it!" He stomped out of the store, defeated.

Brain smirked and took a second to admire the polished silver on his gun. Brain lived in this town long enough to know how to stand his ground. He didn't necessarily like relying on the weapon, but he needed that ibuprofen. He approached the counter and handed over his prescription tickets and the ibuprofen.

The person at the counter was new, as Brain had never seen her before. Her eyes widened at the number of tickets handed to her. "Woah. You're really sick in the head, aren't ya, mister?"

Brain drummed his fingers impatiently. "How about not worrying about the number of tickets, and instead, just do your job…." Pink eyes squinted at the cursive name etched onto her white jacket…." Billie."

"Yeah, yeah, whateva'." She disappeared inside the rows of cabinets on her side and reappeared with five bottles. "You got an insurance card?" Brain handed her his card. She entered some information on a computer and began scanning the bottles and putting them in little, wasteful plastic bags. "Mmkay. That's gonna be twenty dolla's."

Brain's eyes went wide. Twenty?! "Just two weeks ago, I paid only ten! How could the price have gone up so much?! You must have typed something incorrectly! The ibuprofen was only two bucks!" He had the money on him but was very reluctant about handing it over.

The lady popped some bubblegum in her mouth and put her hands on her hips. "Ima' have to give this spiel to everyone, I swear. The prices have gone up on nearly everything. I didn't put anything in wrong. Everyone is having to pay more."

Brain gulped and pulled out his wallet. The twenty he in there was the only bill he had. It was handed over, and he grabbed his baggies.

"Bye, mister." She waved him off and became randomly interested in the state of her nails.

Twenty dollars?! Twenty? He was going to have to cut back on… he looked at the cigarette he had absentmindedly pulled out… groceries or something. He lit the cigarette, and the nicotine eased his irritability. The walk to his apartment was usually alright. Not too many people were out and about in this area, so he was hardly ever bothered. It was also cleaner in this area. Only a few piles of trash bags here and there.

He trudged up the long flight of concrete stairs and pushed open the door to his building. His mailbox was empty, as it usually was, and he ascended a few floors in the elevator. There was a woman and her child who were in there first, and they had backed up into a corner of the elevator to avoid the cross-looking man.

He switched on the light to his apartment and took off his coat. The bulbs flickered at first before staying on, illuminating the room in a dull, yellow tint.

A microwaved meal of "meatloaf" was heated up, and Brain sighed a breath of relief as he slid down into a tan loveseat. He propped his feet up on the low coffee table and switched on his television. An older gentleman with a comb-over and a blue suit was presented on the screen. "I'm only ten minutes late, Murphy. What do you have for us today?"

It turned out that the man named Murphy had quite a lot lined up for tonight's program. There was music, jokes, and he even let audience members voice concerns about the city. The man was at the desk on stage, and the camera panned over to him. "Alright, you guys. We know elections for town mayor are coming up soon. Let me tell you about a man whose running. This man has plans for us, ladies and gentlemen. He wants to clean up our streets, reduce crime, and get the homeless off the streets. His name is Cornelius Snowball!" An image of an older man was put on a screen next to Murphy's desk. He had empty, grey eyes and a conniving smile. "Get this. You can just call him Snowball! What a guy!"

Brian dropped his fork and nearly choked on his food. "Snowball?!" Cornelius was a co-worker of Brain's. They worked at a lesser-known temp agency called A.C.M.E. The pay wasn't great, but it was enough. Brain worked on the first floor, where filing was usually done. There was a lot of paperwork. Snowball worked on the fifth floor, where managers and bosses kissed each other's asses and relaxed.

Brain furiously turned off the TV as he heard the live crowd cheer. Snowball was the most manipulative person he'd ever met. He was cunning, crude, and downright treacherous. Brain would have been the one on that fifth floor if Snowball, who he considered a friend at the time, didn't lie and steal the opportunity from Brain.

Brain hit the cushion next to him and went to angrily toss his meal in the fridge. He wasn't hungry anymore. "There's no way he'd make the town better! He's a snake! A wolf in sheep's clothing! He's manipulating people of the likes of Murphy, for goodness sake!" Snowball was already unbearable as a manager. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if he were mayor.

Brain stopped pacing and took in a deep breath. What did I do with that ibuprofen? He picked up his baggies and searched their contents, but no headache relief was inside any of them. Only his usual medication. "What?! But I know I- Aha!" There was a baggie on the floor he hadn't picked up. He crammed his hand inside, and his body froze as two of his fingers slipped through something. He looked down in horror at the hole in the bag. "Of course."

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The next morning, Brain awoke to the thin strips of light that pushed their ways through the city smog. He looked at his alarm clock and groaned. There wasn't any use in trying to fall back asleep. There were only five more minutes before the alarm was going to ring.

His morning routine lulled by with drabness. Shower, black slacks, plaid shirt, jacket, gun, wallet, shined shoes, coffee, and a bagel. Locked door, no mail, boring walk, bus, then the train.

The train was packed, but there was one empty seat near the back. He leaned his head up against the window. He wasn't unique in that he hated Mondays, but his hatred was perhaps a bit higher than most. Especially today. He was going to have to face Snowball at least once, and he wasn't looking forward to it. It was going to be hard not to punch him in the face. Running for mayor to better the city, yeah, right.

He felt a weight being added to his seat and got a view of the person sitting next to him. A large woman with a purse to match. Brain had to keep from gagging as the scent of her overwhelming perfume wafted over into his nose. He looked out the window as they passed a grey, graffitied wall. There was still quite a bit to go before his stop.

Once at his stop, Brain practically launched off the train and out to the streets. She smelled worse than the garbage on the side of the roads.

He marched along the sidewalk, grumbling and cursing under his breath as people bumped into him. It was especially annoying when one was as short as he was.

"I hope you have a lovely day!" A cockney accent tickled Brain's ears. The voice held no malice or anger. It was soft and awkward but sweet and kind. Brain looked over across the street. It was the clown man from yesterday.

"Oh, can it!" A man shoved past him and flipped the tall man off. Brain would've expected him to say something mean back. Or even to threaten empty violence. But instead, the clown man waved and smiled. That smile.

The tall man was dressed as a clown once again and held the same sign from yesterday. 'Everything Must Go! Cheap Furniture at Ben's Furniture Store!' The sign was spun around and thrown into the air before being caught. The tall man giggled and then looked over.

Brain could feel his face heat up at being caught staring. The worst part was he couldn't stop. Those blue eyes were so… weirdly enticing. Then the man smiled and waved.

Brain shook his head and rushed off. There was a donut shop a few blocks down that he planned to purchase from. He had brought along a dollar bill so he could have a couple of long-johns to munch on at work.

When he reached the shop, he went to pull out his wallet before entering the building. His eyes shut in frustration when his fingers were met only with the touch of seamed fabric. His pocket was empty. But he was sure he had brought it with him. Actually, he was absolutely certain… which meant that it must have fallen out somewhere. "Fuck!" A wallet laying around in this city was as good as gone. His I.D, insurance card, and dollar bill were never going to be seen again.

...

"Excuse me! Mistah!"

Brain opened his eyes to see the blue-eyed man from before running towards him, waving something in his hand. … It was his wallet!

The taller man stopped just short of crashing into Brain. He held out the wallet and smiled. "Sorry to bother you, but I noticed you dropped this. Narf! Don't wanna lose that do ya?!"

Brain's mouth hung open. Who was this guy? His smile was pure, his eyes were enchanting, a voice like honey, he ran blocks down from his post to return Brain's wallet and…. "Narf? What's that?"

The taller man handed Brain his wallet and waved a flamboyant hand. "Oh, it's just something that slips outta' me. Poit."

Brain checked inside his wallet and was relieved to see that everything was still in there. "I see." He assumed 'poit' was something that also just 'slipped out.' "Um, thank you. For returning this to me. You could have very easily stolen it." It felt weird to say those words. 'Thank you.' He doesn't remember the last time he's ever felt a need to say that to someone.

"I would never steal a wallet! That would be mean.'

Brain was going to say something in return, but the chime from a church bell stopped him. He needed to get his donuts and get a move on. "I apologize, but I must hurry." Brain pushed the door to the donut shop open, and before it closed behind him…

... "Alrighty! Have a nice day, sir! You have pretty eyes!"

Brain turned around, but the door had shut. He peeked out the window, but the man was already gone. His chest felt tight, and his face felt hot. I have … pretty eyes? No one ever gave him compliments. Especially not about his eyes. Most people thought the pink color was strange. He felt a moment that perhaps the man was being sarcastic… but he wasn't. Brain could just tell.

"Are ya havin' the usual, Brain?" A groggy, low voice brought Brain out of his thoughts. He looked up at the tired woman and nodded his head.

"Yes. … Please."

...

He exited the shop with his donuts and started walking towards his work. But then he heard shouting from an ally down the road.

"Please stop! I need that sign, or I'll get in trouble!" It was that cockney accent.

"Guess you shouldn't have put it down then, huh!?" A sadistically masculine voice shouted back.

Then odd noises were being made. Brain heard a *crack* and some dull short…knocks? And laughing. It sounded like at least three people laughing. And then he heard crying.

"Kick him in the gut!"

"And get his back good, too!"

The tall man lay on his side in a fetal position while covering his head. He cried and moaned in pain as the relentless kicking continued.

"Hey! You punks! Stop this instant" Brain's tone was that of approaching peril.

The kicking stopped, and the group of four teenage boys looked at the shorter man.

A boy with dark hair and a black jacket spoke to Brain. "Or what, old man?"

Brain didn't bother being coy about his gun and grabbed and aimed. "Leave. Now."

The boys looked at each other worriedly before taking off as fast as they could down the ally.

Brain rushed over to the clown man and knelt down. "Good heavens, are you okay?!" Brain helped the man into a sitting position and felt his heartbeat pick up when he saw the blood dripping out of the other's mouth and nose. "Oh goodness. You need medical attention." Brain was going to help the man onto his feet but was halted.

The man coughed. "N-no. I'm fine. Really. Plus, I can't really afford to go to the hospital right now. Troz!"

Brain hesitated but listened. Some would genuinely prefer to deal with pain rather than an agonizingly high hospital bill. Plus, he figured a clown probably didn't have much in terms of money. He thought a moment before an idea came to mind. "Allow me to take you back to my place then. I have a few supplies there that could help patch you up." He'd have to call in today, which wasn't favorable. He had all six sick days left, but that meant he wouldn't get his yearly bonus.

"You'd do that? For me?" The man sounded astonished and grateful. "I mean, I am allowed to be done for the day… I don't necessarily need to check-in." He didn't get paid hourly. He just got paid a set amount per gig. He was nervous, though. He didn't have a sign to return to the furniture store.

"Okay. Then to my place, it is." Brain helped him to his feet and led him down the sidewalk. Brain almost couldn't believe what he was doing. He was taking a day off of work, ruining his yearly bonus, and allowing a complete stranger to go home with him.

"Oh, Woah. Poit. Your eyes are even prettier up close. And I just simply love your shoes! I've never seen shoes so shiny!"

Brain knew what he was doing. He was helping the only kindhearted person he'd ever met in his life. Something in him wanted to preserve that. This man had light in him, and it was a rare beauty. "Well, uh… thank you. That's very kind of you to say. I've never really gotten compliments before."

The taller man gasped in shock. "That's insane! You're such a nice-looking gentleman! And you're so kind!"

As they neared the train station, Brain realized something. "Excuse me, but I don't think we've exchanged names. I'm Brain. I know, I know. Odd name."

"Narf! I think it's a lovely name, Brain! You seem like a smarty, so it actually quite suits you, don't you think?"

Brain was going to collapse under the weight of all these compliments. "I uh, suppose." He was actually quite intelligent. "Not to toot my own horn, but yes. I am an intellectual." His eyes met the pretty blue ones yet again. "What's your name?"

"Pinky!" He said it proudly and loudly. Then he grimaced. Shouting hurt right now.

Brain frowned at the grimace but continued the conversation as they docked the train. "Pinky, huh?" They sat down.

"Yup. Like my finger." Pinky wagged his finer.

Brain looked out the window really quickly for no particular reason, but when he turned his head back, his breath caught in his throat. Pinky had removed his ridiculous hat and had smudged off a good portion of his face paint and blood with his sleeve. His hair was gorgeous and healthy… and pink! But… it looked stunning. And his face… Good heavens. He had some lucky genetics.

Pinky noticed the staring. "Oh. Do I have something on my face, Brain?" He started wiping away at his face again.

Brain shook his head and babbled. "No! No, it's just… nothing. Sorry for staring. I have never seen someone boldly sporting pink hair before." It wasn't a total lie.

Pinky put his hands together and beamed. "Do ya like it? I thought it was a splendid color!"

Brain stuttered a moment before speaking clearly. "Why, yes. It's very nice."

"Hey, Brain."

Now Brain was the one being subjected to staring. Pinky's blue eyes twinkled as he looked at Brain. Good gracious. "Yes, Pinky?"

"You're smile is beautiful."

Brain's eyes widened, and he turned to see his reflection in the glass of the window. He…he was smiling. When did that happen? Brian couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. This man. What is he doing to me? "Thank you. I admire your smile as well."