Lync: Dreamflight, can I go hide under your bed for a few hours?

Dream: Can you fit under there?

Volt: More than likely. What you should be asking is why.

Dream: But I already know why.

Shadow: What? I'm lost.

Yumeí: *whispering*No surprise there.

Mylene: Lync's suffering from post-traumatic stress.

Shadow: About what?

Yumeí: I think we're about to find out.

Lync slowly walked to doors that led to his mother's at-home office. She was working, but he really needed to talk with her. He was wrestling with the indecision when he heard his name from behind the door. Pressing his ear to the crack at the door, he listened as hard as he could. It sounded like his mother was talking to one of her friends.

"I finally have the child I always wanted," she was saying. "Elrin is smart, beautiful, witty-oh, I just can't stop adoring her!"

"What about your son?" Her friend asked.

"Lync?" His mother laughed. "He's such a dull child, all he can do is study. If you just look at him you can tell he has no individuality."

Lync felt a ball of shock explode inside him. His own mother had just said that. His mother had just called him dull, stupid, and monotonous while only saying one of those words in her conversation. He couldn't bear it any more; he pushed open the door.

His mother said to her friend, "I'll call you back later," hastily and turned to face him, smiling.

"Hello Lync," she said. "Is there something you wanted to ask me? You seem to need an answer."

"Just one," Lync said, all feeling gone from his voice. "Why did you say that?" His mother's smile faded as she watched him almost curiously. "Am I really that...dull? A dull child?"

"You make it sound like it's my fault," she answered. "Humph. Well, maybe it is my fault that you turned out like this."

Lync couldn't bear to hear anymore; he turned and ran. Down the stairs, out the door, and kept going. He was blind with shock and did not know where he was going, just that he needed to get away. Away from the ones who had piled their ambitions on him, then had cast him aside the minute they had a better asset.

Only when his legs collapsed, and he fell, scraping the heels of his hands on the rough ground did he stop. He gasped for breath and began to cry at the same time. He was hurting, both inside and out.

He looked up and saw several stacked boxes in perfect form to his side. The exactness of the boxes scared him. They reminded him of the demands to be perfect. He ran to the tower of boxes and toppled them, sheets of paper flying out of them, making pandemonium. Every sign of order he could see, he destroyed, sobbing.

When all the perfection in the immediate area was demolished, Lync fell to his knees, exhausted; he sat there panting.

Footsteps came up behind him, and Lync looked wildly around until he saw a kid a few years older than him. The kid was wild looking, bright silver hair standing nearly on end, red eyes bloodshot, clothes torn, barefoot, and covered in bruises. A slum kid. Probably in the Gangs.

"What are you doing here?" the strange boy asked, his head cocking to one side. Lync just stared at him.

"Let me guess," the kid said, straightening up and closing his eyes. "you ran away?" Lync nodded. The slum kid sighed.

"The slums aren't the place where your kind should go. You better go back."

Lync didn't like the way this kid talked to him. The way he said "your kind" made Lync angry. The slum kid saw the fiery look and took it as disagreement, and shrugged in defeat.

"I got a place where you can sleep for tonight. But you gotta go back tomorrow, otherwise there are gonna be hard questions you don't want to answer."

The slum kid turned and walked away. Lync trailed after him.

They wove through the decrypt buildings, going deeper into the slums than Lync would have ever gone before. He stared at the state of living in open wonder. Finally the slum kid led him to a half collapsed building and slid in through a small opening. Lync followed and found a small domed room with a bag laying at one end.

The slum kid walked past Lync, saying as he did so: "Don't mess this place up, or I will hurt you."

Lync laid down on the rough ground and stared up at the metal support beams that crisscrossed the makeshift roof. He felt so upset, angry, and yet relieved. Angry and upset because of his parents, but relieved to finally know the truth, that he now knew where he stood.

Now the only question was how to get back at them...

Yumeí: This officially makes a pattern.

Shadow: Yep.

Dream: I'm good at writing Dramas. :3

Mylene: And speaking of this particular drama...

Dream: Right. This was based off Machi Kuragi's breakdown from Fruits Basket.

Lync: (Do I even have to say it ?) Review Please.