Tw: mentioning of bodyshaming, abandonment issues.

The group were all gathered in Fresh's room. It was a comforting environment, it gave the impression of having taken a trip back in time to the eighties. Posters on the walls portrayed some artists who are still famous today and others who were now considered part of a distant past.

It was clear that the world of music dominated Fresh's life: the room was small but full of stereos, musical instruments, sheet music and music stands. Moreover, it seemed that the building itself had music etched into the walls: from one room came a cheerful tune played on a double bass, and on the walls of the dining room were antique violins and violas. As if to protect the building, an old saxophone towers over the entrance to the house.

It was also a room where paradoxes reigned: although it seemed as if a bomb had gone off in the room, there were some specific objects placed in a perfect order. One of these was the collection of semi-rare, limited-edition shoes put on display inside a glass cabinet. Another collection was treated with equal care: that of hair combs capable of taming Fresh's thick afro hair. The boy seemed obsessed with them to the point of opening the drawer containing the combs, putting a comb back in place by lightly touching it with his finger so that it was perfectly perpendicular to a nearby comb.

"Alright gang."

Fresh sat down next to his friends, who had gathered in a circle on the floor of his room.

"Let's recap. Yutani has found a turbine that probably belongs to some aliens. Jake is getting stalked by a creepy hacker. The inspector and his dog are gone." He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. "What do we do now?"

"We could do some brainstorming." Yutani suggested. "I need to see the whole situation clearly before making any decisions."

"I agree."

Fresh got up and started rummaging through his things, looking for a notebook. After a while, he decided on an old maths notebook with a few blank pages. He took a pen and turned the notebook horizontally, imitating a blackboard.

"That's all we know so far." The boy scribbled down some words with a hasty and bungled handwriting.

[Turbine: can float, magnetic, maybe alien.

Inspector: disappeared. Potential killer, potentially innocent?

Masked man: hacker. After Jake. Why? Is he after the turbine? Can apparently summon trains out of nowhere and make things float. Does he have a turbine too? Does he need our turbine?]

"In short, we really know little or nothing about the whole thing. You wrote more questions than statements." Tricky commented as she sighed deeply and frowned.

"I have another question. Should we share this with other people? I don't know, like the police?" Jake was sitting in an odd position, hugging his knees to keep his back straight.

"Hmm. I highly doubt that the police will believe us. We don't have any evidence, and besides, I'm afraid it would make the inspector look even worse in their eyes. They would think he is trying to include children in his crazy ravings." Yutani moved the hood of her costume backward so that her hair could get some air. Her buns made her look as if she had two little bear ears.

Blushing at his own thoughts, Jake couldn't help but notice how adorable she looked with her hair combed.

Fresh glanced at the door. "At the same time, if we do not ask anyone for help, the situation may get out of hand. Maybe we should talk to our parents about it?"

"Not to my mother." Tricky commented in a bitter tone. "It would be further confirmation that I am nothing but a shameful daughter to her. She would probably tell me to stop trying to get attention and grow up. Or she would get mad at me for being in trouble and a nuisance."

"I agree." Murmured King, who until then had not yet said anything. "My mom would call me a liar. She says I tell a lot of lies and that lies make you ugly. She says it's because of that and because of the food I keep on eating that I'm too fat."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Yutani looked at him in confusion.

"Yeah, what do you mean, lies make you fat?" Tricky was clearly sceptical, thinking that King was trying to draw attention to himself with another absurd story by sticking to what she had just said. Why did King always have to tell things that never happened just to get attention? Because such a story couldn't be true, could it?

"In the sense that she says I am fat precisely because I eat too much and tell too many lies. She says that it's a punishment my body gives me to let me know when I'm doing something wrong . She probably tells me this because she hopes I will eat less and be more honest." King looked embarrassed. He didn't really like talking about his family.

"King, I hope you understand that all this is absolutely wrong. In fact. You risk getting sick if you take this seriously." Yutani could not believe her ears. How could a mother say such a thing?

"I know." Mumbled King, but he didn't look too sure.

There was an awkward silence in the room, and it was King who was the first to break it.

"Besides, I don't want my dad to worry. His heart is sick. Auntie has told me many times not to stress him."

"I agree with you. My mum is worried enough about me without me telling her that I'm actually being hunted by some kind of serial killer."

Jake nodded with conviction, although he actually felt rather guilty. He had promised his mother that he would share his fears with her, that he would not hide anything from her. At the same time, he was determined not to involve her any further. "Besides, I don't want the killer to take it out on her too. We don't know what this guy is capable of."

"An alternative would be to contact the hacker directly. This should not be difficult since he is spying on us. I propose to tell him to stop harassing us or he will have consequences."

"I really don't think it's a good idea, Fresh. If he decided to hurt us, we would have no chances to defend ourselves." Tricky frowned. "I think instead we need to appease him. We need to reassure him by saying that we will not tell anyone about him and that we will give him the turbine if he wants it."

"I might try to build something like a robot to act as a bodyguard. I would need time, though." Yutani sighed. "It would be a shame to give away the turbine, but if it is to save our lives obviously it would be the best solution."

"What I don't understand-" Tricky paused for a moment. "What I really don't understand is why this guy is fixated on Jake. I think that's an important detail. Jake, are you sure you didn't piss him off in some way? What was he doing when you saw him?"

"Tricky, how would I know? I didn't even know this guy existed! I didn't do anything to him!" Jake bursted out, visibly frustrated. "How can this be my fault? When I first saw him, he was just walking away! And?"

"I didn't say it was your fault, calm the fuck down." Tricky replied, clearly annoyed. "Maybe this hacker is someone who knows you personally. Just saying."

"It's true that often the victims of violent crimes know their aggressor." Yutani agreed.

"And who could it be? I don't know any adult who could do such a thing!"

"Wasn't your father a computer scientist?" Fresh asked, but she regretted letting those words come out of his mouth even before he finished the sentence.

"Don't you ever DARE to mention my father again! Never again! How fucking DARE you insinuate such a thing?"

Jake stood up and walked over to Fresh menacingly. He clenched his fist, ready to hit him.

"I am sorry- I didn't mean-"

"Fuck you! You think you are better than me just because you have a perfect family? Fuck off!"

"Hey hey hey, let's just calm down, okay?" Tricky stood up and stepped between them. "Jake, please calm down and stop assuming things. Fresh, try to connect all your brain cells before speaking. Thanks."

Jake sat down again, but did not even look at Fresh. King and Yutani looked at each other, clearly worried.

"Okay. That's enough talking now. It's time to make a decision. Who agrees to call the police, raise your hand." Yutani asked with an unsure tone of voice.

King and Tricky raised their hand.

"Who agrees to tell our parents, raise your hand."

Fresh raised his hand.

"Who agrees to confront the hacker, raise your hand."

She raised her hand. Jake raised his.

"I just want to know what he wants. I don't want to involve anyone else in this." He simply stated.

"Alright. I suggest we sleep on it and vote again tomorrow morning. Perhaps the night will bring us advice." Tricky nodded slowly at her own statement, as if she wanted to convince her that it was the best option.

"You can all stay at my place if you want. My mom will call your parents if it's okay for you. I don't think that the hacker can intercept a private call. We also have extra toothbrushes."

They all agreed. That evening they camped out in Fresh's room with improvised mats and sleeping bags. The atmosphere was all too quiet: each of them could clearly feel the agitation of the others. Usually their sleepovers were rowdy and chaotic, full of laughter and energy.

That night they went straight to bed; no one felt like playing or joking. The only audible noise was Fresh's old fan doing its best to cool the sweltering muggy air of that scorching summer. It would be nice to open the window, but they would surely be attacked by the mosquitoes that were always ready to bite them when they least expected it.

"Jake..."

Fresh leaned out of the bed to give his friend a light touch as he was laying on the floor.

"Homie, are you sleeping?" He tried to whisper quietly enough not to wake the others, but at the same time to get his friend's attention. He hated arguing with him and felt terribly guilty about his insensitive remark a few hours earlier.

"No, I'm rehearsing for my funeral." Jake replied sarcastically, partly joking and partly obviously still annoyed with his friend. He did not turn toward Fresh.

"Look... I'm really sorry for what I said before. I really am. I was an insensitive jerk."

"Yes, you really were."

"You have every right to be angry with me. I want you to know, though, that I don't think I'm any better than you at all." He paused to take a deep breath. "This situation really agitates me and I'm scared, Jake. I really am. If something would happen to you I don't know what I would do. You are my best friend and I want to protect you. I know, have to think about what I say before I say it. But I just wanted to... help you, warn you, I don't know. It's a terrible situation and I feel so helpless." He nervously clutched the sheet in his hand. "I would kill that guy if I could."

A rustle signaled that Jake turned over on the mattress to face Fresh.

"..."

After a long silence, Jake finally replied. His voice sounded broken, almost as if he was crying or at least trying to hold back tears. "I am sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" Fresh felt genuinely surprised.

"... I don't know. For all this mess. I don't know what to do. I am terrified of that guy. I don't want to die. I don't want to leave my mom alone. I want to keep skating with you guys, to eat my favourite food, to design some new graffiti. To get scolded at school, to get bored during the history class. I want to fall in love and kiss a girl. I want to laugh, I want to cry and to get mad at your stupid ass. I want to become an artist one day. I want to spend all my summers with you guys. I want to get chased by the old fart and laugh at his stupid dog one more time. I don't know want all this to end." A sob. "I don't know what I did wrong to deserve this. I don't want you guys to get hurt. I didn't want to get the inspector in trouble. I wonder what happened to him and to his dog. I feel like shit honestly."

Another sob. Even in the darkness of the room Fresh could see Jake's silhouette trembling.

"I miss my dad. I miss him so much. Maybe he would know what to do. But he doesn't give a fuck about me. Mom says that he loves me but he never comes to visit me. He never calls. He found another woman and now I don't exist anymore. He abandoned me. And yet, I still miss him. I hate myself for this. I am such a pussy. Fuck this shit." In his voice one could detect all his anger and despair.

More rustling came from the rest of the beds. The others were clearly listening to what Jake and Fresh had just said to each other. Slowly, Fresh and the others approached Jake and welcomed him into a group hug. The boy burst into a desperate cry and clung shakily to his friends, like a castaway in a storm about to drown.

"You are not alone..."

"We are here for you."

Despite the heat, they all huddled together for what seemed like an eternity. None of them wanted to let go; they all felt safe and secure with each other. They felt as if their hearts were one.

Slowly, their inner anguish slipped from their minds, and their bodies, exhausted by worry and fatigue, finally fell asleep, sinking to the ground next to each other.

At last, peace seemed to have returned.

But it was only an illusion, a moment of calm before the storm.