Lost In Purple

Chapter 83: Lacking Energy

Melanie's POV

"Start from the beginning," Professor King instructs while keeping a close eye on all the other scarers in the Scare Floor.

Johnny repositions the cool washcloths laid upon his head and neck and then sighs.

"Melanie and I were up late talking. I didn't know that today would be her first day, so I got really excited, and at one point she fell asleep. I hung up and tried to go to sleep too, but I was too excited to see her today. I ended up only getting around four hours of sleep and somehow slept through my first alarm. When I did wake up, I ran out the door and sped the whole way here… but I arrived five minutes before our shift started. I then randomly get a call from my father saying he wanted to see me in his office… so yeah, blame him for making me late," Johnny explains.

There's five seconds of silence before Professor King rolls his eyes. "…So are you going to tell us why he had you in his office for nearly three hours and what it was he spoke to you about?"

"Grrrr… He wanted to discuss Melanie's father. He's unsure of his qualifications for a Scaring position and he's skeptical about his quote on quote 'use' to the company. I spent about an hour defending his, mentioning how long he's worked in the Scaring industry and that he has his own academic achievements. But to him, that didn't matter; All kept trying to deny his worth to the company because he hasn't actually scared anything for nearly two decades. He asked me if that was because he was lazy or insecure or if it was because he was a coward," Johnny divulges.

"Ok so…this is confusing," Professor King states, "You fought with him all morning because he wants to decide for himself who is and isn't capable of being employed here while trying to get information on Ronan and his character?"

"YES!" He shouts, "AND THERE'S NO WAY TO REASON WITH HIM! Everything must go his way or else! It's the reason why I wanted to get away from him before college! If I didn't become exactly who he wanted, then I'm just some untrustworthy vagrant that wouldn't have deserved his attention."

Professor King brings his arms up over his head and just deflates painfully. "God damn it. Why do you Worthington's make everything unbearably difficult?"

"I'm not making anything difficult! It's all him, it always has been!" Johnny counters while clawing at his head, "It's because of him that I'm the way I am after all!"

I pull his hands away from his skull and realize that the scarers next to our station are distracted and listening to Johnny's endless frustration. I keep myself from crumbling under embarrassment and rub Johnny's scalp in a meek attempt to calm him down a little bit.

"Jonathan, there are very prominent issues that you bring all of us, but yes, I will agree that most of them are stemming from a strikingly obvious abusive relationship you've had with your father. If you are to continue being a scarer, then I suggest seeking family therapy at this point. I can help here and there, but because I'm the COO here now, I cannot help you indefinitely," Professor King sighs.

Johnny growls after turning to glare down the Professor. "He's not going to listen though; He'll just wipe it off his shoul-"

"Shush! This is not a problem that I can just magically fix, Worthington. You MUST address this with him by either talking it through or cutting him out of your life by finding work outside of Fear Company. There's obviously some content that the both of you are misunderstanding, he's continuing to use an authoritarian position with you, and he's obviously not letting your family experience any sort of vulnerability. The developmental trauma your family possesses is showing and it's not only affecting your job, but others' as well…SO FIX IT." Professor King berates with worry.

Luckily only the few monsters at the station next to us were listening in on us, not the entire scare floor. Monsters many stations over to the left and right of us are working tirelessly and unaware of what just happened, but it's still embarrassing to see a couple of them speechlessly looking at Johnny and I. I sadly agree with the Professor too. The relationship that Johnny has with his dad needs to be mended, otherwise everyone's going to suffer.

"So, I'm going to go give Ronan a call now and basically lie to him about not being able to give him yet another try-out. I'm also going to go talk with your father about this. What you're going to do is go home and rest. You've contracted a psychogenic fever, so it's nothing serious, but that needs to be dealt with before anything else. You and Melanie are not to return to work until Monday next week," Professor King directs.

"W-wait, what will I do then, Professor? I won't have an assistant if Melanie's gone," Chip worries.

"I'll be your assistant until she and Johnny return," The Professor answers, "Unlike every other time, this wasn't your fault."

Within a blink of an eye, Professor King stomps towards the entrance of the Scare Floor to help some of the Scaring Assistants transfer some scream canisters. Everyone except Chip returns to working the end of their shift as there seems to only be fifteen more minutes before lunch. It's like nothing ever happened, but Chip and I are the only ones to have broken out of the samsara.

Johnny looks to be done with life. His head is being held up by his arms, making it look like he's just bawled for the last half an hour and has exhausted himself.

"John?" I ask quietly.

"Hmm?" He groans.

"Is there any way for me to help you? I don't want to have to worry about you all week," I ask.

Johnny inhales slowly and then exhales intensely before sitting up straight. He stares at the space in front of him before rising to a standing position. His hand grabs mine and he squeezes it gently as he pulls me down the Scare Floor.

"Could you come home with me?" He questions.

I fall behind a little bit but catch up to him after slightly picking up the pace. "Oh…um…I don't think th-that it's the best time. You and your family are v-very busy a-and I would be intruding and…my parents would like to see me after all th-."

"No I'm not talking about my home, I'm talking about your home," Johnny interrupts.

"…O-Oh…I mean y-you can if you'd… like," I stutter in response.

I see a slight smile appear on his face which makes me feel like I made the right choice. I then turn around and give Chip a wave which he reciprocates. He looks confused and upset at the same time which I understand. Everything spiraled into mayhem within a few short minutes and now Johnny and I are leaving early for a slight vacation. Lovely how that works…I work for half a shift and now I've been instructed not to return for a whole week.

Johnny was alright with driving me back home. He seemed a little slower than what I'm used to from him, but there wasn't a point where I felt like I was in danger. I never feel like I'm in danger around him though, so I shouldn't have been doubting him anyways. He was dead silent the whole way back and never really told me what was going to happen when we entered Cormeadow and drove up to my parents' house. Doing so only makes me wonder if he's been stuck at his parents' house too. I'm guessing that he's been there ever since he graduated from college, which is slightly concerning. He's had ongoing issues with his Dad and once again can't truly escape him since he's living under his household.

Once he puts the car into park after pulling up against the curb, he stomps out and struts over to the passenger side to open the door. He helps me out by offering his strong right hand. Without a word, he pulls me up to the front door and apologizes.

"I'm sorry, Mel. I wasn't expecting to ruin your first day either," Johnny growls.

I put my hand over his forehead again and still feel the overwhelming heat emanating from beneath his fluffy fur. His eyes close and he exhales in a way that sounds like he's giving up. I don't mean that in the context of life, but in the context of getting back in his car and driving home.

"Come inside and rest for a little while. I don't think you'll make it back home alive if you keep going," I state while taking my hand away.

Johnny's eyes shoot open, and he follows that up with an exhausted chuckle. "Oh, n-no. I'll be fine. Nothing could bring down your favorite scarer that easily."

I grab his right arm and pull him closer to the door. I take out my house key from my pants pocket and jam it in. Once the door opens, I holler, "I'm home! Johnny's using the couch for a little while!"

Like always, I didn't need to scream that, but I did it anyways. My mom was in the kitchen and my dad was right next to her, so they would have heard me no matter what. I try to pull Johnny towards the couch, but alas, my strength is comparable to a guinea pig…non-existent. Johnny's an immovable object and I'm the little kid trying to lift a literal two-ton boulder.

"Wait wait wait, what's going on? Why did everything go wrong this morning?" Mom asks while stirring something in a large pot.

I continue trying to tear off Johnny's arm, but he puts a halt to my attempts by pulling me back, twirling me around and pulling me against his fluffy body.

"Can you calm down? It's seriously not that bad," Johnny pouts.

"Uuuuuuh, what's not bad?" Dad asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Johnny has a fever," I answer. I honestly sounded like a kid that was completely fed up with their annoying sibling. I think Johnny thought that too because I hear him stifle a weak laugh.

"HE HAS A FEVER?!" Mom shouts after dropping her wooden spoon into the pot, "AND HE DROVE ALL THAT WAY FEELING LIKE THAT?! NO NO NO NO NO BRING HIM TO THE COUCH!"

She aggressively points at the couch while stomping on the linoleum floor. That's what I've been trying to do this whole time, MMMOTHER!

"You seriously don't have to worry about me," Johnny chimes in with a fake smile.

Mom walks behind Johnny, takes a singular step back, and then slams her body into his back. He has to grasp ahold my body and lift me off the floor to make sure he doesn't trample me when he lunges towards the couch. "YOU LAY DOWN THIS INSTANT!" Mom howls.

My mom smashes herself into him three more times before he succumbs to the pressure of her worrisome intensity. He finds himself towering over the rickety couch, turns around and plummets onto it as if he's an old house pet ready for a midday nap. When his giant body makes contact with the padding, I land on top of him and the couch groans, but nothing else happens which is lucky.

"Off!" Mom shouts as she places her hands on my shoulder.

I wasn't expecting to lay on top of him anyways, MMMOTHER!

I look at Johnny and looks at me. Both of us understand the situation, but we both don't want to let each other go. I don't know how much he doesn't want to do that but since this is the first time I've been given the chance to spend actual time with him, I'm seething. Oh wow… am I really that touch starved?

My paws touch the ground, and I lift my skinny bones into the sky so I can give Johnny space…and my mom immediately takes over that space. A thin blanket gets gracefully draped over Johnny's body and she tucks the ends of the blanket under his body before returning to the kitchen to scavenge the cabinets. It wouldn't be wrong to say that Johnny has started his miraculous journey into metamorphosis at this point.

"Sorry son, as you know, being sick around here is a serious thing," Dad proclaims.

"Shush!" Mom hisses, "He needs to rest, NOT talk!"

The ancient thermometer that my mom used on dad and I these many years finds its way onto the kitchen countertop as well as a couple of dry towels. I think putting cold towels on Johnny's head will help but we already know that Johnny has a fever, so why do we need the thermometer.

"Mom, Professor King already took his temperature and everything…" I mumble.

"SHUSH! I'M WORKIN' HERE!" She responds antagonistically.

Mom then turns the kitchen sink on and drenches the towels in ice cold water. Within a flash, she's passing the towels to me and places the thermometer into his mouth. I guess mom and I are going to be nurses for the rest of the night.

"Comfortable?" Mom asks.

Johnny's face screams uncertainty. He has no idea what just happened, why it happened, or what to do now. His eyes shoot over to me and then back at my mom as the thin blanket barely contains his massive figure, leaving his legs over the arms of the couch and out in the open. He also repositions the thermometer in his mouth so that it doesn't fall out and cause my mom to go into a frenzy. He must have never had someone treat him like this when he was sick. Those expectations he was required to follow probably made him brush any sickness off as if it was a slight cough. I don't blame him; His father gets mad at him for everything.

"Yeah…but I think it could be more comfortable," He answers before looking to me.

His arm breaks free from the fabric shackles and grabs ahold of me. He then pulls me back down on top of him and follows it up by draping what's left on the blanket on top of me.

"There we go. I'm good now, don't worry about me," Johnny says before leaning his head back on the arm of the couch and closing his eyes.

So, like, I don't know if my parents have ever had a moment in their life where they refused to move because they didn't want to disturb the sleep of a pet, but this is what I'm experiencing. If I move a single muscle, Johnny's going to miraculously sense the change in pressure placed upon his body, think that I've died, open his eyelids faster than a fly changes directions mid-flight, and become an emotional disaster that's more intense than a 9.0 magnitude earthquake. SEND HELP! IT'S BEEN FOUR HOURS SINCE HE FELL ASLEEP AND I CAN FEEL MY NERVES BECOMING SHOT!

"You know, I'm surprised he doesn't snore," Mom says while making yet another meal for us, "Big guys like him usually snore."

"Really? I thought it would be obvious that he doesn't snore. He's the monster world's most promising scarer and grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. He's walking perfection at its finest," Dad states while reading the most recent newspaper.

"Mom, dad, please. I'm trying to concentrate," I add with a whisper.

The newspaper crumples as dad lowers it to look at me with slightly narrowed eyes and I nearly have a heart attack. I brace for impact by closing my eyes, but nothing happens. Even though the coast is clear, I subconsciously keep myself from breathing.

"It's alright if he wakes up, Moondrop," Dad lightly chuckles.

I wheeze a little when the air escapes my lungs. "No it's nooot…"

"Ok, if that's how you see it. All I was trying to do was give you some encouragement to end your pain," Dad says by rolling his eyes and burying his head back into the comics section.

I refuse to say anything back because he'll never understand what I'm feeling right now. Discomfort. Unease. Pure terror at the highest degree. Maybe dad isn't taking this seriously enough. He MUST get better so that he can go back to being my favorite scarer.

"Oh be nice, Ronan! She's just being considerate and letting Johnny feel as comfortable as possible. By the way, I've decided that we're having Roasted Pork Tenderloin since Jonathan is here," Mom berates.

Dad's head raises from the compact literature in front of him like a groundhog leaving its burrow. His ears shoot up and his eyes are wide. "Hu-wha-say again!?"

"Ssssshhhhhhh!" I reprimand.

How many times do I have to say to be quiet?! Are my mom and I the only mature ones in this family now?! I thought it was a universal rule to be quiet when someone sleeps, yet that rule doesn't apply to Johnny?!

"Ok, I'm sorry," Dad laughs, "But you can trust me when I say that he'll be fine. He can sleep all he wants but it's his immune system that is superior to ours in every way."

I growl at him while cautiously moving my head so that I can see Johnny. He's still sleeping, which is good, but I don't think we can get away with anything further.

"Don't give me attitude," Dad growls back but with smile, "I'll wake him up, I swear it."

Mom laughs and turns around after placing the pork tenderloin in the oven. The little screen at the top says 400 degrees and I can already smell hints of garlic, rosemary, and maple syrup which makes my stomach rumble. "Uh oh, be careful Melanie. He's getting serious."

Dad stands up and walks past Johnny and I so that he can help out in the kitchen. "You're lucky he's here to protect you."

"You're lucky that you have mom always backing you up!" I counter with a loud whisper.

"Ooo that's it. You owe me one bite of pork from your dinner and that's final," Dad threatens.

That one makes me subconsciously push myself off Johnny so that my torso is suspended above him. "No I don't! You'll have a bigger plate than all of us you big, fat glutton!"

"Make that a whole slice," Dad chuckles.

I'm going to kill that old man. He's using his generational power to justify punishing me for having a different opinion on things. I just straight up wish to grab him by his twig-like neck and shake it like a pool noodle. You know what, maybe I'll go for a giant chomp on his forearm instead. I'll bite down as hard as I can and will refuse to let go before shaking it around like one of my puppy toys.

Mom calmly makes her way over to me and leans down to grab both my hands. "Ok Ronan, stop teasing her. And you, Melody, would you help me prepare some Mashed Potato Casserole?" She chimes in while carefully guiding me off Johnny.

Dad, once again, lets his surprise be known. "Your mashed potato casserole? What is this? Why are we preparing a holiday dinner?"

When I'm finally on my feet, and feel all the pressure being relieved from the front of my body, I look at Johnny to see that he's still sleeping…which is guess is…um…good…That just means Dad was right though…

"Well, I originally planned for it to be a congratulatory dinner for my two favorite Fear Co employees, but things didn't go the way I planned them to go," Mom responds as we both head into the kitchen.

It seems that Mom has already half-way finished the casserole, so I add cream cheese, Parmesan, eggs, salt and pepper before melting butter and adding all of that on top. The process isn't very lengthy, but I enjoyed cooking with my mom like I always do. I also made sure to watch my dad closely because he's so unpredictable that I'm certain he would try to mess with me. He never did though, so I put the casserole in the oven with no problems.

"Soooooooo, when can we eat?" Dad asks.

"Be patient. It's only ten minutes," Mom replies after flicking him on the nose.

"Ow! Lynn! Come on! You know this, you're cooking is to die for! I'm just hungry!" Dad pouts.

My stomach rumbles immediately afterwards, wincing at the uncomfortable pain that comes along with it.

"You too?" A deep voice says right beside my ear.

My spine quakes and my limbs shoot out in random directions after jumping into the air. The yelp I let out is so genuine that it even scares my mom. She has to take a step towards me and grab my arms so that I don't fall over. Once my neurons are all done firing, I'm able to look behind me and see Johnny smiling at me apologetically. He's moved one of his arms behind his head to lay on it and stretched his legs out so that his toes can comfortably wiggle.

"You're supposed to have a fever, John!" I scream.

I then lunge forward to the couch and lay into Johnny's chest. My intrusive thoughts force me to wish that his breathing functions would cease entirely through the vehicle of brute force. He's able to grab ahold of my wrists and place them at my side before I let out an exhausted groan. I'm tired. I'm over it. I want to go to bed.

"I'm sorry," Johnny laughs as he gives me a hug, "It wasn't my intention to scare you that bad. I thought I made it pretty obvious that I was awake for a little while there."

"You were awake?!" I wail.

"Yeah. It's nice to know that you care so much about me, princess," Johnny responds, "But I will never know how your father knew I was awake, and you didn't. We're going to have to work on those awareness skills, aren't we?"

"Daaaaad, why didn't you tell me?!" I continue.

Dad shrugs with his eyes closed. "The world will never know. Anyways, let's set the table."

He struts out of the kitchen and into the dining room, not even taking a single glance out of the back door to see the environment outside. I'm so overstimulated that I can't do anything but freeze up and stutter. I had an argument, cooked a side dish, got scared, and had my mind blown so fast that my brain has become char-grilled mush. I think my mom feels the same way too though.

"You two had better be careful doing this to us. We get that you're professional Scarers and all, but the next time either of you pull that on us, expect your dinners to be filled with rocks," Mom states.

Johnny nervously laughs but then covers it up with his rich-boy seriousness. "Ahem, yes ma'am."

"I'm serious. That is supposed to be for the scare factories, not the household. Do I have to repeat myself, Ronan?" She continues scolding while hollering into the next room.

Dad reveals himself from the dining room and brings his hand up to his head, giving my mom a salute while sticking out his tongue. Whenever my mom gets like this, he absolutely has to become a military recruit, otherwise he's sleeping on the couch for the next week. I remember that happened once when I was very little. I can't recall what he did to ensue her wrath, but it was something that caused him to end up sleeping down here for a week or two. There were nights where I woke up after having nightmares and made my way down here to sleep with him because that was my way of feeling safe.

"Good. Now you both had better apologize to Melody. Oh, I should take your temperature one more time before we eat, Jonathan," Mom requests.

Johnny's POV

I hate it. Every time my taste buds come into contact with any bit of food in this house, my mind is flooded with thoughts about how devoid of life my childhood palette was. The lack of character in all the meats, the blandness of all those salads, the unbearable saltiness of the seafoods… I don't know how I didn't have a malnutrition problem. With this serving of Roasted Pork Tenderloin, I feel a sense of coziness, nostalgia and love. Everything that I would only feel once in a blue moon all fused into one and within arm's reach. I was honestly nervous about eating it too. The last time I ate something made from an Everett, I didn't even chew. I just inhaled it and became very feral. Keeping myself from returning to such an unsightly state was beyond challenging, but with an astounding amount of control, I was able to keep my composure.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. I'll be sure to make more the next time you join us for dinner," Evelyn apologizes.

I down an entire glass of water before responding. "That's quite alright, Ms. Everett. It was more satisfying than you think. Just think of it more like payback for letting me rest here."

"Well I'm glad it was enough then," Evelyn laughs.

She then rises from her seat at the dining table and grabs everyone's dishes. She disappears for a few seconds and then returns to join us. She has the exact same movement as Melanie does. Whenever they need to sit down, they slowly lower themselves onto the chair and keep their feet and legs close together. They'll also slant their legs and place their hands in their laps. It's weird seeing such etiquette from a family where such etiquette doesn't really match their symbolic nature.

"So, would you two share with us what happened today at the factory? Right before we were about to arrive, Mr. King called us to say that my try out would be rescheduled because of reasons he couldn't share," Ronan asks.

I see Melanie give me a side-eye as she drinks from her glass of water next to me, which means that she would like me to explain. However, I think that's because she doesn't want to make my father out to be a horrible person and would like for me to choose how to handle this. He totally is an awful monster though.

"Yeah, um…it was because of my father," I say while scratching the back of my head.

"Oh?" Ronan says while slightly squinting.

"Yeah. After having a restless night, he pulled me into his office and pretty much said how uninterested he was in having you try out. What he wants for the company is to find the best scarers with unrivaled horrifying natures or scarers from impressive lineages, and he knows nothing about you," I answer, "On top of that, he didn't think your scaring gap of twenty years ago helped your case."

"Hmm…," Ronan grumbles, "That's rich. I swore we were entering a Scare Energy shortage."

"We are, and I've tried my best to reason with him, but he does not care. I told Melanie and Professor King what happened, and he decided that it was best to postpone your try out and talk with him. Now here I am wondering how that went," I add.

Ronan doesn't respond. His eyes remain firmly on the tabletop as he ponders deeply.

"Did Mr. King say anything about a new date for that try out?" Evelyn questions.

I shake my head. "I mean, I guess what I really should say is I don't know. I was not feeling well enough to pay attention fully."

"Oh no, it was a stress related fever, wasn't it?" Evelyn gasps.

Melanie snickers and topples over onto my shoulder as if she were a toy soldier being knocked over. "I still can't believe a rich boy like you would ever be stressed."

"Oh, Melody. Be nice to Jonathan. He's trying his best to make everything work out," Evelyn defends.

Melanie laughs some more before saying, "I know, I'm just joking. I just hope the Professor will let him go back to work soon. He wants Johnny to take a week or so off so that he can feel better."

"Mmm, those darn Scaring Companies and their rules for scarers. If only they had those for all the mechanics," Evelyn adds as she gives Ronan a few good pats on his head.

I would like to hope they do at Fear Co, especially since Professor King is pretty much running the place now. If all the employees aren't at their best, then how would I be at my best?

It's at this point where I remember something important. It's the main reason why I ended up being overly excited and nervous about seeing Melanie today at work. It's also technically the reason that caused me to be late by sleeping through my alarm. This is business that could possibly end all the issues that have arisen between our families. My father might finally be able to approve of the choices I've made, and Melanie's family might finally feel like they belong somewhere, even if they're not the fanciest of the bunch.

"Uh, Ms. Everett? I know this is short notice, and I originally wanted to ask this under better circumstances, but my mother and I were actually hoping you could join my family for dinner tomorrow. We originally and coincidentally wanted it to be a dinner about welcoming you three to the Scaring World, but my father has made a mess of it all, so I understand if that's not going to work," I speak.

Ronan grumbles. "Mmm…he didn't know about that plan, did he?"

I shake my head. "No. I told my mother that he would try to change our minds because of…uh…well, you know why. But I know that if I can get him to actually learn about who you all are then…he'll understand why I'm defying him at almost every turn."

I see Ronan's face crinkle after listening to what just escaped my mouth.

"I-I know that was a discourteous thing to say, but that's basically what he has said to me these past few months, that I should only be associating with monsters of impressive Scaring lineages," I spout in defense.

Ronan sits against the back of his chair and inhales another cup of water before responding. "I've heard it all from Melanie, you don't have to explain it. What do you think Evelyn?"

"Well," Evelyn replies with uncertainty, "I do think it'll be a little uncomfortable with your father being there, Jonathan."

"I understand, but I want to at least try. He's only ever heard or read about you three anyways. Actually seeing and talking to you might change his opinion," I reply.

"Ugh, I could argue with you as much as you want…But if you and Melanie are to be together, then I think it would be best to at least meet them. That's the only reason I can think of this dinner being worth going to," Evelyn states.

"I want to actually meet your mom for real this time too," Melanie adds.

"Hmm…We'll give it a try then. Maybe it won't be as bad as we think it will," Ronan adds, "What time should we be there?"

"Six o' clock."