Another Lovely Day in the Neighbourhoodby daOtterGuyChaptersAGAIN BeAGAINutiful Morning AGAINt CAGAINmpA BCAuTCfHl MoHnIMg At CampA Beautiful Morning At CampAnother LoveLy Day In the NEighbourhoodAnoTheR Lovely Day in the NeigHboUrhoodAbotrer Levaly Day ik the NiightourhoodAMAtKer LEvITy Day iS tTe NOighPourhoodAGotHer Lively DAv eN the NeighbourhooDOctober 10th, 20XX: HomecomingA Bmaetimol Morring At CaypWai!t!i!n!g F!o!r t!he! !He!ro To !S!uddenly App!e!a!r!September 7th, 19XX: WishAGAIN BeAGAINutiful Morning AGAINt CAGAINmpLight faded as they went deeper into the woods. They passed countless clay versions of themselves along the way, all in various states of elation, fear and sadness. Hands from the shadows pulled gently at their clothes. A half-hearted attempt at best and hardly worth the effort to deal with. Probably why Timber hadn’t bothered to mention them earlier. It should have all been more off putting, but, to Flash, it felt more familiar than anything. “I’m a really selfish person,” Timber said. “You’re not,” Flash replied. There was an undercurrent of worry in his tone. “You saved me from that other place.” “But the reason I did it is wrong.” “What do you mean?” No response. They arrived in a grove. Countless versions of themselves were arranged in the center of the clearing in various poses. In some, Flash was kneeling with a ring proffered to an elated Timber. In others, Flash looked mad with Timber desperately trying to explain something. There were so many variations, so many different situations. All centered on the two of them. Once more, a prominent question came to Flash’s mind. “Did I ask you to marry me?” Flash asked. “Yes,” Timber answered. He tried to count how many proposals there were in the overlapping versions of themselves. He lost count well past the twenties. “How many times have I asked you?” Flash asked. “...Yes,” Timber answered. Flash stood within the circle of their past selves. Timber stood outside of it, a sad smile on his face. Flash thought first that it might have been contentment at showing how Flash always picked him, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something more. Something Timber didn’t want to tell him until Flash couldn’t do anything about it. “Why am I not freaking out more?” Flash asked. “Only mental memory can be removed here. Muscle and emotional memory are unaffected,” Timber explained. “You’re not panicking because you’ve done this so many times that your body is used to it.” “So, I’ve been rescued from Cardboard Town and had this conversation dozens of times before now that my body is used to it even my mind isn’t?” “That about sums it up.” He let the idea settle. Allowed his feelings to manifest and process the situation. Like Timber said, it all felt nostalgic, motions he had already done before even if he couldn’t really remember all those prior times. Because of that, he also knew that Timber had already given up. “We’re not going to try and escape,” Flash said. “No.” Timber shook his head. “But there’s a plan.” “Yeah, there is.” Flash took a moment to look at his partner. Really look at him. The haggardness, how tired he was, the dull eyes and expression that always seemed to convey the idea of ‘why bother’? It was worrying. It almost felt like Timber was ready to just disappear. Permanently. “Timber…” Flash clenched his fists “What exactly is the plan?” No response. “Timber—” Furred hands attached to gangly limbs grabbed Timber from behind. A cartoonish chimp-like face peered out from the dark. What little of its torso that could be seen was covered in strange paper slips all transcribed with the same symbol. It yanked, retreating back into the dark. Timber went with it. “No!” Flash shouted. He chased after them. A BCAuTCfHl MoHnIMg At CampFlash raced after Timber. Clay splattered against him as he crashed through foliage with the single-minded purpose of catching his boyfriend before whatever that monster did what it intended to do. Flash didn’t know, but he presumed it wouldn’t be good. Another clearing. A pool of clay rippled in the center. A dark serpentine body, the monster’s body, was sinking into the ‘water’ taking Timber with him. He grabbed Timber’s hand. “Timber, hold on!” Flash shouted. “I’m really selfish, Flash,” Timber replied. “I’m sorry I never told you.” “Not the time!” He tried to dig in his heels, but couldn’t find any purchase, instead sinking into the pool along with them. Clay went up to his knees, eating them both. The monster had long since submerged and only half of Timber’s body was unenveloped. “Please, Timber! Fight!” Bitter tears rolled down Flash’s face. “I’m sorry, Flash, but I can’t stand being without you, so… I’ll wait for you this time,” Timber said. “That’s the deal, okay?” “Deal? What deal?!” “I can’t keep doing these resets. Losing you, watching you suffer from the same hurt over and over again… I’m at my limit.” Timber smiled. There was a sad resignation to it. “The monster offered me a bargain.” “Stop talking nonsense! I’m getting you out of this and then—” “Flash.” Flash paused. Timber sunk just a bit more. “I already made the deal. I lose awareness so you can have it. You can skip the pain. It’s all I want. Just… find me again, please?” He charged forward. Flash kissed Timber. A final— no, one of many to be had. He tried to get his body to remember Timber’s warmth. To stay with him for however long it would take to get him back. The warmth disappeared. Timber was gone. All Flash had left was clay up to his elbows and bitter tears. A Beautiful Morning At CampTimber fiddled with the length of wood between his fingers. Good carving material, but he wasn’t inspired to do anything with it. He’d felt off all morning, like his body wasn’t quite right. He felt both too young and too old, a weird sensation. Campers raced around camp, making trouble for his sister. If he looked at them a little too long they seemed… off, but he couldn’t place in what way. Campaign posters for Celestia were plastered on some of the main buildings. ‘Know what you did wrong’. It was a weird slogan and one that made Timber extremely uncomfortable. Much like the redhead with the too big glasses. She kept giving him looks. Pity. Disappointment. Sadness. It was weird since he didn’t even remember meeting her before that day. “Hey.” One of the campers. Rocker look with a leather jacket over the usual attire. He looked rough. Red welts and scars along his neck and what little he could see of his arms. He had intense eyes that bespoke of barely contained anger. He was definitely Timber’s type, but he was already in a relationship with SVHKHFGS. “Hey,” Timber greeted. “Enjoying camp?” “Yeah, but I was looking for something more…” a glint of mischief along with a smirk “—wild.” “Well, we have several different activities. I could—” “Not that.” The camper waved a hand dismissively. “I was hoping for something more risky. Maybe with some company?” Was he flirting with him? No way. Timber didn’t get flirted with. He always had to make the first move. Plus, again, he was taken. “Not sure what you mean, but feel free to make your own fun.” He shrugged. “Just try not to stress my sister out too much.” “Alright, see you around.” He gave a mock salute in goodbye. “See ya,” Timber replied. He returned to the wood in his hands. “I’ll make sure I’m always nearby when you need me.” Surprised, Timber looked up. The camper was gone. He wasn’t physically present, but Timber felt like he hadn’t gone far. He felt wetness on his cheeks. He touched his face to discover they were tears. Weird. As he thought about the camper, he stared at the perfect carving stick in his hands. He grabbed a nearby knife. Timber had his inspiration. Another LoveLy Day In the NEighbourhood“So, where’s your girlfriend?” Flash looked up from his phone. He’d been busy hashing out a new song in the notes app. He had the melody and the chorus down, but the transition chords between verses needed— “Earth to space cadet, you copy?” Lyra waved a hand in front of his face. “Yeah, totally!” Flash said. “What were you asking me again?” “Your girlfriend,” Lyra said. “Where is she?” “Oh! Sunset.” Flash grinned. “She’s still on her trip.” “Where?” “She’s—” Flash took a second to think “—Out of town. At some school event.” “Do you know when she gets back?” “Later this week. But that’s not important. You got some time? I have a new song idea I wanna hash out with you.” “Oh, sweet! Definitely. I’ll grab Vinyl and—” “Lyra!” Flash and Lyra turned toward Bon Bon on the opposite end of the classroom. She had a hard glare directed at Lyra with her arms crossed over her chest. “Uh oh. Looks like I did something wrong. Gotta go deal with that.” She pointed finger guns at him and clicked her tongue. “I’ll talk to you later. Really wanna hear the new Sentry original.” “For sure. We’ll talk soon,” Flash replied. “Try to remember your instrument this time.” “I’ll—” “Lyra!” “Gotta scoot! Later Flash!” Lyra took off. Flash watched her go, taking in the rest of the classroom. A small tiled room with nine evenly spaced desks and walls plastered over with colourful posters. All of them were mayoral campaign messages from Celestia with a slogan of ‘Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^ if you need help’. He didn’t know what kind of problem you would need to call a number like that, but he doubted that he would ever need to. Another glance toward his classmates. Lyra was getting reamed out by Bon Bon. Moondancer was huddled up in a corner with her nose in a book. Vinyl was bobbing her head to music. Bulk was trying to look as small as possible. Timber— Two hands slammed down onto Flash’s desk. “$%^!#&*(%^?!.” Flash looked at Timber in surprise. He was waaay too close and Flash could easily make out the bags under his eyes and haggardness in his face. Also— “What did you say?” Flash asked. “$%^!#&*(%^?!,” Timber repeated. It sounded like what he would expect Wingdings to sound like if they were even remotely pronounceable. “Again, what?” Timber rubbed his forehead with a hand. “Nevermind,” he said. “Do you know where you are?” “School?” Flash said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “No, Flash. Where are you?” Flash shrugged helplessly. “Dammit— Okay, listen. I’m gonna tell you something. It’s really important that you remember this, okay?” “Yeah sure. What is it?” He leaned in close, his breath tickling Flash’s ear. “Remember that none of this—” AnoTheR Lovely Day in the NeigHboUrhoodFlash felt itchy. He clawed at his arms underneath the thick material of his jacket. It was a sensation that never seemed to lessen no matter how much he scratched. He’d even checked his skin directly and found nothing obviously wrong with it. Though annoying, it would probably sort itself out before long. “W-where’s your girlfriend?” Bulk Biceps was next to him in the school corridor. He was fidgeting with his hands as his eyes darted back and forth along the hall. It was weird how ‘on alert’ he always was. “On a school trip out of town,” Flash answered. “Gilda d-doesn’t really seem the type,” Bulk said. “She isn’t, but I managed to get her to cave with a bit of nudging.” Flash grinned. “You know how she is.” “Y-yeah.” Bulk’s eyes looked past him. He tensed. “I-I don’t like those campaign posters.” Flash looked in the same direction as Bulk. Another of Celestia’s mayoral posters were on the wall. ‘Know the signs. Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^ if you need help.’ “Not a great campaign slogan,” Flash remarked. “I mean, what signs? What help does she even provide? Landscaping?” “Huh?” Bulk furrowed his brow. “No, it says—” “Flash.” Timber appeared. “You’re going to be late,” he said. “Wait, where’s—” Flash heard a yelp. He looked past Timber and saw Bulk running full sprint down the hall. “Okay, nevermind. Anyways, what am I late for?” “Trixie’s show,” Timber said. He dropped the letters at the end of the words making everything he said sound almost drunk. “You promised her you’d go see it.” He didn’t recall making that promise. He hadn’t even seen Trixie in… He hadn’t seen Trixie. Which was a weird feeling since it was Trixie. She wasn’t exactly hard to miss. “When did I promise that?” Flash asked. “A long time ago,” Timber answered. “She’ll be mad if you aren’t there.” The itching came back with a vengeance. He tried to scratch, but Timber grabbed his hand before he could. “It’ll be good for you,” Timber said. “Okay, sure. Let’s go. I— probably?— promised her so it’s only right that I show up.” “Good.” “...Are you going to let me go, Timber?” Timber looked at him. Through him. Flash wasn’t sure if Timber liked what he saw. He let go. “We should go get seated,” Timber said. “The auditorium, right? It should be—” “Here.” Timber jerked a thumb to Flash’s right. Flash was startled to find the entrance to the place in question. Posters for Trixie’s show were plastered all over the red door promising an ‘unforgettable show’. “Right, we’re— when did we get here?” Flash asked. “...We should go get seated,” Timber repeated. Flash felt reluctant to enter. There was an undercurrent of fear inside him that he couldn’t quite place the origin of. It filled him with dread just thinking about entering the place. Timber was looking through him again. Like he could read his thoughts. He hoped Timber couldn’t tell how afraid he was. He grabbed Flash’s hand, holding tight. It was the texture of wood. Rough and strong. It felt comfortable if a little more intimate then what he would have expected. It was similar to when he held— “Timber, I have a girl—” “Come on.” With a hard tug, Flash was pulled into the theater. It was dark. Almost cavernous with how their steps echoed in the massive chamber. The place was packed, but the dim lighting made it impossible to make out anyone’s face. Flash was yanked by Timber toward the front row and into two seats right in the middle. They sat down. Timber let go of his hand. He didn’t want him to. His head swiveled about the area looking for a familiar face amongst the darkened crowd. “Can’t you sit still for more than a minute?” Flash whipped his head toward the voice. There was just a dark face in the crowd ignoring him. On his other side, Timber was silent, staring forward with an intense look. “Did you say something?” Flash asked. “No,” Timber said. Before Flash could follow up, the stage lights burst to life. On stage was Trixie, dressed to the nines with a wide smile that was both taunting and smug. “Hello, gentle audience!” She announced, arms raised up. “Welcome to the Grrreat and Pooowerful Trixie’s grand show!” Spatters of polite claps. Flash followed suit. Afterward, he gripped the end of the armrests. “Now to start things off, what’s up Trixie’s sleeves?” She pulled at one of her cuffs. “Hmmm, odd. Trixie was sure she put something there. Maybe—” She pulled at the opposite cuff. A bunny’s head, disproportionately larger than Trixie’s sleeve, popped out. Flash was flabbergasted. He let out a cheer of delight at the trick. Long nails dug into his hand. “Ugh, why can’t you just behave?” He looked at his hand. There was nothing there. Flash returned to watching the show. “Ah, there you are, assistant!” Trixie announced. “It appears they have finally decided to appear. Now, let’s get you out of there!” She shook her cuff. The rabbit slid out. The cutesy head was attached to an elongated humanoid body with emancipated limbs with a simple red bow tie tied around its neck. Immediately, Flash felt there was something wrong. He started to stand up. “Stop always making a scene.” He sat back down. His foot tapped the ground, agitated. The itching got worse. He clenched his hands into fist to resist the urge to scratch them more. “With Trixie’s greeeat and pooowerful assistant, we will be performing Trixie’s newest death defying trick!” The ‘assistant’ walked off stage and brought back a massive water tank. It was human sized with glass panels bolted together with metal plates along the corners. Dread formed in the pit of Flash’s stomach. “Now, my assistant, bind me!” Trixie put out her arms as her assistant began to tie steel chains around her. “The greeeat and pooowerful Trixie will be bound tight—” The rabbit braced a foot against Trixie’s back and pulled “—and be dunked into this water tank! Then Trixie will miraculously escape unharmed!” A murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. The assistant, done tying Trixie up, slung her over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes and made their way toward the back of the tank. This was insane. There was no way Trixie was ready for a trick like this and that rabbit looked far too dangerous. He needed to stop this. He started to rise, but was stopped by nails digging into his chest. “Don’t be an embarrassment.” Flash dropped back into his seat. That itching was getting worse by the second and was spreading along his neck. He scratched at the newest spot. Scratching became painful digging as his nails dug into skin. The assistant climbed a ladder in the back of the tank and held Trixie upside down over the opening in the top. It was like watching a cartoon villain readying to toss the hero down a cliff. “Watch carefully as the greeeat and pooowerful Trixie astounds you all!” She looked up. “Now assistant!” It dropped her. Flash scratched harder. Swimming freely at the bottom of the tank, she looked confident. Then the assistant placed a metal plate over the top of the tank, and a look of surprise crossed her face. She kicked the top. It didn’t budge. Panic began to spread. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. That was clear from the fear on Trixie’s face. It was going to end badly. He had to move. He had to save her. She was his friend. She was going to— A hand like wood grasped his own. Timber was looking at him. He offered a baseball bat in his other hand. Flash took it. “Don't be a moron.” Before the other hand could stop him, he leaped out of his seat and clambered on stage. Trixie was banging against the glass. He swung. Crunch. “You’re ruining everything!” Glass held. Mutters from the crowd. None of that mattered. He swung again. Crack. Glass shattered. Water spilled across the stage. A gasp of breath as Trixie fell out of the tank. He dropped the bat and went to her. “Trixie are you—” Bang. “The greeeat and pooowerful Trixie has— Wait, what did you do?!” Trixie was standing by the back entrance. Trixie was on the stage. Stage Trixie lifted herself onto her hands, her face twisted into rage. “You lying wretch! You lied to Trixie! You lied! You lied! YOU—” Crunch. The assistant raised the bat it had taken again and swung down on— He couldn’t look at it. Everything felt wrong. He turned toward the audience desperately searching for someone, anyone, to help him make sense of this. Timber hugged him on stage, pinning his hands to either side of his head. He’d been scratching. He’d drawn blood along his neck. He hadn’t noticed. Timber stroked the back of his head. It was comforting. “It’ll be over soon, I promise,” Timber whispered, “Just hang in there, ba—” Abotrer Levaly Day ik the NiightourhoodFlash felt tired. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and noticed the heavy bags under his eyes and red splotches across his skin. A quick check confirmed that they were all over his body, primarily focused around his neck and arms. Lights flickered overhead in the dingy back bar room he was in. He could feel the mustiness and age of everything around him. His electric guitar leaned against a nearby wall in contrast to everything else, too new for this old room. That and the posters plastered everywhere. ‘You can always get help. Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^’. He had never been fond of Celestia’s dumb campaign posters but these ones in particular agitated him. Ding. He looked at his phone. A text from Vinyl. Probably about the event since she was handling the sound system tonight. You l00k lk sh1t. You st1ll g00d 2 play? Deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair. Yeah. Good to go. Y0ur g1rlfr13nd in 2nite? Derpy’s at a convention out of town. Why’s sh3 nvr h3r3? Flash put his phone into his pocket. He didn’t want to answer that question since he didn’t even really know the answer to it. A hand fell on his shoulder. He covered it with his own. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” Flash remarked. “Do you want me to go?” Timber replied. “...No.” They stayed like that in silence. Flash felt… comfortable for once and he really wanted to leave it be for fear of ruining the moment, but a nagging question in his mind forced him to speak. “What is going on?” Flash asked. “That’s not the right question,” Timber answered. “Then what is the right question?” “You’ll know when it comes to you.” “Can’t you just tell me now?” “No. It never works if I tell you.” Timber withdrew his hand. “You have a show to do.” “But—” “It’ll be clear to you soon, Flash. I promise.” “...Will you be in the audience?” “Front row. Always.” Then Timber left. His mind was twisted in turmoil. He scratched at the red welts along his skin, thankfully less itchy than before. He could stop this, go back home and try to recover from whatever madness dogged him. That was the smart choice. Instead, he grabbed his guitar and left the room. The roar of the audience greeted him. Flash was pretty sure the bar was supposed to be smaller than this, but he wouldn’t complain about such a massive audience spread out before him. It didn’t make him nervous. On the contrary, it invigorated him. A big crowd meant tons of fans. Maybe even new ones. A musician’s dream. On the small stage was a microphone and an amp. He plugged his guitar in, and adjusted the mic stand. He brought a hand up, ready to strum the first note. He searched the sea of dark faces for Timber. Front row. Just like he said he’d be. Flash hit the chord, hard. The riff he played into was louder than it should be, but the crowd was egging him on and he needed to get them pumped up. It was deafening. The cheering. The guitar. All of it served to convince Flash that this was exactly where he wanted to be. Red welts and weird happenstance be damned. Going into the first verse, he started to sing. He blasted out lyrics he’d spent months on, weaving verse from the harmonious notes. A wave of adoration from the crowd. It was intoxicating. He was getting drunk off the praise doing what he loved for a crowd that loved his music as much as he did. Song after song, chord after chord. Sweat poured off him in a river. It was all secondary to the performance. He hadn’t felt this good in ages. “Loser.” The single word cut through the noise. He faltered, but recovered quickly. No one noticed. He tried to move past it, but the word reverberated inside his head, stuck like chewed gum to the underside of a table. “Loooser.” It wasn’t worth getting hung up on. He wouldn’t let it get to him. “Pathetic. Loooser.” His hands shook causing the sound to distort. He felt a chill. The music was suffering from stupid words and it was making him mad. “Wimp. Idiot. Moron.” Cold was rapidly leaving him as heat overtook his body. It was rising like an uncontrollable wave ready to crash onto the shore. “Loooser. Iiidiot. Mooor—” Keep it under control. Almost at the end. “Clown. Stupid. Weak—” One more bar. One more bar. One more— “You don’t even have the—” “SHUT UP!” Flash shouted. “SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUT—!” He brought his guitar up over his head then smashed it against the amp. “—UP!” The amp wailed its death rattle. Flash smashed it again. And again. And again. Metal pieces went flying. Red splattered the stage. Static blared from the speakers. Unhinged laughter underneath it all. The amp was a silhouette of a person, outlined by splatters of blood. Mangled and broken. He dropped to his knees and screamed. It was too much. It was— Someone hugged him from behind. “Why does this hurt?!” Flash demanded. “What is happening?!” “Just a little longer.” Timber squeezed him tighter. “It’ll all make sense soon.” “Where is $%^!#&*(%^?! Where is she?!” “Not here. She never was.” He wailed. He struggled. He banged his hands on his legs. It hurt. It hurt so much. Why wouldn’t it stop— AMAtKer LEvITy Day iS tTe NOighPourhoodFlash didn’t want to move. He was tucked under the covers, curled in on himself to be as small as possible. The red welts had started to hurt more and more. He felt like he was in a constant state of panic, always waiting for the next round of hurt to come. His heart pounded in his ears from dread and fear. A body pressed up against him. Nails dug into his back. “Don’t you want me back?” No. “You can’t ever lose what we had.” He wanted to. Two hands ensnared his body. It was like being squeezed by a vice. “You’ll never be rid of me.” Flash threw off the covers and got out of bed. He pulled on what clothes he could and grabbed the doorknob to his bedroom. He stopped just short of turning it as he noticed the rest of the area around him. It was definitely his room. Punk rock posters, a red motif, and all the kinds of things a guy his age would have… even if that age felt very much in question as time wore on. But where he expected solid objects were instead cheap cardboard substitutes. Flimsy standees meant to look like what his room was. How had he never noticed before? He stepped outside into the burg. A cul-de-sac that fed into a road that stretched infinitely toward the horizon. Eight houses, each themed after their owner, were arranged evenly around the dead end circle. Painted cardboard held up by pitiful stands of weak paper. Plastered on several of the standees were more campaign posters. ‘Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^ for help’. He refused. “Where’s your girlfriend?” Moondancer stood nearby, a bored expression on her face and a book in one hand. “I don’t know…” Flash said, then louder, “I don’t know!” “...You should find her then,” Moondancer stated. “And how do I do that?” She jerked her head toward something behind him. He looked in the indicated direction to find a metal stop sign. “A town entirely of cardboard. A single post made of metal,” Moondancer remarked. “Does that give you any ideas?” Flash grabbed the pole with both hands and braced. He pulled. And pulled. And pulled. It popped out of the ground, nearly unbalancing him. He hefted it over one shoulder. “Let me know if you find anything,” Moondancer said. “Might be the only way out.” Then Flash took off. Those stupid houses? Smashed. Those stupid fences? Smashed. Those stupid shrubs? Smashed. Structure after structure fell to Flash’s stop sign of destruction. It felt great, smashing everything to pieces without a care in the world. Even though his body ached and his hands felt raw from clutching the signpost too hard, he still kept breaking everything in his way. He needed to. It was the only thing left for him to do. Bursts of laughter bubbled out of him each time he smashed something. The neighbourhood. The school. That stupid auditorium. That even stupider bar. Nothing was left standing. All of it would succumb to Flash. It made the hurt lessen. Rage filled the gaps. Elation from cathartic release kept him going long past when he should have stopped. Eventually, nothing was left. A void of white in every direction. The Cardboard Town reduced to nothing. He dropped to his knees, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He took ragged breaths. His face felt stretched from smiling too hard. One of Celestia’s posters was on the ground in front of him. ‘Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^, Flash.’ Flash had never felt a need to call before. Never wanted to. Inexplicably, he found himself pulling his phone out of his pocket, dialing the number and bringing the speaker to his ear. Ring. Ring. Click. “It was never about you, Flash.” He let his phone hand drop, hanging loosely next to him. “What’s the question, Flash?” He looked up into Timber’s neutral face. “...Is it my fault?” He asked. “No,” Timber said. “It was always hers.” Flash hiccupped. A bubble of emotion that finally broke him. He was crying. Snot and tears ran down his face. He wailed because it was all he was capable of doing in the moment. Timber kneeled down. He held Flash tight against him. He weathered the hurt to let it heal. AGotHer Lively DAv eN the NeighbourhooD“What is this place?” Flash sniffled, rubbing snot away with a sleeve. “Not really sure. Moondancer probably knows though,” Timber answered. Flash regarded the rubble of his rampage. Most of it was slowly dissolving into sludge and disappearing into the void. “So, we just live in an empty void now?” Flash asked. “Nah. This is just your section,” Timber said. “Besides, the hands will fix it eventually.” “The what?” “Hands.” Timber pointed into the distance. Looking in the indicated direction, Flash watched as white wooden hands dropped set pieces into the void. Scenic vistas of rolling hills and blue skies painted with white fluffy clouds forming what would become the horizon of the town. It was bizarre and off putting. “Should I be more bothered by this?” Flash asked. “I really feel like I should be freaking out right now.” Silence. “Timber?” “...Let’s leave Cardboard Town then. We can’t stay here for long anyways with the hands doing repairs.” “Cardboard Town? What’s that?” “Your part of the Neighbourhood.” “...The Neighbourhood?” “Later. It’ll make sense… eventually. For now, we need to leave. Follow Me.” Timber walked off. Flash scrambled to catch up with him. “What’s the rush? Didn’t you say the hands are fixing everything?” “Yeah, including you.” “Me? Why would they try to fix me?” Flash paused. “Okay, besides the obvious.” “There’s nothing wrong with you, Flash… but the hands don’t like us being aware of things. Try not to pass out.” “Wha—” Timber grabbed Flash’s hand and pulled him roughly forward. One blink and he was surrounded by a multitude of colour. A tower in the distance. Eight spheres of varied locales surrounded it. They floated between. Moving away from a wrecked cardboard town to a forest of clay. A second blink and they were in the woods. Sort of. Trees towered over them heavily laden with leaves and silent birds. Strands of sunlight came from above and embedded in the ground. All of it was made up of the same material. Flash pressed a hand into a tree. It gave, imprinting his handprint into the ‘bark’. “Camp Clay was literal?” Flash asked. “Yeah.” Timber hummed to himself, a finger underneath his chin and face scrunched up in thought. It looked cute. “How much do you know right now?” In lieu of a proper response, Flash kissed Timber on the lips. He went deep and hard, leaning into the contact. Flash felt Timber melt into him. Too soon, Flash pulled back. Timber was flushed. “We’re together,” Flash stated. “Yeah and—!” “That’s all I got.” “You—” Timber paused. “Wait, you just kissed me when you barely remember anything. Even if it’s you, how can you be so nonchalant about this?!” Flash shrugged. “You are—!” Timber sighed “Okay, I don’t know what I was expecting. Is that all you got?” “We’re together. Something happened that has to do with… something. I know who the other six trapped in here with us are. And of course, I know about—” Flash looked askance “—My relationship with $%^!#&*(%^?!.” Flash scowled. “$%^!#&*(%^?!. What? Why can’t I say her name?” “$%^!#&*(%^?!.” Flash stomped his foot down. “$%^!#&*(%^?!.” He growled. “$%^!#&*(%^?!!” “Unfortunately, several key people have been censored. Your exe $%^!#&*(%^?! as well as UXJMJHU and !!!!.” Timber shrugged. “I don’t know why the thing that put us here did that.” “Right, speaking of, we should talk about that. What exactly is the thing?” “I don’t know a lot about it. Too many resets, but I know some things.” Timber sat down on a nearby log. “Take a seat.” He patted the spot next to him. “This is gonna take a while.” Flash sat in the indicated spot. “So.” Timber leaned back with a sigh, gazing up at the plasticine sky. “It started at the homecoming party a few years after high school graduation.” October 10th, 20XX: Homecoming“Bulk is missing.” Timber looked at Moondancer. She had said it so bluntly and dry that he wondered if it was a joke. “How do you know?” He asked. “I met with him yesterday.” Moondancer adjusted her glasses, the glint off the sunlight hiding her eyes from sight. “Then he disappeared right in front of me.” “...How?” “He was there and then he wasn’t.” “Okay, but—” “I don’t know how to explain it better than I already have. He’s just gone.” Moondancer clenched her fists. “Though I can’t confirm it, his disappearance might be because of… that.” Dread. An instinctual fear. “It can’t be.” Timber tried to force the trembling out of his limbs. “That wasn’t real. It was just some dumb late middle school stuff. A-a mass hallucination!” “That came true,” Moondancer replied. “You more than any of us should be the last one to deny it. How else could your, at the time, underage sister manage to get full property rights for Camp Everfree away from Filthy Rich?” “It was hereditary!” “Then it should have been held onto by a legal guardian until she came of age. Instead, you were given full operational rights immediately. That’s unheard of.” Moondancer glared into the sidewalk, frowning intently. “We all made wishes, Timber. We all got what we wanted from them. We’re just paying a delayed price.” “It still doesn’t mean that thing is back. Bulk might have just run off! You know he gets antsy when he’s in one place for too long.” “...When was the last time you heard from Flash?” “...Two days ago,” Timber replied. “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s a on the road a lot and busy—” “So busy, he can’t get back to you?” Moondancer affixed Timber with a look. Timber had no response. “...Bon Bon contacted me to say that Lyra is missing. I can’t get a hold of Vinyl. Nor Trixie, and you know she’s always hoping for a call from any of us.” Moondancer stood up. “I feel it relevant that everyone seems to disappear in the order we made those wishes. That means I’m next, then you and finally Bon Bon.” “What do you expect me to do about it?” Timber asked, defeated. “Find a miracle. Barring that, maybe tell your sister you love her.” A moment of silence. “...Good luck, Timber,” Moondancer said. Timber watched her leave. Then she disappeared. It was so sudden. He jumped to his feet. She had been right there then just… wasn’t. It was so strange that Timber almost didn’t believe it had happened even though he had just seen it. He had no idea how to avoid ending up just like her. Acting fast, Timber pulled out his phone and brought up his ongoing chat with his sister. He typed out a message quickly. Hands came down on him. Then Timber disappeared. The message on his phone stayed unsent. A Bmaetimol Morring At CaypFlash found himself in the clay version of Camp Everfree. A continuation of the forest with every detail down to individual blades of grass formed from clay-like materials. It was an idealistic version of the camp with vignettes of various scenes and people around camp, some even overlapping each other. On the outer edges, closer to the woods, were the shadows of groping hands, probing the edges of the light. However, Timber seemed unconcerned about them, so Flash presumed they weren’t dangerous. Hopefully. Besides that, his mind was more focused on an obvious frequent guest in most of the vignettes. “Why am I in most of these?” Flash asked. “They’re my memories. Important ones. Of course, you’re in most of them,” Timber answered nonchalantly. One vignette caught Flash’s attention. A boat washed ashore. Inside were Flash and Timber, holding hands as they looked up at the starry night sky above. “Wouldn’t it be fun to just float away right now?” “And get stranded? No thanks!” “Aw, not like that. Just like, you know, drifting away to fulfill our dreams?” “What?!” “Well, we’re stuck here, but we could let the boat take us beyond the boundaries in our imaginations to the place we want to be.” “You’re not making any sense, Flash. It’s an enclosed lake.” “You’re really unromantic, you know that?” “One of us needs to be the practical one in this relationship.” “This was just after you started college,” Flash remarked. “Online courses for environmental studies.” Timber walked up next to him. Flash held Timber’s hand in his. “That whole program was annoying.” “And you were feeling lonely, right? Since you were just always at the Camp studying or working?” “Yeah… but you came by a lot. Couldn’t feel lonely with my boyfriend always hanging around.” Flash squeezed Timber’s hand. He squeezed back. He noticed a different scene out of the corner of his eye. They were both at the end of the dock, younger, legs dangling over the surface of the water. From their appearance this was just near the end of high school… when Flash had just broken up with his exe. He walked toward it, pulling Timber with him. Timber followed. “It’s my fault.” “No! Flash, it isn’t—” “But I let her! So it has to be because of me!” “Flash, no. She’s a monster who was using you. You did nothing wrong.” “But I—” “No buts. She’s gone, you don’t have to deal with her anymore.” “But what if I go back to her? What if—” “You won’t. Because I’ll be here to talk you out of it.” “...Thanks for being here, Timber.” “Always.” “We drifted apart in high school when Gloriosa needed you at the camp more, but got closer because of our past relationship with Sunset and SVHKHFGS,” Flash said. “To the point where it just felt like old times. Kind of inevitable that we’d end up together.” “Yeah,” Timber said. “Though it took a while since I had no idea if you liked guys or not.” “I wasn’t exactly making it hard considering the comments I was throwing your way whenever we used the camp showers.” “Fine, it took a while because I’m dense.” “No more than me.” They both laughed. As they ebbed into giggles, a question came to Flash’s mind. “So, what’s your goal now?” Flash asked. “What do you mean?” Timber replied. “You pulled me out of Cardboard Town. You told me how we disappeared even if I still don’t remember ‘that’. We’re reminiscing down memory lane so I can remember more about us, I guess? What’s next?” “Nothing.” “What do you mean? We’re gonna try and escape, right?” Timber didn’t respond. “...Right?” “...This isn’t the first time we’ve done this. Moondancer and I for some reason are the only ones that consistently remember how we got here and know what this place is. Moondancer is still trying to find a way out—” Timber squeezed Flash’s hand tightly “—I just want to be with you.” “Sooo, what? We just… stay in Camp? Hang out in this weird fake place and just live our lives as best we can?” “Yeah, basically.” “...Timber, that’s not really what you want. Is it?” In lieu of a response, Timber pulled Flash toward the woods. Though reluctant, Flash allowed himself to be guided. Wai!t!i!n!g F!o!r t!he! !He!ro To !S!uddenly App!e!a!r!Timber stared at his phone. Waiting. He was supposed to call him. He hadn’t yet. Pacing. A worn stretch of hardwood by the kitchen. A modest apartment for two boyfriends on a limited income. Photos of friends and family plastered on worn brick with old furniture bought second hand taking up too much space. They should probably replace most of this. Their careers made them enough money. But he wanted to do it together and Flash wasn’t there. Another check. No new messages. Still no call. The pacing resumed. It was fine. Flash was busy. He was on the road. Timber knew this. He knew it wasn’t neglectfulness or unwillingness, it was just finding the time. There was only so much between playing at his gigs, dealing with the fans, and getting to the venues in one piece. Not to mention basic necessities like eating and working out enough to ensure he fit into any of his clothes. These were all standard struggles for a traveling musician who was just starting to make their mark. They had a designated call window. Every day. But sometimes, Flash missed it. He was just a little too scatterbrained and a little too tired all the time to hit the mark every time. Especially when Flash thought everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. Timber flopped onto the couch, hands covering his face. He had work tomorrow. It was late and he should be getting ready for bed. He was probably too busy to get to the phone, so they wouldn’t be talking that night. Even so, Timber wanted to put off sleep as long as possible. He hated an empty bed. Sure, it was fine the first few days Flash was gone. It still smelled like him, no matter how much Flash bathed. It was obnoxiously hot because his boyfriend’s internal temperature ran at volcano and would linger for far too long. Eventually though, the smells faded, the heat left and then Timber was left with a twin bed that felt too large. It was loneliness. He knew that. It eroded him from the inside out. It went away when Flash was here, but came back with a vengeance when he wasn’t. He should talk about it with him, do something, but he couldn’t. Because of his exe. That clingy harlot. It was one of her tactics. Use their loneliness against them. If he brought it up with Flash, that would mean he was just like her. Then Flash would know that he shouldn’t stay with him. Because he’d grown and knew to treat himself better. Timber was so proud of him. Timber was so afraid Flash would leave him. His friends had moved on. His only family was too busy. Acquaintances were difficult to find. He just had work and several hobbies he didn’t feel like doing. He needed Flash to be here… but he was happy out on the road. So happy that he could follow his passions. So happy that he could move on from her. So happy that he got to fulfill his dreams. Who was Timber to take that away from him? Ring. Rin— Timber practically jumped to answer the phone. “Hey, babe! We just reached the new venue and I know it's later than our usual time, but just wanted to make sure I said I love you before bed!” With just a few words, all the horrid feelings drained out of him. Tears of relief fell from his face. “Love you too.” September 7th, 19XX: WishFlash took a step then looked back. His friends looked at him with a mix of exasperation and support. “Do I have to?” Flash asked. “It grants wishes, Flash!” Trixie retorted. “Don’t you want your wish granted?” “But what if—” “Oh, come on!” Trixie threw her hands up. “How can you not be jumping all over this?!” “It’s important to know for scientific purposes.” Moondancer adjusted her too big glasses. “And for the supernatural phenomenon!” Lyra exclaimed. “Don’t be a wuss!” Bon Bon added. “Yeah!” Bulk cried out. Vinyl gave him a thumbs up. He looked at Timber. He kicked at a few pebbles on the cracked road. “What do you think I should do?” Flash asked. Timber scowled. “A bunch of us already made wishes.” He jerked his thumb toward the others. “Only fair that we keep going. Besides, who wouldn’t want their wish granted?” Flash nodded, still reluctant. He returned his attention to the wishing shrine. A small wood structure worn down by time and weather found deep within the Everfree protected by a cracked stone ceiling and tall trees. A box with a slot whose once bright colours had faded into nearly nothing. Mounted on the back wall above it was the twisted face of a monkey surrounded by hundreds of carved wooden hands arranged in a perfect circle. He glanced at his slip of paper. ‘I wish for someone to love me.’ He gulped. It was something he’d always wanted. A girlfriend since that was what dad had said he should have between drinks. There weren’t any other proposed options— He glanced at Timber out of the corner of his eye —and he didn’t want to go through high school without a partner to love him. “Today, Flash!” Taking the last few steps, he approached the shrine, dread building up inside of him. He could feel the mask boring into him, watching his every move. The natural sound of the woods made it almost feel like the decoration was breathing heavily at him in anticipation. Flash folded the slip neatly in half and slid it into the slot. He waited. Nothing happened. “Did you do it?!” “Yeah!” He called back. “Awesome! Now, come on! Let’s go play by the lake then tomorrow we’ll come back to make more. “This shrine is the best thing ever!”
AGAIN BeAGAINutiful Morning AGAINt CAGAINmpLight faded as they went deeper into the woods. They passed countless clay versions of themselves along the way, all in various states of elation, fear and sadness. Hands from the shadows pulled gently at their clothes. A half-hearted attempt at best and hardly worth the effort to deal with. Probably why Timber hadn’t bothered to mention them earlier. It should have all been more off putting, but, to Flash, it felt more familiar than anything. “I’m a really selfish person,” Timber said. “You’re not,” Flash replied. There was an undercurrent of worry in his tone. “You saved me from that other place.” “But the reason I did it is wrong.” “What do you mean?” No response. They arrived in a grove. Countless versions of themselves were arranged in the center of the clearing in various poses. In some, Flash was kneeling with a ring proffered to an elated Timber. In others, Flash looked mad with Timber desperately trying to explain something. There were so many variations, so many different situations. All centered on the two of them. Once more, a prominent question came to Flash’s mind. “Did I ask you to marry me?” Flash asked. “Yes,” Timber answered. He tried to count how many proposals there were in the overlapping versions of themselves. He lost count well past the twenties. “How many times have I asked you?” Flash asked. “...Yes,” Timber answered. Flash stood within the circle of their past selves. Timber stood outside of it, a sad smile on his face. Flash thought first that it might have been contentment at showing how Flash always picked him, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something more. Something Timber didn’t want to tell him until Flash couldn’t do anything about it. “Why am I not freaking out more?” Flash asked. “Only mental memory can be removed here. Muscle and emotional memory are unaffected,” Timber explained. “You’re not panicking because you’ve done this so many times that your body is used to it.” “So, I’ve been rescued from Cardboard Town and had this conversation dozens of times before now that my body is used to it even my mind isn’t?” “That about sums it up.” He let the idea settle. Allowed his feelings to manifest and process the situation. Like Timber said, it all felt nostalgic, motions he had already done before even if he couldn’t really remember all those prior times. Because of that, he also knew that Timber had already given up. “We’re not going to try and escape,” Flash said. “No.” Timber shook his head. “But there’s a plan.” “Yeah, there is.” Flash took a moment to look at his partner. Really look at him. The haggardness, how tired he was, the dull eyes and expression that always seemed to convey the idea of ‘why bother’? It was worrying. It almost felt like Timber was ready to just disappear. Permanently. “Timber…” Flash clenched his fists “What exactly is the plan?” No response. “Timber—” Furred hands attached to gangly limbs grabbed Timber from behind. A cartoonish chimp-like face peered out from the dark. What little of its torso that could be seen was covered in strange paper slips all transcribed with the same symbol. It yanked, retreating back into the dark. Timber went with it. “No!” Flash shouted. He chased after them.
A BCAuTCfHl MoHnIMg At CampFlash raced after Timber. Clay splattered against him as he crashed through foliage with the single-minded purpose of catching his boyfriend before whatever that monster did what it intended to do. Flash didn’t know, but he presumed it wouldn’t be good. Another clearing. A pool of clay rippled in the center. A dark serpentine body, the monster’s body, was sinking into the ‘water’ taking Timber with him. He grabbed Timber’s hand. “Timber, hold on!” Flash shouted. “I’m really selfish, Flash,” Timber replied. “I’m sorry I never told you.” “Not the time!” He tried to dig in his heels, but couldn’t find any purchase, instead sinking into the pool along with them. Clay went up to his knees, eating them both. The monster had long since submerged and only half of Timber’s body was unenveloped. “Please, Timber! Fight!” Bitter tears rolled down Flash’s face. “I’m sorry, Flash, but I can’t stand being without you, so… I’ll wait for you this time,” Timber said. “That’s the deal, okay?” “Deal? What deal?!” “I can’t keep doing these resets. Losing you, watching you suffer from the same hurt over and over again… I’m at my limit.” Timber smiled. There was a sad resignation to it. “The monster offered me a bargain.” “Stop talking nonsense! I’m getting you out of this and then—” “Flash.” Flash paused. Timber sunk just a bit more. “I already made the deal. I lose awareness so you can have it. You can skip the pain. It’s all I want. Just… find me again, please?” He charged forward. Flash kissed Timber. A final— no, one of many to be had. He tried to get his body to remember Timber’s warmth. To stay with him for however long it would take to get him back. The warmth disappeared. Timber was gone. All Flash had left was clay up to his elbows and bitter tears.
A Beautiful Morning At CampTimber fiddled with the length of wood between his fingers. Good carving material, but he wasn’t inspired to do anything with it. He’d felt off all morning, like his body wasn’t quite right. He felt both too young and too old, a weird sensation. Campers raced around camp, making trouble for his sister. If he looked at them a little too long they seemed… off, but he couldn’t place in what way. Campaign posters for Celestia were plastered on some of the main buildings. ‘Know what you did wrong’. It was a weird slogan and one that made Timber extremely uncomfortable. Much like the redhead with the too big glasses. She kept giving him looks. Pity. Disappointment. Sadness. It was weird since he didn’t even remember meeting her before that day. “Hey.” One of the campers. Rocker look with a leather jacket over the usual attire. He looked rough. Red welts and scars along his neck and what little he could see of his arms. He had intense eyes that bespoke of barely contained anger. He was definitely Timber’s type, but he was already in a relationship with SVHKHFGS. “Hey,” Timber greeted. “Enjoying camp?” “Yeah, but I was looking for something more…” a glint of mischief along with a smirk “—wild.” “Well, we have several different activities. I could—” “Not that.” The camper waved a hand dismissively. “I was hoping for something more risky. Maybe with some company?” Was he flirting with him? No way. Timber didn’t get flirted with. He always had to make the first move. Plus, again, he was taken. “Not sure what you mean, but feel free to make your own fun.” He shrugged. “Just try not to stress my sister out too much.” “Alright, see you around.” He gave a mock salute in goodbye. “See ya,” Timber replied. He returned to the wood in his hands. “I’ll make sure I’m always nearby when you need me.” Surprised, Timber looked up. The camper was gone. He wasn’t physically present, but Timber felt like he hadn’t gone far. He felt wetness on his cheeks. He touched his face to discover they were tears. Weird. As he thought about the camper, he stared at the perfect carving stick in his hands. He grabbed a nearby knife. Timber had his inspiration.
Another LoveLy Day In the NEighbourhood“So, where’s your girlfriend?” Flash looked up from his phone. He’d been busy hashing out a new song in the notes app. He had the melody and the chorus down, but the transition chords between verses needed— “Earth to space cadet, you copy?” Lyra waved a hand in front of his face. “Yeah, totally!” Flash said. “What were you asking me again?” “Your girlfriend,” Lyra said. “Where is she?” “Oh! Sunset.” Flash grinned. “She’s still on her trip.” “Where?” “She’s—” Flash took a second to think “—Out of town. At some school event.” “Do you know when she gets back?” “Later this week. But that’s not important. You got some time? I have a new song idea I wanna hash out with you.” “Oh, sweet! Definitely. I’ll grab Vinyl and—” “Lyra!” Flash and Lyra turned toward Bon Bon on the opposite end of the classroom. She had a hard glare directed at Lyra with her arms crossed over her chest. “Uh oh. Looks like I did something wrong. Gotta go deal with that.” She pointed finger guns at him and clicked her tongue. “I’ll talk to you later. Really wanna hear the new Sentry original.” “For sure. We’ll talk soon,” Flash replied. “Try to remember your instrument this time.” “I’ll—” “Lyra!” “Gotta scoot! Later Flash!” Lyra took off. Flash watched her go, taking in the rest of the classroom. A small tiled room with nine evenly spaced desks and walls plastered over with colourful posters. All of them were mayoral campaign messages from Celestia with a slogan of ‘Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^ if you need help’. He didn’t know what kind of problem you would need to call a number like that, but he doubted that he would ever need to. Another glance toward his classmates. Lyra was getting reamed out by Bon Bon. Moondancer was huddled up in a corner with her nose in a book. Vinyl was bobbing her head to music. Bulk was trying to look as small as possible. Timber— Two hands slammed down onto Flash’s desk. “$%^!#&*(%^?!.” Flash looked at Timber in surprise. He was waaay too close and Flash could easily make out the bags under his eyes and haggardness in his face. Also— “What did you say?” Flash asked. “$%^!#&*(%^?!,” Timber repeated. It sounded like what he would expect Wingdings to sound like if they were even remotely pronounceable. “Again, what?” Timber rubbed his forehead with a hand. “Nevermind,” he said. “Do you know where you are?” “School?” Flash said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “No, Flash. Where are you?” Flash shrugged helplessly. “Dammit— Okay, listen. I’m gonna tell you something. It’s really important that you remember this, okay?” “Yeah sure. What is it?” He leaned in close, his breath tickling Flash’s ear. “Remember that none of this—”
AnoTheR Lovely Day in the NeigHboUrhoodFlash felt itchy. He clawed at his arms underneath the thick material of his jacket. It was a sensation that never seemed to lessen no matter how much he scratched. He’d even checked his skin directly and found nothing obviously wrong with it. Though annoying, it would probably sort itself out before long. “W-where’s your girlfriend?” Bulk Biceps was next to him in the school corridor. He was fidgeting with his hands as his eyes darted back and forth along the hall. It was weird how ‘on alert’ he always was. “On a school trip out of town,” Flash answered. “Gilda d-doesn’t really seem the type,” Bulk said. “She isn’t, but I managed to get her to cave with a bit of nudging.” Flash grinned. “You know how she is.” “Y-yeah.” Bulk’s eyes looked past him. He tensed. “I-I don’t like those campaign posters.” Flash looked in the same direction as Bulk. Another of Celestia’s mayoral posters were on the wall. ‘Know the signs. Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^ if you need help.’ “Not a great campaign slogan,” Flash remarked. “I mean, what signs? What help does she even provide? Landscaping?” “Huh?” Bulk furrowed his brow. “No, it says—” “Flash.” Timber appeared. “You’re going to be late,” he said. “Wait, where’s—” Flash heard a yelp. He looked past Timber and saw Bulk running full sprint down the hall. “Okay, nevermind. Anyways, what am I late for?” “Trixie’s show,” Timber said. He dropped the letters at the end of the words making everything he said sound almost drunk. “You promised her you’d go see it.” He didn’t recall making that promise. He hadn’t even seen Trixie in… He hadn’t seen Trixie. Which was a weird feeling since it was Trixie. She wasn’t exactly hard to miss. “When did I promise that?” Flash asked. “A long time ago,” Timber answered. “She’ll be mad if you aren’t there.” The itching came back with a vengeance. He tried to scratch, but Timber grabbed his hand before he could. “It’ll be good for you,” Timber said. “Okay, sure. Let’s go. I— probably?— promised her so it’s only right that I show up.” “Good.” “...Are you going to let me go, Timber?” Timber looked at him. Through him. Flash wasn’t sure if Timber liked what he saw. He let go. “We should go get seated,” Timber said. “The auditorium, right? It should be—” “Here.” Timber jerked a thumb to Flash’s right. Flash was startled to find the entrance to the place in question. Posters for Trixie’s show were plastered all over the red door promising an ‘unforgettable show’. “Right, we’re— when did we get here?” Flash asked. “...We should go get seated,” Timber repeated. Flash felt reluctant to enter. There was an undercurrent of fear inside him that he couldn’t quite place the origin of. It filled him with dread just thinking about entering the place. Timber was looking through him again. Like he could read his thoughts. He hoped Timber couldn’t tell how afraid he was. He grabbed Flash’s hand, holding tight. It was the texture of wood. Rough and strong. It felt comfortable if a little more intimate then what he would have expected. It was similar to when he held— “Timber, I have a girl—” “Come on.” With a hard tug, Flash was pulled into the theater. It was dark. Almost cavernous with how their steps echoed in the massive chamber. The place was packed, but the dim lighting made it impossible to make out anyone’s face. Flash was yanked by Timber toward the front row and into two seats right in the middle. They sat down. Timber let go of his hand. He didn’t want him to. His head swiveled about the area looking for a familiar face amongst the darkened crowd. “Can’t you sit still for more than a minute?” Flash whipped his head toward the voice. There was just a dark face in the crowd ignoring him. On his other side, Timber was silent, staring forward with an intense look. “Did you say something?” Flash asked. “No,” Timber said. Before Flash could follow up, the stage lights burst to life. On stage was Trixie, dressed to the nines with a wide smile that was both taunting and smug. “Hello, gentle audience!” She announced, arms raised up. “Welcome to the Grrreat and Pooowerful Trixie’s grand show!” Spatters of polite claps. Flash followed suit. Afterward, he gripped the end of the armrests. “Now to start things off, what’s up Trixie’s sleeves?” She pulled at one of her cuffs. “Hmmm, odd. Trixie was sure she put something there. Maybe—” She pulled at the opposite cuff. A bunny’s head, disproportionately larger than Trixie’s sleeve, popped out. Flash was flabbergasted. He let out a cheer of delight at the trick. Long nails dug into his hand. “Ugh, why can’t you just behave?” He looked at his hand. There was nothing there. Flash returned to watching the show. “Ah, there you are, assistant!” Trixie announced. “It appears they have finally decided to appear. Now, let’s get you out of there!” She shook her cuff. The rabbit slid out. The cutesy head was attached to an elongated humanoid body with emancipated limbs with a simple red bow tie tied around its neck. Immediately, Flash felt there was something wrong. He started to stand up. “Stop always making a scene.” He sat back down. His foot tapped the ground, agitated. The itching got worse. He clenched his hands into fist to resist the urge to scratch them more. “With Trixie’s greeeat and pooowerful assistant, we will be performing Trixie’s newest death defying trick!” The ‘assistant’ walked off stage and brought back a massive water tank. It was human sized with glass panels bolted together with metal plates along the corners. Dread formed in the pit of Flash’s stomach. “Now, my assistant, bind me!” Trixie put out her arms as her assistant began to tie steel chains around her. “The greeeat and pooowerful Trixie will be bound tight—” The rabbit braced a foot against Trixie’s back and pulled “—and be dunked into this water tank! Then Trixie will miraculously escape unharmed!” A murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. The assistant, done tying Trixie up, slung her over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes and made their way toward the back of the tank. This was insane. There was no way Trixie was ready for a trick like this and that rabbit looked far too dangerous. He needed to stop this. He started to rise, but was stopped by nails digging into his chest. “Don’t be an embarrassment.” Flash dropped back into his seat. That itching was getting worse by the second and was spreading along his neck. He scratched at the newest spot. Scratching became painful digging as his nails dug into skin. The assistant climbed a ladder in the back of the tank and held Trixie upside down over the opening in the top. It was like watching a cartoon villain readying to toss the hero down a cliff. “Watch carefully as the greeeat and pooowerful Trixie astounds you all!” She looked up. “Now assistant!” It dropped her. Flash scratched harder. Swimming freely at the bottom of the tank, she looked confident. Then the assistant placed a metal plate over the top of the tank, and a look of surprise crossed her face. She kicked the top. It didn’t budge. Panic began to spread. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. That was clear from the fear on Trixie’s face. It was going to end badly. He had to move. He had to save her. She was his friend. She was going to— A hand like wood grasped his own. Timber was looking at him. He offered a baseball bat in his other hand. Flash took it. “Don't be a moron.” Before the other hand could stop him, he leaped out of his seat and clambered on stage. Trixie was banging against the glass. He swung. Crunch. “You’re ruining everything!” Glass held. Mutters from the crowd. None of that mattered. He swung again. Crack. Glass shattered. Water spilled across the stage. A gasp of breath as Trixie fell out of the tank. He dropped the bat and went to her. “Trixie are you—” Bang. “The greeeat and pooowerful Trixie has— Wait, what did you do?!” Trixie was standing by the back entrance. Trixie was on the stage. Stage Trixie lifted herself onto her hands, her face twisted into rage. “You lying wretch! You lied to Trixie! You lied! You lied! YOU—” Crunch. The assistant raised the bat it had taken again and swung down on— He couldn’t look at it. Everything felt wrong. He turned toward the audience desperately searching for someone, anyone, to help him make sense of this. Timber hugged him on stage, pinning his hands to either side of his head. He’d been scratching. He’d drawn blood along his neck. He hadn’t noticed. Timber stroked the back of his head. It was comforting. “It’ll be over soon, I promise,” Timber whispered, “Just hang in there, ba—”
Abotrer Levaly Day ik the NiightourhoodFlash felt tired. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and noticed the heavy bags under his eyes and red splotches across his skin. A quick check confirmed that they were all over his body, primarily focused around his neck and arms. Lights flickered overhead in the dingy back bar room he was in. He could feel the mustiness and age of everything around him. His electric guitar leaned against a nearby wall in contrast to everything else, too new for this old room. That and the posters plastered everywhere. ‘You can always get help. Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^’. He had never been fond of Celestia’s dumb campaign posters but these ones in particular agitated him. Ding. He looked at his phone. A text from Vinyl. Probably about the event since she was handling the sound system tonight. You l00k lk sh1t. You st1ll g00d 2 play? Deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair. Yeah. Good to go. Y0ur g1rlfr13nd in 2nite? Derpy’s at a convention out of town. Why’s sh3 nvr h3r3? Flash put his phone into his pocket. He didn’t want to answer that question since he didn’t even really know the answer to it. A hand fell on his shoulder. He covered it with his own. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” Flash remarked. “Do you want me to go?” Timber replied. “...No.” They stayed like that in silence. Flash felt… comfortable for once and he really wanted to leave it be for fear of ruining the moment, but a nagging question in his mind forced him to speak. “What is going on?” Flash asked. “That’s not the right question,” Timber answered. “Then what is the right question?” “You’ll know when it comes to you.” “Can’t you just tell me now?” “No. It never works if I tell you.” Timber withdrew his hand. “You have a show to do.” “But—” “It’ll be clear to you soon, Flash. I promise.” “...Will you be in the audience?” “Front row. Always.” Then Timber left. His mind was twisted in turmoil. He scratched at the red welts along his skin, thankfully less itchy than before. He could stop this, go back home and try to recover from whatever madness dogged him. That was the smart choice. Instead, he grabbed his guitar and left the room. The roar of the audience greeted him. Flash was pretty sure the bar was supposed to be smaller than this, but he wouldn’t complain about such a massive audience spread out before him. It didn’t make him nervous. On the contrary, it invigorated him. A big crowd meant tons of fans. Maybe even new ones. A musician’s dream. On the small stage was a microphone and an amp. He plugged his guitar in, and adjusted the mic stand. He brought a hand up, ready to strum the first note. He searched the sea of dark faces for Timber. Front row. Just like he said he’d be. Flash hit the chord, hard. The riff he played into was louder than it should be, but the crowd was egging him on and he needed to get them pumped up. It was deafening. The cheering. The guitar. All of it served to convince Flash that this was exactly where he wanted to be. Red welts and weird happenstance be damned. Going into the first verse, he started to sing. He blasted out lyrics he’d spent months on, weaving verse from the harmonious notes. A wave of adoration from the crowd. It was intoxicating. He was getting drunk off the praise doing what he loved for a crowd that loved his music as much as he did. Song after song, chord after chord. Sweat poured off him in a river. It was all secondary to the performance. He hadn’t felt this good in ages. “Loser.” The single word cut through the noise. He faltered, but recovered quickly. No one noticed. He tried to move past it, but the word reverberated inside his head, stuck like chewed gum to the underside of a table. “Loooser.” It wasn’t worth getting hung up on. He wouldn’t let it get to him. “Pathetic. Loooser.” His hands shook causing the sound to distort. He felt a chill. The music was suffering from stupid words and it was making him mad. “Wimp. Idiot. Moron.” Cold was rapidly leaving him as heat overtook his body. It was rising like an uncontrollable wave ready to crash onto the shore. “Loooser. Iiidiot. Mooor—” Keep it under control. Almost at the end. “Clown. Stupid. Weak—” One more bar. One more bar. One more— “You don’t even have the—” “SHUT UP!” Flash shouted. “SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUT—!” He brought his guitar up over his head then smashed it against the amp. “—UP!” The amp wailed its death rattle. Flash smashed it again. And again. And again. Metal pieces went flying. Red splattered the stage. Static blared from the speakers. Unhinged laughter underneath it all. The amp was a silhouette of a person, outlined by splatters of blood. Mangled and broken. He dropped to his knees and screamed. It was too much. It was— Someone hugged him from behind. “Why does this hurt?!” Flash demanded. “What is happening?!” “Just a little longer.” Timber squeezed him tighter. “It’ll all make sense soon.” “Where is $%^!#&*(%^?! Where is she?!” “Not here. She never was.” He wailed. He struggled. He banged his hands on his legs. It hurt. It hurt so much. Why wouldn’t it stop—
AMAtKer LEvITy Day iS tTe NOighPourhoodFlash didn’t want to move. He was tucked under the covers, curled in on himself to be as small as possible. The red welts had started to hurt more and more. He felt like he was in a constant state of panic, always waiting for the next round of hurt to come. His heart pounded in his ears from dread and fear. A body pressed up against him. Nails dug into his back. “Don’t you want me back?” No. “You can’t ever lose what we had.” He wanted to. Two hands ensnared his body. It was like being squeezed by a vice. “You’ll never be rid of me.” Flash threw off the covers and got out of bed. He pulled on what clothes he could and grabbed the doorknob to his bedroom. He stopped just short of turning it as he noticed the rest of the area around him. It was definitely his room. Punk rock posters, a red motif, and all the kinds of things a guy his age would have… even if that age felt very much in question as time wore on. But where he expected solid objects were instead cheap cardboard substitutes. Flimsy standees meant to look like what his room was. How had he never noticed before? He stepped outside into the burg. A cul-de-sac that fed into a road that stretched infinitely toward the horizon. Eight houses, each themed after their owner, were arranged evenly around the dead end circle. Painted cardboard held up by pitiful stands of weak paper. Plastered on several of the standees were more campaign posters. ‘Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^ for help’. He refused. “Where’s your girlfriend?” Moondancer stood nearby, a bored expression on her face and a book in one hand. “I don’t know…” Flash said, then louder, “I don’t know!” “...You should find her then,” Moondancer stated. “And how do I do that?” She jerked her head toward something behind him. He looked in the indicated direction to find a metal stop sign. “A town entirely of cardboard. A single post made of metal,” Moondancer remarked. “Does that give you any ideas?” Flash grabbed the pole with both hands and braced. He pulled. And pulled. And pulled. It popped out of the ground, nearly unbalancing him. He hefted it over one shoulder. “Let me know if you find anything,” Moondancer said. “Might be the only way out.” Then Flash took off. Those stupid houses? Smashed. Those stupid fences? Smashed. Those stupid shrubs? Smashed. Structure after structure fell to Flash’s stop sign of destruction. It felt great, smashing everything to pieces without a care in the world. Even though his body ached and his hands felt raw from clutching the signpost too hard, he still kept breaking everything in his way. He needed to. It was the only thing left for him to do. Bursts of laughter bubbled out of him each time he smashed something. The neighbourhood. The school. That stupid auditorium. That even stupider bar. Nothing was left standing. All of it would succumb to Flash. It made the hurt lessen. Rage filled the gaps. Elation from cathartic release kept him going long past when he should have stopped. Eventually, nothing was left. A void of white in every direction. The Cardboard Town reduced to nothing. He dropped to his knees, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He took ragged breaths. His face felt stretched from smiling too hard. One of Celestia’s posters was on the ground in front of him. ‘Call ?#$-^&*-@#!^, Flash.’ Flash had never felt a need to call before. Never wanted to. Inexplicably, he found himself pulling his phone out of his pocket, dialing the number and bringing the speaker to his ear. Ring. Ring. Click. “It was never about you, Flash.” He let his phone hand drop, hanging loosely next to him. “What’s the question, Flash?” He looked up into Timber’s neutral face. “...Is it my fault?” He asked. “No,” Timber said. “It was always hers.” Flash hiccupped. A bubble of emotion that finally broke him. He was crying. Snot and tears ran down his face. He wailed because it was all he was capable of doing in the moment. Timber kneeled down. He held Flash tight against him. He weathered the hurt to let it heal.
AGotHer Lively DAv eN the NeighbourhooD“What is this place?” Flash sniffled, rubbing snot away with a sleeve. “Not really sure. Moondancer probably knows though,” Timber answered. Flash regarded the rubble of his rampage. Most of it was slowly dissolving into sludge and disappearing into the void. “So, we just live in an empty void now?” Flash asked. “Nah. This is just your section,” Timber said. “Besides, the hands will fix it eventually.” “The what?” “Hands.” Timber pointed into the distance. Looking in the indicated direction, Flash watched as white wooden hands dropped set pieces into the void. Scenic vistas of rolling hills and blue skies painted with white fluffy clouds forming what would become the horizon of the town. It was bizarre and off putting. “Should I be more bothered by this?” Flash asked. “I really feel like I should be freaking out right now.” Silence. “Timber?” “...Let’s leave Cardboard Town then. We can’t stay here for long anyways with the hands doing repairs.” “Cardboard Town? What’s that?” “Your part of the Neighbourhood.” “...The Neighbourhood?” “Later. It’ll make sense… eventually. For now, we need to leave. Follow Me.” Timber walked off. Flash scrambled to catch up with him. “What’s the rush? Didn’t you say the hands are fixing everything?” “Yeah, including you.” “Me? Why would they try to fix me?” Flash paused. “Okay, besides the obvious.” “There’s nothing wrong with you, Flash… but the hands don’t like us being aware of things. Try not to pass out.” “Wha—” Timber grabbed Flash’s hand and pulled him roughly forward. One blink and he was surrounded by a multitude of colour. A tower in the distance. Eight spheres of varied locales surrounded it. They floated between. Moving away from a wrecked cardboard town to a forest of clay. A second blink and they were in the woods. Sort of. Trees towered over them heavily laden with leaves and silent birds. Strands of sunlight came from above and embedded in the ground. All of it was made up of the same material. Flash pressed a hand into a tree. It gave, imprinting his handprint into the ‘bark’. “Camp Clay was literal?” Flash asked. “Yeah.” Timber hummed to himself, a finger underneath his chin and face scrunched up in thought. It looked cute. “How much do you know right now?” In lieu of a proper response, Flash kissed Timber on the lips. He went deep and hard, leaning into the contact. Flash felt Timber melt into him. Too soon, Flash pulled back. Timber was flushed. “We’re together,” Flash stated. “Yeah and—!” “That’s all I got.” “You—” Timber paused. “Wait, you just kissed me when you barely remember anything. Even if it’s you, how can you be so nonchalant about this?!” Flash shrugged. “You are—!” Timber sighed “Okay, I don’t know what I was expecting. Is that all you got?” “We’re together. Something happened that has to do with… something. I know who the other six trapped in here with us are. And of course, I know about—” Flash looked askance “—My relationship with $%^!#&*(%^?!.” Flash scowled. “$%^!#&*(%^?!. What? Why can’t I say her name?” “$%^!#&*(%^?!.” Flash stomped his foot down. “$%^!#&*(%^?!.” He growled. “$%^!#&*(%^?!!” “Unfortunately, several key people have been censored. Your exe $%^!#&*(%^?! as well as UXJMJHU and !!!!.” Timber shrugged. “I don’t know why the thing that put us here did that.” “Right, speaking of, we should talk about that. What exactly is the thing?” “I don’t know a lot about it. Too many resets, but I know some things.” Timber sat down on a nearby log. “Take a seat.” He patted the spot next to him. “This is gonna take a while.” Flash sat in the indicated spot. “So.” Timber leaned back with a sigh, gazing up at the plasticine sky. “It started at the homecoming party a few years after high school graduation.”
October 10th, 20XX: Homecoming“Bulk is missing.” Timber looked at Moondancer. She had said it so bluntly and dry that he wondered if it was a joke. “How do you know?” He asked. “I met with him yesterday.” Moondancer adjusted her glasses, the glint off the sunlight hiding her eyes from sight. “Then he disappeared right in front of me.” “...How?” “He was there and then he wasn’t.” “Okay, but—” “I don’t know how to explain it better than I already have. He’s just gone.” Moondancer clenched her fists. “Though I can’t confirm it, his disappearance might be because of… that.” Dread. An instinctual fear. “It can’t be.” Timber tried to force the trembling out of his limbs. “That wasn’t real. It was just some dumb late middle school stuff. A-a mass hallucination!” “That came true,” Moondancer replied. “You more than any of us should be the last one to deny it. How else could your, at the time, underage sister manage to get full property rights for Camp Everfree away from Filthy Rich?” “It was hereditary!” “Then it should have been held onto by a legal guardian until she came of age. Instead, you were given full operational rights immediately. That’s unheard of.” Moondancer glared into the sidewalk, frowning intently. “We all made wishes, Timber. We all got what we wanted from them. We’re just paying a delayed price.” “It still doesn’t mean that thing is back. Bulk might have just run off! You know he gets antsy when he’s in one place for too long.” “...When was the last time you heard from Flash?” “...Two days ago,” Timber replied. “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s a on the road a lot and busy—” “So busy, he can’t get back to you?” Moondancer affixed Timber with a look. Timber had no response. “...Bon Bon contacted me to say that Lyra is missing. I can’t get a hold of Vinyl. Nor Trixie, and you know she’s always hoping for a call from any of us.” Moondancer stood up. “I feel it relevant that everyone seems to disappear in the order we made those wishes. That means I’m next, then you and finally Bon Bon.” “What do you expect me to do about it?” Timber asked, defeated. “Find a miracle. Barring that, maybe tell your sister you love her.” A moment of silence. “...Good luck, Timber,” Moondancer said. Timber watched her leave. Then she disappeared. It was so sudden. He jumped to his feet. She had been right there then just… wasn’t. It was so strange that Timber almost didn’t believe it had happened even though he had just seen it. He had no idea how to avoid ending up just like her. Acting fast, Timber pulled out his phone and brought up his ongoing chat with his sister. He typed out a message quickly. Hands came down on him. Then Timber disappeared. The message on his phone stayed unsent.
A Bmaetimol Morring At CaypFlash found himself in the clay version of Camp Everfree. A continuation of the forest with every detail down to individual blades of grass formed from clay-like materials. It was an idealistic version of the camp with vignettes of various scenes and people around camp, some even overlapping each other. On the outer edges, closer to the woods, were the shadows of groping hands, probing the edges of the light. However, Timber seemed unconcerned about them, so Flash presumed they weren’t dangerous. Hopefully. Besides that, his mind was more focused on an obvious frequent guest in most of the vignettes. “Why am I in most of these?” Flash asked. “They’re my memories. Important ones. Of course, you’re in most of them,” Timber answered nonchalantly. One vignette caught Flash’s attention. A boat washed ashore. Inside were Flash and Timber, holding hands as they looked up at the starry night sky above. “Wouldn’t it be fun to just float away right now?” “And get stranded? No thanks!” “Aw, not like that. Just like, you know, drifting away to fulfill our dreams?” “What?!” “Well, we’re stuck here, but we could let the boat take us beyond the boundaries in our imaginations to the place we want to be.” “You’re not making any sense, Flash. It’s an enclosed lake.” “You’re really unromantic, you know that?” “One of us needs to be the practical one in this relationship.” “This was just after you started college,” Flash remarked. “Online courses for environmental studies.” Timber walked up next to him. Flash held Timber’s hand in his. “That whole program was annoying.” “And you were feeling lonely, right? Since you were just always at the Camp studying or working?” “Yeah… but you came by a lot. Couldn’t feel lonely with my boyfriend always hanging around.” Flash squeezed Timber’s hand. He squeezed back. He noticed a different scene out of the corner of his eye. They were both at the end of the dock, younger, legs dangling over the surface of the water. From their appearance this was just near the end of high school… when Flash had just broken up with his exe. He walked toward it, pulling Timber with him. Timber followed. “It’s my fault.” “No! Flash, it isn’t—” “But I let her! So it has to be because of me!” “Flash, no. She’s a monster who was using you. You did nothing wrong.” “But I—” “No buts. She’s gone, you don’t have to deal with her anymore.” “But what if I go back to her? What if—” “You won’t. Because I’ll be here to talk you out of it.” “...Thanks for being here, Timber.” “Always.” “We drifted apart in high school when Gloriosa needed you at the camp more, but got closer because of our past relationship with Sunset and SVHKHFGS,” Flash said. “To the point where it just felt like old times. Kind of inevitable that we’d end up together.” “Yeah,” Timber said. “Though it took a while since I had no idea if you liked guys or not.” “I wasn’t exactly making it hard considering the comments I was throwing your way whenever we used the camp showers.” “Fine, it took a while because I’m dense.” “No more than me.” They both laughed. As they ebbed into giggles, a question came to Flash’s mind. “So, what’s your goal now?” Flash asked. “What do you mean?” Timber replied. “You pulled me out of Cardboard Town. You told me how we disappeared even if I still don’t remember ‘that’. We’re reminiscing down memory lane so I can remember more about us, I guess? What’s next?” “Nothing.” “What do you mean? We’re gonna try and escape, right?” Timber didn’t respond. “...Right?” “...This isn’t the first time we’ve done this. Moondancer and I for some reason are the only ones that consistently remember how we got here and know what this place is. Moondancer is still trying to find a way out—” Timber squeezed Flash’s hand tightly “—I just want to be with you.” “Sooo, what? We just… stay in Camp? Hang out in this weird fake place and just live our lives as best we can?” “Yeah, basically.” “...Timber, that’s not really what you want. Is it?” In lieu of a response, Timber pulled Flash toward the woods. Though reluctant, Flash allowed himself to be guided.
Wai!t!i!n!g F!o!r t!he! !He!ro To !S!uddenly App!e!a!r!Timber stared at his phone. Waiting. He was supposed to call him. He hadn’t yet. Pacing. A worn stretch of hardwood by the kitchen. A modest apartment for two boyfriends on a limited income. Photos of friends and family plastered on worn brick with old furniture bought second hand taking up too much space. They should probably replace most of this. Their careers made them enough money. But he wanted to do it together and Flash wasn’t there. Another check. No new messages. Still no call. The pacing resumed. It was fine. Flash was busy. He was on the road. Timber knew this. He knew it wasn’t neglectfulness or unwillingness, it was just finding the time. There was only so much between playing at his gigs, dealing with the fans, and getting to the venues in one piece. Not to mention basic necessities like eating and working out enough to ensure he fit into any of his clothes. These were all standard struggles for a traveling musician who was just starting to make their mark. They had a designated call window. Every day. But sometimes, Flash missed it. He was just a little too scatterbrained and a little too tired all the time to hit the mark every time. Especially when Flash thought everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. Timber flopped onto the couch, hands covering his face. He had work tomorrow. It was late and he should be getting ready for bed. He was probably too busy to get to the phone, so they wouldn’t be talking that night. Even so, Timber wanted to put off sleep as long as possible. He hated an empty bed. Sure, it was fine the first few days Flash was gone. It still smelled like him, no matter how much Flash bathed. It was obnoxiously hot because his boyfriend’s internal temperature ran at volcano and would linger for far too long. Eventually though, the smells faded, the heat left and then Timber was left with a twin bed that felt too large. It was loneliness. He knew that. It eroded him from the inside out. It went away when Flash was here, but came back with a vengeance when he wasn’t. He should talk about it with him, do something, but he couldn’t. Because of his exe. That clingy harlot. It was one of her tactics. Use their loneliness against them. If he brought it up with Flash, that would mean he was just like her. Then Flash would know that he shouldn’t stay with him. Because he’d grown and knew to treat himself better. Timber was so proud of him. Timber was so afraid Flash would leave him. His friends had moved on. His only family was too busy. Acquaintances were difficult to find. He just had work and several hobbies he didn’t feel like doing. He needed Flash to be here… but he was happy out on the road. So happy that he could follow his passions. So happy that he could move on from her. So happy that he got to fulfill his dreams. Who was Timber to take that away from him? Ring. Rin— Timber practically jumped to answer the phone. “Hey, babe! We just reached the new venue and I know it's later than our usual time, but just wanted to make sure I said I love you before bed!” With just a few words, all the horrid feelings drained out of him. Tears of relief fell from his face. “Love you too.”
September 7th, 19XX: WishFlash took a step then looked back. His friends looked at him with a mix of exasperation and support. “Do I have to?” Flash asked. “It grants wishes, Flash!” Trixie retorted. “Don’t you want your wish granted?” “But what if—” “Oh, come on!” Trixie threw her hands up. “How can you not be jumping all over this?!” “It’s important to know for scientific purposes.” Moondancer adjusted her too big glasses. “And for the supernatural phenomenon!” Lyra exclaimed. “Don’t be a wuss!” Bon Bon added. “Yeah!” Bulk cried out. Vinyl gave him a thumbs up. He looked at Timber. He kicked at a few pebbles on the cracked road. “What do you think I should do?” Flash asked. Timber scowled. “A bunch of us already made wishes.” He jerked his thumb toward the others. “Only fair that we keep going. Besides, who wouldn’t want their wish granted?” Flash nodded, still reluctant. He returned his attention to the wishing shrine. A small wood structure worn down by time and weather found deep within the Everfree protected by a cracked stone ceiling and tall trees. A box with a slot whose once bright colours had faded into nearly nothing. Mounted on the back wall above it was the twisted face of a monkey surrounded by hundreds of carved wooden hands arranged in a perfect circle. He glanced at his slip of paper. ‘I wish for someone to love me.’ He gulped. It was something he’d always wanted. A girlfriend since that was what dad had said he should have between drinks. There weren’t any other proposed options— He glanced at Timber out of the corner of his eye —and he didn’t want to go through high school without a partner to love him. “Today, Flash!” Taking the last few steps, he approached the shrine, dread building up inside of him. He could feel the mask boring into him, watching his every move. The natural sound of the woods made it almost feel like the decoration was breathing heavily at him in anticipation. Flash folded the slip neatly in half and slid it into the slot. He waited. Nothing happened. “Did you do it?!” “Yeah!” He called back. “Awesome! Now, come on! Let’s go play by the lake then tomorrow we’ll come back to make more. “This shrine is the best thing ever!”
