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Gummy Bears

Summary:

Behind my closed eyes, I could hear their voices in my head one last time.

"I know my cooking is awful but if I'm gone, it will be the most delicious thing you've ever tasted."

And so it really was, Arthur.

"You’re going to regret not playing Call of Duty with me."

And so you're right, Alfred.

They made my fleeting life worthwhile.

And not one second was ever wasted.

Notes:

I'm feeling things. I'm feeling sad things. My dad smokes and just this summer, I heard from him that he is actually trying to quit. Please don't smoke.

I DEDICATE THIS WORK TO @HetaliaIsCool! Thank you so much for that suggestion (ㆁωㆁ*), here's the promised sequel/s.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ
i think you were in my profile picture once - modern baseball

━━━━◉───────
◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹

ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı

 

"You really need to quit.” 

Eh?” 

If Alfred knew you smoke, you’re fucked.” Natalya leaned closer and chuckled. I scoffed, puffing out smoke.

"That’s no reason to quit," I said. I saw Arthur hold back a chuckle at my reply, even with his back turned away. He held his own cigarette between his fingers, which I assume was his first one for today. 

In perspective, Arthur was the one least likely to quit, although it was ironically him who was the only one actually trying to.

"I think Nat's just concerned about your "good boy" image going on, Matthew." I can tell he was smiling from where he was. "I mean, you're the one with the cleanest criminal record."

"Hey!" I protested. "I got arrested once!"

"From what, Matthieu?" Francis chimed from the end of the bridge, "Stealing a candy bar from a convenience store?"

He cheered with the other two idiots he calls his friends. They had their own sort of drug exchange poker going on over there and we three would rather stick to the smokes. I rolled my eyes. 

"Oh, it wasn’t me trying to steal a candy bar right now, Francis." Arthur snorted in laughter. 

"Got me there, Matthieu—Oops, Four of a Kind! I win~!" He smirked, pushing all gummy worm bets to his side. We watched as he muttered to himself in French.

"Did you just insult us? In Frog? You know we don't do that, compadre!" Antonio asked curiously and suspiciously. He started cracking his knuckles as Francis tried explained himself.

I raised an amused brow. As we watched the three bicker, my cigarette fell out of my grip as I forgot of its cancerous existence. I leaned close to Natalya in dismay—I wasted it. She took a deep breath, already holding out her pack for me to light another one. I kindly refused.

Antonio started tackling Francis to the ground as Gilbert cheers them on, slyly pocketing some of Francis' prize candy.

I decided to let them be. After all, we were here to celebrate (through smoking, maybe?) the fact that neither Francis, Antonio, Gilbert or Alfred were seriously injured at a car accident that happened last Friday. The three were passed out drunk while Alfred drove. He was somehow conscious after the wreck; calling the emergency services and providing the police report. The other three were lucky to survive with no major injury, just a major hangover. Antonio's car was now wrecked, though. I hope it was insured. 

"We all had a deal of not using foreign languages when we're together!" Antonio growled, pulling me out of my daze. 

"Non! Va te faire cuire un œuf!" Francis tried to defend both himself and the gummy worms from Antonio's attacks. Arthur missed the trashcan as he threw his cigarette away. Gilbert's chuckling stopped.

"Œuf? You called Antonio an egg?!" And so the chuckling returned with much more vigor. 

We could only divert our attention; we don't want to involve ourselves in their "candy" business, especially if they’re knocked; I believe I saw Antonio smoking something earlier. They have the guts to get high; they were just released from the hospital for heaven's sake!

Footsteps sounded from the other end of the bridge, opposite of where the trio were. Natalya, Arthur and I turned to see blond hair and cellphone light. Alfred appeared and walked closer absentmindedly, busy on scrolling down on his phone. He suddenly stopped just in front of me, pausing to look at me as if I had a new face.

"Is that you, Matt?" he asked, pointing his cellphone light to my face, "You smell like cigarettes..."

Snickers erupted from the end of the bridge. Alfred glanced at them curiously and back to me.

"You....Do you smoke, Matt?" He looked at me, to my empty hands, back to me. I grinned at him. 

Natalya, despite her early statement, grabbed her pack and offered me one. 

"Yep," I answered as I lit the offered cigarette.

"Been waiting for you, Al." Natalya lit her own as well and I could see smoke from behind Alfred as well, near Arthur who is oddly silent. Alfred's jaw dropped and looked at everyone feeling so attacked. 

"Am I the only person whose lungs are still healthy in here?" he asked sarcastically, tone filled with betrayal and disbelief. Gilbert's snickering turned into a full-fledged obnoxious laughter, to the point he rolled on the grass. "Haha, very funny--stop fucking laughing Gil!

"Tch, you're a secondhand smoker, mon ami. You're lungs aren't healthy either," Francis answered, slowly hiding his gummy worms while Antonio was temporarily distracted. 

Welcome to black lungs club, Al.” Natalya got herself another stick before keeping the rest. I watched as she grabbed Alfred's fist and opened it, placing the cigarette between his fingers. He looked at it as if it was a tarantula, but didn't let it go either way.

As Natalya gave Alfred a lighter and he lit his first cigarette (that we know of), I saw Arthur stare at Alfred as if he was in deep thought. I had always known that those two had issues with each other, but they were just starting to warm up to each other nowadays. 

I hope they get along soon. 

My attention was brought back to Alfred when he suddenly hacked and almost fell down the bridge. Natalya laughed, grabbing his jacket before he actually fell. Alfred threw his cigarette down to the stream and cursed Natalya, me, those three whose laughter erupted even louder, and the concept of smoking in general. I could only join in the laughter, and look up to the sky. 

I could get used to this for the rest of my life.


Natalya went closer, only to stop right where Gil was. The albino was checking the wheels of his old skateboard at the gutter. 

"Hey candy kingpin. Quit flirting with the skateboard, would you?” 

Gil looked up, squinting at the Russian and the blue sky above her. He held his red lollipop out his mouth to answer. "Oh it’s you. What?"

"Usual."

"Oooh, right." Gil nodded as he remembered. I watched as he dug at one of his many pockets and held out a bag full of gummy bears. Natalya grabbed it quickly and handed him some cash, before turning to us and sitting down beside me. I closed my book and stared at her. 

"Gilbert sells candy?" I asked. 

If Nat eats it, it is probably safe. I can't believe it doesn't actually have drugs on it. She nodded, crossing her ankles over the grass and fishing out her phone from her pocket. 

"For years now, Matt. Do you want some?" She offered the bag to me and Alfred, who is silently listening to music beside us. 

I kindly grabbed a few bears while Alfred refused. Saying my thanks, I held up the squishy gelatin bear between my fingers. Straight ahead, Gil kept checking his skateboard's wheels. His face was wrinkled, his bottom lip bitten as he concentrated and the lollipop he was sucking on hollowed out his pale cheeks. His long bony fingers held the screwdriver and I could only take a deep breath and gather all my courage. I popped one bear in my mouth.

"I'm going to buy some of my own," I said, receiving a casual thumbs up from Nat. As I approached, Gil gasped in discovery as he fished out some tool and fixed his skateboard wheels.

"Uhm, hey." I sat beside him on the gutter, the bears visible on my palm.

"No sour belts available," he replied without hesitation. He then looked up and upon recognizing me, he smiled widely. "Oh hey! What special service can I offer you today?"

I furrowed my eyebrows in embarassment. Good Lord help me, he can't just say that! "What?

Stay focused, Matthew. 

"I just want to ask about your deal with..uh, with candy. You sell them?"

He paused before nodding, digging out in one of his pockets and taking out a red lollipop. "Yup, for additional income. I'm lucky I had many friends with sweet tooth....err, teeth?

He handed me the lollipop before winking. 

Fuck... 

"H-How come I wasn't aware of this?" I asked, keeping the lollipop on my pocket. He looked at me with wide eyes before shrugging.

"I thought you already knew. Arthur gets the lollipops from me and Nat is my local gummy bear addict. The two suck on to the hard candy," he said. 

I finally knew why Francis had an abundance of rose shaped candy I haven't seen in any store before. An awkward atmosphere settled over us as silence entered the conversation, filling my guts with dread. Say something, Matt! 

"I-I actually wanted to buy some!" I literally yelled.

Oh shit. That came out louder than intended. 

"Wait, really? Which one?" Gilbert paused, letting go of the skateboard and jumping out to reach for it before it rolls away. I smiled nervously in reply. I didn't know what he exactly sells. He seemed really happy. He looks cooler when he grins- 

"I have gummies, mints, chocolate, gum and hard candy with me right now." It took me a few seconds to realize he was staring at me, waiting for a reply. 

Oh- "I-uh...Do you have more bears?" I asked quietly. I suddenly heard chuckling.

"Woah, so you're the gummy type?" he smiled as he dug deep onto his pockets. 

"What's that supposed to mean?

"It means you're cute...like a bear." He stared at me, pressing on the middle of my forehead. His red eyes merely scanned over me and I almost died. 

Good heavens, please help me. 

"How...much? Is this?" I could barely notice the candy on my palms. 

He almost refused my payment but I insisted before he could say anything. I closed his palm onto the cash before I realized I was holding his hand. I retreated and avoided eye contact before he could even react.

Oh hell, what just happened? I definitely need to smoke with Nat later tonight to relieve some tension. Before I could wallow in more panic, his rough voice broke my train of thought. 

"Hey, Matt." He looked forward, to the woods across the road. "I'll really miss you over the break."

"I...could say the same, Gil." I shifted awkwardly.

"You going back to France? Like, over the break?" he asked, sucking on his lollipop. I paused. What? 

"I live in Canada." I furrowed my brows, frowning. It’s not like I’m not used to being mistaken for things. Growing up and moving a lot during childhood—Paris to Geneva to Paris to Vancouver to Quebec—you get really used to being alone in your existence- 

"I don't care, you would be a German someday anyway."

Wait, what? 

"I....Gil, thank...you? What? I—" I stood, giving up and just using my hair to cover up my heating face. He bursted into laughter, standing up and going after me.

"Take care, Birdie." He caught my hoodie and pulled me around, surrounding me in a hug.

I was surrounded in his warmth and in just a few seconds, I feel like I'm not alone. Like I'm not judged for the bad things I'd done. My life could be summed up in all the group of friends I made and left everytime we moved, and I've never felt so alone and judged all my life. 

That hug seemed to last for eternity. Gilbert was so warm yet his appearance seemed cold. He was just a friend I met through Francis, but he had been with me through loneliness. He smiles and I suddenly feel like I’ve been happy my whole life. 

The sad thing is that I could still say I have friends, just not permanent ones. All I wanted was an open mind, open heart and open ears. God damn it all because Gil had been here with open arms. 

From the loud sounds I could hear from his earphone as we hugged, I could hear a camera shutter go off. We broke apart to see Nat's phone aimed at us.

"This is going in the yearbook," she said. I could tell she's smirking. "When’s the wedding?” 


I grabbed my wallet and keys before storming outside. It was a few days before the semestral break and I still don't know whether to come home to Quebec or not. My mother haven't replied to my text and I don't want to risk travelling back just to meet a locked door. 

Not like it was a problem—I could always sleep over at Alfred's anyway. He had that one guestroom he used to reserve for Arthur in highschool, and until now I bet it still smells like Arthur's weird cologne.

I approached the cafeteria and was immediately met by the usual groggy students eating their breakfast. I spotted Arthur and Francis near the window and got curious.

"Hey!" I greeted, sitting down across the two and opening my sandwhich. "Where's everyone? I thought we're all eating together."

Arthur showed his phone, speechless. Natalya appeared in the screen, waving all the way from Russia. I waved back and smiled, not failing to notice how everyone felt so...empty. 

The third year just started and it was much more different than before. Natalya and Antonio dropped out because of financial issues. At least, that's what they told us. I know how the Carriedo family is quite problematic and that the car is in fact insured. It didn’t help our suspicion when we saw job applications in Antonio's backpack. 

They always call and keep in touch, though. We met Ivan and Katyusha, as well as Nana Carriedo from whom we found out the nickname "Antonions" because of their onion farm. 

Looking at the empty table and the tired silence that hung over, I couldn’t help but wish everything was back to as they were last year. Everyone was happy last year! 

Where’s Gil and Al?” 

Francis took a bite out of his bread and swallowed. "At Alfred's dorm, either busy or asleep."

Or drinking their fucking lives away, you never know.” Arthur mumbled before looking away, halfway done on his cafeteria soup. I don't get how people can stomach those stuff. 

I took a deep breath and started chewing on my sandwhich. "What happened to those two?" I wondered aloud. 

Francis glanced, blinking. "Which two?"

"Al and Gilbert.

I glanced at the clock before frowning. My first class won't start for another thirty minutes, and the two haven’t went down for breakfast yet. 

"Alfred had been sulking lately, don't you guys notice? I mean, he said he's busy but there is no more work to do, is there?"

Francis took a break and leaned back, dropping his usual cheerful face. "I notice too. I bet everyone does."

"He only sulks like that if he's really, really upset," I said.

I knew Alfred. He doesn't just sulk. I saw him when he lost his father, and when he lost his huge baseball game. I saw him fail multiple subjects and get beaten up at the back of school every afternoon. And after all that, he always stands up and faces his problems head on. So what could be the reason for his sulking now? Did someone die? 

I want him to tell us. We're his friends, right?

Right?

Arthur broke the silence by excusing himself to use the restroom. As soon as he disappeared across the cafeteria, Francis suddenly leaned close and placed my bread back down. 

"What the maple-"

"I think he's upset at Arthur. Arthur becomes oddly silent if it’s about Al, you notice? Those two had always been sneering at each other ever since we all met," he said. As if on cue, a thunder rolled at the end of his sentence as if to punctuate it. 

"Or more like eye-fucking each other, ja?"

Out of nowhere, a hand came from the side that braced over my shoulders. Gilbert grinned and suddenly took a bite out of my sandwhich. I tried not to think about his hand that touched me.

"Where were you?" Francis asked. There were droplet stains on Gil's jacket, possibly from the upcoming rain. The only thing different is that he actually smelled nice today...or is it just me?

He suddenly returned my gaze and I realized I was staring for too long. I quickly averted my gaze and continued on chewing my sandwich.

"I spent the night at Alfred's, watching Netflix all day, y'know the usual.

Arthur returned as we all chewed down on our food. He sat back down and went back on scrolling down his phone again. He was acting quiet lately, Francis was right. 

The rain started to pour slightly heavier outside. Gilbert broke my train of thought when he choked on the bread as he remembered something. "Oh! I heard Alfred texted Ivan--"

Arthur suddenly shot up from his seat and walked away to the direction of the classroom building. Francis and I watched in shock while Gilbert started to chuckle, earning him a glare from Francis. He then leaned over to whisper, all away from my earshot, and Francis's glare turned into an understanding glance.

"Alright, I didn't know that would work so well."

Francis finished his breakfast and patted Gilbert on the back before glaring again. "If it involves my cousin, I'd say you have a 50-50 chance but alright, I'll leave.

He then carried the empty trays away, leaving me and Gil alone. Confusion washed over me like wildfire, and I am honestly feeling so attacked that I didn't get whatever joke this is. 

"Uh, what just happened?"

Gil took a deep breath, dropping his façade. He leaned closer and spoke lowly. "Okay, look. Al may need serious help. Same thing for Arthur too. Their issues are getting out of hand and I think they need to quit their shit like real soon."

I paused in recognition. I once told the others to keep an eye out for our little alcoholic and our little chainsmoker. We all agreed that it’s getting way too destructive. 

So this was what it was about. 

"I get why you made Arthur leave, but why Francis? Isn't he on this too?

Don't get me wrong, I myself indulges in my own vices but not as often as they do. Out of all of us, Gil was the first one to notice.

Of course he was.

Uh, no?” 

What?” 

"Look, I'm sorry but Francis is the worst liar in the world! If Arthur asks him, he will answer right off the bat." He took another bite, sipped coke, then another bite. He pouted by himself, as if to apologize. “I told him I’m asking you out so he’d leave.” 

Oh?

"I actually don't mind your excuse," I said as I emptied my milk box. I could see him smile at the edges of my sight. 

Let’s make that excuse...happen?” I smiled back. 


For some reason, my mother only replied to my text on the actual moving day. She and Dad had some issues with their phones overseas, the house was locked, and they told me to either get an Airbnb or sleep over at a friend’s house for a while. 

They never knew of Alfred. 

We graduated a while ago and it was one of the best days in my life. Then one week later, it wasn't like that anymore, just like that. It will never be like that again.

We got Natalya and Antonio from the airport the other week; it was fun. Antonio himself graduated and finished his degree, and proudly participated in our photos holding up his own diploma. 

He returned the happiest, and went back to Portugal the saddest. 

Natalya, on the other hand, was pulled back to her family's house and opened a pastry shop. When she went back, she got drunk with us on graduation night. 

That leaves us all back now. As if it didn't hurt enough, seven became five...and five became three.

"Matt..."

"....Yes, Gil?" I asked.

I blinked, focusing on his reflection on the window instead of the calming drizzle outside. I sighed, closing the blinds and leaning to my pillow. 

He stood there, still in his homo-inspired hairstyle and shining red eyes. The suit he borrowed somewhere fit perfectly. He was just the type to be secretly prefer the softer things in life, and when he speaks I knew the sun would shine. He glanced at me and sat beside me on the bed.

"What are you doing-"

He placed a hand on my cheek, and looked at me as if it was the first time he saw me. He didn't crack his ridiculous smile nor mutter a joke, and it breaks my heart how the sudden deaths were too much to bear.

"I love you so much, you know that." I took a deep breath and leaned on him, and before I knew it, I was numb again. 

Francis would pick us up, soon. Only the three of us would attend. There shouldn’t even be a funeral to attend in the first place. Why does it have to be this way? 

Matt, I—I’m sorry, I just-“ he stuttered, his voice cracking, “I just can’t.” 

I felt his hands wrap around me and I could feel my shirt get wet with his tears. Is it our fault? Is this our punishment for all the bad things we had ever done?

I still remember that week as if it were yesterday. We were all drunk in Francis's house. With Natalya and Antonio's surprise returns on graduation night came an urge to celebrate the end of our academic suffering. 

The next day, we listened to the radio with massive hangovers. Two bodies were found at the river near campus by some local. We went by that morning and noticed two of us were also missing. Names were finally placed on the bodies and life stopped.

Alfred's mom and stepdad went to the hospital, obviously coming in a rush. I was there when I saw her identify the body and hug the corpse and beg for it to come back alive. I was there when the police saw his things gone and shipped to Sweden, where his father currently lives. I was there when a letter was found, with Alfred saying he wanted to be cremated and brought to Sweden if ever his body is retrieved. 

The same heartbreaking sight repeated when Arthur's family went in. His mom cannot believe it, his eldest brother stared and together sat quietly with the police without noticing their own tears. I even saw his 5-year-old brother stare at the body silently before patting Arthur’s cold face to wake him up. His father stayed outside punching the walls.

The thing is, we noticed everything. We knew Alfred’s drinking day and night. We knew Arthur’s lungs were rotting. We knew it was starting to get serious. We fucking knew. To the heavens up there: why Arthur? Why Alfred? Why can't it just be me?

I pulled away, realizing I got his suit wet. The two of us were to visit someone today. 

It wasn't Alfred or Arthur, though. The police had finalized they killed each other, and I had to go back to Quebec when mom went home. We all got told to come to the memorial service, but we all left. I don’t think we would still come even if we stayed there. It was just too heavy. 

But it wasn't me who had the heaviest burden to bear.

It was Gilbert. I suddenly felt his shoulders shake, and at that moment I knew he was crying as well. 

Gil doesn’t deserve this. I may have, I admit. But Gil didn’t do anything but look after everyone. 

Was that not enough? 

Alfred’s dead. Arthur’s dead. What the fuck are we supposed to do with that? 

If we just knew, we should have stopped them. I should have stayed even if Alfred tries to push me away. I should have been with Arthur and show him the world I wanted him and Alfred to love.

But I can’t cry. I can’t afford to let myself feel the weight now. Gil needs a standing ground. 

The thing is, I am used to leaving people and places, so why is it so painful to walk forward this time? Who can blame me if that time is still not enough? Why does it have to be those whose souls were pure? I never had anything permanent in my life, do they even realize how dangerous it is to finally have something worth fighting for?

We suddenly heard car horns outside. I held Gil and he held me as we step outside and meet Francis, who looked just as broken as we are. He never said anything and just drove. 

I couldn't find it in me to cry anymore. It was ironic; I had always been crying my whole life. Why can't I cry now? Why does it feel so numb? 

It was just a week ago that I held Alfred's hand in prayer, and sat side by side with Arthur and they were so warm it surprised me. It was Alfred who I played videogames with since highschool. It was Arthur who showed me the art of literature. They taught me how sweet it is to find people who will accept you unconditionally that even worlds couldn't separate them.

And it was just so unfair

The car finally stopped. It wasn't raining—though I wished it was—it was just unnaturally windy. Francis glanced at us before moving forward on his own. Gil and I were left alone in front of the arch entrance, the wind blowing on our faces.

"We are not ready for this, Matt."

I could only stare ahead. I didn't feel anything, I only felt like I would suffocate. 

"I understand." I saw him glance at me and offer his hand. I merely looked at it before shaking my head. I summoned all it took in my guts to force a chuckle. "Don't be so affectionate, we just broke up."

"Matt, please?"

I started walking and nodded my head towards the inside. He followed and stayed to my left, and it was me who reached for his arm first. He had always felt so warm, but we both agreed that we needed time to heal. If ever time doesn't permit our return to one another, then fuck time and so be it.

We reached the tent. The burial proceeded yesterday but neither of us three attended. We cannot find it in ourselves to watch another soul go down.

Gabriel Beilschmidt

August 6, 2006 - November 5, 2019

'Til We Meet Again.

Gilbert leaned down to trace his brother's name on the stone, and I felt my heart ache when I heard his voice crack as he started to sob.

This kid once told me something about souls. He had been in and out of hospital ever since he was young, and one of his wishes was to be with his brother—even if that meant he had to move with him to the States and leave his friends in Germany. I asked him why he went to such great lengths. He told me, right there on the bed, that it was because his brother is the only pure soul in the world. 

And I agree, very, very much. This kid was much like me, who never had anything worth it in life just before the end. He knows acceptance and love because that's all he ever had. He was a moment in time I will never forget, and I could feel just how important the brothers were to one another.

Somehow I find that perhaps Alfred and Arthur were just halves of one soul as well. 

Was it wrong to even think about being angry at a dead person? To a soul without a physical form? I wanted to be angry, but particularly to anyone. More like to everything. I want to be angry at the heavens, and to them. 

Either way, I can't. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I loved them as my own family and now they're just...gone. Even Gabriel.

If I were to say one last thing to them, it would be, "You never die for your friends, you live for them!" but I still couldn't do it. I just wanted them to be back. I want to see Gabriel smiling at Gil's voice impressions. I want to hear Alfred's colorful curse words and see his sunshine smile. I want to see Arthur roll his eyes at us and smile. 

I felt warm tears from my eyes to my collar. My knees gave in and Gil reached for me and screamed his sobs. I have to come to a conclusion. 

I will live for them. I will live my life for those who couldn't.

I took in the scent of Gil's hair and tried my hardest to retain it to memory. I will always think of him and of holding him, and everything I have left. I will never, ever sit back and do nothing again. I will make sure Gil and I would heal and accept everything in time. I will find a life and for once, start standing up for something worth fighting for. I will come back for Gil, and that is the only damn thing in this world I am sure of doing. We may not possibly know for certain how much time we have left, but I will look for them. Always.

But what if I lose him too? What if I lost Francis, Antonio or Natalya as well?

I could only hold him tighter.

Gilbert buried his face onto my chest and it breaks my heart just as much as his just from listening to his broken voice. Behind my closed eyes, I could hear their voices play in my head one last time.

"I know my cooking is awful but if I'm gone, it will be the most delicious thing you've ever tasted." And so it really was, Arthur. 

"You're going to regret not playing Call of Duty with me." And so you're right, Alfred.

"Will you take care of my brother?" I will and always will, Gabriel.

The thing is, no one is a perfect therapist. Let alone a perfect person. Apologizing right now is like putting a bandaid on a shattered mirror. Not only did it deem the mirror useless, but the bandaid too.

I will always remember them. They made my fleeting life worthwhile.

And not one second was wasted.

 

but I know for a fact

that these are broken nights

covered in bottles with the stench

of a loss

of a life

and I know that it's quite heartbreaking

we won't speak like this again

- i think you were in my profile picture once

 

Notes:

I once had a sister of my own named Gabrielle. It was shocking how I looked up HRE's name and it was Gabriel.

And to that person that was angry at me for making them cry at "Mint Gummies", I'm just as dead as you are, don't worry. I appreciate feedback so much.

Next Up: "Hollow Bread" (Ending/Spain perspective)

//6-24-2019

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