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Chapter Text

I had just wanted to withdraw 20 dollars from the ATM.

       A mere 20 dollars. I had thought it was a simple, quick errand so I walked out of the house dressed in the coffee-stained clothes that I slept in the past night with my hair lazily pulled up in a messy bun. I attempted to make myself at least look a little decent by half-heartedly putting on light mascara and brow liner but other than that, I probably looked like a tired, old stripper that nobody wanted. 

      You know, at that point, I didn't really care. I mean, it was only going to take 5-10 minutes. Plus, it was fairly early in the morning for any people to be out. I was just going to get cash and dash.

        However, things didn't go... exactly... to plan.

        First, when I got there, the ATM was broken. For a good while, I stared at its fuzzy, dead screen decorated with the words, "Sorry, this ATM is out of order. Please visit our website for more information". I stayed there as if it would start working again the longer I looked at it.   

       In my peripheral vision, I saw my reflection in the corner of the ATM's window and realized that I had put on too much mascara on my lashes. Instead of looking nice and neat, they looked like they were going to fly off of my face and disappear into the sun.

        I blinked and heaved a heavy sigh. 

        I thought of just going to another bank but there were no other banks that were open during that hour. The only option that I had was to go inside.

        It was just perfect. The day that I looked like a meth head was the day I had to talk to a bank teller.

        Already knowing that I was going to regret my decision, I headed into the bank.

        Luckily, there were only two other people there—an old lady and the bank teller. Unluckily, I was growing very self-conscious with my armpit odor. 

        'It's ok,' I thought to myself. 'They seem like nice people. I'm pretty sure they won't judge. Besides, they might pass you off as just a broke college student.' 

        As the old lady finished her transaction and walked past me, she looked at me and gave me an encouraging smile. "It's ok, sweetie. You'll get over that hump soon. And, before you know it, you'll finally be able to get your hands on your retirement money like me." She proceeded to let out a cackle and wave her paycheck in front of my face. "When you retire, tell your boss to suck it, okay dear?" I watched as she sashayed out of the door and blew a kiss to everyone that passed her.

        God, I love old ladies. 

        "Next in line, please." 

        I breathed out a determined exhale and walked over to the counter. The bank teller was a fairly young woman around the same age as me but looked like she was put together—unlike me. 

        "Can I withdraw 20 dollars from my account?" I asked, praying to God that I didn't look suspicious. 

        She eyed me up and down, her lips set in a fine line. I could feel her black eyes pierce my soul and I thought she was going to interrogate me before she said, "Can I see your card?"

        Just as I was about to hand it to her, I heard a huge bang and turned around to see three men with guns. They were all dressed in black and had masks over their faces so I couldn't see what they looked like.

        All I know is that I held my hands up and hit the floor harder than the girl in Flo Rida's song, "Low". 

        "I want BOTH of you ladies to come with us! Especially you behind the counter! I don't want none of you pulling ANY type of funny business. No panic buttons, calling the security—none of that! If any of you try to, I'll PERSONALLY shoot this bullet into your head myself!" One of the guys threatened. He then walked over to the bank teller who was practically a shaking mess now.

        One of the others walked over to me and shoved their gun into my face. "Put your head down if you know what's good for you," He hissed. I did what he told me and felt something hard push into the back of my skull. I stared at the floor tiles below me and tried not to cry. Despite my best efforts, droplets of tears splashed onto the black squares.

        "I'm sorry I stole one of your corpses!" I heard the bank teller yell. "It was supposed to be for one of my Halloween decorations! I was desperate to make my house the most festive on the block!" 

        My eyes widened. Maybe she wasn't as put together as I thought. I didn't know if that fact should've made me feel better about myself. 

        "Tsk. Stand up and get over here." 

        I heard the lady's scared shuffle and a door opening. Her cries were muffled and I could hear the man holding her hostage murmur something along the lines of "don't get paid enough for this" under his breath.

        "You should get up, too." The guy holding me at gunpoint said. I complied and shakily got on my feet, trying to blink out the tears out of my eyes. As I did, I saw the other criminal guarding the door. There was a black car in front of the building. It was probably the vehicle that they were going to shove us into. I hesitated as I remembered the statistic of a person dying during a kidnapping increased when they went to a second location. My eyes darted between the car and the guy in front of the door as my brain tried to be rational under all the pressure.

        "Go on." The guy behind me commanded, shoving his gun into the small of my back. 

        I wish it was in like one of those action movies where the girl would bust out into a karate move and overtake her kidnapper. Unfortunately, me and my pink bunny slippers didn't know how to do karate. So instead, I let myself be dragged outside. 

        Before we walked out the door, the guy with the lady warned us, "If any of you scream, I'll shoot," in a menacing tone. 

        We walked out the door, the person guarding it walking out last. 

        They pushed the bank teller and then me into the black car. Tears blurred my vision as I felt the man's gun barrel dig deeper into my back. My palms became damp with sweat and I feared that the man would pull the trigger when I got inside the car. My knees became weak with fear and my feet rooted themselves onto the ground. I tried to get in but no matter what I did, I couldn't get my body to move. I was paralyzed. 

        "Get. In." The man said, his voice dripping with danger. I tried to move but I was stuck there. 

        The man then roughly shoved me into the car and I nearly fell on top of the other girl. He then slid into the seat next to me, his gun now at my temple. In that moment, all I could remember was how the car smelled faintly of smoke and alcohol and how the seats were stained with all types of filth. As the last member got into the passenger seat, the guy at the steering wheel started the car. 

        'This was it.' I thought. 'This was how I was going to die. Shot in the head by a stranger and dressed like a hobo. Maybe if I died in Gucci this wouldn't be so bad.'

        "You guys made sure that no one saw us, right?" The guy at the steering wheel said. 

        "Yup. We either bribed them, threatened to kill their loved ones, or shot them." The one sitting next to me replied. 

        Shoot. I hope the old lady was alright. 

        "There was this one weird, old lady who kept threatening to pinch my cheeks and I just got so scared that I let her go." The one in the passenger seat piped up.

        If it wasn't for the circumstances, I would have screamed, 'Yassss Queeeeennn!! You keep your retirement money!' I wish I could have done that but all I could do was hope that she sashayed her way past these criminals. 

        "Are you fucking serious, BEN?" The guy behind the steering wheel asked in a voice devoid of emotion. 

        "Bro, why the hell did you say my name?" Ben complained. "Now they know my identity!"

        The man seethed and I saw his grip tighten on the wheel. "That's not the fucking point! You let a person get away!"

        Ben only ignored him and stated, "The guy who sounds like Pennywise and is screaming in my ear is named Jeffery Woods. Jeff the Killer for short. And the guy over there," Ben pointed to the guy next to me. "Is Richard. Dick for short. He's new. Richard say 'hi'."

        "Hi."

        "THE FUCK, BEN!" Jeff screamed.

        "Anyway, what are your guys' names? I already know yours," He pointed at the bank teller. "Meredith Miller, or as I like to call you, Eminem. Haha, get it? But, back to my question, what are your guys' names? Eminem you can say yours again just for politeness."

        Meredith, in between tears and sniffles, whimpered, "Hello, my name's," she hiccupped, "M-Meredith Miller and I handle your transactions. Flemming bank has exceptional customer service and we are extreme—"

        "Ok, Meredith, we don't want to hear you promoting your job. That's very rude to someone you just met," Ben interrupted.

        "I-I'm sorry."

        "It's okay. And thank you for apologizing. And, you, the one that looks like a marijuana addict, what's your name?"

        Dang. I do look like an addict. 

        Shakily, I whimper, "[Y/N]. [Y/N], [L/N]."

        My body lurched forward as Jeff suddenly stomped on the brake and the car immediately stopped. Ben gasped and Richard pointed the gun at his own head. 

        "What's your name?" Jeff commanded. 

        "[Y-Y/N]? [L/N]?" I restated, wondering if they were going to kill me because of my own name. What if they shoot me because my name isn't something they wanted to hear?

        …

        'That doesn't even make any sense.' I wanted to sob.

        "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. We're all gonna fucking die. He's gonna fucking kill us." Ben started rambling. He ran his hands over the top of his head and started hyperventilating.

        "Kill us? He'll only kill you! Jesus Christ, BEN, I know you fuck up a lot but I didn't know you could fuck up this badly!" Jeff screamed back, his hands flying up in the air. He started pounding his head on the steering wheel and I kind of felt bad for him. Poor guy was probably going to get a concussion before he even managed to kidnap us successfully. 

        "I know!" Ben screamed back. "But, I didn't know she would be in there!"

        Jeff  momentarily stopped hitting his head to yell at Ben. "She's the only person on the 'no-harm' list! The only damn person! I swear to god, BEN! You make me want to KILL MYSELF from all the stupid shit that you do!"

        Poor Ben was so overwhelmed that he didn't even get to hear what Jeff said. "If The Operator finds out about this, I'm screwed. What to do, what to do? Quick! Bust my kneecaps before he does! There's got to be a hammer somewhere in here! Or wait!" The whole car grew silent as all eyes turned on him. Frankly, I was just confused as to what the heck was happening.  

        "WHAT NOW?!" Jeff bellowed, tired of everything. 

        "Hear me out! We can blame it on Dick! We can blame it on the rookie!" Ben answered, sounding like he just found a cure to cancer.

        "Why me?!" Dick cried, his gun that he pointed at his head trembled violently. He burst into sobs as he pressed his weapon even deeper into his temple. 

        I could feel Jeff's glare at Ben just emitting from his mask. "You know what?" Jeff cried, an air of finality in his tone. "You! Get out of the car! None of this ever happened and you don't know our names, ok?! If anyone ever asks, you just went to the bank!" He then turned his head at the person beside him. "BEN, open the car!" 

        Ben scurried out and opened the door to the backseat. "You can c-come out, miss. It was a great day with you around. Hopefully you live a long life." 

        "C-Can I come out, too?" Meredith asked, attempting to grasp the chance.

        "No!" Ben and Jeff both said in unison.

         As they practically peer-pressured me into escaping, Ben scrambled back to the passenger seat and Jeff slammed onto the gas pedal. The car zoomed past me, the air from the movement messing up my hair even further. I was left in the middle of the street, really confused and trying to process the entire scenario that seemed like it came from a sitcom.

        For a while,  I just sat at a curb, staring at a puddle of water beside me. I sat there for a good while, an empty look in my eyes. Eventually, I pull out my phone in my pajama pocket that somehow survived throughout the whole ordeal. I went through my contacts and found the number I was looking for. I pressed the 'dial' button to my friend's number and waited for her to pick up.

        After a few seconds pass, I hear her pick up the receiver. "Hello, [Y/N]?" She asked in a groggy voice. "It's 3 in the morning over here."

        "H-Hey," I stammer, the anxiety still in my system. "Sorry but can you do me a favor? Tell me the truth. Am I that useless that I'm not even worthy of being kidnapped?"

Chapter Text

"And I said my name and they started panicking. And you know what they did after that?"

       In between my call with my friend, I was able to get in touch with a driver near me. She said she was supposed to arrive in a few minutes but unfortunately got caught in traffic on the way. In the meantime, while I waited, I decided to just have a chat with Adalia, my friend that was on the other side of the country. 

       So, I was sitting on a curb in front of this humble, small house, waiting for my Uber and looking like a hobo. I don't care anymore, though. All of the care that I had in the world were thrown out of the window. If I were dressed in a ridiculous cow costume decorated with those huge udders, I wouldn't give a single thought about people giving me weird looks. In fact, I would shove the udders into strangers' faces and put them on display if they did. Maybe even jiggle them. I don't care.

       If I wanted to look like Steve Buscemi, I was going to look like Steve Buscemi.

        Because, frankly, I'm just glad I'm alive.

         Adalia's voice brought me back to reality. "Girl, don't tell me they dumped you in the middle of nowhere." 

        I let out a tired sigh. "That's exactly what they did."

        "Ooh, girl! You should have jumped on the hood and told them that they owed you 20 dollars! Be like, skrrt, skrrt, bitch! Give me my damn money!" 

          I chuckled, imagining the scenario. "Nah, I think I scared them enough already."

        "Are you going to tell the police about what happened?" Adalia asked. "Because, you really should. You're new to the area and you don't know what kind of shit goes down there. And if it wasn't for that Operator guy that they were freaking out about, you would have probably been..." Her voice trailed off, the words left unspoken. But, I knew what she was going to say, even before she thought about it. "Jeez, [Y/N]. Saying that out loud..."

        The atmosphere grew somber. "Yeah... Yeah I know what you mean." I start to choke up, remembering the feeling of the metal barrel against my head. "It was so scary, Adalia. And, I would have, I—" I break into sobs, the full intensity of the event finally setting in. 

         The loud bang. Their threatening voices. The hard gun against my head. Meredith's whimpers. The criminals' threats. It all came flashing back. If they weren't so scared, I could only imagine what would've happened. Deep inside, in the black parts of my mind, a sentence echoed.

         You would be dead.

         "Hey, hey, hey," Adalia said, her voice a soft comfort. "You're okay, now. You're alright. You're safe."

        "M-Meredith isn't. I need to tell the police about what happened. For her sake." I wiped the tears off my face and ordered myself to stop crying. I needed to be brave. However, the tremors wouldn't stop. 

        "You go and do that. That's the best thing to do in that situation. By the way, how's your teaching job going? I know that that's the reason why you decided to go to the other side of the country and abandoned me here." She joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

        "I'm starting tomorrow. In fact, the reason why I went to the bank was to buy some extra materials for the classroom. But, I guess that's out of the question now."

        "What grade are you teaching, again?"

        "3rd."

         "You think your students will be little devils?" I could hear the smirk in her voice. She knew that I always got annoyed when people belittled kids.

        Nonetheless, even though I knew she was only teasing, I still wanted to defend them. "Hey! Don't call them that!" 

        "You've gotta admit, though. Some kids are brats." 

        Before I could say anything, a rumble of a car interrupted our conversation. I turned to the source of the noise and saw a white Toyota in the distance. Just then, my notification bell sounded and I knew that the car was probably my Uber. 

        "Hey, Adalia. I have to go, my ride is here."

        "Ok. Stay safe, hon. Be careful for me, will you?" 

        I nodded my head. "Yeah. Bye."

        "Bye. Call me if you need me!"

        "Yeah, I will!" I press the red icon on my phone and hung up.

        The car pulled up to the curb and I took a deep breath. It was time to be brave.

         I opened the door to the front passenger seat and slid in. The driver gave me a look and I couldn't care less.

         "Long day?" The woman asked in a knowing tone, a small smile played on her lips. 

         "Tell me about it." I sighed. 

         "Sorry for my lateness by the way," she apologized.

          I gave her a reassuring smile and she started the car. I stared at her hands as they turned the steering wheel, remembering how Jeff's would tighten around the wheel earlier whenever he got mad. Back then, they looked pretty strong as if he was used to holding heavy things. I wonder, would those same hands be the ones to have strangled me if I had stayed there?

        A heavy sigh left my lips. Too many thoughts were running through my head, none of them good. I turned my head to stare out the window, watching as my surroundings whizzed past like a film.

        I just wanted to go home where it was safe.

Little did the woman know, a pair of eyes were trained on her from within one of the houses. They peered at her through the window blinds, staring as she stepped into the car and drifted away. 

A white-gloved hand reached for an old, vintage telephone. With a steady finger, they dialed a number.

"Tell The Operator I've got news. Tell him it's something that he might want to hear."

        "Can you drop me off at the bank?" I ask as we were about to cross the area. I needed to see if the police had arrived so that I could tell them about what happened to me. Plus, I didn't have cash to tip the driver with. 

        "Yeah, sure." She rotated the steering wheel and we turned a corner. When we got there, the place was... empty. There was a window on the bank that was shattered, something that I didn't notice earlier in the commotion. I'm guessing that the kidnappers shot it earlier to give us a warning. There were shards from the broken window that were scattered all over the floor. The remnants were small and shiny. It reminded me of snow. 

        Sharp and painful snow. 

        It was pretty clear that there was an attempted heist or crime but, there was literally nobody near the building. There were no police or police cars anywhere within proximity. In fact, there were no signs of any authority at all. It's like they didn't even care that there was a huge hole in one of the bank's windows. Did the police not care about money? I mean, I'm all for people who don't let money control them but this was ridiculous. 

        "Doesn't it look like somebody tried to rob the bank?" I asked the driver, trying to make sure that I wasn't crazy or overthinking.
        
        All she said in a monotone voice was, "Yup."

        I was incredulous. "Where are the police?" 

        "You're not from here aren't you?" She inquired. 

        "Nope. I moved here a couple of weeks ago." I replied. 

        "As I thought. I could tell from your accent but your reaction confirms my suspicions. Well, dear, in this town, power can give you many things."

        "Okay..." I trailed off, not knowing how this related to my question.

        "It can give you knowledge, connections, and respect. And, if you are powerful enough, you can have the freedom from the one thing that keeps every rational person from becoming illogical animals." She drove to a parking space that was right in front of the bank's glass doors. When she did, she stopped the car and turned towards me. I was now fully immersed in whatever she was talking about, wanting to know where she was going with this. "You can have the power to be free of punishment and consequences. There is nothing that can stop you, only yourself. And, whoever has that power... well, society's fate rests on their shoulders. If that power befell a good man, society will flourish. If that power befell a bad one, society as we know it will crumble. In this world, there is someone who has that power." A despaired look came over her face. "Unfortunately they are of the latter." 

        "Jeez, you should write a book or something, Ms. Uber Driver." 

        In .001 seconds, her expression transformed from a look of despair to a look of joy. "I'm so glad you brought that up! As a matter of fact, I am writing a book. It's called,  'His Sharp Claws.'" She started going off on a tangent about her love of writing and dreams of being a best-selling author. 

        I started to grow excited as she became more passionate in talking about her book but, at the same time, I didn't want her to lose track of the question.

        She rummaged through the car's mini compartment and pulled out a manuscript. "Here it is! It's about a werewolf that is bloodthirsty until he finds his mate! I don't have an ending in mind yet, but you can read it!" She shoved the papers into my hand, not even giving me a second to react. "I'm doing Uber as a sideline." She explained.

        With a polite smile, I said, "Okay. I'll read it once I have the time but, I have a question." 

        "Yes?" she asked.

        "Who is the person that is powerful enough that he doesn't face any punishment?" 

        "Oh." The despaired look came over her again. "We don't know his name, only his title. He is called 'The Operator.'"

        There it was again. That name.

        "We've never seen him before because he likes to lay low. However, he runs this whole town, country, this whole world, even. He's got puppets in the government and lots of connections. And, I mean, lots. He's rumored to be very dangerous and will kill you. If you get on his bad side, he'll..." She visibly shivered. "Let's just say that gruesome things will happen to you."

        Chills ran up my spine.

        She looked at me, an intense emotion flared in her widened eyes. "You're not from here. You better be careful." 

        Just who was this guy? It seemed that just by saying his name made everyone cower in fright, even kidnappers. I'm grateful that he saved my life by putting me on that 'no-harm' list but, it only raised more questions such as: why did he put me on that list and how does he know me?

        "How bad is he?" I questioned, wanting to know just how much power he exerted. I needed to size up his authority to know if I should even connect myself with this person.

        "He's bad. In fact, maybe a little too much. If someone has so much power that even the law can't stop them, you know they're... bad. Look, there's no police here. If this was a regular, old criminal who tried to rob this bank, law enforcers would be swarming in every direction. However, there's no one here which means that this crime was committed by The Operator or one of the people working under him."

        Jeez. This guy even had minions. 

        "He's a powerful figure, dear. He's got eyes everywhere and if you're not careful, it'll be over for you. My advice to you, dear, would be to steer clear of anything shady that you see happening. Especially for you because you're brand new and don't know how things work. I'm ashamed to say it but I can't lie to you. This is a bad town. A bad town that's run by bad people. Now, what was it that you needed to come here to the bank for?" 

        "Oh, yes!" I hurried out of the car and went to the ATM machine, wanting to see if it was finally working.

        To my disappointment but not surprise, it was working perfectly. It just had to be broken earlier, didn't it? 

        Quickly, I withdrew 25 dollars, saving the 20 for me and the rest for the tip. When I got my money, I went back to the car and handed the driver five dollars. Surprisingly, she refused, and told me that she was just glad that I decided to give her book a chance. She then asked me if I wanted to ride home but I shook my head and told her that my apartment was near here. 

        As she drove off, I decided to go to a store nearby so that I could buy some extra supplies for the classroom. I walked through the streets, the tall buildings towering over me. For the first time since coming to this place, I realized that there were a lot of alleyways in between the buildings and dead ends. Overhead on the power lines, I could see a pair of shoes that were tied together hanging on them. I wondered how many tries it took for the person to finally get the shoes on the power lines. I also wondered why they even threw the shoes on the lines in the first place. It seemed dangerous to me. 

        Shrugging, I continued on my way to the store before a nice and quaint restaurant caught my eye. There was a red and white striped awning that hung over the main doors and above it was their restaurant sign. It was a picture of two hamburger buns with the words Hammon's Hamburgers sandwiched in between. Its red and orange lights flickered incessantly and I was tempted to go inside and tell the owner that their lightbulbs were broken. However, I decided to let it go and went on my merry way. Besides, the constant flickering made a nice effect.

        The cold and crisp air breezed past my face and I breathed it in. Smiling, I closed my eyes, wanting to bask in the moment. 

        It was so peaceful.

        That was until I heard someone say, "Look, a poor person! Remember, kids, what do you do when you see a poor person?"

        A chorus of yells cried out, "YOU GIVE THEM MONEY!"

        "And why is that?"

        "BECAUSE THEY BROKE AF!"

        "Though that is true, that is not the real reason why! Can someone give me the real reason?"

        "BECAUSE WE NEED TO ESTABLISH DOMINANCE BY GIVING THEM OUR DOLLAS!"

        "Noooo, that's not the reason!"

        "QUICK, SOMEONE T-POSE OVER THE POOR PEOPLE!"

        "EW! YOU'RE CRINGE!"

        "WELL AT LEAST I DON'T LOOK LIKE YOU, JOE!"

        "WHO'S JOE?"

        "ME, DUMBASS!"
        

        Right.

        I was still looking crusty. 

  "Tell the Operator I've got news. Tell him it's something that he might want to hear." 

        At that moment, Toby didn't really want to do anything. The boss was downstairs, in his office, "interrogating" some of his associates. Apparently, they had fucked up real bad. Bad enough to get the boss involved.

         Masky and Hoodie, his partners, were down there, too, acting as bodyguards though the boss didn't really need any. Toby could hear the commotion downstairs, the usual screaming and the crying. It was pitiful to hear but to Toby's ears, their sounds were music. He loved hearing them. That's why he always decided to guard upstairs instead of with the boss. Something about their muffled, desperate cries was aesthetically pleasing to Toby. He loved it.

        The boss's office was sometimes referred to as the "Kitty Room" between Toby and his fellow partners because the "men" who went down there with the boss became pussies afterward. People who claimed to be 'the baddest' pissed their pants when they had to go to the Kitty Room and Toby found it satisfying. Their cockiness was irritating and to see them realize their place was gratifying. 

        No matter how tough you were, The Operator was always tougher. That was their motto.

        Grunting, Toby extinguished his cigarette and disposed of it, telling the connection on the other end to wait. He went downstairs to inform the boss, the men's cries growing louder. With each sound of pain, Toby's grin grew wider. The gaping hole in his cheek that he acquired from a nasty fight lifted slightly as he did. It looked grotesque but Toby showed it off with pride. It made him more intimidating and in this world, intimidation was key.

        Toby arrived at the office, the huge brown, wooden doors muffling the men's screams inside. Toby stayed there for a moment, relishing the thrill of it all before knocking on the door three times. 

        The room grew silent and the door opened, revealing a sadistic looking Masky. His mask was lifted from his face so his wild grin could be seen. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled to his elbows and his shirt was splattered with dots of red. His black tie hung loosely over his chest and Toby knew he was having a fun time with the associates.

        Toby smirked at him.

        "Whatddya want, Tobes? We're kinda busy here." Masky said, the wildness in his eyes never disappearing. 

        "Tell the boss that someone has news. They said it might be something he wants to hear." 

        Masky nodded briefly and headed back inside. 

        After a while, The Operator came out to meet Toby, carrying a long, leather, black whip over his shoulder. His state was much messier than Masky's. His polished shirt had a huge puddle of blood covering more than half of his torso. It matched his crimson tie that was now undone and barely clinging on to his body. Droplets of blood were scattered across his pale face and it reminded Toby of a messy abstract painting. 

        Normally, other bosses left their underlings to do all the dirty work. This wasn't the case for The Operator, though. He loved carnage as much as he loved money. And it was this trait that sold Toby on working for him.

        "Has he said anything of the news?" The faceless being questioned, his baritone voice echoed throughout the halls.

        Toby shook his head.

        The Operator turned towards his lieutenants. "Masky, Hoodie, dispose of the incompetent workers. There is no room for traitors here."

        They then walked upstairs, The Operator grumbling, saying, "If it's Offender requiring help for his deals again, I swear I'll kill him with my own hands."

        "Oh, I don't think it's The Hitman, sir. To be frank, I think it's The Observer." 

        The boss hummed. "Hmm... I wonder what is so dire for him to call..."

        As they arrived upstairs, Toby walked over to the phone and The Operator walked over to the counter to pour himself a glass of red wine. He only filled it slightly, the drink not filling more than half the glass. 

        Toby picked up the phone and said, "What's so important?" 

        "I need to talk to the boss personally. It's about... the list."

         Toby gulped and widened his eyes. The 'no-harm' list was a topic that was untouched by anyone who worked under The Operator. There was only one person on that list and not even the boss's own family members were included. It showed how much this person meant to the boss, being the reason why he made the list in the first place. If anyone hurt her... Toby knew that the boss would rain hellfire on them. 

         "Well, Toby, what is this important news? I admit. You have me intrigued. You look like you've seen a ghost." The Operator sipped a bit of wine. 

         Toby coughed. "It's about the list." His own face paled as the boss let out a short hum that was on the verge of being a growl. He saw the boss's hand tighten on the wine glass, nearly breaking it if it wasn't for his ability at controlling his temper. Toby paled even more as he saw The Operator's hand clench the handle of his leather whip. 

         He walked over to Toby and set his wine down. Then, he picked up the phone. 

        With a deadly, calm voice, he asked, "Well, what of it, Kevin?" Toby stared at how The Operator tapped the table with his fingers impatiently. He was glad that he wasn't The Observer at the moment. He could only imagine how scared shitless he would be if he was on the receiving end. He knew that he would become a stuttering mess. He hoped that the person on the list was only hurt and not killed.

         Anticipation filled Toby as time passed on and The Operator's emotions remained unreadable. His body language was tense but Toby didn't know if it was because of his anger or something else. 

         After a while, Toby jumped in surprise as the boss hung up aggressively. The boss then threw his whip into the air and jumped for joy, squealing like a little girl. 

        "Yaaaaayyyy!! My little birdy [Y/N] is here!! "

        Toby guessed that this [Y/N] person was the one on the 'no-harm' list.

Chapter Text

The Operator coughed, regaining his composure. Toby only stared, wide-eyed. He had never seen the boss act this way before. It was completely out of his character. 

        "Uh-" Toby managed to say before The Operator roughly picked him by the cuff of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. The force of the action was so strong that Toby felt himself break a bone or two. For a moment, he became light-headed, his vision fading to black. 

       Disoriented, all that Toby could sense was that he was now at least 3 feet off of the ground and The Operator's grip was dangerously tight. He couldn't escape.

        Toby was a mouse trapped between a snake's fangs. 

        In a tone filled with venom, the boss hissed, saying, "I highly advise that you not tell the others of this moment. If you do... well, I know you have a sister named Lyra Rogers and I know that you love her dearly. I also know what a shame it would be if something bad were to happen to her because of something you did."

        In other situations, if anyone else tried to threaten Toby by using his sister, Toby would lash out and kill them. In fact, he was widely known for becoming a beast if someone used his sister against him. They called him "Ticky Toby" for this reason. It only took an utter of her name for him to get ticked off. 

       You didn't want to see him ticked off. The aftermath wasn't pretty. 

        However, that only happened in other situations with other people. The Operator wasn't just another person. He was deadly with lots of connections. Toby knew that and he also knew his place. So, instead of pulling out his gun and shooting the being, he merely nodded his head.  

        "Good," The Operator gently set Toby down, patting his back like a proud father. "You know when to follow orders. That's why I like you." 

        "Th-thank you, s-sir." Toby replied, shaken. 

        "Go downstairs and help Masky and Hoodie with the traitors if they need any. I need to make a few calls for certain people."

         Toby didn't dare ask who they were although the curiosity was bubbling inside of him. Without protest, Toby walked himself outside, involuntarily releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

        As Toby left, the tall, scar-faced mafia boss picked up the wine he had poured himself earlier. He held the glass in his elongated fingers, admiring how the carmine liquid swirled around inside of the cup. He mused, thinking of the best way to torture a certain individual who had dared to press a gun against his little birdy's temple. A phantom of a sinister smile formed on the featureless being's face.

        The atmosphere crackled with evil.

        The wine in his cup reminded him of blood. 

        He pictured the person who tried to kill his birdy. A growl erupted from his throat. 

        A memory flashed in his mind. 

"Slender, you get angry too easily. I think you should practice some mindfulness meditation with me."
 
"Why don't you just...?"

 "Why don't I just what?"

 "Why don't you just kiss me instead?" 

 He smiled as she giggled and covered her face, a sign that she was embarrassed. Oh, how he loved teasing her. She was so cute   when she was like this. She reminded him of a hummingbird, small and shy but playful at the same time. 

 "You're so freaking cheesy." She giggled. 

 "Hmph," he crossed his arms in a childish manner. "I like it when you kiss me. Your lips feel like cotton candy. Why don't you plant one right here?" He pointed at a space on his cheek.

  She gave his cheek a light smack. "There."

  "Hey! That wasn't a kiss!" 

  "Kiss your own self, you dum-dum! And do your homework!"

   "I think I'd rather do you instead, Birdy."

    "Ew!" She exclaimed while laughing. "I'd get cooties!"

   "You still believe in that stuff?" He chuckled, not knowing that he was gazing at her. He was wondering how he got this lucky to be able to get this close to her. Oh well, it didn't matter. He was just glad that they were together. 

        In the end, he eventually did do meditation with her. He found that it actually helped a lot and he was eventually able to control his anger issues. He continued practicing meditation even when he didn't need it anymore. The only reason he went was because he liked spending time with Birdy.

        He chuckled, recognizing how much happier he was when he was with her. Even Offenderman had took notice of this, saying that Slenderman didn't sound the same after they both separated to pursue their dreams. She went to California to become a teacher and he moved to New York with his brothers, fate molding him to become the ruler of the world. 

        And now, fate also led her to him. 

        He could have ordered a search for her during all these years just to know how she was doing but, he opted to let her live her own life. He was sure that she wouldn't want one of his connections stalking her 24/7 only to tell him that they watched her go inside her house or something. So, he focused on his own life, gaining more and more territory while also imprinting his name on the criminal world. He became something to be feared and revered at the same time. 

        He sipped the last of his wine, reminiscing the memories of him and his birdy. He missed her.

        He made a vow to himself that when he had the power, his priority was to protect her. Well, he was a man of his word. 

        He was going to kill that person who tried to harm her.

        It was true that he had gotten good at controlling his temper because of [Y/N]. However, she was also the key to unleashing it. If someone threatened her, he was going to make sure that that fucker wouldn't be alive to see another day. He decided that he was going to have to ask BEN and Jeff a few questions. 

       I was trying to unlock my classroom door, my coffee and all of the activities that I planned for the first day of school in a mini black rolling cart next to me. It was a special new day and I had woken up this morning feeling excited. It was going to be my first day of being an actual teacher! All those years of studying books and stressing over papers was finally worth it. 

        "Ooh, I heard that you're the one who's going to get those kids this year." 

        I whipped my head to the side at the snide remark to see a short, middle-aged teacher next to me. "I'm sorry, what?" 

        "Yeah. You're going to get those students this year. They're the kids that none of us want. They always give them to the newbies because no one else wants them. I swear, they are so difficult. William, the guy that you're replacing, had them last year and even he couldn't control them. The kids gave him so many wrinkles that he looked like Gordon Ramsey by the end of the year."

        "Well, they're only kids. You can't expect them to behave all the time."

        "That's true but, these kids are spawns of Satan. Now, don't get me wrong, I love kids. But, these ones are just... whew. They're so spoiled and bratty. I highly doubt that they'll be able to get through college."

        I tried my hardest not to slap them. Inhaling deeply, I said, "Since I don't know anything about your experiences, I will not judge you based on what you said. However, I do believe that you should keep those thoughts to yourself. Who knows? A kid could've heard you and your words could've hurt them. Especially since you're an adult that they look up to. Also, I believe that those kids will be able to get through college. As long as you nurture them and adapt to their needs, they'll succeed."

        Their eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't think you would react that way! You'll understand what I mean, though! I wish you good luck!"

        Before I could make them catch these hands, I unlocked my door and quickly went inside, not caring if they said anything else. I don't think I would have been able to tolerate another negative comment that came out of their mouth. I slammed the door shut and closed my eyes. With a sigh, I leaned against it, trying to calm down.

        'Focus on your breathing. Feel yourself inhale. Hold that breath. Then let it out. Do it three more times...'

        'Who are you kidding, [Y/N]? You still want to drop-kick them.'

        "No, no, [Y/N]. Calm down, calm down."

        At that moment, the bell rang, signaling that the kids were going to start lining up against my room. I took a deep breath and stood upright, my eyes now open. Pushing down the handle, I opened my door, hoping that my co-worker was gone now. Thankfully, my prayers were answered and they were no longer outside. I'm guessing that they were inside their classroom. I allowed myself to be angry for only a moment by glaring at the spot where they used to be. 

        Just then, a ball of red whizzed past me. It abruptly stopped and then I discovered that the ball of red was actually a boy dressed in an all red outfit. Red jacket, red shirt, red pants, red shoes, and even a red watch.

        "Where the diddly darn did darn tootin' is room 505?" He asked.

        "Right here." I piped up, smiling.

        He ran towards me and stared, taking in my appearance. He squinted, looking very suspicious. "Hmm... I've never seen you around before."

        "That's because I'm new. My name is Miss. [L/N]. You can call me Miss. Birdy if that's too hard. What's your name?"

        He grinned. "My name's Jace and I'm a meatball!!"  

        I turned my head away so that he couldn't see me struggling to hold in my laughter. His exclamation was so random and unexpected. When I was able to regain my senses, I directed my attention back towards him. "So, Jace, are any of your friends in the same class as you?" 

        "All of them are! That's because we're the bad kids! And they always make the bad kids be in the same classroom. I think that's stupid because if you put all the bad kids in one space, then instead of trying to get rid of all the bad, you're only going to get a big ball of bad! You get what I mean?"

        "Yes. I fully understand."

        In the distance, I heard someone yell, "I'm gonna call you Ji-Na the Jigglypuff from now on because you're fat!" A boy's voice huffed in indignation.

        "That's Kwon-Ha and Ji-Na." Jace whispered to me. "They're brother and sister and they kinda fight a lot but it's also kinda funny."

        As if on cue, I heard a girl's voice retort, "Well, I'm gonna call you Kwon-Ha the disappointment because you are one!"

        Well, I already knew that the day was off to a great start.

        Some minutes have passed and all my students were in the room. It was full of commotion with all the children talking over each other. I tried to get them to quiet down so we could start class but no matter what I did to get their attention, none of them would listen. I knew that this job was going to be hard so I expected something like this would happen. So, I decided to try a little experiment. 

        I put one foot on my desk. 

        No one was watching. 

        Carefully, I hoisted my other foot onto the desk so that I was actually on it. This peculiar spectacle did garner some attention from a few students but what really got them to look at me was when I stood up on the desk, towering over them by a good feet or so. I imagined how embarrassing it would have been if someone had decided to walk in right at that moment. All they would see would be a 24-year-old dressed in a white shirt, black jeans, and black flats trying to establish dominance over a group of children.

        I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, "SUBIR!" 

        I quickly scanned the group to see 13 pairs of bewildered eyes staring in awe at my display.

        "SUBIR, SUBIR, SUBIR, SUBIR, SUBIR, SUBIR!" I chanted the word six more times, hoping that the walls were thick enough so that the teachers next door wouldn't be able to hear me.

        "VOY A SUBIR NUEVAMENTE!" I raised a fist in the air and finished, panting heavily. Calmly, I stepped off of the desk and walked to the front of the class. Their mouths were gaping and their eyes were twinkling with astonishment. 2 seconds later, they were all cheering their heads off. 

        "THAT WAS SO AWESOME!"

        "I TOLD YOU THE TEACHER WAS COOL!"

        "MR. W COULD NEVER!"

        "RAAAAAHHHHHH!"

        I laughed inwardly at their reactions, enjoying their excitement. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt it to start class. "Okay, okay, guys, settle down." I said, motioning for them to be quiet. 

        Unlike before, the class listened to me and they immediately hushed. 

        "So, what I said earlier was actually Spanish. 'Subir' means 'to rise' and 'Voy a subir nuevamente' means 'I will rise again'. Hello, my name is Miss. [L/N] and you can call me by my name or my nickname, Miss. Birdy."

        A little girl shot her hand in the air. I nodded at her, gesturing that she could say whatever it was that she wanted to say. 

        "Why is your nickname Miss. Birdy? Isn't birdy an animal?" She asked.

        "Well, Birdy is a nickname that was given to me by a special friend. I liked it so I decided to keep it." I answered.

        "Oh. Was your special friend your boyfriend?" She questioned in a sly tone. She giggled and I heard a few other girls giggle along with her.

        I could feel my face burn with embarrassment. These kids, I swear. Laughing nervously, I stated, "Yes. They were my guy friend." Avoiding any more personal questions, I continued with my introduction, "This is my first year teaching and I am so grateful to be here to teach you wonderful people. Not only will I teach you math, reading, science, and history, I will also teach you lessons about life. Anyway, sorry that the class looks kind of empty right now. I know that it isn't as decorative as other classrooms but, I hope to fill it with all of your hard work as the school year passes. So, yeah, that's about it. Any questions before we get started with the first activity?"

        "No." The class answered in unison. 

        "Great! First, let's get you guys into groups. So, as you can see there are four tables in the room," The students looked at all the empty tables. "I want you guys to figure out which people you want to sit next to. I'll let you choose who to sit with for now but, if you become too noisy, then I'll assign a seating chart. You can make group names once you've chosen your groups. Make sure to write the group name on a piece of paper that I put on each table! Ok, ready, go!" 

        All 13 students congregated into one big circle and I was impressed by how well they communicated with each other. They didn't fuss or argue but, instead, they all seemed to get along. I could hear them whispering among themselves and I was surprised when one of them said the word, 'negotiate' as if this was a business meeting or something. I didn't know why the teacher from earlier said they were a bad bunch. From what I could tell so far, they were amazing. 

        The only negative thing I could say about them was that they were a smaller group of students compared to other classes that I have seen. Instead of the usual amount of at least 20, the size of this class was 7 students smaller. Not that I was complaining, though. This was a good number for me. Less students meant less stress. Plus, I would be able to get to know them better individually. 

        After a few moments, they all seemed to decide who was going to be in which group. They separated from each other and seated themselves in different places. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. Their sense of teamwork was remarkable especially considering that they were all eight. 

        "Wow!" I exclaimed. "You guys are very organized."

        "Thank you." A boy piped up. 

        "Okay, now you guys can make your group names. I'll give you 15 minutes and when you're done, show it to me so that I can approve it."

        "Miss. Birdy?" 

        "Yes?"

        "What does approve mean?"

        "Approve means to agree with something."

        "Oh, ok."

        I left them to their devices as I sat at my desk, surfing the web and drinking the coffee that I had brought earlier. I skimmed through my calendar, taking note at how busy I was going to be, especially in the coming months. Eventually, 15 minutes had passed and I looked up to see if they were ready. They were still conversing with one another. "Do we still need a minute?" I asked.

        "Yes." A group filled with only girls responded. 

        Taking a sip of my coffee, I decided to give them a little more time and while I waited, study their interactions.

        I had noticed earlier how the students that were brother and sister wore cute matching outfits. Kwon-Ha wore a black scarf while his sister, Ji-Na wore a white one. From what I deducted, I assumed that they were fraternal twins.

        Now, the duo sat at different tables. Kwon-Ha was in the group that was near the right corner of the classroom and Ji-Na sat at the group next to them. Funnily enough, they were both seated in the same position of the group. Both of them sat at the left corner of each table. I wondered if they agreed to do that or if it all chalked up to coincidence.

        "Miss. Birdy, we decided on a name." My thoughts were interrupted and I glanced down to see a paper slide onto my desk. Little hands guided it along and I looked to see that the person who was maneuvering it was Jace. 

        "Ok, let me see it." I took the paper off of my desk and held it up to read it. Absent-mindedly, I took another sip of my coffee and almost spat it out as I realized what was on the paper. 

        "Me, Will, and Chase want to be called The Crackheads!"

        Choking, I managed to ask, "Why?" Do these kids know what crackheads are?

        "Because we all love animal crackers and we all have heads!"

         I sigh in relief. "Do you guys want to change it to something else?"

        Jace paused for a moment, thinking to himself. "No!"  

        "Ok then." I wasn't about to go explaining why they couldn't be called 'The Crackheads'. I'll leave that to their parents. "Just put a line in between 'crack' and 'heads'. It'll look cooler that way." I suggested. 

        Jace seemed to agree and happily walked over back to his group.

        "Miss. Birdy, us too." A little girl that was named Mari stood next to me, waving a paper in front of my face. She grinned at me, showing off her two missing front teeth. "By the way, I drew a flower for you on the back. Don't show it to anyone else because it's only for you." She whispered in a quiet voice.

        I smiled back at her, reading her paper. It seemed like a mashup of the group's names. 

       MaReKwon-Ha.

        Ma for Mari. 

        Re for Reno. 

        Kwon-Ha for Kwon-Ha. I guess he wanted to be unique.

        It seemed innocent enough. And, I have to admit, it was a pretty clever group name. 

        MaReKwon-Ha. 

        Ma-Re-Kwon-Ha. 

        Mah Ree Kwon Ha.

        Marijuana.

        Crud. 

Chapter Text

'Ok, what the heck is going on?'

        I surveyed the room, looking at all the groups. Of course, there were "The Crack-heads", "MaReKwon-Ha", "The Operator's Ninja Princesses", and "Dinosaur Unicorn Mob Bosses Assassinating Secret Spies Eating Sand" or D.U.M.B.A.S.S.E.S for short. When I had to read the last group's name, I knew that they were messing with me. 

        Well, it was fun for the first few times. 

        Now, it was war. 

        As I analyzed their faces, trying to think of a good strategy, I caught some of them struggling not to laugh. Chase, one of the students in "The Crack-heads" group, would whisper something into Jace's ear and the both of them would snicker. Katya and Camilla, girls who were in the D.U.M.B.A.S.S.E.S. group, would send each other sly glances and mouth words that I couldn't discern. Mason, a boy who was at the same table as them, would smirk and either bow his head or cover his mouth with his hand as soon as he caught himself breaking character. 

        Mason's friend, Dylan, sat diagonally from him. He was the least obvious of them all. He wore black sunglasses (they were not prescription so I'm pretty sure he wasn't supposed to wear them in class) that covered his eyes pretty well. That way, I couldn't tell if he had something mischievous planned like his peers. However, I discovered that he was also in on the game when a grin slowly inched across his face. He tried to play it off by smiling at me but the damage was already done. 

        I knew that they were all in on an inside joke that I was unaware of. Maybe this was the reason why they were such a good team. They were conspiring to pull off a good prank. I smiled, they certainly were committed to it. They also made fine actors, talented at almost making me believe they were innocent little cherubs. I have to admit, they made an entertaining class.

        But, those sneaky little midgets. They thought they could trick me.

        Well, two can play that game.

        My mature side told me that I should just let them have their fun. To just leave them be and allow them to be kids. Another part of me was raging against the other. That side pleaded with me to fight back against these short gremlins. It yearned for glory in this petty little battlefield of immaturity.

        I was trapped in a moral dilemma. Stuck at a crossroads. Should I be the adult that I am and let these kids tarnish my pride? Or should I stoop to their level and seek my justified revenge?

        Ultimately, I chose the latter. 

        I guess this would be a great opportunity to introduce the lesson: 'Respect Your Elders 101'. 

        Cackling inwardly, I devised a plan that I would carry out next week. I had to plot my time carefully and meticulously, striking only when they least expected it. For now, I had to feign ignorance. 

        "You know, I really like your group names," I commented. "They're very creative."'

        A very strange sounding noise from the back of the classroom cut off the rest of my speech. The sound was similar to the bleat of a dying goat. All heads turned to the back of the room to find out what the source of the noise was. 

        "Sorry, I almost snorted out my water," Kwon-Ha explained, coughing. 
        
        Some students shot Kwon-Ha warning looks. Jace made a jabbing motion at Kwon-Ha with his index and middle finger that meant, 'I got my eyes on you'. Kwon-Ha only shrugged nonchalantly and proceeded to drink from his water bottle.

        I continued. "The most memorable group name that I remember was in elementary school. We thought ours sounded really cool. My group was called, 'Moist Members.'"

        Suddenly, there came a sound of water splashing onto the floor. 

        "Miss. [L/N]! I think Kwon-Ha is actually choking!"

        "Somebody call the nurse or something! Looks like we're in deeeeep sh—"

        "It was a pretty crazy class, huh?"

        I gave my co-worker a tired look that meant, 'leave me alone, I don't want to talk about it'. Sadly, they didn't get the memo because they continued talking. 

        "I swear, those kids. School has barely started and they're already up to no good. I heard that one of your students started choking on water in class and another student tried to do the Heimlich Maneuver on him but it backfired. "

        Turning away from them, I rolled my eyes at their gossiping behavior. I tried walking away but they stayed on my trail.

        It was recess time and we were both on yard aid duty. Yard aid duty just meant supervising the children while they played and making sure that no one got hurt. Apparently, it also meant 'spread rumors hour' for my co-worker. 

        "William had those days all the time.  It's amazing how long he was able to put up with them." A first grader happily ran past us, followed by their friend soon after. "I wonder: how long will you last? Well, factoring in your young age, I'm guessing you won't make it to the end of the year. Probably only make it to the second quarter at most. I feel bad, you got the worst students."

        That's it.

        They can insult me all they want but I won't tolerate their condescending behavior towards my kids. Sure, my class could be hard to handle at times but that didn't mean my co-worker had the right to talk bad about them. Especially considering my co-worker didn't know them. 

        I turned around, giving them a disapproving glare. I know that it was harsh but I couldn't stand their attitude anymore. It was disgusting how an adult like them was behaving so pathetically. "Look, can we just focus on our job here? Instead of talking bad about the kids? Eight-year-olds, mind you?"

        I stormed off, leaving them flustered.

        They didn't say another word.

        It was almost time for the kids to go home. The conversation that I had with my co-worker earlier left me in a sour mood that I was unable to shake off. My students could tell that I was upset because they were silent and less enthusiastic with messing around. When the class was focusing on the 'All About Me' assignment that I had passed out earlier after recess, they quickly got started and quit passing each other any furtive side glances. To be honest, the quietude was a little unnerving.

        The class time for the whole day consisted of me walking around the room, giving an overview of the school year, and 13 eight-year-old eyes staring into the depths of my soul. 

        I guess they weren't to blame. 

        Adalia had told me once that I was intimidating whenever I was mad. She said that I was a sweet, kind person and the sudden shift in my demeanor was enough to be scary. 

        A sigh left my lips. 

        Disrupting the silence, I said, "Aren't you guys glad it's a Friday and you have no school tomorrow? When I first came here and learned that school began on a Friday, I was surprised."

        "It's 'cause we're one of the schools that's part of the experiment to see what would happen if school started today, Miss. Birdy," Mari replied, a toothless grin stretched across her face. 

        "Oh, ok. That's pretty cool because you guys get to adjust your sleeping schedule."

        "Yeah."

        "I have another question," I mentioned, walking to the front of my desk to sit on it. That way, I would be able to face the whole class better. "I've just moved here from California a couple of weeks ago and I keep hearing about this 'Operator' guy. I was told that he's really powerful and in charge of everything but, he's also very secretive. I'm wondering if you guys know about him."

        It was as if a balloon popped inside the room as the class started talking all at once about this mysterious figure.

        "Hey, hey, hey! One at a time, please." I shouted, quieting down the commotion.

        "Let Jace talk! He's the leader!" someone volunteered. 

        "Yeah, can I talk?" The whole class settled down as Jace gleefully explained, "The Operator is the best person ever! They're my idol! He's really smart and nice to kids! That's what I heard!"

        "Really? Someone told me that he was evil." I wondered out loud.

        "I bet it was one of the people that don't like the mafia. Those types of people think they're dangerous but that's not true! Sure they kill people but they only kill the bad people!"

         "You guys know about the mafia?"

        The whole class burst into laughter. "Miss. Birdy, just because we're kids doesn't mean we're stupid! Almost everyone at least knows there's someone else who's running this place!"

         I covered my face in embarrassment. Of course they would know, they've lived here their entire life. It would be obvious that they had more street smart than me. "Sorry." I mumbled into my hands. 

       "It's ok, Miss. Birdy! We still like you! You're way better than Mr. William! He was our teacher last year. And he was the worst. Right, guys?"

         A chorus of agreement filled the room. I took my hands off of my face. The students were chattering amongst each other and nodding their heads. They began sharing stories of the contempt they held for their previous teacher. They seemed to hold a lot because they began listing things that he did and his questionable methods of teaching. I grew concerned when I heard one of the students say that he made her feel dumb because of a question that she asked. 

         "And he said, 'Camilla, have somebody else who's smarter than you do your work because it's obvious you don't know what you're doing.' I don't remember his actual words but he said that I was too stupid and unable to do my stuff right. And that I was lazy and never focused when I was supposed to. But, the thing was, I always listened whenever he was teaching. I never talked in his class! You know me, I'm the quiet kid! The reason why I came to him in the first place was because I just never understood the things he was teaching us. I remember I went home crying that day because I felt so dumb. It's because of him that I hate asking questions now." 

        "Oh yeah, I remember that. Remember how we gave him payback after you told us what he did? We locked him outside of his own classroom for the whole day. I remember how we got lunch detention but it was worth it because family sticks up for family!" The class broke out into a series of  'whoop's and 'heck yeah's. I really admired their close bond but, I couldn't stop thinking of the way the previous teacher treated them. It only made me even more angry. 

        "Are all of the teachers like that here?" I asked, my words dripping with disgust. 

        "Only some. The principal wants to replace them but she can't because of how there's already not enough teachers at this school," A girl named Lenna responded. "I'm glad that Mr. W is gone and you're here instead. You seem really nice. Not like any other teachers we had."

        Although I understood that she gave me a compliment, it made me sad how she was happy I was their teacher just because I was nice to them. My heart reached out to them.

        People that were supposed to be the role models they looked up to were the same ones who made them look down at themselves. My brows knitted together in concentration. I needed to make these kids know that there are teachers who actually do care about them and would help them when they needed it the most.

        Hopping off of my desk, I walked over to my students to address them all. 

        "Have you guys ever watched Winnie the Pooh?" I asked. Most of the class shook their heads no. "Well, it's this show that I watched when I was a kid. There was this conversation between two main characters that's glued to my memory. I remember one of them asking the other what would happen if they got separated. The pair became sad thinking about it before one of them said, 'Oh, Pooh. If ever there's a tomorrow when we're not together, there's something you must remember... you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think... but the most important thing is even if we're apart, I'll always be with you.' It means that, yes, life will be hard but I believe that all of you are strong and will get through it. Remember: all of you were created from stars so don't let others darken your light. You are all beautiful and special." I turned and looked at Camilla to assure her individually. "And, Camilla, you're not dumb. Mr. W was wrong about you. You're a smart, brave, strong girl. I can tell. If you ever need help, don't be scared to ask me. That's why I became a teacher in the first place. I want to help you guys be the best you can be." 

         The bell rang. "Alright, guys. End of class. Time for all of you to go home." 

        
        As all the kids gathered their stuff and put on their backpacks, I went to the door to open it for them. I'm not going to lie, it's been a really exhausting day and teaching has not been what I expected. Before, I thought that all teachers pursued teaching because they wanted to help kids realize their full potential. I had assumed that they wanted what was best for the children. However, from the way that the teachers at this school acted towards their students made me understand that some people abuse their power. It was shocking and made me lose some hope in humanity. 

        Forcing myself to wear a smile, I waved bye to my kids and told them to have a good weekend. The students trickled out of the classroom until only Camilla was left. I grinned at her. 

        "Are you going to go home or do you want to stay here and learn about 'The Tragedy of the Commons'?" I playfully asked. 

        She only stared at me, confusion in her face. "What's that?"

        "Oh, it's something you'll learn later. Probably in high school," I chuckled. "Well, are you ready to go?"

        I was pleasantly surprised when she scampered up to me and pulled me into a hug. It was endearing how she only reached up to my stomach and how her tiny arms barely managed to wrap around my waist. 

        "Hope you have a good weekend, Miss. Birdy!"

        And then she ran off, catching up with her friends.

        I smiled to myself, feeling a bit better.

        Putting on my red jacket, I stepped outside.

       It was 5 in the evening and I was touring through New York, admiring its scenery to get rid of all the stress today gave me. A light breeze gently swayed the leaves of the trees scattered here and there throughout the city. The sky was streaked with lines of red, the color reminding me of the Golden Gate Bridge that I visited once back home in California. A bittersweet feeling filled my chest. I love being here to start a new chapter of my life but, at the same time, I miss my friends and family. 
        
        Oh well. Hopefully this homesickness will fade away as I get used to my new environment. 

        In the distance, I see a familiar flickering neon hamburger sign. Soon, the red and white striped awning also came into view as I wandered closer. 

        'Hammon's Hamburgers'.

        My stomach grumbled at the thought of biting into a burger, its delicious juiciness exploding in my mouth. I imagined its texture, the bun's crispiness just right and the tenderness of the beef just how I liked it. My mouth started to water the more I thought about it. I guess it wouldn't hurt to go inside and grab a meal. It was close to dinner time anyway. 
        
        Shrugging, I walked towards the direction of the restaurant. 

        As I did, I recommenced appreciating the beauty of my new home. It was a little crowded but, it wasn't something to get used to. There were always plenty of tourists roaming around back where I used to live.

         In the corner of my eye, a tall man in black attire swiftly walked past me in a hurried but pronounced manner. Several white tendrils were poking through his black trench coat. People were quick to step aside for him, a few of them barely dodging his extra appendages. A distinct scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air, marking his path. A few moments later, he approached the restaurant that I was headed to, grabbed the door handle with long, bony hands, and went inside. A black fedora sat on top of his head, shielding his face. 

        For some reason, he seemed familiar. As if they were a person I had met years ago, time corroding my memories of him. I know that I know him from somewhere; his name was on the tip of my tongue. 

        As curiosity overpowered my thinking, I decided to follow him, reminding myself that I wasn't a stalker because I had already chosen to go to the same location as him anyway. He had just beat me to it. 

        Speed-walking to the entrance of  'Hammon's Hamburgers', I darted and shoved my way through several people, apologizing profusely at some who got annoyed. 

        Finally, I arrived at the restaurant and its glass doors. 

        With the adrenaline from earlier pumping through my veins, I swung open the restaurant's doors, determined to finally catch the guy that I was chasing.

        And, what happened?

        What was inside the restaurant?

        Were there any burgers?

        NO!

        But what was in there?

        There were several burly, intimidating men in suits staring at me, guns in their hands and gold rings shining on their fingers. Cigars hung out of their mouths and the guy that I was after was nowhere to be found. 

        Tense silence penetrated the room. One of the men puffed out a cloud of smoke. 

        "C-can I get a b-burger?" 

        None of the men responded. They only eyed me with a look that I could only describe as: you dead, dumb chick.

        Whattheheckwhattheheckwhattheheck.

        You'resostupidIsweartogod,[Y/N].

        "Ok, so let me just—" I squeezed past the crowd of intimidating people, minding the guns in their hands. Accidentally, I brushed my body against one of them and I mentally cursed myself. "Oh my god, so sorry for that." I awkwardly patted the place where I touched them, not knowing what I was trying to do. 

        I backed away, still apologizing to the man that I brushed past. "I am so, so sorry. I really don't know how that happened. I guess I'm just so—"

        My eyes widened as I felt myself bump against someone.

        "Hello there, sweet-heart. What's a lovely girl like you doing here? You should come with me." 

        I gulped and turned around, only to come face-to-face with a white shirt underneath a black trench-coat. The person chuckled. "My eyes are up here, miss." 

        Trembling with fear, I looked up to see a man with no face. Now I know why he looked so familiar. He was... his... brother. Offenderman. I remember now. 

        "[Y/N]?!" 

        "OFFENDER?!"

        "Ah, crap," he whispered. Addressing the scary people in suits, he said, "Sorry, men. You'll have to excuse us real quick. I apologize for the interruption."

        He grabbed my arm and escorted me outside. He took me to a nearby alleyway beside the restaurant and glanced around the place as if he was checking to make sure that no one had followed us. When he was satisfied, he breathed out a sigh. "Listen, [Y/N]. I'm not who you think I am."

        "What?" 

        "I'm actually not Offender," he confessed. 

        "Then who are you?"

        "I'm actually Trender!"

        "Wait, what?"

        "Yes, I know, I am so talented at mimicking other people, aren't I?" He giggled. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I am so blind right now without my glasses. I can't see a thing. It is the reason why I was late for the deal."

        "Wait, wait, wait. This is all too much to take in. What are you doing here? Who were those people? Why did they have guns?"

        "Oh, I do apologize for not making things clear. That is my fault. Anyway, those men in there were part of a... hmm, how should I put it... an organization. Offender was supposed to meet with them to discuss... a few things but I volunteered instead because I felt like I owed him."

        "Wait, are you The Operator?"

        He laughed for a good few minutes. "Oh, heavens no! I am not made for that. Do you think I would be able to stand getting dirt on my clothes? Speaking of clothes, Offenderman's fashion is atrocious! He dresses like a child predator, and, knowing him, I wouldn't cast that option aside. Hopefully, he isn't."

        "So who is The Operator?! I swear, it's been bugging me everyday! I hear his name everywhere and it's as if this whole city is in on an inside joke that I don't know of! It drives me crazy!" 

        He tilted his head and my breath hitched. I don't know if it was because of the atmosphere or if it was because of Trender's appearance but, this whole situation brought me back to distant memories, to a time long ago. To a person who I was so close to and talked to everyday but now only appears in my dreams. To... him.

        "Hmm..." Trender hummed, putting a finger to his chin. "I tell you what, I won't tell you who The Operator is. But, I will show you to him."

        "Wait, no! I heard he's deadly! What if he kills me?"

        Trender only chuckled. "Oh, I'll tell you now, he won't do anything. In fact, he might even be happy to see you."

        "How do you know?"

        "Trust me," he said in a knowing tone. "Anyway, I've met you just in time! Tomorrow, The Operator is hosting a celebration at 10:30 PM. I was invited and because you want to know who he is so much, I'll bring you with me so that you could meet him! Tomorrow, I'll send a chauffeur to meet you here at Hammon's Hamburgers. Search for a big, black car with the license plate TRNDRMN. It's easy to remember because it's my name without the vowels. Well, I've been here for quite some time now. I should get going. It was nice meeting you again." He turned, fixing his hat.

        "Wait!" I still had one more question. A burning one that immediately came to mind when I first saw him. 
        
        He turned around. "Yes?"

        "How's... How's Slender?"

        His cheekbones lifted, signaling that he was smiling. "He's good."

        "Did he achieve his dreams?"

        "Yes. And much more."

        "What about you?" I asked, not wanting him to leave. Trender was my last connection to Slender and I felt... well, it felt as if Trender's leaving meant the end for ever getting a chance to see Slender again. I was so close to finding him after so many years of searching and if Trender left now, then that was it. Slender would forever be just a memory. A person that would forever be so close yet always slip from my fingertips. 

        "Well, I'm quite successful. I have a fashion brand called, "La Vengeance Royale" now. It's very famous in the UK and Offenderman is helping me to make it famous here in the US also. I'm thankful for him and Slender. They were the ones who helped me become what I am now."

        I smiled. 

        "And, [Y/N]? You'll see him again. Something tells me you will."

        And with that, he turned around and left. 

        As the sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty alleyway, his words echoed in my mind.

        Hope—something that I haven't felt in years—bloomed in my chest and I fought desperately to cling on to it.

'You'll see him again. Something tells me you will.'

Chapter Text

Trenderman smiled to himself as he approached Slenderman. His cousin was pacing around the room again, probably thinking about the outcome of his recent business deal. It was a habit of his to express his thinking through certain actions such as striding back and forth across an area.

        The sound of his heavy footsteps reverberated throughout the room. There was a certain tempo to it like a steady rhythm in the background of a song. Thud. Thud. Thud. Even Trender was starting to become affected by Slender's repetitive treading as anticipation filled him for no reason. 

        Out of all of them, Slenderman was the one who understood on a profound level that their success was built on pillars made of rocks that could crumble at any moment. 

        It was for this reason that Slenderman was regarded as the leader of the three brothers even though Offender was the eldest. Slenderman possessed qualities that Offender didn't have. Although Offenderman was an esteemed mafioso himself that was highly respected by many, Slenderman was the smartest and the wisest of the three. His talent and insight was what helped the brothers escape their near downfalls several times. Like a chess master, every move he made was calculated and premeditated.

        However, it was during moments like these that Trender was reminded that his cousin was not as stolid as he seemed. Slender was just like the rest of them, susceptible to anxiety and capable of having emotions.

         And, despite Slender's callous exterior, Trenderman noted that his cousin surprisingly held a high amount of tolerance for his brothers' antics. Especially for Splendorman, the youngest of the crew. That was a talent in itself. The hyper, rambunctious teen was no doubt difficult to control. He seeked the adventure in life and was the most care-free compared to his older relatives. Trenderman loved his attitude and was grateful that there was someone who remained laid-back in a household full of seriousness but, he could only stand his overwhelming behavior to a certain extent. Still, he loved him like a brother. 

        "Look who's finally back!" A deep, raspy voice greeted Trenderman. Trender came to an abrupt pause and turned around to see Offender coming over to offer him a hug, his arms open wide. Offender was clad in only a black, silk robe that was tied just above his waist. His intertwined blue and red rose tattoo that sat positioned on his left pec was visible on his muscular, bare chest. His signature hat hung over his face, casting a shadow that made his sharp-toothed smirk appear dangerous and mocking. 

        "Please, put some clothes on before you lay a finger on me!" Trender cried out, exasperated. "I don't want your bare skin touching mine. Who knows where-" Trender made a motion with his hands, gesturing Offender's almost nude body. "-this has been!"

        Trender threw a look at Slender in a desperate plea for help. With a long exhale, Slender trudged towards the duo, exhausted. His current condition contrasted to his usual air of class with the top two buttons of his white dress shirt unfastened and its sleeves hastily crumpled up to his elbows. "Come on, Offender, we have rules in this house. Such as: put on a decent amount of clothing because no one wants to see your dong lazily hanging about, swinging this way and that as if it were swatting flies," Slender chided his older brother. 

        "Ah, but that's where you're wrong," Offender protested. "The ladies love this big guy!" He proceeded to shake his hips back and forth, putting his hands behind his head.

        Slender averted his gaze while Trender shielded his own face with his hand.

        "Goodness gracious, Offender! You're the eldest so act like it!"

        "For heaven's sake, Offender, my eyes feel violated and I don't even have any!"

        Still shielding his face, Trender pushed Offender and turned him around. "Go. Get. Dressed!" 

        Offender relented. "Okay, okay, fine!" He removed his hands from his head and left the room. In the distance, he shouted, "Big man just wanted to feel the breeze!"

        "You're disgusting!" Trender responded.

        "Hell yeah, baby!" Offender shouted back.

        It was often like this in the Slender Mansion. Even though there were several rules put into place by the middle brother, Offender and Splendor would still manage to break them. Splendor more so than Offender. On the other hand, Trender abided by the rules most of the time because he understood how tiring it was for Slenderman to keep everything in order. Like his cousin, Trenderman was a perfectionist. He wanted everything to be just right and organized. For the fashion designer, being in a chaotic environment was distracting and prevented him from achieving his true potential where all his best ideas resided. 

        But, Trender didn't want to complain too much about it to Slender. Slender had to deal with much more stress considering he was The Operator. Slender was the one who ran all the deals, called all the shots, assigned all the right people to all the right jobs, and also bear with the forever present paranoia that came with the lavishness of being the head of a criminal syndicate. Slender had described it as being untouchable but knowing that you were just as fragile as anybody else. He explained that you always had to be checking who was at the door, minding your enemies, and always living on edge. Your connections needed to be people you can trust and it was for this reason why it was so hard to join the mafia. Slender had to make sure that the people he let in were loyal to the "family". 

        "You have to watch out especially for the ones who are closest to you. They're like piranhas. Ready to bite you."

        Of course, Trender knew that neither he or his other cousins would ever betray Slenderman. Though Trender was only a cousin, the three brothers didn't think of him as one. They thought of him as more than that. As a brother. As a tight companion. As one of them.

        Ever since the tragic circumstance that took the lives of the people that they loved the most, the brothers relied strongly on one another. The bond between them grew throughout the years, their connection became almost tangible. If there was someone that Slender can put his utmost trust in, it would be them.

        "Where's Splendor?" Trender asked. 

        "I made him go to sleep. He has zero period tomorrow and I don't want him to be late for Miss. Shanna's class..." Slender glanced at the floor as if trying to figure something out.
        
        "Is something on your mind?"

        Slender scratched his head, abashed at his question. "What does 'ok boomer' mean?"

        "Did Splendor say that to you?"

        Slender nodded his head.

        "Oh, don't worry about it. It's just something that the teens say nowadays."

        "Ah, ok."

        Trender didn't make an effort to inform Slenderman that the term was actually regarded as an insult. He knew that it would take about an hour just to explain the phrase. The last time Trender attempted to teach Slender modern slang was when Slender had asked what 'ligma' meant. While Trender was trying to tell Slender that it was just a funny play on words, Slender wanted to know the whole history of the supposed disease.

        Trender reached into Offender's trench-coat and pulled out his glasses case from an inside pocket. He took his glasses from the case and put them on. Afterward, he shook the trench-coat off, took off Offender's hat, and placed both articles of clothing on the couch behind him. He plopped down onto it, releasing a satisfied sigh. 

        "Ugh. I'm so glad that I took that off. It felt like I was going to flash some elementary-schoolers." 

        "So." Slender ambled over to Trenderman so that he was directly in front him. He leaned against a small-sized glass table that was behind him and crossed his arms. "How was the deal? You took longer than I expected. I was about to send some men over to check if you were still alive. Did they agree to our proposition?"

        Trender gave him an easy grin, his blank face making indents in certain areas. "It was rocky at first, I must admit. But, ultimately, they agreed. After all, it was an offer that they simply couldn't refuse. You know, the actual meeting didn't really take that long. The reason why I took up more time than needed is because... well, let's just say that you should expect a certain special guest to attend the celebration tomorrow."

        At this, Slender leaped forward in surprise. "Who's coming? Zalgo? Come on, Trender. You know how I feel about surprises and last minute warnings. I would've prepared the party so that it would better accommodate him and his crew."

        "Oh, don't worry about anything my dear cousin."

        "How can you say that under these conditions?" Slender fretted.

        Trender didn't answer his question and changed the subject instead. "By the way, did you know that it's rumored that Miss. Shanna wants to ask you out on a date one of these days?"

        Slender scoffed. "Oh, please. She's the same as the others. Assumes that I'm a business man and only wants me for my money." 

        "But, wouldn't you say that she's attractive?" 

        Trender smirked as Slender failed to stop a light red blush and a childish grin from forming on his face. "You know that there's only one woman on my mind," he muttered almost inaudibly, not making eye-contact with Trender but instead staring intently at the ground. He lazily kicked an imaginary soccer-ball on the floor and shoved his hands bashfully into his pockets. "I want to see Birdy again, I promised her I would."

        Trender's grin grew wider. There was only one person who could transform The Operator from a cold, uncaring man to a mumbling mess of a 5-year-old boy. Her name was [Y/N], referred to as Birdy by Slender, and if he didn't get those two married with 2 or 3 children by the end of the year, then he failed his purpose as a master match-maker, stubborn ship steerer, and president of his OTP, one true pairing, fan club. If he didn't get those two together, then he was going to stop believing in the thing called love and live his remaining days like Offender, who had a partner assigned for every day of the week. 

        "How long have you been waiting for her?" Trender teased his younger cousin.

        "Seven years," Slender replied, unaware that Trender was only teasing him. "I wonder what she looks like now."

        "You look pretty..." Trender commented, his sentence wavering off at the end. 

        "But...?" I asked.

         Trenderman had just picked me up from Hammon's Hamburgers. It was 10:00 PM, 30 minutes earlier than the intended schedule because Trenderman had things planned for me and didn't want to be extremely late to the party for it. Earlier in the day, I had bought some chocolate chip cookies for The Operator just in case we met. I don't know, it seemed like a polite thing to do even if it seemed kind of stupid. I'm pretty sure he bought chocolate chip cookies off of the black market.

        When I was searching for some cookies throughout the store aisles, a random stranger dressed in a normal outfit handed me a piece of paper that told me to meet Trender at 9:50 PM for a reason that was unbeknownst to me. I assumed that the stranger was in the mafia but remained undercover during the day. 

       As I was waiting for Trenderman to arrive at Hammon's Hamburgers, a black Rolls Royce Phantom pulled up beside me. I had widened my eyes at the expensive sports car as Trender climbed out. 

        'Are we actually going to crash the party with this?' I had asked.

        'No, [Y/N], we're going to arrive there with my kiddie trike stroller, it's in the trunk. Do you want to drive or be the one to push me around the place?'

         'Oh, um...'

          'Oh, [Y/N], I'm just joking with you. Of course, we're going to crash the party with this car. I only want to provide you with a great vehicle to step out of when we arrive at the celebration.  I was planning to use the limousine at first but that car was too long.'

        He had money, no second guessing about that. It was obvious.

        I had felt rather awkward standing there with a store-bought box of chocolate chip cookies in my arms when Trenderman unknowingly flexed on me with his Rolls Royce. All I remember was thinking that I could've used the car to pay for this month's rent. 

        Now, Trender and I were just catching up on all the things we missed throughout the years. He was my best friend back in high school aside from Slender. We became very close and clicked instantly. Then, he sadly moved to college a year before us when we were still juniors and he was a senior. I only met up with him a few times after that because he was stressed from college and I was stressed from high school. In the car, he told me about how much things have changed since then. For example, Offender was now part of the mafia and was The Operator's right hand man. Splendor also joined but The Operator was still teaching him the ropes. When I was about to ask him if Slender was also in it, he changed the subject and started talking about my dress. 

        It was okay if my question wasn't answered about Slender. I knew that he wouldn't want to be a part of them anyway. He would hate being in that sort of thing. I just couldn't picture him, a dorky, animal and environment facts obsessed, shy, reserved, all around sweet guy going around making hardened thugs scared only by an utter of his name. This was the guy who saved a hummingbird that had broken their wing and tended to it with a soft approach like a mother even though we were at school and he couldn't bring animals. 

        This was the guy who was famous for always having creatures hidden in his backpack in middle school. I had smiled as I remembered that on the day we first met, he walked up to me and asked me if I wanted to see something cool. I had agreed, being the easily excitable girl that I was, and he fully unzipped his backpack, a cluster of baby bunnies curiously popped their small, baby heads out of the bag and stared at us.

       Not even in my wildest dreams could I imagine a guy like him be an intimidating mafia boss. He wouldn't hurt a fly, much less other people. Besides, I wouldn't want him to live a life like that, always making sure that the law would never catch him. I knew that he was probably either a park ranger or a veterinarian by now. He always had a heart for animals. He was a kind, loving guy; that's what made me fall for him in the first place.

        My thoughts were interrupted by Trender's voice.

        "At least, you would look pretty if you were a middle-aged mother—"

        "Ouch."

        "—attending her daughter's ballet recital! [Y/N], you're not attending one of those support groups for newly made moms!"

        "You're hurting my ego, Trender, plus it's only a party. Besides taking a peep at who The Operator is, I'm only going to go there for the food."

        "But, this is a party, hosted by The Operator! The Operator! The outfits that are worn there are eye-popping. I admit, I love your style—"

        "What do you mean, you admit?! My style is beautiful! You—" I eyed Trender, my old best friend, up and down in a playful manner. "—on the other hand look like a grandfather with your brown vest and glasses. So old-school!"

        "—but it simply wouldn't work in your favor later during the party! Your style could be described as a soft girl meets a politician who decide to procreate but, the style at the party is different. Really different. Imagine going-to-a-strip-club-at-midnight-but-Hunger-Games-style different. The goal isn’t to kill everybody else or die but to wear less clothing than everybody else and brag to your shallow friends that your virginity was stolen by a random loser that claimed to be part of the mafia but in truth still lived in his mom’s basement!”

        "Oof. That's, like, so specific. Are you sure you're not telling me your life's story?"

        He only ignored me. "Common decency has been thrown out the window, ran over by a semi-truck 5 times, and electrocuted by lightning. The dresses and outfits are so scantily clad that there’s barely anything on. I remember that there was this one girl who showed up wearing nothing but a red, lace bra, a matching thong, and some red high heels.”        

        “Let me guess, did her and Offender get it on?”

        “Well, of course. In fact, they were getting it on right there at the dance floor for everybody else to unfortunately see. I was so scared that they were going to decide to do the dirty in front of crowds of people but, Splendor, he was the DJ, by the way—"

        "Aww, my little, baby cinnamon roll bun is a DJ now! I'm so proud of him!"

        "I know right?! He's so talented at it, too. But, anyway, Splendor was just doing his thing, blasting the music that everyone likes, but, when he saw Offender and that woman looking like they were eating each other's faces and groping each other's bodies like there was no tomorrow, he just quit."

        "Like, as in, actually quit? Throw his hands up in the air quit?"

        "Oh, yes, let me tell you what happened. He saw them, turned the music and the disco lights off, flipped the actual lights on, grabbed his DJ equipment, and said, 'Aight imma head out. I'm done with this shit. Abso-fucking-lutely done. I am not going to take the practice SAT with this image burned into my memory as I stare at the problem: If Jenna is eating two McDonald's egg McMuffins how the fuck is she getting high on fucking liquid weed?' and he just left! Just like that! With everybody left in confusion!"

        "He cusses now?"

        "Well, he isn't nine anymore, sweet-heart."

        "Oh my god, he's 16 now, huh?!"
        
        "Yup. So much time has passed since you were gone, [Y/N]. But, anyway, when all of that happened, Offender and the woman were still in their own world and everybody started leaving."

        "Where was Slender?"

        Trender chuckled. "Nowhere to be found. 0Probably dying of embarrassment."

        "Where were you?"

        "Trying to pry the two love-birds off of each other," he shivered. "I almost got pulled into their, ahem, intimate moment. If I didn't smack Offender upside the head, it would've been the worst threesome of my life."

        "EW, TRENDER! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THAT!"

        Trender laughed. "Relax, sweetie, I'm only joking. But, let me say, it was like a match made in the second circle of hell."

        "Is Offender pansexual? It seems like he'll do it with anybody."

        "Nope. Just sexual."

        "Ah. Makes sense."

       "Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that the people at the party are going to laugh at you when you get there."      

       "Gee, thanks homie. That really boosted my self-esteem."

       "You're welcome, sweet-heart. But, [Y/N], you have nothing to fear because your fairy godmother Trenderman is here! I'll make you look like a goddess with a great bodice! You need a bippity-boppity-boo? Honey, I've got you!"

        I laughed. "Why did that rhyme?"

        "Just another one of my plethora of talents. Well, first off, let's start with your dress. I don't want you wearing something floral. We want you to stand out on the dance floor, not look like you're going to plant flowers in your garden. My vision is a sexy she-devil. Not an innocent angel."

        I was thankful that there was a window that separated the chaffeur and Trenderman and I. The things that we were talking about were questionable. We soon arrived at a clothing store. 

        Trenderman and I stepped out of the Rolls Royce and I felt like a movie star as everyone turned their heads to stare at us. 

        "Oh, yeah, the baddest bitches are here," Trender smirked. 

        We walked to the entrance of the store and I was blown away by the range of clothing styles inside. It fully encompassed all types of outfits and suited everybody's clothing needs. "Wow..." I said in awe. 

        "Do you like it? La Vengeance Royale prides itself on making clothes for everybody in all styles, shapes, and sizes. If you can't find your style anywhere else, I promise you that you'll find it here."

        "This is your brand?!" I exclaimed, gazing at all the dresses, suits, regular shirts, jeans, socks, every type of garment that a person could think of. "It's amazing! I'm so proud of you!"

        "Really? Thanks. Your appreciation means a lot to me. After all, you were the one who encouraged me to follow my dreams," he uttered sheepishly.  

        I looked at up at Trenderman, my face beaming with pride. "I always knew you had it in you."

        "Well, enough of this gushy stuff. Let's go find you a dress." 

        After what felt like hours, we finally found a dress for me. It was a nice mix of cute and daring at the same time. I stared at myself in the mirror, studying how the cobalt blue clothing complemented my skin tone. The dress was backless with sleeves that reached my wrist. It accentuated all the right curves on my body and hid the ones that were not so flattering.

        The only problem was my confidence. I've never worn anything this revealing before and to be honest, I felt naked. 

        In a shy manner, I stepped out of my dressing room to show Trenderman and the whole team of workers that he gathered to help me. "Trender, I feel like Rufus from Kim Possible." 

        "Nonsense you look—dang [Y/N]! You look like a slim-thick queen! Turn around, sweetie! Show your fairy godmother that twirl!"

         I did what he told me and spun around, the workers applauding and cheering. I felt myself grow embarrassed yet, my confidence was starting to increase. 

         "AMAZING! You have me asking who Kim Kardashian is! Flutter those eyelashes, [Y/N]! Yasss, sweet-heart!"

         I batted my eyelashes and felt like a bad girl with every compliment that they showered me with. "Careful, Trender. All of this might go to my head," I chuckled, feeling the best that I've ever been.

        "Come on, [Y/N], we're buying that."

        "How much does it cost?" I asked one of the workers. 

        "Well," she went up to me and grabbed the price tag that was attached to the back of my dress. "About 2,000 dollars."

        I almost choked on my own saliva. "What?! That's way more than what my own life is worth!"

        "Well, it's a good thing your fairy godmother is rich," Trender replied, pulling out a Gucci wallet. He took out his platinum credit card and I felt my jaw drop. He was rich, rich, rich. I could smell the cash that was in his bank account.

        "Can't relate," I said, remembering the endangered dollars in mine. 

        "Come on, [Y/N], we still have to find you shoes, style your hair, and search for the perfect makeup artist."

        "But, Trender, can't we just go to the party now?" I complained. "I'm only going there for the food and I am hungry! Yo tengo hambre!" 

        "Sorry, sweetie. No can do. You're going to lose your virginity tonight." 

        That snapped me out of my whining. "TRENDER, NO!"

        "TRENDER, YES!"

        "TRENDER, PLEASE!"
        
        He chuckled. "Sweetie, I'm just being sarcastic again. I'm not serious all the time. However, I'm calling it if you really do get deflowered."

        I punched him playfully on the arm. "You remind me too much of Offender."

        "Ew, don't compare me to him." A laugh came out of him, ringing with humor. 

        I giggled as I followed him to the cash register, speed-walking just so I could catch up to his long-legged strides. Something told me that this was going to be a long night.

        The woman stared up at the mansion in astonishment, her eyes wide with wonder. "That is a huge house," she simply pointed out, talking more to herself rather than anybody else. A box of cookies was held from under her right arm, the chocolate chip desserts sliding against the plastic container that trapped it inside. 

        Her tall, faceless companion smiled, the outline of his sharp cheekbones becoming more defined. "And even more people inside. Come with me, I know a separate entrance so we don't get pushed around through the crowds of people entering through the front." He offered her a black, gloved hand, having changed his attire before arriving at the party. His brown vest from earlier was now a dashing brown, leather coat that reached to his knees. It was adorned over a black turtleneck that matched his black pants.

        She gladly took his hand, her focus still on the towering house above her.

        The pair weaved through the crowds of people, some of them with barely any clothes on. They passed a lanky clown with a black and white striped cone for a nose. Birdy noticed that their nose matched the black and white pattern of their tie that hung around their neck. Their spiky hair moved up and down as the clown nodded their head at Trender, acknowledging his presence. The clown only stared at the lady, their gaze unwavering until eventually, the young woman broke eye-contact with them, feeling pressured from their unblinking eyes. 

        They passed through other scary-looking people, too. During one instance, the girl bumped into a well-dressed man with a blue mask, an unknown black ooze dripping from the mask's holes where the eyes were supposed to be. However, there were none. Instead, a black abyss took its place. The woman tried hard not to shiver. She didn't know how Trender carried himself with such confidence when she herself was feeling unnerved from their auras.

        It wasn't because of their appearances that she was feeling creeped out. Her best friend was a faceless entity and she never felt scared when she was with him. No. Rather, their hardened, unrelenting stares was what made her feel frightened. She felt as if they were glaring daggers into her back, their intimidating glowers burning holes into her soul.

        Finally, they arrived at a black, steel door situated near the back of the mansion. There was a silver, sliding, rectangular peephole that was attached to it. Trenderman knocked on the door three times before the peephole slid open, a pair of slanted red eyes behind it. The person guarding the door saw Trender and nodded before opening the entryway to let him inside. 

        The door opened wide, revealing a short, red lit hallway that was connected to a spacious and wide room full of dancing strippers, gangsters with tattoos etched on their skin, mafia members with wine glasses in their hands, and people doing rounds of who knows what on tables that were spread around the room. Rays of alternating dark blue, red, purple and white lights were dancing around the room, loud music blasting along with their movements. The lady felt herself shrink, her social battery slowly dying as she realized that maybe this environment wasn't for her. The music faded into the background as the young woman was forcefully brought back to dark places.

        The beautiful, blue dress suddenly felt too tight and the woman felt more and more aware of the cold stares that lingered on her, waiting for her next move, waiting for her to do something wrong. Cigarette smoke wafted through the air and suffocated her lungs as [Y/N] unconsciously reached for an inhaler that helped her asthma even though she had outgrown the condition years ago. 

        The box of cookies that she held against her suddenly became a heavy burden that she didn't want to carry. She felt herself become increasingly claustrophobic and wanted nothing more than to run back home, back to her safe place, back to her quiet comfort. She wanted to call Adalia and let her lulling voice that came through the receiver calm her down. She wasn't supposed to be here. It was dangerous. Something could happen. A gun fight, a mass shooting, an event that would get someone killed.

        Her mind flashed back to her college years at a party similar to this one. At first, everything was going great. [Y/N] was enjoying herself while Adalia, drunk out of her mind, was belting out an Adele song near a karaoke machine. People's bodies were dancing to the music, laughing and applauding Adalia's voice. Everyone was either high, drunk, making out, or lying unconscious on the floor. Except for [Y/N]. She was stone cold sober and laughing at everyone's states. 

        Until it happened.

        First, came a girl's shrill scream. 

        Next, came the sound of a gunshot. 

        Third, came the constricting feeling that swelled in [Y/N]'s chest. 

        After, came the rough shove of people running to get out of the room.

        Fifth, came the sensation of someone grabbing her wrist and pulling her out of the wave of screaming college kids. It was Adalia, now sobered up and serious, yelling something that [Y/N] couldn't decipher. 

        Finally, sounds of gunshots—11, 12, the woman didn't remember—cracked through the air and multiple people dropped to the floor. People that she didn't know, people that she did, people that she glimpsed as she walked through the school's hallways, fell like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. It all happened so fast. At first, they were partying, laughing their guts out and the next, their lifeless eyes were staring up at her from the floor.

        As she felt Adalia dragging her out of the room, a prevalent and mundane question echoed throughout her head. 

        Are they dead or just sleeping?

        The day after, Adalia told her that there was an unidentified shooter that somehow made it into the party. They didn't attend the college, they were just a random person who had somehow managed to get past the high security the school had. Just like that. Walked into the room and started shooting college students who were just trying to have a good time. 

        Adalia told her that she didn't remember all that had happened, only the part where she was escaping the room. All of the other surviving students felt the same. They didn't remember all of the details, only fragments of it. They didn't remember how quick everything had happened. How easily everything changed. 

        They didn't remember any of it.

        But, [Y/N] did. 

        She remembered everything.
       
        She had thought that she had gotten over the event. She had thought that the continuous years of therapy finally eased her anxiety and covered up the occurrence, pushing the dark memory into the depths of her mind. She had thought that she was strong enough to enter this party but, she thought wrong. 

        She was going to get hurt.

        She was going to see someone die.

        She was going to see lifeless bodies drop dead.

        She was going to become like th—
       

       
        "[Y/N], are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick."

        Trender's voice snapped her back to reality.

        "Uh, yeah... Yeah. Yeah. I'm all good," Birdy responded, not sounding convincing at all. Her eyes flitted in their sockets, scanning everything with a newfound sense of alertness. 

        "Okay..." came Trender's unsure reply. 

        Before [Y/N] was able to step through to enter the party, the person guarding the door stopped her by blocking her with an arm. He was wearing a black mask with red eyes and wore a yellow dress shirt underneath a black suit. A black bow-tie was wrapped around his neck and it matched the color of his gloves.

        "Who is she?" the guard asked Trender in a cautious tone. 

        "She's the special guest," Trender answered, a knowing smirk highlighting his blank face.

        The answer seemed to satisfy him and he removed his arm to let the woman enter. As she did, he gave her the same stare that everyone seemed to be giving [Y/N]. She walked through the doorway, her box of cookies now clutched against her chest. 

        "Come on, let's go search for The Operator who you've been dying to see."

        Birdy followed Trender as they maneuvered the way throughout the party. She had to hold on to Trender's sleeve in order not to get lost in the crowd as everyone pushed against her, leaving her feeling as if she was stuck in a tidal wave. 

         After a few minutes, [Y/N] realized that they were heading to the front of the room where the DJ was. Trender stuck close to the walls and the young woman trailed closely behind him, not straying too far in fear that she would be swept away by the crowd and lose him in the sea of people.

         [Y/N] noticed that there was a bar at the far side of the room where a few men in expensive outfits sat on barstools, a discussion present among them. A couple of women with hour-glass bodies wore see-through dresses and were trying to get their attention by touching them on the shoulder, back, and even tried hugging them. 

         At another table, there was a group of bad-ass looking women all wearing the same red high-heels. Some men were checking them out and one of them tried to make a move by groping an individual girl's breasts. They weren't able to get anywhere, though, because another one of the girls kicked him where the sun didn't shine. The man dropped to the floor, cupping their nether places in pain. 

         Other than those people, everyone seemed to be having fun and dancing along to the music. 

         The young woman felt her fear subside and ease away slowly when she realized it wasn't as bad and dangerous as she thought. Her tight grip on the cookie box slackened as she relaxed. She told herself to take a deep inhale and do a mini, little mindfulness moment exercise. Her senses that were once clouded with anxiety now cleared and she became more at peace.

         "Ok, I want you to get behind me because we're near The Operator," Trender told the woman, gently pushing her behind him.  

         Birdy hid herself behind him, eyeing the chocolate chip cookies that were in her arms. She was trying to figure out a plan on how to hand it to the mafia boss without being awkward. 

         The pair stepped up on a ramp that led to where Splendorman, Offenderman, and most importantly The Operator was. The group was waiting for Trenderman who had told them that there would be a meeting with a special guest at around 11:00 PM, 30 minutes after the party had started. They had planned to stay with Splendorman at the DJ equipment to make sure that they would be able to spot Trender and the guest in the ocean of gangsters and people before the meeting. After, Offender, Trender, the guest, and The Operator would move to The Operator's office to discuss things thoroughly without having to worry about any unknown enemies being able to listen in. In case something went wrong, Jane, Clockwork, Masky, and Toby were to be in the same room as them. The only problem was that the meeting was already past the time when it was supposed to start.

        ". . .the hell is Trender? Hoodie told me that he was already here with the guest."

         Birdy's eyes widened in excitement as she heard a familiar sounding voice, albeit a bit different and in a much deeper tone. She tried to take a peep around Trender's body to see if it was who she really thought it was but, he prevented her from doing so. 

        "Calm down, brother. If he doesn't arrive in the next 20 minutes, we'll search for him. But, I'm highly sure he's safe."

         Unbeknownst to Trender, the young woman snuck a peek to see who the voices belonged to, disappointed to only see a couple of men with their backs turned towards her. Their faces were unseen and [Y/N]'s anticipation was rising higher and higher. 

         "Offender's right, cousin. You don't have to worry about me." Trender stated from behind The Operator and The Hitman. Both of them turned to look at Trender, The Operator expecting to see Zalgo with him. 

          But, what he received was something better. 

         "Or should I say The Operator?" Trenderman stepped aside, revealing [Y/N] in her stunning cobalt blue dress, matching blue makeup, and styled hair that perfectly framed and added to her beauty. In her arms, she presented a platter of cookies that she bought for the mafia boss. An expression of shock and disbelief was plastered on her face.

         If Slender had a face, he would have had the same expression as his little birdy's. 

         [Y/N] was the first to break the silence as three words came out of her mouth. "No. Flipping. Way." She suddenly dropped the container of cookies, and it lay forgotten on the ground as she ran towards Slender and jumped into his arms, tears of joy, disbelief, and indescribable happiness threatening to fall out of her eyes. It was a culmination of seven, long, hard years without him, her childhood friend, her bestest friend, her love, her soulmate, finally over. Those days of missing what it felt like to be with him was over. Those days of wondering what he was doing was over. Those days of questioning herself if she had took him for granted was over. 

          Through the course of the seven years, her memory of him had began to fade and she had fought to keep him, his image, in her mind. However, it was never the same. It was always chipped at the edges, always missing something important. There were moments where she became scared because she couldn't remember the sound of his voice. 

         Through the course of the seven years, her heart had eased her pain, the hurt from missing him transformed into a dull throb. There were days where she wasn't affected by the pain of reminiscing when she heard someone who had the same voice as him or displayed the same personality as him. On some days, when she was doing the most trivial tasks, however, she would break down into tears if she caught sight of the most mundane objects that reminded her deeply of him. It was stupid, she knew. However, for some reason, she just could never move on from him. 

         Now, he was here. And she was running, flying, trying to reach him and touch him and make sure that he wasn't just a dream. Not just a mere figment of her imagination. She had to prove and make sure that he was really there and not just her eyes playing tricks on her.

          And Slender proved it. He caught her in his lean, strong arms, holding her so tight, afraid that if he didn't, she would disappear again. He buried his head into her hair as he murmured the words, "Yes, flipping way." He waited so long for this moment. To feel her in his arms again. To feel her warmth mingle with his. And he wasn't about to let that all go. He wasn't about to let her go. Not again. Not ever.

          The reunited duo almost fell to the ground as they held tightly on to each other, grasping on to the other. There were no passionate kisses, no rough touches involved. It was only an innocent love, simply a pair of soulmates finally finding each other again when they had thought it had been impossible.

           It was as if time had stopped for the two. They were not aware that Splendorman had stopped the music, smiling widely, happy for them. They were not aware of Trenderman's proud beam at them. They were not aware of Offender's soft, genuine smile, one that had no sign of naughty intent. Even he understood that the pair's bond was something that was pure and modest, free from anything that was corrupted. After all, he was the eldest brother. He was the one who truly witnessed how their relationship had blossomed throughout the years. 

          They were not aware that a mass of people were staring up at them in shock. People who worked under Slender were staring at him in surprise, having not known this side of their ruthless Operator. Although the proxies heard of the rumors of the singular woman on the 'no-harm' list, they had never thought they would actually see her with their boss. 

          The pair was not aware of anything. They were simply laughing, crying, basking in the relief of seeing each other again. 

          They had so much to talk about but, for now, they just wanted to savor the moment of finally seeing each other again. Just knowing that the other was safe and in their arms was more than enough.

"I missed you so much, Birdy."

"I missed you too, dum-dum."

Chapter Text

"Oh shit, bro. I think that's her."

BEN shoved his partner and forced him to look at the stage where a certain abductee that they failed to kidnap was hugging another certain boss of theirs.

"Are you sure?" Jeffrey's lidless eyes narrowed at BEN who was slick in a green vest over a formal white buttoned up shirt. His black jeans blended well with the near pitch black environment, save for the stray disco light beams that would occasionally shine on it.

Jeffrey's constricted blue eyes were bloodshot, partly due to the alcohol from his beer but mostly due to the lack of sleep he had gotten over the past two nights. After an ominous phone call from the head honcho, Jeffrey found that he was too terrified to rest. Especially since his other partner, newly made man Richard, was found dead hours after the call, a gunshot hole penetrating cleanly through his forehead. The first one to stumble upon his corpse was his daughter, Jeff had heard. When Richard was still alive, he told him that she recently turned eight and had just celebrated her birthday last week. He had bought a special present for her, a stuffed animal, Jeff recalled.

Richard could never stop talking about his daughter. He was always talking about the things she was doing, how much he loved her and how she was his light in the dark world that he was forced to work in. He didn't want to be involved with the mafia because of his daughter but life had dealt him poor cards and he needed to find a way to make money for his kid. Richard's father had been an associate for the mafia and Richard was pressured to follow his footsteps. Richard became a made man, a soldier for the "family". Unlike his father who was merely connected to the mafia, Richard was inducted into it. After he became a part of the family, he was able to buy everything his kid's heart desired.

'She's daddy's little girl and she knows it,' Richard described her, always with that slight grin that he reserved just for her.

It was a shame that Richard's little girl had to be the first to see his dead corpse.

'Jesus Christ,' Jeff had said underneath his breath when he first heard the news about the tragedy. 'He's heartless.'

'He' referring to The Operator. And, Jeff was right. The Operator was known for being merciless as his death toll was in the double digits and would no doubt soon hit triple.

As Jeff stared with an unblinking gaze at the scene on the stage, the call he had with The Operator came rushing back with such clarity as if it happened just yesterday. The Operator's voice rang in his mind, saying words that would haunt him forever.

'I had heard that The Hitman had assigned you to a kidnapping, correct?"

'Yes, sir.' Jeff had fought to keep a steady voice, to keep a calm facade. It was difficult, however, when he had to choose what he said with heavy caution because the person on the other end was his Three Fates, his Grim Reaper. The one who could kill him with just a few words and a single phone call.

'Meredith, I assume? The woman who had incriminating evidence that could have been used against us?'

'Yes, sir.'

'You disposed of her, I hope?'

'As you wished.'

'Good. If not, then you know what would've happened to you.'

'Of course.'

'You have already failed me once, Jeffrey Woods. I wouldn't want you to fail me again. For my sake and for yours.'

'Never again, sir.'

'You know, Jeffrey, you make for a fine actor.'

'Sir-'

'No, Jeffrey. I believe you know where I'm going with this. She was a pretty lady, wasn't she?'

Jeffrey had felt his breath hitch.

'Now, tell me the truth, Mr. Woods. For the family, admit what you've done.'

Tears pricked Jeff's eyes as he struggled to retain his composure. It suddenly became hard to swallow, the lump in his throat felt like rocks lodged inside his esophagus. 'Sir, I...'

'You've already been broken, Jeffrey. It would be a shame if I put you out of the business altogether, wouldn't it? Like a father casting out his prodigal son. So, tell me truth. Only, don't tell me you're innocent. It insults my intelligence and that makes me angry.'

'It was the rookie, boss,' Jeff admitted. He bit his tongue. He knew that he just ratted his fellow partner out. He knew it was a bad choice. He knew that it made him a rat, a snitch, a bad person but, to him, the action was justified. Jeff knew that in this world, the only person who could save your hide was yourself. For Jeffrey, the choice always came down to either him or another person that was going to face the brunt of The Operator's punishment. Jeffrey had rather it be the latter than him instead. He finally crumbled and before he could think about the consequences, he stated, 'The rookie was the one who put the gun to her head.'

'Hmm...' At that moment, Jeff knew that he was safe. He had a pass. It wasn't going to be him who had to be clipped tonight. 'If you fail me again, Jeffrey, you would wish that you had said you were the one who put a gun against Miss. [L/N]'s temple.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Tell your partner to go to sleep for me, Jeffrey. I would imagine that he could use a little rest after all that he's been through.'

'As you desire, sir.'

'Goodnight, Mr. Woods.'

Hours later, a young girl would be crying her heart out. It was ironic. She had just turned eight about a week ago and her birthday present would be living the rest of her life fatherless.

"We should get out of here," BEN said, snapping Jeff out of his deep thoughts.

"We should," agreed Jeff.

Together, they discreetly made their way out of the mansion, passing awe-struck mafiosos and gang members. They sped to a near sprint as they neared the stage that held the boss and the young woman on the 'no-harm' list. Finally, they made it out. Alive, unscathed, and breathing.

But, who knows how long it will stay that way? This was a world where funerals were more common than birthdays after all.

I bit into the last of my cookie, holding my hand up in case some crumbs came falling out. Slender and I were in his office, talking to each other and catching up on the years that we missed.

Earlier, it had been awkward trying to maintain a conversation while we were on the stage with several sets of prying eyes on us. It felt invasive and I disliked the way they gawked at us as if we were aliens from another planet. Truthfully, I hate attention in general. I can bear a normal amount but, if people try to butt into my business, it feels confining. I could tell Slender had felt the same. So, we both decided to excuse ourselves from the party and left the room.

On the way out, I had mouthed, 'best wingman ever,' to Trender and he had merely nodded his head, whispering, "I know. You better find me a boyfriend because you owe me one."

~~~~~

I bit into the last of my cookie, holding my hand up in case some crumbs came falling out. Slender and I were in his office, talking to each other and catching up on the years that we missed.

Earlier, it had been awkward trying to maintain a conversation while we were on the stage with several sets of prying eyes on us. It felt invasive and I disliked the way they gawked at us as if we were aliens from another planet. Truthfully, I hate attention in general. I can bear a normal amount but, if people try to butt into my business, it feels confining. I could tell Slender had felt the same. So, we both decided to excuse ourselves from the party and left the room.

On the way out, I had mouthed, 'best wingman ever,' to Trender and he had merely nodded his head, whispering, "I know. You better find me a boyfriend because you owe me one."

I gave him that look with a coy smile and nodded my head, winking as I did so. Trender had then walked over to Offender and before I left, he had given me an encouraging thumbs-up. I had reciprocated with a toothy grin before following Slender, grabbing the box of cookies that had fallen onto the ground. As I had followed Slender, I had noticed how his gait had changed. He walked with a sense of assertiveness and his wide steps were more deliberate, more purposeful. It contrasted to his awkward, but adorable, manner of hobbling from years ago.

It was then that I realized that that wasn't the only difference in Slender. He had changed dramatically from the awkward teenager he used to be years ago. For one, he was way taller, something that I had thought wasn't possible anymore after he had hit six feet and eight inches at the age of fifteen. An air of class had surrounded him as he stood with more rigidness. Gone was his signature slouch as his spine had become straightened, more upright. His shoulders had grown broader over the years and I couldn't help but ogle at his muscular arms that were at his sides, his suit hugging his tight biceps.

Maybe it was because of this astute observation that my brain wandered into dark areas.

'I wonder what else he can do with those strong arms.'

'...Ew. You're disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. You're filthy filth. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the dirtiest of them all? You. That's who. Don't think about that, [Y/N], you stupid... Oh my god, you're thinking about that.'

'Think about other things. Like what he does to work out. Get inspiration from him and motivate yourself, you lazy hermit, instead of being thirsty.'

'But what other things can he do with those big gu—'

My face flushed with heat as my mind traveled to certain places that I didn't want to explore but was forced to anyway.

Although my thoughts were occupied with certain... things, there was one thought that crossed my mind. And, to be honest, it made me nervous a little.

Slender wasn't a teenage boy anymore. He was an adult now. A grown man. No matter how much I tried to deny it, he had changed. He was a mafia boss now, for crying out loud. I had wondered what else had transformed about him. Questions had filled my head and a pang of doubt replaced the happiness of finally seeing him earlier ago. Was he still the kind person that I had known years ago? Was he still the individual that tended to injured animals?

Was he still the same person that I had fell in love with?

Or was all of that gone?

It was obvious; he had changed. I could hear it in his voice, see it in his appearance, feel it in my bones.

He had changed and it bothered me that I was unsure about the person he had become.

~~~~~

Slender had shown me to his office, a wide, spacious area that was situated on a lower floor for some reason. The room was lit by two hanging lamps that were attached to the black walls, opposite to each other. The lamps' golden handles were curved upward at the section where they connected with the walls so that they resembled some sort of curvy 'L' shape. The place was lined with shelves of books bound in thick leather. I had smiled faintly as I saw a thin non-fiction, picture book about animals stuffed into a tight cranny as if someone hastily tried to hide it. Mainly, though, the books seemed to consist of classics and literary works that contained insight into business, law, and other topics. One particular publication that caught my attention was titled: The Art of Manipulation, How to Get What You Want.

In the middle of the room was a mahogany desk, centered on a crimson, rectangular carpet. In front of the desk were two white chairs that were probably reserved for guests. Slender had taken one, turned it around so that the chair's back was facing the mahogany table, and sat on it, propping his elbows on top of the seat. I had decided to sit across from him in a huge, leather chair and felt like Vito Corleone from The Godfather as I swiveled around in it.

We were alone now, the box of cookies opened and the both of us eating from it. His face had ripped open and formed some sort of mouth. I watched as he ate, his sharp, jagged teeth tearing into the cookies. I had forgotten how he consumed food and I stared with curious intent as he bit into the pastry, his snake-like tongue sometimes peeking through his teeth. I was suddenly overcome with the strong urge to reach up to his face and poke his tooth with my finger.

"So, I guess people really do change after high school, huh?" I asked, swallowing the last of my cookie.

"I would guess so," he replied, his deep voice catching me off-guard.

Compared to the dimly-lit room from the party, Slender's office was much brighter. It was due to this factor that I discovered a transformation on his face that I don't remember him having seven years ago. There was a faded gash that covered a good section of the right side of his head. "What happened right here, by the way?" I asked, my finger travelling along an area that ran across my right eyebrow all the way to my right cheekbone, copying the placement of Slender's scar.

"What, this?" He pointed to the linear slash that ranged from his brow ridge to his upper cheekbone.

I nodded my head.

"Oh, I acquired it from a little, um, dispute." A slight twinge of nervousness laced his chuckle as I raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine."

"So. You got into a fight?"

"Y-Yes?"

"And you got hurt?"

"S-sort of?"

"Slender! Why did you get into that fight? Now look at you! Your perfect skin is ruined!" Without thinking, I reached up to his face, grabbed his chin, and pulled him down to my level. I inspected the faded injury, my brows furrowed in concern. I gently ran a thumb along its outline, feeling how deep it was. "Jeez, mister. This is pretty bad. If you had eyes, you would be blind right here." Absent-mindedly, I continued stroking it, frowning as I remember our childhood years and how everything was so much different, so much safer back then.

"What happened?" I whispered softly. "How did they do this to you?"

With a slow exhale, he said, "It started off as an argument that Offender and I had against a gang that we were working for during that time. It was a few months after I dropped out of college to help Offender with the money because we were in a tight situation. Anyway, we were irritated and decided to confront them because they hadn't been paying commission fairly. We let the first few times slip because they only paid us a few dollars short and we had assumed that they had merely forgotten a dollar or two or made a mistake in counting. However, they continued to pay us the wrong amount and it had reached a point where they weren't giving us a third of the money that we deserved. And I mean it when I say that we deserved it. What Offender and I were doing for them, Birdy, was dangerous and deadly. There were... disturbing details that I don't wish to disclose with you. If a faint-hearted person was coerced into doing what we did for the gang, I guarantee you that they would go insane. Well, we were fed up with our bosses and at first, we tried to sort things out with words. I had tried to persuade them that they needed to pay their debt to us but, they grew angry. Eventually, one thing led to another, words escalated into fists, and before I knew it, I was caught up in a bloody fight. Someone, I don't remember who, pulled out a broken blade that you would find on an ice skate and sliced my face with it."

With every detail that Slender told me, my eyes started to prick with tears. It lined along the brim of my eyelids as I felt regret for not being there with him through tough times. While I was away in California, studying and living my best life, he had dropped out of college and was forced to integrate into a world that was toxic and bloody.

"Oh, Slender. Why did you involve yourself with the wrong crowd?"

"Well, it's because I- wait... Are you crying?"

"No, you dum-dum!" I retreated my hand from his chin and tried to secretly wipe my tears away. "It's because it's cold in here," I murmured.

He snorted. "Yeah, right. I, too, cry because of frigid temperatures."

A small chuckle escapes my lips. "It's true, though."

Standing up to his full height, Slender exclaimed, "I know what will make you feel better!" in a voice that reminded me of old times.

"What?" I asked, adding, "You've gotten taller, by the way. As in, really tall. Your voice got deeper, too."

"Nevertheless, I can still do this." Slender then walked over to me and positioned himself so that he was behind the huge chair that I was in, pulled my hand away from my face, and pinned my arms to the chair's handles. "Ready?" He asked.

"For what?"

Without warning, Slender rammed the chair (that I didn't realize had wheels) and I nearly fell to the floor.

"What the- AHHH!"

I squealed as he suddenly pushed me and the chair out of his office, nearly knocking some books over as we shot across the room and flung the doors wide open. Pressing his hands against the chair's back and acting as the driver of the strange vehicle, he bulldozed the leather seat with such force that I felt like I was flying, my surroundings merging into a blur. He propelled me throughout the hallways, horrifyingly up a flight of stairs, and recklessly through an empty room that contained nothing but a grand piano. He had almost hit two, unfortunate people who possessed the bad luck to be standing in the middle of the way when a terrified but ecstatic lady in a chair that was being pushed by a lunatic came barreling through.

Slender laughed at their scared, little expressions as they hurled themselves aside in order to not get ran over.

"Hey! That wasn't nice!" I tried to scold him in a firm voice but failed; instead, I exploded into giddy laughter as he pushed me even faster. A short, brisk wind blew through my ears and flapped through my hair, messing up the hard work of the sweet hairdresser that had styled it earlier. I knew that Trender was going to get mad once I rejoined him later but, for now, I didn't care.

"Wheeee!" I yelled, a wild grin on my face. I haven't felt this care-free in ages. A wave of pleasant nostalgia hit me as I remembered how exciting things like this happened all the time back when were little. Now, we were adults that life had lead into two distinct directions; both pulled back into each other's lives again but as two different people.

"Hey! Do you recall that instance in eighth grade when we got those fake, matching Power Ranger tattoos that would peel off the moment you took a shower?!" Slender asked me through all the ruckus. I was impressed at how he was able to say a full on sentence without having to catch his breath considering all the energy he was exerting.

"Oh, yeah! I remember! You wanted to copy Offender because he got a real one and you tried to convince me to get one with you! I remember I didn't want to because my parents would've gotten mad!"

"And then we just decided to get fake ones! I remember how you were still scared of your parents finding out even though they were easily removable!"

I laughed. "My parents were scary when mad!"

"Remember when they found out we were dating during our junior year?!"

"It wasn't even fair! They were more mad at me than at you even though I was their own daughter! It's like they favored you over me!"

"What can I say?! I was more responsible than you! I even did your chores when I came to visit!"

"Yeah, right! You only came over to play on my PS3 and you weren't even good at it!"

Slender laughed. "Take that back!"

"No!" I retorted, chuckling.

Eventually, Slender had to pause to catch his breath. We stopped in a dark room, illuminated by only the moon's soft light, on the upper floor. The room's walls were decorated with windows that reached from the floor all the way to the ceiling. They revealed the vast, surrounding property that Slender owned. It overlooked the trees scattered around the area and, in the distance, across a bridge, the Statue of Liberty could be seen. Because of the night, I was only able to see so much but, nevertheless, the scene was still breathtaking.

I climbed out of the seat and walked over to the windows to get a better view. As I gently pressed my face against the glass in astonishment, I peered down and identified several designer cars and vehicles that I thought I could only see in my dreams. They were parked near an empty space surrounding a huge gargoyle water fountain that was located in the center of a cement circle. At the very front of the mansion was the Rolls Royce that I rode in with Trender. It was sandwiched in between a black Bentley and a black Mercedes-Benz. I quietly whistled as I mentally calculated the sum total of the price of all the three cars if a person had bought them all together at once. All I know is that even my life savings couldn't compare to it.

After a few minutes had passed, I walked over to Slender who was now sitting against the wall, his breathing labored from all the exhaustion. He patted the shiny floor next to him, gesturing for me to sit there. I obliged and sat down. "Tired yourself out, huh?" I grinned.

He lightly chuckled and nodded his head.

We remained there, silent, just staring at each other in curiosity, observing how the years had transformed us. A couple of rooms away, the faint melody of a jazz song was playing through the speakers.

It felt as if there was a barrier in between Slender and I as dozens of questions that I was too afraid to ask him filled my head. My behavior startled me, to be honest. I was never like this with Slender before. I had always been comfortable around him but, now, it was as if we were worlds apart. Maybe it was the change in his aura but, I suddenly felt the need to become closed off and keep to myself. Even though I was able to catch a glimpse of the Slender from years ago in the way he gave me an unconventional tour of his mansion, there was something that was amiss, something that used to be there but not anymore. It was something that I couldn't quite land my finger on.

In that serious, new voice of his, Slender stated, "You know, [Y/N], I had thought that graduation was going to be the last time that I ever saw you again." The pale moonlight shone on his face, creating a faint sketch of his skull. It made his scar stand out, making it more exposed against the glow.

The mood shifted and I gave him a small smile, the remembrance of loneliness without him flooding through. "Well, we're here now, right? And that's all that matters anyway."

"How have you been doing, [Y/N]?"

"Well, my new kids are great."

"Oh... who's the lucky guy?" He asked, crest-fallen.

I widened my eyes as I realized how I phrased my answer . "Oh no, you've got it wrong. I'm not married, I'm a teacher," I chuckled. "Two completely different things."

"You know, that thing that happened between us, I liked it. It was fragile, and silly, and felt good. Deep down, I knew that I would never be able to recreate that feeling with someone else. You were a one in a million." He scooted closer to me, closing off the space between us.

I smiled softly, my gaze dropping to the ground beside me. Maybe, my Slender was still there. Maybe he was still—

It was then that I realized something. That one thing that felt amiss about Slender. The thing that I couldn't land my finger on.

It all came back so vividly.

The bank.

The gunshots.

Meredith's scream.

The cold, hard barrel against my head.

Why were they all so scared of him?

What did he do?

It all came back.

I turned towards Slender, a wild, desperate look in my eyes. The room became heavy with hot air and the man in front of me was suddenly a stranger, a dangerous one.

A question that I needed to have answered was bursting to be said. His answer was imperative. It was the only deciding factor that solved the question if he was still the same Slender that I knew once and for all. If he really had changed and that the Slender that I fell in love with was as good as dead.

They said that The Operator ruled the world.

They said that The Operator was deadly.

They said that The Operator was a killer.

"If you get on his bad side, he'll.... Let's just say that gruesome things will happen to you."

It were all just statements but, I needed to know if they were true. And I needed to know from The Operator himself.

"Slender. I have a question and you better be honest about it."

"Yes?"

"People have told me that you kill people. Have you?"

Chapter Text

"Well?"

The tense silence was so thick that it could almost cut through the air. None of them stirred as the young woman looked at her past lover with fear, anxiousness, hurt, and an emotion that pained the mafia boss. It was one of betrayal, one of stinging accusation.

His hand had been inches away from her cheek, so close to finally relishing the feeling of her skin against his palm after all these years, to finally pull her into him and kiss her lips that he haven't tasted in so long. But, when she had asked the question, when she gave him that look of betrayal, he had immediately retracted it, her sorrowful expression capable of hurting him more than any kind of physical torment. He had marveled at how badly she could sting him without even uttering a single word.

"Well, Slender?" She repeated, not daring to raise her voice above a whisper in fear that he would say that three letter word that she didn't want to hear. Tears brimmed her eyes as the silence prolonged, the man not saying anything. She was terrified of this person in front of her, scared of what he was capable of. Petrified that he would nod his head in resignation and cause her world to crumble from beneath her. But, most importantly, she was scared because she didn't understand. She couldn't comprehend how someone so loving could be so cruel.

She was scared because she didn't know him anymore. Swallowing this truth was like swallowing a bundle of stones.

The young woman was waiting for him to deny her question, to convince her that he wasn't capable of such cruelty but he never did. Still, she couldn't stop that ounce of faith in him from prevailing. She couldn't stop from lying to herself, arguing with the rational part of her that he was still as kind, as sweet, as free from depravity as before.

She knew how the mob world worked. She knew that it was a bloody, deadly reality where people killed people to gain more power; where men and women gambled with their lives just to gain another dollar in their pocket. She knew that it was an environment that involved corruption, greed, all the evil things that plagued humanity.

Still.

She was willing to believe that he was an exception who had never been touched by evil's finger. She was willing to be lied to just to hear him say 'no'. She was willing to beg just for a shred of reassurance. She merely wanted to believe he was still there.

The person that she knew.

The person that she missed.

The person that she loved.

He tried to reason with her. "Listen, Birdy, you know that I will never, ever hurt you-"

"I know that, Slender. But... it doesn't change the fact that you've hurt other people and I don't know if my conscience could handle that. I don't think I could live with myself knowing that—knowing that—"

Her voice diminished as she shut her eyes and sunk herself further into the ground. "Knowing that I'm associated with a killer. How would I be able to live with myself? I'm scared, Slender. I don't know who you are anymore. I don't know who you've become."

His breath caught in his throat, trapped, when she finally opened her eyes and threw him a despairing, desperate glance.

"So, please... tell me. Have you ever killed anybody?"

A sudden transformation came over Slender and it became apparent why he made for such an affluent and successful crime lord. All of the emotions in his face (or lack thereof) vanished as if they didn't exist in the first place. He straightened, correcting his posture. He became more serious, not in an angry manner, but in a way to show no signs of what his intents were. He became a slate of paper, blank and unreadable.

In the tense quiet, he only stated one word.

One lie.

"No."

~~~~~

"She's changed."

After Slender had lied to her, Birdy had softly smiled at him, whispering, "I knew it. Thank god." She had then thrown her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into the crook of his neck, her chest heaving as she whimpered slightly. She was like that for a while, clinging on to him as if he was going to disappear into thin air if she didn't.

"It's still you. Thank god, it's still you."

The mafia boss didn't know if she had really believed him because before she hugged him, a fleeting expression of doubt flickered across her face. Nonetheless, she had still wrapped her arms around him in the way she used to back in high school when they would have to leave each other for the day. He couldn't count how many times he breathed in the scent of her and held her tightly in his arms.

Offender took a drag of his cigarette while eyeing a curvy woman in a skin tight dress that had passed by. His right arm was swung over the other side of the couch that him and Slender were sitting on. His left hand's fingers curled around his smoking stick. "Of course she's changed, brother. It's been seven years. What? Did you expect that after all that time she would still be the same girl you fell in love with? Look at you, you're a king now. Before, you were a weasel. Like you, she's grown up, too. She's not a little girl anymore. She's a woman. A matured, older, dazzling beauty."

A table was across from them, multiple empty glasses spread on it. Some of it was Slender's who was trying to drink away his guilt from lying to Birdy. However, alcohol made no effect on him and it was only during these times where he hated that fact about himself. "Yes, but, she's really changed. Sure, her smile is brighter, much happier, but at the same time, her walls have gotten taller. It's as if she's scared to tell me things. I don't understand it. Why is she hiding things from me? It was never like this before."

"Slender. It's been several years."

"I know, I know. But, to think I was going to ask to marry her before all of this started."

Offender choked on his cigarette smoke. "You were going to ask her to marry you?!"

Slender took another swig of his drink. "Of course. She makes me happy. It would be a sin if I didn't."

Offender stared at him, incredulous. "Seriously?! You can't just take something so important and do it all on a whim! Do you even know what marriage is? Marriage isn't just a symbol for unity! It's a contract! A contract that enslaves you to another person for the rest of your life! If you take that path with the wrong person at the wrong time, it'll be a hell you can never get out of!"

"You just say that because you're scared of commitment."

Offender was offended.

He scoffed, "No, I'm just protecting you. Besides, you are going way too fast. Think of [Y/N] as a stranger. Even though you've known her for years, she's a different person. You've got to treat her like one. Remember: if you go too fast, it won't last."

"I know, I know," Slender sighed.

Offender gave out a hearty laugh. He took a long drag of his cigarette before puffing it out and asking, "What does she do for a living?"

"She a teacher."

"Hmm..." Offender grew quiet, thinking to himself.

"What's on your mind, brother?"

"I think I've realized something, Slender. I think," he played with his cigarette, aimlessly twirling it around. "I know the reason for your communication problems with Birdy. Just take a look around this room and what do you see?"

Slender scanned his surroundings, noticing many people from his mafia, connections that he had generously invited to his party, sex workers from his brother's illegal escort service, drug lords, made men, and many more high class criminals. He observed how they treated one another, desensitized to the whole scene. Men and women alike were giving him long side-glances but turned their heads away as soon as they made eye-contact with the fearsome Operator. Strippers were sitting on gangsters' laps, giggling at words they murmured into their ears.

He took note of brooding men hunched over their cups of wine and beer, talking with themselves. Many people passed by The Operator and The Hitman, paying respect to their bosses by briefly bowing their heads at them. To his left, The Operator's own lieutenants were walking towards him and they reminded Slender of a pack of wolves as they stepped silently through the crowd.

He had gotten used to this world and environment having been involved with the mafia for a good amount of his life but, for the first time in a long while, he saw how scary it seemed through a newcomer's eyes. He realized why his birdy had refused to tell him what had happened to her and why she doubted his lie.

He also saw why she was so relieved when he told her 'no'. Years ago, he would've never imagined himself to be sitting in this seat, all the power in the world settled in his fingertips. Years ago, he would've been running through the fields of grass close to his father's home with Birdy in tow.

Years ago, the world was a different place and he, a different person.

~~~~~

It was 2010 and it was Thanksgiving break. Slender had finally acknowledged that he had a massive crush on his best friend. They were sitting on a tree branch, an Ipod between them and ear buds plugged into their ears. Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away, had just come out and they were both listening to it on repeat, having been the only song that was on [Y/N]'s playlist.

They were silent, listening to the lyrics.

Summer after high school when we first met

We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

"Hey, Slender, nine years from now, where do you think we'll be?"

"I think you'll be a teacher like you've always wanted to. And for me, I don't know yet."

And on my 18th birthday

We got matching tattoos

"I think you would be a vet."

The boy glanced at his best friend, mesmerized by the way the sun peeked through her hair, making her appear as if she was an angel with a radiant glow. "Why?" he had asked. He had spotted a bird hop from one branch to the other.

She smiled at him and he felt his heart thud against his chest. "Because you're nice, good with animals, really kind, and you also have a big heart."

Talk about our future

Like we had a clue

"But, most importantly, you're a good person." She had said this with the utmost certainty, with the utmost belief in this statement. She had said it with a firmness in her voice as if it was the truth.

Never thought that one day

I'd be losing you

~~~~~

You're a good person.

Could she still say that about him after all the things that he had done? Could she still say that when he was in a room filled with bad people? Could she still say that when he had taken so many lives, when he had taken away so many people? When he had robbed children of their fathers, robbed them of their mothers, robbed them of their happiness? Could she still say that when he was the mastermind behind a lot of murders, when he was the root cause of most crimes?

And that was why she had doubted him, even just for a moment. That was why even though she knew about the real truth deep inside, she had casted out all her uncertainty away, letting herself believe him just to hold on to that person she once knew.

As he gazed at the people around him, he knew why she seemed so scared of him.

"What do I see? I see a room full of regret."

Chapter Text

A cut flower wilts in the span of five days if not tended to carefully. For it to survive longer, a call for diligence and proper maintenance is necessary. This was how Slender viewed his relationship with [Y/N]: as a flower that needed to blossom under the right conditions. And now, that flower was drooping, on the edge of its last breath and if he did not do something quick, its petals would fall and it would die. He found himself stumped in this predicament he had landed himself in. So, Slender resorted himself to the action that he did best: thinking. 

        He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, trying to figure out ways to solve his problem with Birdy. He knew that what he had done was not the right path that he had ventured on and that he possibly just might have made the situation worse. Along the way, he knew he would come across an obstacle that even he would not be able to get around. 

        His decision was made too quick, too rash for his own taste. If this had been some sort of deal or proposition, he would have thought things through with more vigilance. However, this was Birdy and he was always too flustered to think around her. God help him if she ever decided to become his wife. He did not know if he would be able to restrain himself.

        The faceless being had switched to polite nodding as his brother bothered him with a torrent of questions. Slender paid no heed to any of them as he was too preoccupied to care.

        "Is [Y/N] still here?" Offender asked, knowing his brother wasn't listening. 

        Slender nodded. 

        "What's she wearing?"

        Another mindless nod. 

        It was the final question that proved successful in attaining Slender's attention. "Did you fuck up?" 

        Offender smirked as he watched Slender slightly straighten, acting as if he got caught red-handed in a lie. Slender crossed his arms and grumbled. "Yes." 

        Offender laughed before leaning forward, getting closer to Slender as his interest piqued. This is going to be entertaining, he thought.  "What happened? What did you say? What did she say?" 

        Slender shot him a glare before sighing, simply wanting his brother to back off and mind his own business. "She asked me if I ever killed anybody and what was I supposed to say?" Offender's head dipped, amused at how Slender grew more and more animated in his rant.  "Was I supposed to tell her, 'Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I'm quite infamous for that,' and send her running? You know Birdy, she hates stuff like that."

        "Yup."

        Slender massaged his brow ridge with his thumb and index finger, clearly frustrated with himself. "So I lied to her and probably dug myself a grave to die in if she ever finds out," he bemoaned. "I hate lying to her."

        "Yup."

        Slender glanced down at his brother through the gaps between his fingers. He glared at his brother's leering smile, irked. "Stop. I know you're making fun of me."

        "Yup. This is hilarious."

        "I'm going to talk to Trender. I should have known that trying to talk to you about this would amount to nothing." Before Slender could stand up, however, his captains, Masky and Toby, arrived at the table, carrying news. They had wanted to tell their boss what had happened earlier but when they tried to meet him at his office, they almost got ran over when he came barrelling past, pushing the woman on the 'no-harm' list around in his chair. Besides, they knew that he would've probably gotten angry at them if they interrupted his alone time with the famous [Y/N] [L/N]. Their boss fuming at them was a sight they would rather not see.

        They bowed their heads in respect before Masky handed The Operator a tiny, folded piece of paper. The Operator took the note from him and unfolded the intricate creases with an air of curiosity. In it was a single sentence written with tiny, hastily scrawled words that were lettered with dried-up, crimson blood. The Operator read it once before looking up at his two Caporegimes. 

        "Who gave this to you?" said the crime lord, his baritone voice deadly serious.

        "Rouge, sir. One of her soldiers found it."

        He hummed to himself before crumpling the piece of paper in his large, skeletal-like hands and dropping the now balled up note into his suit pocket.

        "Is there a problem, boss?"

        "We'll just have to wait and see. For now, figure out who sent this and tell your crews to keep an eye out for any foreigners to the family. Contact BEN and tell him to erase any, even the slightest, traces that we may have made through the illegal gambling site."

        The duo nodded their heads before turning around to start their assignments. The Operator watched them leave before interlocking his hands to place them under his chin, resting his head above his curled knuckles. He remained silent for a while, his brooding nature returning as he looked on pensively. He was thinking about how to handle this situation but, at the same time, he wondered how he would be able to leave everything behind. He couldn’t simply round up all his crew, look them in the eyes, and tell them that he was going to step down from the title as: The Boss. It would have been ideal if they were millionaires, but that wasn’t the case. 

        No matter how much he tried to deny it, the fact was that most of his mob were like the person he used to be: an innocent soul who was just trying to get by. These people weren’t evil men who were looking to dominate the world. They were civilians who were desperate to make money just for the sake of putting food on the table. All their livelihoods depended on him. Besides, if he was taken down, it would no doubt mean an era of chaos in the Underworld constituted by gang wars and other mafias trying to take their fill of territory. 

        The Operator was the one who was practically in charge of everything, the mastermind on a grand scale. 

        It was this thought that both exhilarated and haunted him at the same time.

        And, all of those years, all of the hardships that he had to face to earn his rightful title, to assume all of his power, well… it would all be for nothing. 

        Could he really step down? Was it possible for him to go legit?

        Suffice to say, the mighty Operator was conflicted. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. The only thing he could do was to protect the person he loved. 

        "You're right, Offender. Perhaps I was thinking too fast about Birdy. It’s obvious she is not meant for this world." With a gruff grunt, The Operator stood from his seat, fixing his loose scarlet tie, and prepared to walk away.

        "Wait. What was in the note?" asked The Hitman, concerned about the abrupt change in his brother's behavior. 

        "Read it for yourself." The Operator reached into his pocket and, once he found it, threw the note onto the table in front of Offender. Without a single glance to check if his brother had read the words, he stalked away, mafiosos and associates alike parting to make way for their king.

        As The Hitman scanned the words, his teasing attitude vanished, replaced with a dark glare. He didn't like the message the note held; he didn't like the air of mockery that was hidden by the messy cursive letters. He especially didn't like the crude drawing of their family's symbol on the upper right hand corner of the parchment, an act of disrespect towards the family name.

"Glad to see the limestone you've built your empire on is slowly softening, Mr. Operator. - U."

        With heavy footsteps that echoed through the hollow corridors, the crime lord headed towards the entrance hall where his Consigliere, Trenderman, was. The boss had decided that he needed to talk to his cousin about the note, wanting to know his thoughts on the situation. Although The Operator thought it best to hunt down who had written the note first and act later, he still wanted to consult his advisor.

        He swore that if he ever found the person who had written the note, he would crush their skull with his bare hands and serve their head on a silver platter. No one could threaten the mafia thinking that they could get away without injury, impunity riding on their back. 

        A low, dark chuckle laced with bloodlust erupted from the boss’s being as he imagined the pleasurable feeling of his hands squeezed around the fool’s neck, wringing it like an inhumane butcher would with a chicken’s.

        He couldn’t stop from succumbing to his true nature as he took delight from the violent scene that unraveled in his head.

        An aura of frightening fury enveloped The Operator as he made his way over to the entrance hall, resembling a lion stepping with superiority through the savannah. 

        Finally, the boss spotted a familiar figure dressed in a brown coat and black pants leaning against the wall, his back turned to The Operator. His arms were crossed loosely against his torso as it appeared that he was talking to someone that The Operator could not see, the Consigliere’s height deeming the action impossible. Although the boss was taller than his advisor, the person that Trender was talking to was completely blocked from view because of their short height.

        “I’m just saying that I’m not the right person to be asking because that’s not mine. You might want to ask Splendor, though. I’m pretty sure he’ll get it for your fun-sized figure.” Trender then chuckled at something The Operator could not hear. “That’s what you get for telling me that I’m one color away from looking like Arthur Read in my regular outfit.”

        The Operator reached out to clasp Trender’s shoulder. “We need to talk. There’s been a threat,” he informed in hushed, firm whispers.

        With a surprised jump, Trender turned to face him. Trender glanced around before lowering his voice, breathing out, “What? Who’s stupid enough to do that?”

        The mafia lord sneered. “That’s what I want to know.” 

        "Hi, Slender!" 

        The Operator standing at more than 8 feet glanced down to see Birdy who barely reached his stomach. Her face was lit up in a broad, infectious smile as she looked like a little kid who just received what they wanted for their birthday. The Operator felt his anger melt in an instant as she looked so cute with her contagious excitement. His heart fluttered in his chest, her joy his only weakness. Although [Y/N]’s smile was just a regular one, it made him feel things that no other smiles could.

        “Look at that!” he followed the direction that [Y/N]’s finger pointed at, glancing up to see a plush bat hanging on the wall, held in place by a piece of yellow yarn looped around a tag on its back. The yarn was slightly sliding off of a nail that was hammered into the building. He recalled that Splendor had placed the decoration there last Halloween to make the place look more ‘festive’ and seemed to have forgotten to take it down. The Operator hummed as he wondered how he had never noticed it before. 

        “Can you ask Splendor if I can borrow it? I know the class will love it as their mascot! I already know what to name him! Mr. Oggy the Bat!” Birdy giddily exclaimed, the excitement radiating off of her.

        With a smile like that, how could Slender refuse?  He chuckled and stretched a tendril to the piece of decor to hand it to her. “I’m sure Splendor will let you use it. He didn’t even notice it was there, after all.”

        “I don’t see how something so simple like that amuses you so much while there are literal celebrities who are here,” Trender teased. 

        Birdy stuck her tongue out at him, feeling childish. “At least I don’t dress like Arthur.” 

        Slender shook his head, amused at their bickering. It reminded him of the good old days. 

        As a woman in a black dress that Slender recognized as one of Offender’s capos walked past, nodding her head at him, he was reminded of the reason he had went to Trender in the first place. He stared longingly at Birdy, lamenting how they were both in separate worlds. He wished he could drop all of his responsibilities and run away with her but that was too unrealistic. There were consequences that came with power and limited freedom was one of them.

        Nevertheless, he had to keep her safe.

        “[Y/N], you need to leave,” Slender suddenly stated, disrupting their playful banter.

        The woman looked at him, her face knitted in confusion. "What? I just barely got here-"

        “I agree with Slender, sweetie. You need to go,” Trender coincided, standing now instead of leaning against the wall. His tone was more grim, more exhausted and it was as if he aged a couple years in mere minutes. With his right hand, he removed his glasses and rubbed the spot where his eyes should have been.

        Birdy’s eyes flitted between the two, sensing that something was not right. Alarms sounded in her head as she noted their uneasy body language. There was something serious going on that she didn’t know about. “Hey, what’s up? What’s happening? You guys seem so tense.”

        The Operator and his Consigliere briefly looked at each other, a silent decision made among them.

        “It’s nothing that you have to worry about, sweet-heart. Just a few miscommunications is all,” Trender tried to explain, not sounding confident at the slightest as he tripped over some words. “Do you want me to take her back? I was the one who got her into this.”

        Slender shook his head. “No. I’ll bring her home.”

        “Are you sure? What about the guests? And what about our agreement on staying low-profile?”

        “Yes, I’m sure. You and Offender will take care of the guests in my absence. I just need to get changed into something more casual that won’t attract attention. Plus, I’ll take the motorcycle instead of the Benz as we head towards the mainland. Besides, everyone is scared of me. I highly doubt anything will happen.”

        “Oh, yeah? Then what about the n-” Trender caught himself before he could say anything else.

“What about the what?” [Y/N] asked, hugging the bat to her chest. 

        “Nothing,” Trender responded, nervously chuckling. 

        “One, two, three, eyes on me!” [Y/N] said firmly in her ‘teacher’ voice. She had developed and mastered it throughout her postgraduate years when she volunteered at daycares in substitution of writing papers. She had often used the phrase to get the kids’ attention but it slipped out of her mouth at that moment and she didn’t realize that she used it on the mafia boss and his advisor.

        Maybe the routine had been ingrained into their heads when they were in elementary school that it was basically reflex because the phrase worked; both The Operator and The Consigliere whipping their heads at her before saying, “One, two, eyes on you!”

Chapter Text

"I want both of you boys to tell me what is going on,” demanded [Y/N], the bat plushie in her arms smirking evilly at the duo with its knitted smile.

           It was at that moment, Slender knew he fucked up.

            He knew that there was nowhere left to go and all of his excuses had run dry like the droughts caused by global warming. There was nothing left to say except for what he wished he didn’t have to.

        And that was: the truth.

        Slender nervously fidgeted with his sleeves, tugging on the cuffs to smooth out its few crinkles. He straightened his already perfect tie, hoisted and shimmied a little in his secured pants, bent down to tie his shoes that had no laces, and prayed to all the gods that he didn’t believe in. And then, he stood up again, taking in a shaky breath.

        “What the hell was all of that?” bluntly asked Trender.

        “I don’t question your kinks so don’t question mine,” grumbled Slender.

        “That’s what she said,” Birdy whispered. 

        “What?”

        “What?”

        “Chicken butt?”

        "Who's a cunt?"

        "Your mom's a—what?!"

        The trio stared at each other for a while, bewilderment disrupting their conversation. To maintain his dignity, Slender awkwardly coughed into his fist. 

        But, the silence marched strongly onward and Slender, with great reluctance, deemed that it was the perfect time to tell Birdy everything. To tell her about the truth of what he did, about the note that held a threat, and every other little detail that she deserved to know. And so, Slender gathered all his courage once more but like a dog riddled with guilt, he found himself unable to look [Y/N] in the eyes as he admitted, “[Y/N], in all honesty, I haven’t been truthful to y-”

        The girl then abruptly screamed in fright, the bat plushie falling to the floor as she was suddenly pulled several feet off of the ground. A particular giant in a loose, orange Thrasher shirt tucked into his white pants lifted her to squeeze her against his chest. A matching polka dot orange and white beanie was wrapped loosely over his head, slipping slightly as he swung Birdy around carelessly like she was a rag doll. 

        Well then. Maybe the truth can be put on hold.

        “I haven’t seen you in so long!” the friendly giant squealed, his eyes wide with happiness and his mouth an upturn smile. He held Birdy in his outstretched arms, the image similar to that one scene in The Lion King where baby Simba was being held by Rafiki for all the animal kingdom to see.

        Birdy laughed as she discovered that the person who had lifted her was Splendorman, Slender’s younger brother who she used to help babysit and tutor. Like Slender, Splendor had grown massively since the time [Y/N] had last seen him many years prior. In fact, she would even go so far as to say that he was taller than Slender. 

        The young woman made a quick mental note to surround herself with shorter people more often. 

        She felt like a pinkie toe compared to their big dick energy.

        “Wow!” she exclaimed. “You’ve grown so much! Last time I saw you, you were barely up to my stomach and now it’s the other way around! Come here, let me see if your cheeks are still squishy.” She lightly chuckled as she reached out to pinch Splendor's cheeks, a routine that she used to do whenever she would come over to visit Slender at his house.

        Slender smiled at the sight before a harsh tug on his arm pried his attention away from the reunion. He looked down to see Trender’s face contorted in annoyance. 

        “Let’s talk somewhere else while she’s still busy,” the Consigliere uttered, his words low and secretive. He spared a glance at Splendor and Birdy, making sure that they were still distracted, before ushering Slender into a nearby room, away from party-goers within earshot.  

        Trenderman flipped on a light switch, the light flooding through the area revealing the space to be some sort of den, before finally shutting the door. He then looked at Slenderman, crossing his arms in frustration as he did so. 

        “Slender, you’re not thinking,” Trender stated rather harshly. “You either take one of your captains with you to play bodyguard or not go at all. It’s dangerous. Someone who hates you might see you and you can get shot.”

        “Trender, I’ll—”

        “No, Slender. Let me tell you, I’ve been to the area where [Y/N] lives. You want to know where it was? It was the bad part of the city, Slender. Nether Area. Heart of the Underworld and home to the monsters as they say.”

        Slender hummed. The Nether was quite infamous for its notoriety and the disorderly conduct of the gangs. The area was filled with hostility and hate and the men that were there, Slender had heard, were not honorable. They were crazy serial killers who had let the power get to their heads and would hurt anybody for anything. They lacked the structure that differentiated Syndicate (The Operator’s family) and them.

        Slender had heard from Zalgo that the only type of “leadership” that they had was a man that went by the name of Heir Borne, a drug lord that supplied Zalgo with assortments of illegal narcotics. The way he ruled over his men was unfit for someone like him. His crew fought dirty and their leader was a loose cannon. It was a prime example of the blind leading the blind.

        “Well, the Italians speak romance, we talk money, and politicians sprout bullshit." Zalgo let out a throaty chuckle, amused at his own joke. "Anyhow, he’s a wild one, Slender. He lets his dealers do whatever they want and walks around the place as if he was king of the jungle. He carries himself well, I’ll give him that, but it gets irritable sometimes.” Zalgo puffed some smoke from his pipe. The several gray wisps curled upward into the air and created a hazy frame that shrouded the man in mystery. The foggy particles soon dispersed inside the feeble and shady casino that only held the two mob bosses. Other than them, the place was deserted.

        Zalgo's horns glinted against the singular, flickering light. Its unstable pattern reminded The Operator of a dying man's last breaths, shaky and right at the cusp of fading into nothingness.

        Zalgo moved a card along the table, the eyeball on the back of his hand staring up at The Operator as he did so, never taking its gaze off of Syndicate's leader.

        Slender swirled his wine around, unfazed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched Zalgo place down another card. “How do you know you can trust him? He seems to be the type that would betray his brother merely to enjoy and reap its benefits."

        “That’s the thing, my friend.” Zalgo readjusted himself in his seat as he grinned at Slender, malice ever-present in his formidable nature. “He'll never do that to me. He knows how much he can lose if he tries anything. And, if he ever does, well, he can talk about the consequences to the piece of burnt human meat of the last person who betrayed me. Besides, the man’s looking for a market, and I’m looking for products. He knows the stakes of our agreement.” 

        "I had heard that many of his men, including himself, have been arrested on numerous occasions. Do you suppose his recklessness will cause your demise? Will having him on your side only prove to be a detriment?"

        "All those times he's been arrested, he was able to get a few connections. One of those connections was a corrupt fed by the name of Steve. The reason why Heir Borne doesn't go to jail anymore even though he’s practically living in illegal activity is because the agent covers for him in order to get the good stuff. Also, Slender, imprisonment is just an afterthought to me at this point."

        “Hmm… I see. A resemblance of a symbiotic relationship.” Slender inclined his wine glass forward so that the drink inside it traveled upward. He then placed a card of his own on the table and smiled to himself as he found a way to win the card game.

        “Correct as always, Operator,” Zalgo complimented, putting down an ace. 

         With a sly smirk, The Operator slid a king onto the deck, effectively winning the game. “Go fish,” he concluded with a sinister laugh.

        “Damn it, Slender, you always win this game. It’s not fair. Let’s play Uno now. I’ll beat you then and have you shitting rainbows.”

        “You know, you always end up enraged every time I beat you at a card game. You are quite the sore loser.”

        “It’s ‘cause it ain’t fucking Uno, man. I’ll beat your ass in Uno.”

        “Mind your expletives, Zalgo.”

        “Fucking, I don’t give a rat’s ass about expletives. Every time you’re with me, it’ll be rated E for fucking expletives. Eat my ass, Slender. Eat. My. Damn. Ass.”

        “I am flattered by the offer but, unfortunately, I have to decline. Because... do you even have one?”

        “She lives by Hammon's Hamburgers and you know the type of deals that go on down there and the type of men who make them," informed Trender ominously, his words seeming to imply danger. “You’ve told me before that you’re not untouchable, Slender. I’m scared that something might happen to you while you’re away. Especially since this environment is getting more and more dangerous.”

        Slender remained silent as he cleared his thoughts and mulled over the situation. He understood that his cousin only meant the best for him and that going to the area where Birdy lived in would understandably be worrisome. Slender knew that if he set foot in the territory, the action would no doubt garner unwanted attention and that he might just be giving an unknown assassin their lucky day. It was the perfect opportunity for his rivals to overthrow him.

        Yet, at the same time, he didn’t care. He knew that this was going to be the only occasion where he would be able to spend some alone time with [Y/N] before the mafia lifestyle completely overwhelmed him again. Even though she seemed to be more comfortable around him in his new persona as The Operator, he still wanted to prove to her that he was nothing to be scared of. He wanted to talk to her, get to know what had happened in her life, and, most importantly, admit to all of his wrongdoings.

        “I’ll take Hoodie with me for precautionary measures, then.”

        Trender sighed, seeing that there was no point in trying to dissuade his cousin when he put his mind to something. “You know I only fear for your safety, Slender.”

        “I know. I know.”

After the duo had come to an agreement, they had walked out of the room and rejoined the party. The night was still young and so was the party as people were now absolutely wasted. Two unfortunate bouncers were tasked with the job of trying to escort a man who was trying to pee in someone else's drink.

        Outside, the pair saw that Splendor and [Y/N] were still talking to each other. Splendor had set [Y/N] down at this point and they seemed to be too busy having a conversation to notice that Slender and Trender had returned.

        [Y/N] was the one who saw the pair approach first. "Hey! Where did you guys go?"

        "Sweetie, we're really sorry to say this but, you really need to go." Trender sighed. "I really didn't want to tell you that you have to leave but… we have a problem." 

        "Is the problem really that bad?"

        "Birdy, we received a threat," Slender interjected before Trender could say anything. He knew that Trender would just continue to push the truth away from Birdy thinking that he was protecting her but Slender had enough of lying.

        "What?! A threat?"

        Slender nodded, solemn. “Yes. We fear that someone is targeting Syndicate. Hopefully, this doesn’t spiral any further than it should.”

        “So, you’re saying that there’s a chance I might die?”

        Splendor looked at his older brother, his face stricken with disbelief. “So you’re saying I might not have to go to school anymore? Hell yeah!”

        “No, Splendor. You are still going to attend to your education. I didn’t drop out of college and build this vast empire just to see you not even finish high school. Do you think that just because your older brothers are mafia bosses and Trender is a CEO gives you the right to be lazy? Because that is simply not the case. In this world, you work hard so you can go far. The only reason why I even decided to show you how the Underworld works is because you promised me that you’ll do—”

        “Ok, ok. Chill, man. It was just a joke. You always take everything so seriously and it gets so damn tiring!”

        Before things could escalate, Trender stepped in. “Hey, let’s all take a breather. After that, I want you guys to apologize to each other. Slender, you apologize for being so serious again and Splendor, you apologize for talking back.”

        Splendor sighed but gave a sincere apology. “Sorry, big bro. It’s just that there are so many things that I have to do and I think the stress is getting to me.”

        Slender reached over and patted his teenage brother on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you can do it. I believe in you. And, I also apologize for being so stern with you. You know that I’m only like this because I want you to succeed. Now go run along. We have matters to discuss.”

        Splendor nodded and gave [Y/N] a small smile before running off to the stage where his DJ equipment was. Music was blaring from the speakers and the crowd was enjoying the pre-recorded set. Although the songs were doing a fine job at putting the crowd in a good mood, Splendor had a song that he wanted to play and thought the crowd would like. He put his headphones on and switched tracks.

         “I swear, I’m the only one who’s keeping this family together. You should be glad that you have me,” Trender said, pretending to flip his non-existent hair. “Anyway, sweetie, we decided that you’re going to go back home and Slender’s going to take you using his motorcycle. Hoodie is going to come, too, to provide protection. Right, Slender?”

        "Absolutely. I'll go get him right now." Slender excused himself to fetch his lieutenant, leaving Birdy and Trender alone by themselves in the process. 

        "Trender, what about this?" [Y/N] gestured at the dress that adorned her figure. "I guess I should give it back to you since you paid for it. I really appreciate that you let me borrow it, though. Thank you for that."

        "I am offended."

        "What? Why?"

        "Sweet-heart, I bought that for you. It's yours. Why would I wear that when it's clear that it won't fit me." He snorted. "If I put that on, it'll look like a bra on me."

        [Y/N]'s face flushed in embarrassment. "Oh. Well, still. I don't want to wear it on the motorcycle, it'll get ruined and it's too beautiful. Also, the skirt might get blown away and expose my 'you know what' in the wind."

        "Hmm… that's true. Tell you what, I'll lend you an outfit and you can give me the dress. I'll deliver the dress back to you via one of my connections."

        "Man. It's like high school all over again. You're the popular kid who knows everybody and vice versa."

        "Well, I don't blame them. I certainly am a person worth knowing." Trender chuckled. 

        "What was that phrase you used to say back in the day? Wasn’t it, ‘If people aren't with me, then they’re against me,’ or something like that?"

        "Oh, dear. Don't remind me of those dark ages. Early 2000's fashion was ugly and my personality was even uglier."

        Birdy laughed. "Remember when you got into a fight with the teacher?"

        Trender cringed in disgust. "Poor lady was just trying to do her job and I gave her hell for it. Ugh, I seriously didn't deserve her. Oh!” Trender suddenly exclaimed. “Before I forget, can you give me your number?" 

        "Oh, are you hitting on me?"

        Trender gagged. "You wish."

        [Y/N] chuckled and pulled out her phone. She pressed the contacts app and, at the top of the screen, was her phone number. "Here you go!" 

        Putting his hands on his knees, Trender teasingly squatted to get down to Birdy’s level, an action that earned an eye roll from the young woman. Then, pulling out his own phone, he typed her number into his contacts list. When he was finished, he texted her a simple hello.

        Birdy’s cellphone piped out a short little ‘ding’ when his message sent. She opened up her messaging app and an unknown contact popped up on her screen.

        "Ok, that's my number. Save it, treasure it, fangirl over it, I don't care. But, absolutely, under no circumstances, call or text me when it's 2 in the morning and we're supposed to be sleeping. Those are my cell phone rules."

        "I'll probably break them just for the sake of annoying you."

        "I won't answer." 

        “I’ll spam you with memes.”

        “Don’t send me crap ones.”

        “Well, of course! I’m not some uncultured swine.”

        “Yeah, well you smell like one.”

        Birdy slapped Trender on the arm, chuckling. “You’re so rude.”

        “Ok, so do you mind waiting here for me so I can get you an outfit?” 

        “Yeah, it’s not like I’ve been waiting for a whole hour.” 

        “I see my sarcasm has been rubbing off on you. Anyway, sorry in advance if what I get for you is too big. As you can tell, there aren’t any females in our household and I usually make clothes specifically tailored for tall people. All the outfits that I made for shorter figures are in stores but, we don’t have time to get them.”

        “That’s ok,” the woman responded. “As long as it’s comfortable.”

        Trender then left to find an outfit for Birdy. After a few moments, he came back holding a white piece of clothing. A mischievous smirk was plastered on his face and [Y/N] groaned inwardly, already knowing that whatever Trender had in mind was not going to be favorable for her. “Well, I found the perfect outfit for you. It’s Slender’s shirt.”

        “Seriously…?”

        “Yes.”

        “But, why would you—”

        “Shh. Just let it happen. Just let it go. Wear it. For me.”

        “Trender, it’s embarrassing—”

        “Hey. Didn’t you forget? You owe me. Now, to an empty room you go!”

        Birdy huffed. “Fine.” She grabbed the shirt from Trender and he led her to the same room that Slender and him had talked in earlier. She walked in, flipped on the light switch, locked the door, and placed Slender’s shirt on a nearby couch. She then proceeded to take off her cobalt apparel and shuffled out of the dress, her high heels on the floor next to her. Needless to say, she felt a little uncomfortable changing clothes in a house that wasn’t hers. It felt a little… scandalous to say the least. As if she was about to commit certain deeds behind closed doors.

        As the young woman lifted Slender’s shirt over her head to wear it, she grumbled and blushed furiously as she did so. “Frikking Trender. Why couldn’t he let me use his own shirt? This feels so embarrassing. What will Slender think? Ahh, I don’t want to think about it.” As the shirt went over her head, Birdy caught a huge whiff of a pleasant, outdoorsy smell. The aroma seemed to come from the piece of clothing. “To be fair, though, his shirt smells good.” 

        It was as if Slender’s shirt was just another dress as the length of it reached a little past her knees. The shirt was loose and no doubt too big for her body. [Y/N] tried to compensate as she rolled up the long sleeves to her elbows and folded the shirt’s collar. She found that wearing pants was unnecessary as the shirt already covered up a majority of her body, the only problem was if the wind blew and lifted it. In her arms, she held the blue dress. When she was done fixing herself up, she stepped into her heels once again and she walked out of the room only to immediately shut the door again, embarrassed, when she saw Slender in casual attire right in front of her.

        “[Y/N], why’d you go back inside?! You look so cute and so small in Slender’s shirt! Slender thinks so, too, because he’s blushing! Aww!” she heard Trender yell from the other side.

        Birdy wished she could hide in the room forever and never face Slender again. 

        With a sigh, she collected the last remaining fragments of her shattered dignity and stepped outside with false confidence. Her gaze was cast downward as the woman found herself too shy to truly look at Slender. “All I can say is, he made me wear it.”

        A giggle made Birdy look up. The sound came from Trenderman as he sneakily snapped a picture of Birdy with his phone. “I’m keeping this.” He then disappeared into the crowd of people before [Y/N] could make him delete it.

        [Y/N] breathed out a slow exhale to prevent herself from going crazy and smiled up at Slender. “Hey,” she greeted, her voice soft as she gripped her arm.

        “Hi,” Slender replied, a light blush tinting his cheeks. “You look beautiful.”

        The compliment made Birdy’s face burn up even more.

        A cough interrupted their discourse. “Boss, are we going to leave now?” The couple glanced to the side at an uncomfortable lieutenant who was wearing a yellow hoodie and a blask mask that covered his face. 

        [Y/N] recognized the person to be the same guard that had initially prevented her from stepping into the party. “You’re Hoodie?”

        Hoodie nodded his head with a gruff grunt. If there was one thing in the world that he hated, it was being the third wheel. He couldn’t stand being the outcast in a trio of people. He always felt left out and hated the marginalized feeling. One thing he hated especially was when he was the third wheel for a couple. Hoodie couldn’t understand why couples felt the need to shove their romantic connections into peoples’ faces. It was pathetic, disgusting, and he honestly thought that it was a pitiful plea for attention.

        Or, maybe he was still salty from his previous break-up with his girlfriend.

Chapter Text

The night's breeze whipped through their clothes as [Y/N] and Hoodie waited outside of the mansion for The Operator, awkward silence penetrating the atmosphere. Two motorcycles were already set up for them and ready to go. The pistol that was hidden in Hoodie's pants felt heavy and its cold metal sent a shiver up his spine. He shifted his legs to provide more comfort to himself, unaware of the fact that [Y/N] was staring at him expectantly, wishing for him to fill the uncomfortable silence.

She turned to Hoodie, not being able to stand the empty quiet a minute longer, with her lips turned upward into what she hoped was a friendly smile. However, it really looked like a creepy, serial killer grin. "Hi," she greeted.

Hoodie almost jumped when he saw [Y/N]'s face. Goosebumps rose along his arms and he cautiously took a step to the side, inching away from the weird woman that reminded him too much of Jeff with her weird-ass smile. He only replied with a singular grunt, too creeped out to say anything else.

'Jeez, people are so rude these days,' thought [Y/N]. 'Apparently even a simple hello is too much to ask.'

'Why does she look like that?' thought Hoodie. 'She looks like she's going to eat me.'

"Is your name really Hoodie?" asked [Y/N]. She didn't know what kind of cruel parents would name their child after a piece of clothing. She nearly guffawed when her mind answered that question, immediately conjuring up an image of Trender.

Knowing him, he would probably name his kid Balenciaga T-shirt or something.

Hoodie nodded at her question. Of course his name was Hoodie. Of course. (His name was actually Brian Thomas but she didn't need to know that.)

"By the way, can you even breathe in that thing?" [Y/N] gestured to "Hoodie's" black mask.

"I breathe like this," Hoodie took a hold of his cloth and lifted it slightly, revealing only his mouth. To emphasize his point, he drew in a big gulp of air. "HUAGHH."

In truth, Hoodie had pondered over the decision of cutting holes into his mask because every day, the thick cotton material would suffocate him like his loneliness suffocated his tortured heart.

Damn.

He sounded like an angsty teenager.

Anyway, it was also hot as fuck underneath the mask and every time he exhaled, all he would feel would be his hot, humid breath hitting his face. Unfortunately, he was currently out of toothpaste so instead of his breath smelling minty fresh, it smelled worse than a Porta Potty. Even Febreeze couldn't spray away that shit.

"Sorry for the wait, I had forgotten something."

Hoodie directed his gaze towards the sound of his boss's voice and saw him sprinting down the entrance steps. He was dressed in a black coat that covered up to his knees, a white dress shirt, and black pants. Silver brass knuckles adorned his clenched fists as The Operator wrapped his coat tightly around himself; the breeze had turned into a powerful wind that whipped around them during the wait. What really caught Hoodie's attention, though, was his boss's white velcro Sketchers that appeared as if it were made for little kids.

He heard the woman on the 'no-harm' list laugh before commenting, "I like your nice shoes, dum-dum."

Hoodie widened his eyes. He had never heard anybody address The Operator in such a condescending manner. It was practically a death sentence.

To his surprise, The Operator only chuckled with good humor. "They do complement my outfit quite well, don't they?" His boss then took off his black coat and handed it to [Y/N]. "It's quite cold outside, Birdy. Do you want to wear this?"

[Y/N] grinned meekly and tried to refuse The Operator's offer though it was apparent she was shivering. "No, I'm fine. I'm already wearing your shirt, anyway."

"Nonsense, it's clear that you're freezing. I don't want you catching a cold."

"Trust me, Slender, I'm fine." She grinned. "Plus, if I wear it, you'll be freezing, too."

"Please, let me—"

"I'll take it! I'm freezing my tits off!" Hoodie declared, not being able to handle it anymore. He stomped towards the shy couple similar to how a kid who was annoyed by their parents's gushy, lovey-dovey behavior would and yanked Slender's jacket from his hands. Pointedly, Hoodie put it on but the coat was two sizes bigger than him. He then walked back over to where his motorcycle was, the end of the jacket dragging on the ground like a sad wedding dress behind him.

"Jeez," Birdy whispered to Slender. "Who hurt him?"

Slender sighed. "I had heard he had just underwent a rough break-up. It's best if we don't take his behavior personally."

"Aww, I feel bad for him. I wish I could help." She stared at the masked man as he stalked over back to his motorcycle, hands at his sides and his chest held high. He climbed on top of his big bike with suave and elegant confidence before his foot got caught on Slender's coat and he nearly fell to the ground.

He regained his balance and pretended like nothing happened.

He then bent forward and unfastened his helmet from his helmet lock and put it on. After he was done, he looked at the couple and waited for them to get on theirs.

"Looks like he's waiting for us," stated Birdy.

"Indeed," replied Slender.

As they walked towards Slender's own motorcycle, a Honda Gold Wing equipped with a comfortable seat and armrests, Birdy complained, "Okay, now I'm actually really cold."

"Well, I did offer you my jacket but you declined my generous invitation."

"Tsk. You should've just kept it. I was going to steal it from you eventually."

"You always used to steal my sweaters back in high school. I still remember that one occasion where I gave you my jacket during 7th period. It began raining outside while I had P.E. and you had math in a warm classroom. I was drenched by the end of the day."

"Oh, yeah. Those were good times."

They both laughed at the memory as Slender subconsciously wrapped his tendrils around her waist, happy that she was back.

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The sky was a dark blue with speckles of white from gleaming stars dotting its horizons. It was a calming ocean above the chaos of the Double Bridge. The wind drifted through my hair, its invisible hand parting the many strands. The lights on the bridge twinkled and glimmered in the distance and the way it was lined along the railings reminded me of Christmas lights that would be hung around the borders of houses.

The combination of the engine's constant rhythm, the comfortableness of the bike's seat, and all the exhaustion from the long day overwhelmed me. Drowsiness hit my system and I fluttered my eyes, trying to keep them open. My arms wrapped around Slender's torso even tighter to prevent myself from falling as I felt myself slowly giving in to sleep's comforting embrace. It had been a long day and the relaxing white noise of the engine was enough to put me to sleep. I rested my head against Slender's back, hoping he didn't mind if I used him as a pillow.

His pine tree scent wafted into my airways. He had always smelled like the woods and it was pleasantly surprising how he still retained it even though he lived in the city now. It was a familiar, nostalgic smell.

Tranquility washed its waves over me as I watched the cars and other motorcycles cross Double Bridge along with us. I tiredly observed the people in the cars with barely open eyes. My breath came out in deep puffs as it decreased in rate, slowing down as if the pile of tension from today was slowly seeping out with every exhale.

"[Y/N], are you falling asleep?" asked Slender, his words loud enough so that I could hear him over the wind.

"Yeah, it's been a long day and I'm ready to pass out," I replied, covering my mouth as I yawned.

"Okay, I'll hold on to you while you doze off," he said. A reassuring pressure that I recognized as Slender's arm covered mine. I smiled softly against his shirt, remembering the intimate moments such as this that we shared back when we were younger.

We were kids then. Young and stupid teenagers filled with such strong ideas about the world. We didn't know yet what the future held for us. Our lives could have been characterized as a meandering asphalt road with the end still far away in the horizon, not yet in view. We didn't know where we were going, we didn't know where fate was leading us. We were just children who were content with living in the moment.

And maybe that's the important part.

Maybe we don't have to know where we're going. Maybe we don't have to know all the answers. Maybe we still have some growing up to do.

The only thing that we can do is experience life as it is, no matter how cliche it sounds. We're still young and the world's still changing so who's to say that we have to have our lives figured out by now?

Years ago, I never would have thought I would see my ex-boyfriend again, much less hug him like this. But, we're both here now and I guess that that's the only thing that matters.

As I watched the stars twinkle in the night sky, I thought about all that has changed since then. It was amazing how in seven years time, we transformed so much. We grew into different people, time changing us in equally different ways.

"Hey Slender," I murmured. In my sleepy state, I had noticed that we had slowed down to a stop, traffic pausing us before we could reach the mainland.

"Yes?"

"Isn't it weird how much different we've become?"

"Well, there's one thing that I know hasn't changed."

"Hm?"

Before sleep proved successful in coaxing me to close my eyes, I heard his reply. And, for some reason, I would always picture him to have a small smile when he said his next four words.

"My love for you."

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It had taken Slender and Hoodie 40 minutes to finally cross the bridge. The traffic cost them a lot of time and Slender was thinking of whether or not to inform his brothers that he was probably going to arrive back at the mansion much later than he expected. The Operator mostly felt bad for Hoodie, though. He knew that his lieutenant didn't ask for a late-night drive around the city.

Birdy was quietly snoozing on his back and Slender really didn't want to interrupt her peaceful slumber but he needed to know where she lived so he could drop her off. He knew that she lived close to Hammon's Hamburgers but he didn't know exactly where.

In fact, they were near the business front but on the way there, he didn't glimpse a single house that could have been [Y/N]'s. Or a suitable apartment that would fit her living needs.

He knew that The Nether was a rowdy and dangerous part of the Underworld but he was only reminded of just how off-putting the place could be as he rode into the area, Hoodie not too far behind him. Stray cats and dogs were scattered throughout the place; Slender had caught sight of a traveling pack of mangy canines that contained at least five members.

It was a run-down, deteriorating area with dilapidated houses that were ashamed of their peeling paint and shattered windows. Their yards were ugly to say the least and the greenery was essentially non-existent, only boasting a scarce amount of dead trees and bushes. It was a gloomy-looking place filled with vandalism and litter. He didn't know how [Y/N] could live in such a waste.

It reminded him too much of his beginnings before he became a crime lord.

Slender saw signs of recent drug deals: sneakers hanging on telephone wires, people loitering around shady buildings, individuals "talking" with drivers with the car windows rolled down. It was truly the signature of Heir Borne whose drug racket was booming.

Underneath a street lamp that cast a dying light, Slender saw a distinct figure walking swiftly with their head bent down. The Operator would have dismissed them as they didn't look that suspicious but something in his gut was adamant that there was something off about the person.

As the person headed in the same direction that The Operator and his Capo were going to, The Operator glanced behind him to look at Hoodie, nodding his head at the suspicious character—a signal for Hoodie that he didn't trust the being.

Hoodie responded with a half-nod, trusting his boss's instincts and discreetly pointed at himself—a gesture that meant, 'Do you want me to follow them?'

The Operator shook his head 'not yet', knowing that the action was too risky especially since they didn't know who could be watching at the moment. Instead, Slender motioned for Hoodie to park where he was at, deciding to watch the shady figure from afar.

Slender didn't realize that his grip on Birdy had tightened as they parked at a curb situated at the side of the restaurant, near enough to see who was going in and who was going out but far enough to garner any attention. They were shielded by the night and concealed by the awning's shadows. A few other expensive motorcycles were lined along the sidewalk so their own didn't seem too attention-grabbing.

However, Slender knew that expensive motorcycles meant high class mobsters. And a group of high class mobsters meant something was going on.

From the darkness, they watched as the person approached the front's* doors and opened it, glancing left and right as they did so. They then walked in, head bent down. The suspicious individual was too far away for neither The Operator nor Hoodie to see what the person looked like. They could only tell from their build that the person was a man in their early to middle 30's.

The Operator couldn't believe how stupid the man was as the man made himself very clear that he was doing something shady.

After an unexpected average amount of time had passed, the man walked out again, this time he shoved something thin and rectangular into his windbreaker. The Operator had guessed they were files of some sort.

Everything about the situation was sketchy and the mafia boss knew that he needed to gain more insight into what was occurring.

"Hoodie," The Operator said in his baritone voice.

"Yes, boss?"

"Tell one of your soldiers to keep an eye on this place. I have a feeling this is connected to the threat. I presume you've heard about it already?"

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose this is also connected to the two traitors that we had disposed of. Hmm.... Something is going on, Hoodie."

The Operator's lieutenant remained silent, alert.

It was at that moment, Birdy opened her eyes. She yawned, stretched her arms, and immediately saw that she wasn't in her bed where she was supposed to be. Instead, she was outside in the chilly air. In her sluggish state, her brain didn't process the fact that she was with Slender and Hoodie but rather, she thought that she was with two random strangers.

Still half-asleep, she screamed and almost woke the entire neighborhood. "Help! There's two random strangers trying to kill me!"

Immediately, Slender turned around and pressed a hand against her mouth only to retract it just as fast when he felt something slimy touch his palm. "[Y/N], did you just lick my hand?!"

Hoodie rolled his eyes. 'Couples and their PDA.'

"Oh, Slender, it's just you." She looked around in a confused daze. "Are we here to get burgers? I want burgers but the last time I came here, scary men wanted to kill me," she mumbled, placing her head against Slender's back while she secured herself by wrapping her arms around him.

"Scary men tried to what?!"

[Y/N] glared at him with her eyes shut. "Shh... people are sleeping."

Slender looked at his lieutenant who just shook his head.

"Wait, Birdy, can you tell me your address?"

"1234 Why Do You Want To Know Avenue."

Slender sighed. "Birdy, if you tell me, I'll give you 50 dollars."

"... Are you bribing me?"

Slender chuckled. "Yes."

"50 Nether Street Apt. 202. You better give me my 50 dollars now," she stated grumpily. "I had to use a lot of my big brain energy."

Slender smiled. 'Cute,' he thought.

"Can I get me some loving, too, boss? I'm feeling left out."

Slender stared down at his lieutenant in judgement before sighing. He then patted Hoodie on the top of his motorcycle helmet using one of his tendrils.

Underneath his mask, Hoodie smiled, feeling like he just accomplished something.

"Come on," Slender stated. "Let's go take this little birdy home."