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The floor below, a live band played music, floating over the chatter of a crowd of aristocratic guests, each dressed to kill in sharp tuxedos and vibrant dresses. Beneath all the noises are smaller things, the clinking of silverware on plates, the gentle splash of wine being poured, heels against hardwood floors. Every once in a while, laughter breaks out over some joke told, jokes that aren't audible from the carpeted room on the second floor. Roy was not on the floor below. He had already been sent up to his room by his parents after they had ample time to show him off to each guest like a trophy.
His parents had forced him to carpet his room after he'd taken up trumpet; said that it absorbed noise. They had soundproofed the walls also. They hated that instrument, no matter how well he learned to play, no matter how many awards he won in music competitions, no matter how many recitals his school arranged for him. He was sure now that his mother and father were informing their guests about how their son is musically talented, neglecting to mention the fact that they had never once heard him play in his life. There was one good thing that came out of it, though, and that was that, while he could hear the party below, they couldn't hear him.
Lights were off, a scene set to make it look like he'd gone to bed. If they thought he was asleep, they wouldn't check. Out of the dimmed quiet, a crackle of static rang out. "Beanie Baby to Striped Menace. Come in striped menace. Over," Ross' voice cut through the static of the walkie-talkie clutched in Roy's hand.
"I don't wanna be Striped Menace," Roy whined back.
His gaze lingered on the plastic device. His mother had thrown a fit when he asked if he could buy his own, insisting on knowing who'd he'd use it to talk to and that she'd have her own on hand to listen in to his conversations to make sure he wasn't talking to any "filthy commoners." The three boys had ended up pooling together their own funds to buy a set together, each taking one home and using them to communicate together. It was Roy's most treasured possession, one he stored carefully so that his parents would never find it. He didn't know what he'd do if they found it.
"Well then, what do you want to be?"
"Uh. Um." Roy thought carefully, "Sweater Weather?"
"Alright," Ross replied, "Come in, Sweater Weather. Over."
"I'm here. Over."
"We're in position and ready. Over," a new voice chimed in, this one Robert, codename: Backwards Lid."
Roy affixed his blue cap onto his head. It clashed with his outfit, leftover from the party, which he hadn't the time (or frankly the energy) to change out of. Instead, he opened his window, fear pounding in his chest. Thoughts raced through his mind, What if they hear anyways? What if someone walks in right now?
He didn't let his racing heart stop him from leaning out the window and out stretching his hand. A rope-like silhouette cut through the darkness, snapping towards him like a whip but brushing gently against his hand as he caught it with the ease of someone who'd done this countless nights before. No matter how many times he'd done this simple act, he let the feeling of the scratchy fabric linger on his hands as he tied the topmost sheet to the bedpost closest to his window. He often wondered when might be the last time he'd ever do this.
With the makeshift rope completed, Roy shimmied down the side of the house, still awkward after years of practice. He always felt as if the sheets would come untied underneath him, even though they never did. Reaching the soil underneath the second story window, uneven ground and scent of dirt familiar with freedom and thrill in his mind. This side of the house faced away from the front. Guests and passersby wouldn't see it, and his parents wouldn't think to come around until the night had passed, which was enough time for him to get his kicks.
If the guests at the party could have heard over the sounds of their chatter and jokes, the live music and the clinking of glasses, they would have heard the stifled laughter of three teenage boys outside, high-fiving, and excited whispers that weren't really whispers. Instead, the guests all stayed to themselves, as did Roy, Ross, and Robert.
"Dude, what are you wearing?" Robert snickered, the jab light-hearted.
What he was wearing was a tuxedo and dress pants to match the crowd on the ground floor level of his house. What he told them he was wearing was, "Stupid clothes my parents make me wear when they throw their dumb parties.
"You look nice, man," Ross assured him.
"Very classy," Robert chimed in.
Ross added, "My mom calls that look dapper."
There was a beat. Roy considered thanking them.
"What's the agenda for tonight?" Robert asked.
"There's a movie playing down at the theater, and I've been dying to see it," Ross replied, "Anyone else feel like sneaking in."
Roy answered with a wide grin, stretching from one ear to the other, showing all his teeth. His eyes narrowed at the thought of doing something so below him, something he could easily pay for and yet could just as easily skip over to spite his parents. Even now, there was a wallet full of cash in his pocket, and inevitably he'd start to feel guilty halfway through the movie, but the idea of his mother and father one day finding out that they never had power over him, not really, trumped every other thought in his mind.
Robert had his reservations. His response was a frown. Roy noticed that Robert always had a way of communicating with a glance. His eyes shone when he was joyful, his eyes were always teary when he was sad. Right now, his eyes were filled with a hesitant concern.
Ross must have been able to tell, too. "Don't worry, man, we'll get some. Popcorn. Or something. So that we don't totally screw over the workers," he offered Robert.
Robert's expression softened slightly, like his fears weren't dissipated, but they were assuage for now. An unspoken agreement had been met.
"Which way to the theater?" Ross asked.
Roy pointed. "That way."
The three boys scrambled across Roy's back lawn, and into the neighbor's. He was grateful that they'd never been caught cutting across lawns (save once, but he managed to talk them out of contacting any parents). Roy counted the row of house in his head, One, two, three, four, five, sidewalk. The row of houses ended unceremoniously, at the edge where the wealthy neighborhood ended and the middle-class neighborhood began, the border between a suburban nightmare and freedom- which was which depended on who you asked.
The trio stopped on the cement tiling of the sidewalk to catch their breath and gather their bearings. Robert chuckled through his heavy breaths- he always did. All his running with the Hatzgang, doing whatever they wanted without a care, and he never acclimated to the thrill. Everything made his eyes light up.
Ross added some strained laughter in with Robert's. Unlike Robert, Ross was still attempting to stifle his laughter. In Roy's opinion, it was the right call. Roy didn't like to join in laughter until they had safely crossed the sidewalk into the other neighborhood but he seemed to always find acceptions, anxious laughter coming up like a coughing fit.
Taking a deep breath, Roy settled back into his silence, as he and the other two crossed over the sidewalk, the barrier that kept Roy caged within his parents' reputation. They stopped short of the curb, looked left, right, left, then crossed the street. With the full escape finished, and with one last giddy laugh from Robert, the three friends began the walk to the movie theater.
Out here, Roy was the one who broke the silence. "Robert, with how giggly you are, how do you ever manage to sneak out?" he asked.
Ross and Robert's carefree smiles dwindled down to a concerned glance exchanged between the two. They both looked at Roy with uncertainty, almost like they were afraid to tell him something.
It seemed like they were always keeping secrets from him, or hiding away opinions against him. "Well?" Roy prompted, though his biting tone was masking a feeling of hurt.
"Roy, I don't sneak out of my house," Robert answered, deliberating on every word.
"Neither of us do," Ross added, "We just ask to leave."
"And we tell our parents who we're with and where we're going, too," Robert finished.
Concern or pity, Roy didn't know which he was being shown, or if there was even a difference. "Oh," he commented like he didn't care, "I shoulda figured."
He took a couple of steps forwards before a hand landed on his shoulder. "Hey," Robert said behind him, even though Roy refused to turn around to look at him, "If you ever need to talk about things, I'm here."
Roy shrugged his hand away, and kept walking, further ahead of his friends. "I'm fine. Really," he huffed out.
Ross and Robert were silent behind him, and he had to fight the urge to turn back to see if they were exchanging another pity-concern look. Soon, he heard two pairs of footsteps follow his lead. He could still feel their gazes fixed upon him, burning a hole into the back of his head.
Roy whipped around to face them. They stopped and stared at him. Ross was difficult to read when he wanted to be, but Roy could see the emotion swirling and twisting in Robert's eyes like a storm. Fear.
"I'm just waiting for you to catch up. You're so far behind," Roy lied, "If we get separated you'll get lost."
"True," Ross agreed with a slight nod.
What mattered more than agreement to Roy was the way that Ross untensed ever so slightly, the way that the fear in Robert's eyes subsided. Roy knew what it was like to feel unsafe around people you were meant to trust. He wasn't about to let himself be what made his friends feel unsafe.
The space between Roy and his friends grew smaller. He was still in the lead, but at least they looked like they were traveling in a group again. Words his mother once spoke echoed in his mind, If you're going to walk with them, then don't be seen with them. Walk ahead. Everyone will assume that you're better than them. He pushed her voice out of his head.
"So, how are things going with you, Rob?" Ross asked.
"My sis started watching this new show. It's pretty cute," Robert answered, "Got this little family of cartoon dogs. It's really good, too. My whole family likes it, pretty much."
"Oh yeah?" Ross asked, "What's it called?"
Before he could answer, Roy interrupted. "We're not here to watch baby shows, we're here to watch a cool movie that won't make you seem so… Dumb!"
A pause, then, "Dude."
The way that Ross would say that always made something somersault in Roy's stomach, something both cold and warm at once, something sickly. He didn't even mean it. Robert could ramble on and on about his sister, or his drawings, or the silly cartoons he'd watch under the guise of babysitting his younger sister, and Roy would be content with it. It was just that another feeling would creep up in Roy's stomach when he did. A feeling of tied knots that made his skin crawl and reminded him of his mother's condescending voice, his father's wordless, cold glare.
"I'm sorry." Roy always wished he could make those words less snappy and more genuine, the way he really felt. In a pout, he added, "Let's just go."
Robert didn't answer. Roy didn't want to turn around to see the emotion Robert was wearing right now. He couldn't, not when it was probably sad or hurt or any combination of the two, not when he knew he caused it.
If I don't look, then I didn't do it. Kinda, Roy reasoned with himself.
"Dude," Ross echoed, "You're going to have to do better than that."
Roy wanted to scream, but as often as he would give in to that temptation, this time he bit back his anger. "You can show me that show sometime," Roy muttered.
For a moment, Roy was scared that Robert still wouldn't reply. Maybe this time I've really done it, Roy fretted, He's going to leave and never come back. At school on Monday he'll tell me we aren't friends anymore.
"Really?" Robert broke the tension. Roy chanced a glance back at him, and his face was aglow with excitement.
"Really," Roy promised. He internally hoped that Robert might forget the promise. This was Robert, though, and if this was anything like agreeing to visit the zoo (which Roy's parents abhorred for harboring "smelly animals") or watching a marathon of corny sci-fi movies with low-budget special effects, then Roy foresaw cartoon dogs in his future.
Thankfully, he had a reason to halt any possible lingering on the subject. "We're here," Roy informed the other two boys, pointing at the movie theater. Really, they weren't there so much as they were standing on the threshold of the parking lot, as far away as one could get from the theater while still being at the theater.
Ross smiled. "Awesome! Now we get to watch Those Two Guys!"
"Oh man! I've been so excited for that one!" Robert chimed in, "I didn't know it was out yet, that's awesome!"
"Those Two Guys?" Roy gawked, "You guys want to check out some stupid comedy? I thought we were going to sneak into- I don't know- a horror movie, or something R-rated!"
Ross and Robert each gave him a skeptical look. "Have you seen the trailer for Those Two Guys?" Ross asked.
Roy pouted. "No," he admitted.
"You'll like it, man, I promise," Robert assured with a soft pat on the back.
Roy grimaced. "Mm. Okay," he hesitated.
"Yeah, man, it'll be awesome!" Ross told him, giving him a gentle shove forward.
Roy began walking again, each step feeling grave. He could almost hear his mother in his mind, wondering, You're with them? His father, in his mind's eye, added, "Going to see that movie?
Roy drew his arms up around his shoulders. Even now, no peace.
"You alright, man?" Robert asked.
"Fine. Just cold."
"Dude, you never get cold," Ross pointed out.
"Well I am tonight!" Roy snapped. Roy knew the temperature was barely anything less than a modestly cool evening.
"It is a little chilly," Robert commented.
Ross deliberated, like he was testing the temperature on the early autumn air as they crossed the parking lot. "I guess," he hummed.
As they stepped into the theater, Roy knew he had to put his arms down, or risk further attention. He settled for crossing his arms. That was a gesture that no one batted an eye at.
"Man, guys, maybe we should just pay," Robert whispered, "It's only twelve dollars a ticket."
"C'mon dude," Ross prompted, "That's way too much for a movie ticket. We're already going to probably spend twice that amount on concessions."
"Yeah, Rob, do your thing," Roy pushed.
Robert sighed, "Alright." He guided the two to a door labeled 'staff only.' The door was wedged between the queue and the ticket counter, somewhere an ordinary guest wouldn't bother to look. Robert stared at the door's keypad in dismay, before punching in numbers, hiding the code with his free hand so the others wouldn't see. As often as he helped his friends sneak into movies, he still refused to break his brother's trust by telling them what the code was.
Behind the doorway was a hallway. Robert's brother had said that it once was a walkway from the main room into the area where the rows of theater doors were lined, but after a remodel job, it had become obsolete, knowledge that had been passed from Robert to the other two. Evidently, between becoming obsolete and completely forgotten, it had been used for storage. Old brooms and mops that were long retired from their janitorial duties lie idle on the strange hallway's floor, leaving the hall permanently smelling of dust and stagnant water.
They learned better than to turn the lights on in the room. Forgotten or not, the fluorescence buzzed loud. For all their luck, it had been Radford that caught them, and the only consequence was Robert getting an earful from his mother later that night. Instead, they each pulled out their phones and turned on their flashlights as they crossed the room. The movement of the light caused the shadows on the walls to twist and travel with them, but even in the distortion, Roy thought he saw something in the room shift.
Maybe it's a good thing we aren't going to see a horror after all, Roy thought to himself.
When they reached the other side of the hallway, Robert popped his head out from behind the door, and scanned the immediate area. Seeing no staff in the area, Robert stepped out, and held the door open behind him so that Roy and Ross could exit after him. Roy cast one last glance behind him before Robert closed the door. Roy hoped that if the movement he saw really was a person- or especially if it wasn't- that it wouldn't be able to get out.
"How'd you get back there?" a cheerful voice asked.
Roy practically jumped out of his skin. He whipped around to face the speaker.
The speaker in question was Skid, the local weird kid, four feet of stupid, but with the luck to avoid the consequences with ease. He stood before the trio staring up at them with a wide, stupid grin. His eyes were wide and friendly behind the mask he always wore, a skull complete with skeleton costume, full body and easily mistaken for something otherworldly if he ever was seen in a dimly lit room. Beside him, excitedly trying to catch a glimpse of the door from behind the three boys, was Skid's best friend, Pump. Slightly shorter and pudgier, but besides that, the description was about the same, save for his costume, a suit and a pumpkin head, for which he earned his nickname.
Robert stared at the two boys, mouth agape. He was clearly trying to find a way to explain without revealing that he helped his friends sneak into the movie theater and without lying.
Roy stepped in, "We have a special pass that lets us through. You'll never get one, so there!"
Ross and Robert short him a look that wasn't quite a glare, but just as judgemental as one. Ross turned back to the two kids and continued, "What Roy means is that we have a shortcut we're allowed to use because Rob's brother works here."
"Oh!" drawled Skid and Pump in unison.
"Can we see inside?" Pump asked.
"No," Roy answered quickly.
"Yeah, that's a no from me too," Robert added, to Roy's relief.
Ross backed them up further, "We're not really supposed to."
"Aw, okay," Skid hummed with a small frown.
"You going to watch Those Two Guys?" Robert asked, inching the two groups away from the door so they didn't look suspicious.
"No," Pump answered.
"We're gonna watch a horror movie," Skid added.
"You're not old enough to watch the horror movies here," Roy taunted.
"We were let in," Pump informed him.
"You sure you're ready to see a horror movie on your own?" Robert asked.
Roy rolled his eyes. Robert was speaking with the same tone he spoke to his little sister with.
"Uh-huh!" Pump nodded
Skid continued, "We do this all the time!"
"Alright, whatever, we've got our own movie to watch," Roy concluded the conversation. He side-eyed Ross and Robert. "Right guys?"
Robert awkwardly agreed, "Uh. Yeah."
Ross muttered, "Bye guys."
"Bye!" Skid and Pump squealed as they scrambled away from the trio and towards their horror movie.
"Dude. What's your deal?" Ross asked.
Roy shot him a confused glance. "What do you mean?"
"Why are you so mean to them?" Robert clarified.
Roy huffed. He crossed the hall to the door of the room that was showing Those Two Guys. ""I dunno."
"It's not cool, dude," Ross reprimanded.
Roy spun around. "Hey! It's not like you're innocent or anything. You used to be the same as me."
He wasn't expecting either reaction that they gave him. Robert's eyes got big and sad; they almost looked heavy with guilt. Ross' expression was one of reproach.
"You started it, you know!" Ross accused, jabbing a finger at Roy, "If it weren't for you, we probably would have left them alone."
"Well you didn't seem to have a problem with it back then!" Roy hissed back. He looked to Robert.
"Even so, you really need to chill out, man," Robert told him, rubbing one arm out of nervous habit, "You..." He hesitated. "You're not really all that nice. To anyone."
Roy watched with a heavy heart as Robert's eyes flicked down to gaze at the faded carpet of the theater. "I'm nice to you," Roy pouted.
"Roy, you're really not," Ross corrected.
Roy tried to mask how heartbreaking that was to hear from one of his best friends. It was even worse that Robert didn't object. Roy opened his mouth, preparing to yell or scream or argue or anything, but no sound came out.
Then, because it hadn't been crushing enough, Ross added, "I'm only telling you this because I care for you, alright."
"Alright," Roy snapped back. He shoved the theater room door open. "Come on, let's just watch the movie."
"I- I'm sorry, dude," Ross sputtered behind him.
Robert muttered, "We didn't want to hurt your feelings, it's just-"
"Sh," Roy whispered back to them, his tone still biting at such a low volume, "It's rude to talk during the movie."
History often repeats itself, and this was no different. Halfway through the movie, Roy stuck his hands in his pockets. His right hand brushed against a wad of dollars, enough to pay for three movie tickets and concessions, and still have enough for a trip to the candy store afterwards. He tapped his shoes together. As the crowd of the theater roared with laughter over a joke, Roy whispered, "I'm going to go to the bathroom, be right back."
Roy slipped out of his chair, and hurried out of the room. He walked up to the ticket counter. "Uh," he muttered to the ticket guy, who looked bored out of his mind, "Three tickets for Those Two Guys, please."
The man glanced down at him, and cocked an eyebrow. "Three? After the movie has started?"
"Do you want my money or not?" Roy coaxed.
The man shrugged, and exchanged tickets for money.
"Thank you," Roy hummed, even though he felt like he really should be saying you're welcome instead.
He moved away from the ticket booth to the concessions. He peaked at the menu, trying to spot everyone's favorite treat. He waved a hand to get the attention of the guy manning the cash register. "Hey, can I get a popcorn, and a sour skittles, and a-"
"Reynold?"
Roy nearly jumped out of his skin, even though it was not the voice of his mother or father. It was the mildly teasing but mostly surprised voice of Radford instead.
"R- Roy," he corrected, stumbling over the word. He didn't know why Robert told his brother his full name, or why Radford found it so funny.
Radford was already placing the usual items that Roy would get for his friends on the counter. "Did you tell them this time?" he asked.
"No. Of course not," Roy answered.
"They'd probably think this is cool of you," Radford advised.
Roy crossed his arms. "No they wouldn't. The whole point of sneaking into the movies is not paying."
Radford shrugged. "Maybe. I wouldn't know. I work here. I don't have to sneak in."
"See?" Roy gestured between the two of them, "You wouldn't get it."
"You never know until you try, though," Radford hummed, "It drives Robbie crazy, you know. He thinks he's gonna get me fired."
"He does?" Roy wondered.
"Yeah," Radford confirmed, "I'd probably make him feel better to know that you've paid for almost every movie he's ever snuck into."
Roy gathered up the treats into his arms, and thought for a moment. "I'll… I'll think about it."
Radford nodded. "Enjoy the movie, Reynald." He held out his name, teasing.
Roy flinched. "Roy," he corrected once again, as he began to walk back to the movie room. He grimaced. He'd explain why he disliked it so much if he had the words.
Instead, he justified in his mind, It's just like when he calls Robert 'Robbie' even though Robert hates it. It did not feel just like calling Robert 'Robbie.' Deep down, Roy knew.
As Roy approached the room where he and his friends were watching the movie, a sliver of darkness caught his eye. He turned back, wide eyed. The door to the hallway that he, Ross, and Robert had snuck through was ajar.
He took one step towards his friends, then another. He turned to face forward again, pretending he had seen nothing. He crept back into the theater room and reunited with Ross and Robert. He held out the treats to them without a word.
"Thanks," Ross and Robert whisper-shouted in unison.
"No problem," Roy whispered back. He hesitated. "The door we came through is open."
"What? Aw man," Robert sighed, "I'm so sure I closed it."
"Can you go close it?" Ross asked, "Since you're up. Y'know."
Someone in the row behind them shushed them, leaving Roy with no choice but to nod his head, even though his expression was one of a person who did not want to leave again. Thank goodness they had chosen seats at the very end of the row.
Once he was outside of the room once again, he slouched as he crossed over to the door. There was another feeling mixed with his annoyance, one that tried to pull him back, one that wanted to drag Ross and Robert out into the hallway with him. Fear.
There's nothing in there, He told himself, It was just the flashlights casting shadows. Just your imagination. You're overreacting.
Still, he peered into the darkness of the abandoned hall, and waited to see something shift. His heart pounded once, twice, thrice. There was nothing. He closed the door gently, and stepped away from it so none of the staff might see him.
Roy laughed to himself. "See?" he breathed, "Nothing."
Through the buzz of the idle popcorn machine in the lobby and the muffled reactions of people watching movies, a sound caught his ears. "And you really can do something spooky?"
Roy groaned. Of course the moment he felt relief, that kid would show up.
And then, a voice he didn't know responded, "I promise. But, it won't work unless you take off that mask of yours."
Roy turned towards the voices. Skid was standing at the end of the hall next to a stranger shrouded in shadows. Roy felt cold and warm all at one at the sight of the silhouette. He was certain at that moment that it was what he saw in the hall.
"Hm," Skid deliberated, "I don't know. My mask is very important. It makes me spooky!"
"Sh," the stranger hissed, "The trick doesn't work if more than two people see it, remember."
"But you will show Pump after, right?"
"Sure."
Roy didn't know what the stranger's plans were, but as he watched the stranger grip onto Skid's shoulder with one hand, and try to pry off his skeleton mask in the other, it filled Roy with a terror. A terror he hadn't known since…
Well, he didn't like to think about it. What he did think was, I can't let that happen to anyone else. Not even the obnoxious and unfairly lucky weirdo kid.
Roy ran down the hall, even though he was certain that he'd gone numb with fear. "What are you doing?" he squeaked, his fear poorly masked. That was not a side of him he wanted this most likely dangerous stranger- or really Skid, for that matter- to see.
"He's showing me a trick that makes him extra spooky," Skid explained. He was fighting to keep his mask on, despite his cheerful tone.
"Stay outta this, pipsqueak," the stranger warned, "Go back to your movie."
Roy grabbed onto Skid, and pulled him away from the man. The man still had Skid's mask firmly in his grip, and as Roy snatched Skid away from him, the skeleton mask slid off the boy's head with a pop. The man stared down at the detached mask for a few aching seconds, before he dropped it to the floor. The man smiled, wide and chilling, and stepped forwards towards the two boys. As the light hit him, Roy noticed two sharp fangs glisten.
"Cool, you look like a vampire!" Skid exclaimed, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.
"You want some of your own?" the vampire man asked.
"Yes!" Skid answered, trying to squirm away from Roy.
Roy tightened his grip. Maybe what he had thought was happening wasn't what was happening, but he had no doubt in his mind that this man was a real vampire. Weirder things had happened, especially around this kid.
"In fact, it's an open deal," the vampire offered, "I have more than enough for both of you, and your little friend."
"So I can go get Pump now?" Skid asked.
"No, not yet," the vampire shook his head, "Just wait a little longer."
"No!" Roy shouted at the same time. He yanked Skid further away from the vampire.
"Let go of me!" Skid insisted, "I want the cool fangs, too."
"No, you don't!" Roy insisted, "Besides, once you put your mask back on, you wouldn't be able to see them anyway."
Skid thought for a moment. "I guess so," he admitted.
"Alright, then, let's get out of here," Roy insisted. He began to drag Skid down the hallway. He wasn't sure where they were going besides away from the man.
"Don't you want-"
"No!"
"Are you serious dude?" asked Ross' accusatory voice.
Roy froze, startled. Ross and Robert stood in front of him, both with their arms crossed. "It- I- It's-"
"You were taking forever so we came here to see what's up, and this?" Robert asked, gesturing to Skid, whose wrist was clamped by Roy's fist, "Man, what? I thought you'd give it up for tonight at least."
And then a shadow fell over Roy. Ross and Robert both stared with wide eyes at the figure that Roy knew was lingering over him even though he refused to look back at the man. Skid waved and smiled at the man.
"Will you give them fangs, too?" Skid asked.
"The more, the merrier," the man replied.
Robert looked at Skid with wide eyes. "Were you talking to this guy?" he asked. Skid nodded with pride. Robert continued, "Stranger danger, little man. Why'd you go and do that?"
"He's not a stranger! His name is Antione, and he likes Halloween!" Skid explained, "That makes him a friend."
"Him telling you his name does not make him not a stranger!" Robert hissed in the same desperate tone he would speak to his little sister with.
Robert grabbed Skid, and Ross grabbed Roy, and both pulled them away from the vampire towering over them. The four kids stared at the vampire for a pounding heartbeat, three pairs of horrified eyes, and one pair of innocent, mildly annoyed eyes. "Can I have my mask back? Skid asked, breaking the spell of shock over the three older boys. Without allowing the vampire to answer, Roy, Ross, and Robert scrambled away from the Vampire, dragging Skid along with them.
Roy momentarily wondered how they must have looked to the staff. They were quiet save their hurried breaths and Skid's complaints about leaving behind his skeleton mask, but they burst into the lobby like bats out of hell. He didn't have time to look, but it seemed like either the staff didn't care or were stunned silent. He chanced a glance back, and saw the vampire still on their tail.
Radford, still on shift at concessions, looked from the boys to the vampire, then jumped over the counter. "Robert!" he shouted.
Robert nearly stopped at his brother's call, but Ross and Roy forced him to keep going.
Not going for the exit doors was a mistake. As they crossed to the other end of the theater, they reached a wall. The usually pleasing red paint seemed an omen for their fate, dark and faded crimson like dried blood. Roy watched as Robert put a hand against the wall, his eyes brimming with many emotions at once; regret, fear, mourning, all things that Roy himself could relate to in the moment. He really thought he could be the hero for once in his short, wretched life, but as per usual all he did was make things worse for more people.
Roy was distracted by the sound of someone blowing a raspberry. He turned around, wide eyed, to see Skid sticking his tongue out at the vampire. "I'm not a-scared of you!" He called.
Roy pulled Skid back by the collar of his costume. "Are you serious?" He hissed, "Shut the hell up!"
All four of them had their backs against the wall now, yet Skid was still determined to downplay the severity of the situation. At least Skid had finally determined that the guy was not a friend, but a stranger that intended to do him harm. Roy had questions about why Skid would react with anger instead of fear, especially when both Skid and his friend ("Where's he?" Roy wondered) were notoriously kind. If anything, Roy was impressed by the boldness from the nine year old.
"None of us are scared of you," Ross added suddenly. Roy gave him a look, and Ross shrugged.
"I'm scared," Robert admitted, nearly inaudible.
Well, Roy supposed, If I'm going to die, or be turned, or whatever this vampire is gonna do, I might as well fight like hell. He narrowed his eyes and readied himself and...
CLANG.
Someone from behind hit the vampire over the head with what appeared to be the metal pot that held popcorn kernels in a popcorn maker. Vampires may be immortal, but it seemed that they had some humanity left over. The vampire collapsed to the ground.
"Yay! You did it!" Skid cheered as the other three boys stared at the vampire's motionless body in shock.
The vampire's assailant ran over to Robert and hugged him. "Oh my god," Radford gasped, "Thank goodness you're okay."
Robert blink, then hugged his brother back. "Thanks, dude," he breathed.
Ross, back literally to the wall, let out a long breath and slid down to the floor. "Do y'think he was a real vampire, or just a freak?" He asked slowly, quietly. He kept his head low, out of sight. Ross had a tendency of keeping calm until the danger was over; Roy had a feeling that he was hiding tears of relief.
"He was a real vampire!" Skid exclaimed, happy as a clam once again, "He had to be!"
Ross looked from Skid to Roy. He didn't say anything, but Roy could tell what he wanted anyway.
"Hell if I know," Roy shrugged, "After that demon god thing, anything seems possible."
Ross swiped a sleeve over his face and sniffled, trying to downplay it as just being a cool guy doing cool things. He stood back up and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Roy could see the glint of tears hanging off Ross' eye lashes despite his best efforts.
Robert walked up to the pair. "Hey, uh," he muttered, "Rad want me to stay here until his shift is over so he can drive me home."
"I can give you all a ride home," Radford offered, "It might not be the best idea to walk out there now."
Roy tried to think of a way to explain that he couldn't exactly be dropped off outside his house without getting Robert into serious trouble. He was coming up blank. "That won't be necessary," Roy decided.
Radford looked at Ross. Ross pointed a thumb at Roy. A silent I'm with him.
Radford looked down at Skid. "How about you, lil guy?"
"I'm going home with Pump after our movie," Skid explained, unfazed by what just happened, "I missed a lot already, so I better go back now."
Skid waved and started to leave, then stopped. He turned around and looked at Roy one more time. He didn't look so chipper now, instead puzzled. "Um. Thanks Roy," he said.
For a moment, without his mask on, Roy saw Skid. Really saw him. He was just some kid. Still stupid, and still lucky, but also defenseless and gullible. Not the same defenselessness and gullibility that made Roy feel powerful, but the kind that made Roy feel powerless, a kind he could relate to.
Then, humming a tune to some Halloween song, Skid ran to wherever he and Pump were watching their horror movie. Roy had a feeling that Skid would make a detour to retrieve and put on his skeleton mask. He wondered if Skid knew that the mask made him feel less human than other people. He wondered if Skid wore it for that reason.
"We should probably get going before your parents notice you're gone," Ross advised.
"They won't," Roy assured him, but he began walking towards the exit anyway. He waved to Robert and Radford on the way out.
The chill of November stung against his skin. It really was chilly now, and he still was in his stupid party outfit. He missed his sweater, hung up in the corner of his closet, the place his mother always shoved it with disdain. He huffed, and his breath came out in a frosty cloud, barely visible in the light shining through the theater's windows.
Ross wasn't much of a talker, only joining in conversations after they'd been started. Still, his quiet voice cut through the quiet of the outside world. "That was really nice of you."
Roy crossed his arms. "It was stupid of me. I could've gotten killed, and for what? For the wierdo Halloween kid?" He scoffed. "No way…"
"Do you regret it?" Ross asked.
Roy hesitated, wondering which answer might be seen as the correct one by his friend. Unable to reason one out, he decided to tell the truth and hope for the best. "Not really."
Ross nodded. He looked into the distance for a moment as they walked. He was as unreadable as Robert was an open book, and that worried Roy. Finally, Ross said, "Cool."
Roy couldn't help but smile. There were very few times that Ross had called him cool, and as both Ross and Robert became less angry with the world and more kind, those few times became less and less. It made Roy think.
"I'm sorry I called you mean," Ross mumbled, "There was probably a nicer way I could have put it. I'm just bad at talking."
Roy sighed. "Listen, I… I don't think you're wrong. If you were, Rob probably would have said something," he admitted, "I've been a pretty awful friend. I'd like to be a better one, but I guess I just don't know how."
Ross shrugged. "You were right about something, too. We were all like that."
Roy nodded. He paused. "But you guys got better. Maybe I'm just broken."
Ross looked over to him. His expression was questioning, but somehow non-judgemental. He expected more.
"Like, I dunno. My parents aren't nice people," Roy continued, "Maybe it's my destiny or something to be the same."
"No," Ross insisted, "Sometimes you can be mean as all hell, but not like them. You're different."
"How do you know?"
"If you were like them, you wouldn't be here right now." Ross looked down at his feet. "In fact, you put up a damn good fight to keep being here."
"Oh." That was a hard statement to bounce off of, at least for him. There were a lot of things he wanted to say on the topic, a lot of feelings he had about his parents' selection of preferable friends for him to hang out with, and none he could put into words.
"D'ya think it's safe out here?" Ross asked.
Roy shrugged. "Hopefully, now that everyone's safe, Radford's called the cops."
Ross nodded. "Is that a yes?"
"Not at all."
"Mm." A few more steps, and then, "This place is not normal."
"What gave that away?" Roy asked dryly.
Ross shook his head. "I know it's obvious," he admitted, "It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes."
"If you want, I could walk you home first," Roy offered. He very much did not want to walk home alone, but he could live with it (hopefully) if he had to.
"Nah. I literally used all my blankets to make that rope-thingie for you. I need those back."
That was relieving. "You could stay, then."
"Is that a good idea? With your parents?"
"Nope. But I can put up with them."
"What if they actually put locks on your window this time?"
"I'd deal."
"I wouldn't," Ross admitted.
Roy looked at him. "What d'you mean?"
"I enjoy hanging out with you. Robert enjoys hanging out with you," Ross explained, "If you're not here, then what are we? A kid who hardly talks and a cry baby?"
"You get along fine," Roy grumbled.
"Well, duh, I didn't say we didn't," Ross continued, "It's just that… You're important, dude. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have zero friends right now."
"Yeah, probably," Roy commented. He winced at how insensitive he was being, but brushed it off. Ross admitted to it, so Roy could too, even if Ross gave him an exasperated look in response.
"And Rob, he'd still be so squishy. For better or for worse, at least when you showed him how to push others around, he stopped being pushed around," Ross pointed out, "Like, yeah, we could keep hanging out without you, but we just don't want to."
Roy sniffled, and tried to disguise it as being cold because it was late at night in November, and he still didn't have his sweater, which made him a little angry, but he'd just ignore it. "I guess," he dismissed the claim.
This late at night, the neighbors were usually asleep, so they didn't have to worry about running across their yards for fear of being spotted. Still, as they crossed through the yards, Roy couldn't help but feel the same apprehension. He was almost home, one of his least favorite places to be.
"If you really think you'll be fine on your own," Roy sighed.
Ross nodded to reassure his friend, but his nigh-unreadable face seemed to have a glimmer of uncertainty in it.
"Good luck, then. Stay safe," Roy told him as they approached his house.
The daunting task of climbing back up the window was not a problem, as always. He'd asked Ross and Robert how they'd made these things before, but he'd have to ask again. As he finally reached his window and entered back into his room, he tossed the make-shift rope of tied together blankets down to Ross.
Ross caught the rope. He held a thumbs up to Roy, his smile small and thankful. Roy waved goodbye, and Ross did likewise. Roy watched as his friend left. He kept watch until he couldn't see him anymore. You never know what could be out there, after all. He hoped everything would be alright for his friend.
Roy sighed, and flopped onto his bed. He should probably take his stupid, fancy clothes off now, but he wasn't really in the mood. He never was in the mood to do much of anything after getting home. There was probably a word for the feeling. He wouldn't know.
Ross' words echoed in his brain. We could keep hanging out without you, but we just don't want to. That made him feel something too, another something he didn't really have the words to describe. He supposed if he had to call it something, he would call it the feeling of being wanted. Roy smiled.