Chapter Text
Fifteen years old and fully employed. Well, part time employed. Even so, Roy was a fresh faced freshman ready to take on the world. And by the world, he meant the neighborhood limits that Papa- Papa Louie- had set for him. Him and his bike, ready to take on the world.
After his parents died and he was thrust into foster care, Roy had moved from house to house for two years- that was, until his uncle caught wind of a homeless relative- him.
So, he took Roy in. At first, it was rough. He was a rowdy thirteen year old who had never known what a “home” was. Papa Louie looked over him with the care of a father he would never have. And for a while, it was perfect. Roy settled into his life, got a stable education and home life, stayed off the streets, stayed out of foster care, and out of trouble in general.
Then one day, Papa Louie asked him to join his pizzeria. On his fifteenth birthday. Up until that point, he’d been rather secretive about what he did, but there were signs that pointed to something more nefarious than a pizzeria. Of course, Roy wrote this up as an overactive imagination, and agreed to join his small business.
Where were we? Oh yeah.
Fifteen. Fresh faced. Bike delivery boy. Nepotistic position in the corporate ladder, but not something he could really take advantage of.
Looking back, he couldn’t seem to remember anything “before”. All he could remember was coming back to the tall, impersonal building. He’d tossed his bike to the side, no pizzas strapped to the back. The night was completely mapped out in his head. He rushed through the glass doors and into the green interior, his red shirt flapping loosely around his gangly frame. The lights in the back were off. That should have been his first sign.
“Papa?” Roy yelled, his low voice laced with hints of youth. He never called Papa Louie Louie. That would be weird. To him, he was Papa, the man who had saved his life. He held him in the highest regard, because why wouldn’t he? Roy was nothing without Papa.
“Papa?” He called again, hopeful despite the silent restaurant. “Where did he…” Roy stepped through the divider and into the back, his footsteps like an elephant’s against the checkered tile.
The back was empty, and all of the supplies were stationary. In the darkness, the space almost felt liminal, like he wasn’t supposed to be here. He felt frozen in time. Then he spotted the note on the counter. Curious, he picked it up.
It was Papa’s handwriting alright, hastily scribbled onto an order form. It read:
Roy:
Time for another adventure!
Run the Pizzeria while I’m gone
Papa Louie
What? He read the note, again and again and again, feeling his face heat up, his eyes burning with tears. How could he do this? He crumpled up the note and chucked it at the wall as hard as he could. Why? What had he done to deserve this? Where was Papa?
“Uhm, hello?” A voice sounded from the front. Roy froze. It didn’t sound like Papa. He wiped his tears and cautiously stepped out from the back.
At the counter stood a man with dark skin dressed in a yellow suit. His name tag read Kingsley.
“Is this place still open? The sign said so but I didn’t wanna intrude-”
“No,” Roy said meekly, “it’s open.”
The man’s face lit up.
“Oh well that’s lovely! See, I’m just off from work and I promised my kids I’d get them something special for tonight. Do I fill out one of these order doodads or do I just tell you?”
“I’ll fill it out for you.”
“Lovely, thank you so much, kind Sir. Alright, I’ll have…”
Kingsley’s voice drifted off. The room around Roy was swept into a void until it was just him holding the order slip, pencil poised above his paper. Ahead there was a mirror.
As if someone else was controlling his body, he walked over to the full length frame sitting in the void. The floor felt like water, yet he walked across it without issue.
His reflection was of- him? It looked like him, and when he raised his arm, the “reflection” did too, but this Roy was different. His skin didn’t have acne, his hair was longer, and his throat showed signs of an Adam’s Apple, something he was still hoping to have.
“What the-” He reached out to touch the reflection, but it too faded to mist.
He woke up in a cold sweat, his fifteen year old self confined to the dream of his seventeen year old self. Fuck. Another dream.
All of the events had happened. Well, except the weird mirror thing. But other than that they pretty much tracked. Orphaned at 11, adopted at 13, abandoned again at 15. Now he was a junior, running an entire pizzeria and doing online school when he wasn’t running his uncle’s empire. Or, at least part of it.
Through bleary eyes, he checked the time. 2:45 AM. God dammit. For the past couple months, Roy kept having the same dream, over and over again. Fifteen years old, the night Louie abandoned him. It played like a record that could never wear out. It haunted him in his sleep, and hung like an anvil over his head during the day.
It could snap at any second, but for now he laid awake, his eyes heavy with sleep but his mind racing with anger.
Louie had abandoned him. And he was never coming back.