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The quesadilla island must warmly welcome: President Forever and his First Consort, Mr Badboyhalo.
“Why ask me this? Why insist on such a ridiculous ceremony?!” Bad hisses, his foot an inch away from the edge of the cliff he had found. He came there to end it all, embrace the crush of darkness over the gradual fade of colours in his vision. Strands of blond hair waved along the wind, freed from being tucked under the hood Bad insists on hiding under. This time, he let be. This time, he was too tired to care. Isolated in a house filled with materials, machines, and animals for his son was too much. Everywhere he looked was the same gradient grey, like gravestones littered in a cemetery.
Someway, somehow, Forever – President oh, president Forever found him. On his face plastered a twisted too wide of a grin. His suit, impeccably white, akin to a certain fur of a creature that always visits, was a testimony of where his loyalties lie. It gave Bad the urge to drag it down in the mud before burning it whole until all that was left were dark, crusted ashes.
The man with braided blond hair moved which caused Bad to back up. The inches from the edge decrease in alarm. Forever noticed this and stopped, but the smile on his face just got meaner. “Why not?! It is the perfect day for a wedding!” he simpers, “the air is so bright and— oh! Look Badboy, the sun is setting! Isn’t this amazing?”
He turned his head and sure enough, the bright wash of light across the horizon was stretching in far rays. The sky was greying, tinged with fading black. How lovely, It would have been the perfect last scene to watch as he decays from below.
“Do not make this harder, Badboy.” Forever’s voice suddenly pulled him out of his musings, causing him to look back and find that the other was a lot closer than before, stopping a meter away before getting down on one knee. “Let’s get married,” Bad sees a ring which he guesses is gold knowing the man.
The real Forever wouldn’t do this, Bad wonders with tired eyes. The man he interrogated confessed after all, to giving up on love. Well, of course, that does not mean that whatever is happening has anything to do with love. No, absolutely not. Bad supposes himself to recoil in disgust, yet no actual emotion comes. He thinks that he should be, what with how messed up this was. Perhaps Forever is being controlled by the federation… maybe the man proposing to him right now is the federation.
It makes Bad chuckle bitterly. “Why…” his tone was exasperated.
“Beacuse—!”
“Why do this? You don’t actually want this wedding, right? What do you get from this?”
The playful expression on Forever’s face never wavered, as if a poster had been glued to his face. “You are seeing the world wrong, Badboy,” he starts again, “I want us to marry because it is the best. I will help you. ”
White eyes squint in a flare of annoyance, slapping the offered ring as Bad yells, “I don’t want your help, I want my son! I need him back!” The movement brought his balance to motion, propelling him backwards in a wash of air, and finally, he could see Dapper again soon.
His slip however was shortlived as a hand around his wrist gripped tight in a steel-like hold. Why couldn’t anyone just leave him be? No response whatsoever, Badboyhalo was dragged back to the surface. Forever has strength, a lot more strength than what his thinner frame should exhibit. He lost weight as soon as the situation with the eggs started.
“You are so silly, Badboy. How can you see Dapper if you are dead?” Forever chuckles but this time it was strained. Forced, to be exact. “The eggs are fine, Bad! You can’t see it, but I will help you! I will tell Cucurucho to help you!” Letting go of his wrist after a squeeze, “I will watch over you,” he says cheerily as it is eerie.
At this, Bad fell silent. He knows better, knew that surrendering himself to the federation is as good as being dead. He knows which one to choose once it comes to that point. And that point was now. Sullen eyes watch as the president walks to where the ring had landed, picking it up and rubbing it on his suit. Bad pursed his lips, he concedes. Forever was right, he shouldn’t die. He didn’t deserve to, after all, it is his fault that he failed to protect his children. Who did he think he was? How pathetic was it of him to escape from his punishment?
When went back to it, Forever was once again kneeling on one knee before him. An animated smile plastered on his lips. He and Forever, are two sides of the same coin; two celestial bodies that somehow match despite all the odds. “Let’s get married, Badboy!” So, awfully, delusionally positive it made Bad want to rip his ears and stuff it down the man’s larynx. It was the perfect punishment. Maybe throughout this, he could bring Forever down with him.
With a bite on the inside of his cheek, Bad hesitantly nodded. If he was going to die then he might as well do it in a suitable way. “Okay,” he breathes, “I accept.”
With a slip of a golden band, and a church bell ring officiated by a 7-foot-tall bear-like creature with an eerie face, the quesadilla island must warmly welcome: President Forever and his First Consort, Mr Badboyhalo.
The invited citizens did not cheer save for Ayypierre and Pac. It was as if they could already see that this was just two trains heading into collision from a mile away. Down the aisle where the music of a badly written wedding march that was awfully similar to a funeral’s hymn, Badboyhalo and Forever left the church together, in a pair of clashing emotions. Forever was waving, dancing, and grinning to mimic a proud man, while Badboyhalo remained neutral. Uncaring, unmotivated. Something did flash across his face, mind you, a small glimpse when he found Foolish’s eye amongst the crowd. The totem looked like he had just been slapped. In another life, he would have laughed. Hollered until he was coughing. Now, it just didn't provoke further emotions.
Behind closed doors when they were alone, Forever wrapped his arms around him, hugging from behind as they gazed at the protesters that gathered later that day. Their reflections on the huge glass wall were visible when the pair shifted their focus. The blond man still had that same grin when he woke up this morning.
“Cucurucho said that he don’t want to give you the pills because you are special,” he said in faux softness that made Bad wince on the inside. “I agree with him, you know? I said yes. My husband is very special. Very cute, just perfect.” There it was with the word perfect. Nothing was perfect. Not their lives, not the wedding, nothing will ever be with the lack of children running around and placing signs. They didn’t say I love you during the ceremony because they did not, in fact, love. No.
Richarlyson, Dapper, Pomme, and every lost egg. This is for them. He failed to protect, thus, this is his deserved punishment. He vowed to die for them, and he will.
“I will watch over you,” Forever says once more and Bad allows himself to be moved, pressed close to Forever’s chest.
Worn, dim eyes met a pair of abnormally large pupils of brown ones.
“And I, you too.”