Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Freedom. A concept that most think they have, but can be ripped away in an instant. Something you can rip away if you don’t keep your damn mouth shut, something that you may have never truly had. But even after incarceration, are you really, truly free?

Veneer asked that question to himself a lot, but he chose not to dwell on it. After all, why dwell on something you can’t fix? There’s more important things to dwell on instead.

Like what he would do now. Being released from prison alongside his sister and moving back into his parents’ house all in the day prior was a lot, and it proved itself to be. He was grateful he was able to depend on his parents after all this, and he figured he’d allow himself a few days to sort things out.

He sighed as he looked up at his dark ceiling, the light of the moon and stars shining through his childhood curtains along with his nightlight. He always found his fear of the dark silly. I mean, he was seventeen years old, and still needed to sleep with a nightlight! Pathetic, isn’t it? Even so, that night light brought him comfort. It reminded him of when he and Vel were kids; not a care in the world for the two of them.

But now, he couldn’t find himself able to sleep. He couldn’t for his life figure out why — he was exhausted. Maybe he just needed something to help him relax. He didn’t want to risk it with Melatonin or any other medication, he’d seen far too many pills in his time at Rageous. Maybe he just needed to relax, a task of some sort to keep his mind off things.

With a small grunt of effort, he stood up and grabbed his phone to turn on the flashlight. He double checked everywhere around his room, and turned the fairy lights across his wall off. He opened his door quietly, stepping out into the halls and tip-toeing down the stairs.

Before he knew it, the kitchen light was on, and he was making stress-pancakes, chocolate chip edition. He bit at his lip as he tried to distract himself, biting off some of the skin there. He didn’t even notice the ever-growing stack of pancakes on the plate beside him, nor the sleepy footsteps of somebody walking into the lit kitchen.

“...Venny?”

That voice caused Veneer to jump, burning his hand on the hot pan.

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Veneer was never like the other boys his age, that much was obvious since he was a kid. Once he was of the age of nine, he’d achieved a diagnosis of what his parents believed to be the answer to his behaviour, an ADHD diagnosis. Of course, his condition didn’t come before his sister’s own (BPD), but at least it put ease to his parents’ worries and woes.

Though that wasn’t exactly the answer to all of his behaviour, his effeminate traits were ignored. Of course, pink is a girl’s colour, can’t you choose a backpack with cool trucks on it? Or maybe the dinosaur one, the Frozen backpack is for girls.

Veneer never understood why he couldn’t wear the things that Velvet could, he wanted to match with her! His parents always discouraged that kind of thing, he wasn’t free to choose the things he wanted. Until he got the ‘talk’ of sorts from his mother.

“Veneer, sweetie, come here, why won’t you?” His mother asked with a sweet tone. Her voice always reminded him of the warm cookies she’d bake on rare occasions with Grandma, the sweet honey she’d put in his tea when he wasn’t feeling well. At that time, Veneer hadn’t noticed his father taking Velvet away to go play with her, leaving just the mother and the son alone in the room.

“Momma?” Inquired the son, climbing up onto her lap.

The mother hummed, setting down the book she was reading previously, smiling at the boy before her. Her hands absent-mindedly fiddled with his hair, “Hm. Did daddy let you wear that shirt?”

“It’s my favourite… daddy said it was ok. I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it…”
“You’re a handsome young man, Venny, you shouldn’t be walking around wearing pink.”

The son stayed silent for a long while, trying to hide his face in the scarce affection from the mother, while the mother resumed her reading.

Finally, the son spoke up, “Why can’t I wear pink, momma?”

A sigh erupted from the woman, looking at her descendant with disdain, “It’s unbecoming of a young boy, son.”

“But why?”

The dentist looked at her young offspring, this time with a look that struck even more fear into her young’s heart. The son crawled off her lap as she stood, speaking without the sweetness in her tone. This time it had jagged edges, a bitter and burnt tone, “Veneer, walk with me.”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Now the son sat, the aforementioned burn being treated by the mother.

“I don’t know why you were so startled, Venny,” Said his mother.

“Momma!” Veneer joked, “You snuck up on me!”

“It’s my house, Venny. And shush, would you? Your father is still asleep.”

“Psh, Daddy sleeps like a rock. Vel’s the one we should be worried about.”

She chuckled, putting some ointment on Veneer’s hand, “If you’re quiet, you won’t wake the beast.”

Veneer looked down, biting his lip once more, “She’s no beast. She’s your daughter.”

“Even so, she’s straight from a fairy tale if you make her angry,” she said as she bandaged him up, “Stop that, will you? I’ve worked hard on those teeth of yours, just for my handsome little boy.”

“Ma!” He chuckled, wincing a bit in pain.

“There you go, all bandaged up! Want a lolly for your good behaviour?”

“I’m going to bed, momma.”

“I’m serious, you’ve been a good boy!”

“Goodnight,” he chuckled, “don’t let the Velvets bite.”

Another voice groaned through the thin walls, “I can hear you talking about me!”

The two family members giggled as they ran to their separate rooms, pretending as if they were asleep this whole time.

Chapter Text

“So, what brings you here today, Velvet?”

Said teen was sat on a trashed couch, cuts and stuffing coming out of the fabric. A pouty look was on her face, this place clearly different from anything the girl had ever been to. Dressed in an orange uniform, she clearly wasn’t planning on answering. 

The woman with the clipboard sighed, “You’ve decided to take the difficult route, I see.”

Still no response.

“Alright. Well, according to your file, you’re here in Juvie for troll torture, am I incorrect?”

“...”

“Velvet, I can’t help you if you don’t respond.”

“Good.”

The counsellor clearly had her work cut out for her.

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Shooting stars have a hard time coming back down to Earth. After what seemed like a lifetime, but at the same time not long enough, of having everything you’ve ever wanted, it’s hard to go back to peasant life. After serving a year in the dreadful prison that housed her, Velvet had a hard time adjusting back. 

Of course, she had a hard time adjusting to prison life, too. The food was less than edible, the other inmates with her weren’t anything like she expected, the dreaded therapy sessions — she didn’t need therapy! She was Velvet bleeding Valentine, the pop queen! —  And the worst part was that Veneer wasn’t there beside her. She couldn’t protect him, and he wasn’t there for her to lean in on the rare (not-so-rare) occasions that she needed him. It just wasn’t fair!

Okay, technically it wasn’t prison , it was Juvie , but it was practically the same thing! Did she really need a year of prison for two months of so-called ‘troll torture’? Okay, yeah, there was also the drugs, but everybody was doing drugs back at Rageous! 

If she was honest (which she never would be) she didn’t quite remember everything that happened back at the Mount. Everything was a blur, but Juvie sure as Hell wasn’t. Every agonising day was worse than the last, she was… grateful, in some capacity, to be back home. 

Even if home wasn’t exactly the best place to be. Her parents weren’t exactly perfect, don’t get her wrong, she loved her parents, but it was a little difficult with the way they acted around her. They tried to tune into her every move, do everything for her. Clearly, they never got the memo about how being a helicopter was bad, they did everything for her. She enjoyed it when she was younger, she didn’t have to lift a finger, but she was an adult now. During her time both at Rageous and at Juvie, she learned that she didn’t really know how to do anything. 

Doing her own chores while in Juvie wasn’t something she ever expected to do, especially when she was yelled at for not doing it right. It wasn’t her fault; she didn’t know you were supposed to put soap in the washer! Wasn’t the entire point of a washer to wash ? Plus, it wasn’t her fault that the orange jumpsuits were ugly, so she needed to stylize them. Orange doesn’t go with green, so what if she bejewelled it and tied it back with a hair tie, she had to make up for the horrid colour choice. 

She groaned into one of her pillows, trying not to think about her previous life, while simultaneously attempting to go back to sleep. It was far too early for any of this. In her many attempts to go back to sleep, she heard a knock on the door, followed by her father’s voice.

“Hey, sweetie! You awake? Veneer and your mother made breakfast; they made you a plate. If you want, I could bring it up here for you?”

She flipped up the sleeping mask she was wearing, having looked over at the man, “Uh… I’ll be down in just a sec.”

It was still weird to be back home. She used to love how her mom and dad would jump at the opportunity to do anything for her, she really did. She loved not doing work, but after needing to do everything herself, it was… odd. But not unappreciated. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, leave my room already, will you?” 

“Yes, of course.”

She stretched a bit, slipping out of bed and taking her hair out of the curlers she put them in the night before. She made sure to fluff it up and pondered whether or not to change out of her pyjamas. She eventually decided against it, why not relish in her ability to be lazy? She cracked her back and began to make her way downstairs. 

“Oh, hey, Vel!” Exclaimed Veneer as soon as he saw her, smiling, “I made chocolate chip pancakes.”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

To say Velvet was a tough nut to crack was an understatement. But no work was too big for Charly-Mae the counsellor… at least, that’s what she told herself. She was used to this kind of thing; a girls’ Juvenile Detention Center was no place for the weak. But she believed she found a breakthrough in her many sessions with the teen. 

“So… tell me a bit about your brother.”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Velvet spent the majority of the day alone in her room, just getting adjusted back. She unloaded some of her stuff, refilling her closet, and putting back in its spot the only stuffed animal she still owned. A worn-down teddy bear that Veneer got her once when they were kids. 

They were both given their own budget at the carnival, and Velvet spent her’s on carnival games (stupidly, she realised that now). She desperately wanted that giant, white stuffed bear. She’d even picked out a name for it, Aurora. She realised how stupid that was, but Veneer went out of his way to use his own budget to attempt to get that stuffed bear. He’d won a much smaller one and gave it to her. That stuffed bear meant everything to her. 

She managed to sneak it into her room in Juvie, and it was the only thing she had to remember Veneer by. It was one of the few things that got her through that time. 

“Hey, Vel? Can we talk?”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Charly-Mae sat in front of Velvet, who’d finally given up her guard after six months of these appointments. The two had finally set something up that worked for the both of them, and it was far from easy.

Bribery was the key, apparently. She had soon learned that teenagers are exceptionally easy to bribe with candy, and was pleasantly surprised at how susceptible Velvet was to this kind of method. All Velvet needed was to feel more comfortable with Charly, less threatened. 

“I’m not in the mood to talk about my feelings.”

But what she had an easy time talking about was her family, especially her brother.

“That’s alright, what do you want to talk about?”

“How difficult it is to get you to shut up,” She quipped.

“I’ll listen.”

“...”

Charly smiled, offering Velvet a piece of chocolate delight, “It’s okay. We don’t need to talk.”

Sometimes all you need to do is treat teenagers like people.

Chapter Text

That wasn’t him. 

Not really. You know, the person who did all those horrible things?

That wasn’t Veneer. 

At least, he liked to pretend it wasn’t.  

Veneer was a good person. He was a mama’s boy who loved making his mom and sister happy, and he would always try to do so. He was the person who was funny around people, he was a good person . 

The person who’d gotten Velvet that same stuffed animal she held on her lap that moment? That was Veneer.

The person who he was at Rageous? Not Veneer. 

The person who was in a cramped car with his family? Unclear.

“This will be good for you, honey!” His mother smiled at him, his father in the driver seat, glancing nervously between his two children. 

“Where are we going?” He nervously asked, fidgeting with the strings on his sleeveless hoodie.

“Sweetie-” His father began, before getting cut off.

“Vennie, baby, just trust me on this. Vellie, you too.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” Velvet responded, her voice flat, “Besides, Dad told me already.”

The father nervously glanced at his wife, who shot him a look, “Sorry, sweetie, I didn’t want Vel to get… y’know.”

Velvet shot a look nobody saw. 

The older woman sighed, “It was going to be a surprise when we get there, but since your father already spoiled it for you — Bal, really, it’s okay — I suppose I’ll tell you.”

“She’s taking the both of us to therapy.” Velvet interjected, her voice still lacking any emotion.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, Vel, you’re making it sound like we’re torturing the two of you!” She clicked her tongue in disapproval, a thing she did often, “Look, I made sure to get you two the same therapists you had in… you know!”

“Momma-”

“Queeria, hon, I think you’re laying too much on them.”

“Nonsense! If you don’t want to do this again, you can just say so, right, kids?”

“I don’t want to do this period, ma.” The elder of the proclaimed, looking up from her spot.

“Vellie, give them a chance .”

“Don’t call me Vellie.”

“Oh God .” The younger one groaned in the chaos.

Suddenly, the car came to a stop, “We’re here!”

Veneer took a deep breath, sighing in relief. His family was a lot . 

One step out of the car, and Velvet and their mother were having a silent fight in just glares. Veneer sighed, and his father glanced at him, mouthing an “I tried to talk her out of it” followed by a silent “I’m sorry.”

Veneer smiled, giving him a hug, before turning to his mother, and cutting off the silent argument, “So, supposedly both I and Vel’s therapists when we were in Juvie work in the same building?”

“I know, what luck!”

Velvet groaned into her hand, “I swear to God…”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

“Vel, can we talk?

The woman in question looked up from her bed, staring at her father, who stood in the door, waiting for her response. She scratched at her arm, straightening her posture. 

“What about?”

The man sat down next to her, a look on his face that seemed to be a mix of a lot of things. Guilt, relief, love, and all the emotions in between. He sighed, holding his hand out, a silent ask to hold her hand.

He smiled as she took his hand, squeezing it, “I’m so proud of you.”

She didn’t look at him, sighing, “There’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Of course there is,” He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “You’re my baby girl. You make me proud every day just by existing, and you’re finally… here. I missed you every day, Princess.”

“Daddy, I’m not a kid anymore, you don’t need to pretend like you’re proud of me for the horrible things I did.”

“Velvet, look at me,” reluctant obedience from the daughter, “You may not think there’s anything to be proud of, but I see a strong and confident young girl. Don’t laugh, don’t!” He chuckled, squeezing her hand tighter, “You didn’t go through Juvie, you survived it. And I’m so glad you did.” 

Velvet chuckled, smiling at him, “You didn’t come in here just to tell me how proud of me you are, did you?”

“No, no, it’s just… your mother.” 

“Oh.” She sighed, pulling her hand away, “What did she do now?”

“She came up with the radical idea of sending you and your brother to therapy.”

“Come again?”

He sighed, “She wants so badly to fix you two. She made sure to get you two the therapists you had before.”

“Of course she did.”

He smiled at her, reaching to tuck a hair behind her ear, before moving his hand back.

No touching, right. Velvet didn’t like that.

“I love you.”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Veneer sighed, fidgeting with the strings on his lavender sleeveless hoodie, avoiding any kind of eye contact with the man he was supposed to be conversing with. 

The truth was, Veneer didn’t like going to therapy. He’d been with this same therapist for a year, and he hadn’t made any progress. The man was lovely, of course, but he couldn’t really find himself talking about the real underlying issues.

He hadn’t made any progress with his anxiety (if he heard one more person telling him to just ‘breathe’ he might lose it); they hadn’t even touched on his self-image, at least not beyond a simple ‘you’re perfect just the way you are!’ It was annoying honestly; and don’t get him started on the grounding methods. They never worked! It genuinely sucked. 

However, he put on a fake smile, “Hey, Ceru!” 

Chapter Text

Happiness is only temporary. 

You can be happy around the people you trust, and then the second you say something wrong, there’s a metaphorical knife to your throat in half a second. 

Suddenly, all the happiness turns to hostility, and you’re only concerned with making it out alive. 

It only makes you all the more cautious for next time. 

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Veneer sat before a man, in an egregious orange jumpsuit that made him want to vomit at the sight of it. He didn’t think this shade of orange was salvageable, orange and green did  not go together. He wondered how Velvet was doing.

“Veneer, isn’t it?” The man before him asked. 

The man was very blue . His skin was turquoise with lighter blue patches, whereas his hair was dark blue, and his eyes were annoyingly pink. He was dressed in a white button-up down to his forearms and dress pants that Veneer was jealous over (not that the outfit looked good per-say, but he’d kill for anything but this annoying jumpsuit. The man’s blue hair was coily and stood up around his head, the clear signs of an afro. In Veneer’s opinion, the afro was way more Bob Ross-esque than anything else. 

He didn’t even notice the man start talking, until he stared at Veneer like he was expecting an answer.

He tensed up, and asked his favourite age-old question: What would Velvet do?

“What?” He snapped, desperate to protect himself like Velvet taught. 

“I asked you a question.” 

“Oh, my apologies, I couldn’t hear you over the raging bitchass-ery.” 

“...Noted.” 

Veneer rolled his eyes, looking at his nails. They were overgrown, but a nail file was nowhere in sight. 

“I suppose I should introduce myself!” The man tried to change the subject.

“I don’t really care.” 

“My name is Ceru. Well, Cerulean, but everybody just calls me Ceru!”

“Did I ask?”

Ceru sighed, looking at his clipboard, “This is going to be rough…”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Now, the same Veneer was sat, no longer in the orange jumpsuit, but not exactly in something that fit him. His lilac sleeveless hoodie was definitely better, but it wasn’t really him.  

“It’s good to see you, Veneer,” Ceru smiled, his glasses resting on his nose, “Even better without an orange jumpsuit, yeah?”

He chuckled nervously, “Uh, yeah.” 

“And in a better room, too. On a couch that isn’t…”

“Falling apart, yeah. I had to sleep on beds like that.”

“I pity you.”

“Indeed.” He sighed, picking at his lip again. 

Ceru paused, and set his clipboard down, “How’s your anxiety been since getting released?”

He tensed up, “It’s, uh… been going.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve, y’know… I don’t know. It’s nice to see M-” He cut himself off, rephrasing, “I’ve enjoyed seeing my parents.”

“You’re fumbling over your words again.”

Because it’s hard to speak around you.

He took a breath, trying to retain his anger. He wasn’t the kind of person to get angry, but there were certain people he wanted to scream at. He sighed, “It’s a little hard to phrase things.”

“Cheers to that!” 

But do you really relate if you continuously rush me?

Sometimes Ceru just infuriated him. He picked at his nails, “I dunno, it’s taking some getting used to. There’s a lot of things running through my head,” oh no, he’s rambling again, “Momma’s been nice, but it’s difficult around her. I love her, but she doesn’t get me, y’know? Plus Velvet’s seemed off, and I want to talk to her, but we haven’t really interacted outside of the time I hugged her when we first saw each other. Has she really changed that much? It’s been so long since I’ve seen her, does she not love me as much as she used to? She’s my sister! Plus, Daddy’s constantly fussing over me and her, but obviously he’s fussing over her, she needs more fussing over than I do. Plus, I got this burn last night, and it hurts so bad , I swear to God-” He looked back at Ceru, realising he said too much.

Damnit, he always did this. 

“So your anxiety has been acting up.” 

“Maybe…”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Tap Tap. 

Tap. Pause. Tap again. 

Tap. Click. Pause. Quiet squish. 

“Velvet?”

Drag . Nails on a chalkboard to Velvet’s ears.

“...Hm?”

“Your nails are digging into my table.”

Did that sound come from Velvet?

“Oh.”

She looked down. So, it did. Apparently, her nails dragged through the wood. Pesky splinters got under them.

Two pairs of blue eyes look at each other, Charly’s sympathetic ones staring at the other, distant oceans. Oceans that looked too stormy and foggy to hold emotions, lost to depths and drowned by sirens. 

“How have things been going at home?” Not great from what Charly can infer. 

“Good.” 

Code for ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She takes the hint. 

“That’s good. And that stuffed animal you brought?” 

Silence. Another code for ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Hint once again received. 

“I see.” Charly’s pink hand fiddled with the scarf around her h ead — a light yellow that complimented her skin well, Velvet could recognize this — something the patient could never remember the name of. She cleared her throat, straightening her back with a smile, “Would you like to play a game?” 

“...Excuse me?”

“A game. I get that the new space is a lot, so I figured we’d do something familiar.”

“It’s not a lot.”

“Velvet, look at me. We’ve known each other for a year.”

“...”

Charly sighed, “Okay. Here,” She grabbed something from her drawer, giving it to Velvet.

“What is this?”

“A fidget.”

“It’s a marble in a bag.”

Charly sighed, looking at Velvet, “Please, let’s not go back in our relationship. I won’t push you to talk about anything, but I know something happened.”

“...”

Ah, the telltale silence that she knows so well. She took a deep breath, and smiled at her, “How about this. What if you ask me questions?” 

Velvet was thrown off by that statement, “Doesn’t that defeat the point of this whole thing?”

“Well, how can I expect you to be open if I’m not open myself? Go on, ask.”

Velvet was thrown off a little bit, and looked down at the marble in the bag. “What are your parents like?”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Two is such a perfect number. Two is just so… perfect. Things should always be perfect; things should stay two. 

Two parents, two children, two therapists. 

Two was always the perfect thing to Queeria. 

“Love?”

“Hm?” Responded the woman, looking at her husband. He looked a little nervous, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. He pushed his glasses up, clearing his throat.

“Your pants, dearest.”  

Queeria looked down, realising she’d spilled coffee on her jeans. Her eyes widened, and she quickly stood up, using a napkin to attempt to pat it off. She clicked her tongue when it wouldn’t come off, and she sighed. 

“Here, let me help.” Balsamic grabbed his napkin and dumped it in the water cup he had, frantically trying to get the stain off.

Queeria sighed, having a distant look in her blue eyes, similar to one her daughter would get often, “Perhaps coffee wasn’t the best idea.”

“Maybe…” Balsamic looked up, worried. “You alright? You’ve seemed off since we dropped off the kids.” 

She sighed, smiling at him as she kissed his forehead, “I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve not really met their therapists, and I know I’m being paranoid, but it’s not like we know them.” 

He nodded, looking back down at his wife’s leg, groaning, “I can’t get the stain off.” 

Queeria chuckled, grabbing Balsamic’s hand, “It’s fine, sweetie. They should be out soon, let’s get going, yeah?”

He smiled at her, a part of him relieved, “Of course, dearest.”

♫~✮✧✮~♫

“Veneer, it’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe!” 

It’s not okay, it’s never okay, why can’t he just breathe!?

Panicked breaths escape a mouth gasping for air, nails claw against the scalp of a man who’s trying to tear out his hair. Tears escape eyes that latch onto anything, panicked skies corrupted by rain shrouding them and making everything foggy, the man looking through them confused as to why there’s grey coating everything in his sight, why everything is blurry.

Why c an’t he just calm down ?

“Veneer-” He reached out to touch. He shouldn’t have done that.

“You did not just touch me! Get your grimy ass hands off! ” 

Veneer regrets the shove he gave Cerulean, taking a step back, his blue eyes terrified at his own actions. He grabbed at his chest, terrified at his own actions. More tears streamed down his face; Cerulean still concerned at the sudden switch to hostility. He blinked, the shove didn’t hurt that much, he was just… shocked. 

Why is he like this, what happened, why can’t he stop?

Veneer tried to calm himself down, erupting in a fit of ‘I’m sorry’s. 

…What did the books say to do in these kinds of situations?

Chapter Text

Eventually tears dry. It takes a long time, but eventually, they do. After kicking and screaming, after it seems like the tears won’t stop falling, eventually, they dry up. At least they do on a surface level, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like they’re still there.

Then there’s the shame and regret. This horrible, sinking feeling, a voice telling you that you’re just being dramatic. You couldn’t help it, and now you just want to shrivel up and disappear.

That’s normal, right? 

Maybe not. Either way, that didn’t make the feelings go away. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, but did Cerulean really need to bring that up? 

He didn’t really like talking about his childhood, he knew that, but having a whole breakdown over it was a little overkill, was it not? 

And now the car was so quiet. Momma and Daddy wouldn’t say a word, and Velvet was eerily silent. Why was she quiet? It was scary when she was quiet. It was scary when Daddy was quiet, too. It was quiet the whole ride. 

It felt like hours of silence, Velvet looking out the window, Momma staring at the road, and Daddy staring at Momma. Somehow twenty minutes turned into what felt like two hours, and those two hours eventually went by. Thank God . 

Veneer opened the door as quickly as he could, rushing into his bedroom. He flopped onto his bed, groaning loudly. He banged his fists against his mattress, screaming into his pillows like some teenage girl ranting about her ex-boyfriend. He was forever grateful for the plush pillows he insisted on getting years ago. 

Beep. Beep.  

He didn’t have the energy to call right now. Who on Earth would be calling him right now anyway? 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

“Jesus, fine…” Veneer groaned as he looked at his phone. 

Kid Ritz . 

He quickly sat up, clearing his throat. How did he look? Wait, this was a phone call, how he looked didn’t matter. Just don’t answer the phone weird, be normal. 

“Hey, Ritzy!” 

Mission failed. 

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Velvet would be lying if she said she didn’t think Veneer was being a tad dramatic. Okay, that wasn’t exactly fair, she didn’t really know what happened. But still, was it really that big of a deal? Maybe she was being too harsh. She didn’t like how quickly she’d judge a person’s actions, it’s not exactly their fault.

Usually she’s not this pissy, let alone to Veneer. She’d barely even talked to Veneer, it had been a whole year since they’d seen each other. Has he changed that much? Has she changed that much? She could barely tell how much she’d changed, or if she even had. 

No, stop thinking about that. She didn’t like thinking like that. She just needed to get out, an old-fashioned night at the club. Or just hanging out with a friend. 

Well… she didn’t really have many of those anymore. She cut off a lot of them during her time at Rageous, and even more of them cut her off once Veneer confessed. The only person she really had was Veneer, and who wanted to get drunk at a club with their twin brother? That sounded like the lamest nighy ever. She could go alone, but then she’d need to call an uber, and who knows what could happen. 

Why was not being famous so hard ? At least everybody back in Juvie knew who she was. But nobody really knew her name here. This town was too small for her. If they did know her, it was either “Oh darlin’, I remember you back when you were this high! You’ve gotten so big!” or “Oh, you’re the girl who got exposed for troll torture and drug usage.” You’d think that wouldn’t be a big deal! She was still a star… even if she might have fallen. Fallen stars still deserve some amount of respect!

God, she really needed to get out of her room. Maybe she could just ask Veneer to go to lunch with her or something, it’d get her out and about. Maybe they could talk and catch up–

Knock knock .

Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Vel!” 

“What?” It came out a little harsher than she meant it to. 

He looked a little nervous, but he sat down next to her, fiddling with his nails. He cleared his throat, “I just got a call from Ritz.”

“Who?” 

“My friend back in Rageous. Y’know, the interviewer guy.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

He sighed, “Either way, Ritz called me and asked if I wanted to go back to Rageous to hang out. He said it was a celebration for us getting out of jail. Isn’t that nice?”

“Get to the point.” Why was everything coming out so much harsher than she meant it to be?

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with.” 

Huh. Well, that was convenient. “Rageous? That’s, like, an hour away.”

“Only. Look, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I’m just offering.” He shrugged, getting up to leave.

“Wait. I want to go.”

Veneer’s face lit up, and he beamed, “You do?” 

Some things never change. “I do.”  

“Well, get ready!” He exclaimed, smiling at her, “Tell me when you’re done.” 

♫~✮✧✮~♫

Was her dress too short? Maybe she should’ve chosen something less revealing. It was too late now apparently. Maybe she should tell Veneer that she changed her mind, she wanted to go back. 

Did she really need this? Dressing in her shortest black dress? Okay, her outfit was cute, with translucent tights and boots, a choker, cute earrings… but that’s beside the point; she knew how good she looked. She just didn’t really trust this Ritz guy. 

“Stop your worrying, hon, it’s not that bad. We both need to get out anyway.”

“I’m not worrying.”

“But you are. You have it written all over your face that you’re nervous.”

“Yeah, yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Going out for lunch, hanging out at his house, and then going to a club. According to Ritz.” 

“Do we really need that long of a day?” 

“We need food, and we need stress relief.”

Velvet bit her lip, “Mhm.”

She hadn’t gone clubbing in so long. A club back at home is much different than a club in Rageous. In Rageous people pop pills like candy, everybody takes some kind of drug. That’s as long as you don’t get caught. Back home there’s more drinking, less flashing lights, and more dancing. 

“And would you look at that, we’re here.” 

“This is Panera Bread.” 

“I don’t know, Ritz said to meet up here.” 

Velvet sighed, getting out of her car, “You sure this is the right location?”

“Positive.” 

The pair walked into the cafe, which unlike a lot of Rageous, wasn’t very busy. Restaurants weren’t common, there was more junky fast food as compared to actual places you can sit down. Drive Thrus thrived. 

“Ven! Over here!” 

That must be Ritz. 

Veneer smiled, holding Velvet’s hand as he practically bounced over to the table the voice came from. Sat were two Rageons as opposed to the one Velvet expected.

One purple-skinned with multi-coloured hair, yellow and blue. His clothes were baggy as were most in Rageous. The Rageons usually wore baggy clothes during the day and far more revealing clothes at night. His purple eyes looked a little tired and droopy, and there were freckles on his face. He wore a beanie that covered his head, and to be honest, Velvet didn’t care all too much about him. 

But the second Rageon was a girl a little shorter than Ritz, purple skin like him, and darker purple hair. Her eyes were far from tired and droopy, they were wide and lively. They seemed to be staring directly at Velvet. 

Ritz smiled at the two of them, gesturing to the bench across from them, “I figured since you were bringing your sister, I’d also bring somebody. This is my cousin, Orchid.”

Velvet’s eyebrows furrowed as she examined the girl. 

Well hot damn, it wasn’t every day you’d see a Rageon more attractive than Velvet.