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'And the next award is… biggest boogey kill!’ Jimmy declares, onstage in one of Impulse’s skyscrapers, not long into the Past Life after-party. ‘Which also killed me, so thank you for that… Mr GoodTimesWithScar!’
‘Scar you’re up!’ I catch Bdubs hiss after our clapping dies out into confused silence.
‘Hmm? Oh- shoot- woohoo! Awards! Prizes! Yeah!’ Scar, realising, finally dashes over. Jimmy hands him the trophy with a joke Scar doesn't catch. Scar responds with an overly enthusiastic ‘Thank you Jimmy!’, before turning to leave the stage.
‘Scar- mate- you need to read the next…?’
‘Mmm? What?’
Scar turns back, spotting the scroll in Jimmy’s hand.
And his facade vanishes.
The fake confidence and excitement snaps to quiet, fidgety discomfort as he takes the scroll. I frown, leaning closer to Gem.
‘Dude- is he alright?’
‘Oh, he’s drunk,’ Gem explains. ‘Or high. Or maybe upset about dying in Scott's trap. Grian says he’s always like this, so I wouldn’t worry.’
‘Oh.’ Now even more uncertain, I turn back to Scar, fiddling with his scroll, intentionally designed like a Secret Life task, with the next 'Oh-Scar' catagory. ‘Right.’
‘I’m sorry, I can't do this…’ Scar mutters, passing it back to Jimmy before hurrying away.
‘Well- uh- our next category is best outfit.’ Jimmy, opening it himself, reads. ‘So… Pearlescentmoon… WHERE ARE YOUUU??’
‘AND I’M SO SORRY!’ Everyone shouts back, as Pearl hides her head in her hands. I don't engage, just slipping away to find Scar, by the bar, turned away, mixing himself a drink.
‘Scar, are you ok?’
A surprised scream. Scar’s attention snaps to me, slipping a bottle behind his back. His shimmering blue drink is still in hand.
‘I’m fine, everything’s fine, lovely party, this! I do love a good celebration of the- the Life Series, and everything that happened, and all the deaths, and the kills- and and the tasks.’
He takes a long drink, downing over half his glass in a single go, before dashing into the crowd again. But I’ve been to enough parties this season; I recognise the color of Vex magic in his drink.
I type a precautionary dm to Cub, and pray I won't have to send it.
Once the final prizes are given out, it’s time for party games, all of which are themed around a different Life Series, and most of which Scar barely engages with. I keep an eye on him, noting the growing agitation and thinly veiled aggression through the Quiz-bot quiz, What’s the time, Mr Watcher, pass the reputation parcel, and now Secret Task charades.
‘Oooh boy… this is a recipe for disaster…’ Martyn jokes next to me, as Scar wanders up for his turn. I don't reply, still staring on, concerned, as he reads his task. And freezes. Rereads, again and again, before making a vague gesture of pushing something, then waving his arms around.
‘Act like Grian for the episode!’ Martyn shouts.
‘Place- buttons everywhere without anyone noticing?’
‘Lie about your task- say All Star lyrics only- the bloody- boogeyman-- the boogey one- uh- um-’ Joel fires off guess after guess as Scar just starts repeating his action, over and over, without any more details, or clarity.
‘Blow up the Secret Keeper! Blow up Grian! Blow up - uh- Mumbo, the mound, someone’s base? Everyone’s base?! Blow up the sun?! Place a button and rig it that the sun explodificates when you press it?!’
Scar’s keeps repeating.
‘Do another action, Scar!’ Scott suggests.
Scar does, but it’s no clearer with him running around swinging his arms wildly, so he just returns to the first action, over and over and over and over. We’re left clueless, guessing every task we remember, until, with a defeated laugh, Scar just sinks to the ground.
‘Act sad- look miserable- put on a play and then give up halfway through? Wait- Grian had a singing one! Is it the singing one?!’
‘NO!’ Scar shouts, before breaking down crying. Cleo hurries to comfort him.
‘Ok… ok, I think we should move on to someone else…’ They mutter, grabbing the task from the ground.
‘Well- what was it?’ Jimmy, still curious, asks.
‘Win Secret Life,’ Scar mumbles.
‘What?! Scar, that’s easy!’ Gem insists. ‘How couldn't you act out that one?!’
‘He’s the only one who actually completed that one as well- he’s literally the winner, and he can't act it out-’ Mumbo laughs. ‘Scar, buddy- what was all that?!’
I catch Bdubs’s worried expression, responding with my own grimace. Before turning back, just as Scar runs from the room, slamming the door behind.
‘Hey- Top, tell the others I’ll be right back,’ I mutter. Tango glances over.
‘Huh? What? Why? Where are you-’
‘I’ll be right back.’ I repeat, before slipping after.
‘Scar?’ I call, closing the door of the strange, undecorated, backroom Scar entered. No reply, so I keep walking, hoping Scar is here, hoping I haven't missed him, hoping he’s actually in here, and he hasn't broken through a wall or found another door out and fled halfway across the server.
But then I catch it:
Sobbing.
I hurry in its direction and, sure enough, Scar’s there, hiding behind a pile of chests, head on his knees, just crying his heart out. My range of responses falters to nothing, I’m left standing there, until eventually knocking on the top chest.
‘Hey, Sir Scar- are you ok? Should I call Cub?’
Scar looks up, red faced, red eyed and, by his expression, red handed.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine, just- y’know, a good cry is a really healthy coping mechanism, especially after a really dramatic or traumatic…’
‘Traumatic?! Scar, what happened?’
‘Oh- shoot- I- I must’ve dyslexiaed – what’s the word I’m looking for?’ Scar lies hastily. I frown, unconvinced. He shuffles away. ‘Skizz, please, I’m fine. Just- go back to your games, and food, I’m happy here.’
‘You’re clearly not enjoying yourself, man. We both know you’d rather go home. So-'
‘Impulse said he had cake especially for me. I didn't want to let him down, but Cubby’s not here to distract me from everything because it’s ‘Lifers only’, so I’m hiding instead.’
‘Dude- Scar…’
‘What?’
‘That’s- don't make yourself miserable, just because Dippledop made a cake!’
‘It’s supposed to be a really good cake, though.’ Scar mutters. ‘Just for me.’
‘Oh Scar- look, I’ll tell Dippledop to present it next,’ I compromise, ‘So you don't feel obligated to stay for hours.’
‘Skizz- no, no… you don't have to…’
You whispered to impulseSV: Can we do cake straight after this game? Scar’s thinking of heading off soon.
impulseSV whispered to you: no problem! Heading off to get it now.
‘He’s getting the cake.’
‘Oh.’ Scar stands, as much as he can, crashes into half the chests getting past me, and stumbles in an obnoxiously wobbly line out the room. The others are partway through some crazy Pictionary and Guess the Build hybrid of Life Series moments, but Bdubs’s focus is on Scar, at the bar again, mixing another vex magic cocktail for himself. And then another, and another, downing each dangerously fast. I catch the flicker of vex wings behind him, the blue up his arms. Part of me wants to run over and get him to stop. But there’s no good moment before-
‘Cake time!’ Impulse calls, wheeling in a huge 7 tiered cake. Almost everyone gathers around as Impulse starts explaining how the top layer represents Third Life. Everyone except Bdubs.
‘Have you messaged Cub?’ Bdubs asks me instead. ‘About Scar?’
‘Scar said he was just holding out for Dippledop’s cake. I’m just keeping an eye on him until it’s done.’
‘Skizz, we need to do more than ‘keep an eye on him’, he’s clearly distressed about something,’ Bdubs argues. ‘We need to call Cub over.’
‘Yeah, but-’
‘But nothing, Skizz! Scar gets aggressive when drunk, like- really aggressive-’
‘Bdubs, we’re not disturbing Rubba-dub Cub, and sending Scar home because we can't be bothered to look after him.’
‘And we’re not keeping Scar here, miserable and dangerous, to ruin everyone else’s evening!’
‘Scar! You’re up, buddy!’ Impulse calls. We fall silent. Me and Bdubs exchange a glance, joining the others as Scar accepts a slice of cake from the beaming Impulse.
‘It has a secret ingredient,’ Impulse can't help but add as Scar digs in. ‘See if you can guess it!’
And then Scar retches.
‘Scar? Buddy? Do you- do you know the secret ingredient?’ asks Impulse, confidence waning. Scar barely manages to swallow.
‘Sunflower seeds,’
‘That’s- wow man, how did you guess that?! I found a recipe that uses them instead of flour and…’ Impulse peters off at Scar’s expression. ‘What’s- wrong? Is it the cake?’
‘Waited all night.’ Scar mutters. ‘And it’s fucked- the fucking sunfl-’
Scar retches again, a hand over his mouth, before sprinting away. He barely reaches the pot in the corner, before vomiting.
‘That- that bad, huh?’ Impulse laughs, hurt. ‘Dang it, I put the most effort in that one as well…’
‘Hey, it’s alright.’ I mutter, stepping closer. He keeps watching Scar. ‘Dippledop, Scar’s just having a bad night, don't take it personally.’
‘Sure,’ Impulse mutters, leaving the room. Bdubs is signaling to do something, so, as Ren runs to comfort Impulse, I slip away to check on Scar again. He’s still hunched by the pot, bottle in hand, staring at the wall.
‘Scar?’
‘I fuckedup everything,’ he mumbles, words slurring.
‘No you didn't.’
‘I did, I fucked up-’ A pause. ‘Fucked up everything…’ Another long drink of the vex magic, another bottle drained. ‘I’m useless.’
‘No, no you’re not, you’re just-’
‘Scar, what the crap was that about?!’ Tango says, running over. ‘Impy is sobbing in the back, I had to serve the rest of the cakes while Ren comforted him-’
‘Scar’s just having a bad night.’
‘Skizz- he’s being a jerk, like- he does this every single time! He gets high on vex magic, acts mopey and needy, and ruins everyone else’s night with his stupid jerk-faceness.’
‘Top, c’mon man, that’s not fair.’
‘Isn’t it?!’
‘No, it’s not! Scar’s- something happened, I don't know what, but something happened to him at some point, and he was only staying to try Dippledop's cake. Of course he’s upset when he doesn't like it.’
‘If Scar’s having a bad night, then he should fuck off back to his base, instead of fucking up our night too.’
‘Top!’
‘I’m comforting Impy. See you around.’
He storms off. I turn back to the pot.
But Scar’s gone.
‘Scar?’ I call, before spotting him, by the exit, about to leave. ‘Scar! Wait up- what are you doing, man?’
‘Fucking off. Like Tango said.’ He’s about to cry, incredibly drunk, swaying on his feet. I barely trust him to get out of Impulse’s city, let alone to his zoo.
‘Alone?’
‘Already fuckup-ed enough.’
‘You’re not even calling Cub?’
‘No more party… no more-’ His balance fails. I rush in to assist, arm around his back, before he falls.
‘Woah- woah- ok- I’m walking you home… c’mon, let’s take this slow, ok?’ I message Bdubs my plan quickly, before leaving, Scar still clinging to me.
It’s a long walk, an incredibly long walk, made only longer by how unfocused and slow Scar’s getting. I veer away from his zoo quickly; him alone with dangerous mobs is a no-go, and instead am left figuring out how to navigate this area of the server by foot, at night, without hurting or endangering Scar. He’s too drunk to protest, or question, or even talk. Each step is a shuffle, feet dragging. I think he’s asleep half the time, only waking for the steep 15 minute trek up Tango’s waterfall, or at my yells and fruitless attempts to fight off far too many creaking and zombies. Overall, it’s over an hour later we reach Cub’s doorstep. I knock, praying he’s in.
‘Cub?’ I call. ‘Rubbadub?’
‘Uh- One moment?’ comes a tired reply. A few seconds later, Cub appears, realises Scar’s condition, and hurries over.
‘He had too much to drink, I- figured it’d be better to bring him to you?’
‘Oh- shoot- yeah, yeah… Come in, come in, both of you… Scar- Dude- you’re dead on your feet…’
‘Cubby…’ Scar mumbles back, burying his head in Cub’s shoulder. ‘Feel ill…’
‘I know… I know… you can sleep it off here, man. Just sleep it off…’
I remain downstairs, only hearing the vague murmur as Cub handles Scar’s condition far better than anyone else did. Until, after a final whispered ‘goodnight, Scar’, Cub appears again.
‘Is- he alright?’
‘Yeah, yeah… he’s just worn himself out, poor guy… would you like anything to drink, Skizz?’
‘No, no, I’ll be heading off in a minute.’
‘Seriously, stay the night, you look exhausted too. And came all this way… I can do cocoa? Or tea, coffee?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, yeah. I insist, make yourself at home. Besides, it gets kinda really deadly out there, I wouldn't want you hurting yourself.’
‘Then… I’ll have hot cocoa, if that’s no trouble?’
‘Of course not, man.’
Cub heads out again, and I wait until he returns with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa.
‘Man- that looks delicious… thank you, so much.’
‘Cheers, man.’
I take a sip, watching as Cub slips a few crystals of the same vex magic Scar got completely intoxicated by into his drink. Before noticing.
‘Oh- It’s just a sweetener,’ Cub explains.
‘You’re- I don't know why I’m surprised, but how are you so chill about this?’
A small, tired, laugh.
‘I mean, we’ve been vex for almost 10 years now, and both ended up far higher than Scar is today…’
‘Ah.’
‘Thank you, by the way, Skizz. For bringing Scar here, instead of just abandoning him, and assuming he’ll be alright. Or getting annoyed. I know Scar can be high maintenance sometimes.’
‘No problem, man. Everyone has bad days.’
‘Mmm…’ Cub takes a long sip of cocoa. ‘It was for the Life Series… right? The party?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Past Life.’
‘Yeah, Scar’s never enjoyed those parties… it’s a lot of negative triggers.’
Again, some allusion I don't get towards some hidden Scar trauma with the Life Series.
‘He- kinda freaked out after eating some of the cake Dippledop made. Something about sunflower seeds?’ I say, hoping for further clues.
‘Oh… yeah, that’s probably Secret Life trauma.’
‘Secret Life trauma?’ My heart stops. ‘So something did happen? During Secret Life?’
‘It’s a long story, and Scar’s to tell, but, yes. Something awful happened after Scar won. He’s only told a few hermits… me, X, Joe and Cleo…’
‘Shit. Is he ok now?’
‘Readjusting slowly,’ Cub says, the concern still clear in his voice. ‘But mostly alright.’
‘Mostly?’
‘I can't explain without permission, but Scar’ll be fine,’ Cub assures. ‘He’s got me looking out for him, and some experience handling trauma from the Vex…’
‘Notch…’ I reply, still thinking, as we finish our cocoa in silence. Only afterwards does Cub stand, speaking again.
‘Unless you want to return to the party… there’s a spare bed upstairs?’ He offers, taking my empty mug.
‘Honestly that would be incredible, Rubbadub. Thanks.’
‘It’s right at the back of the storage… I’ll be up too once I’ve cleaned these. Hope you sleep well.’
‘Yeah- you too. Goodnight.’
And I head upstairs to sleep.
There’s a smell of something cooking when I wake up. My head pounds, legs achy as I curl up further beneath my blanket, blocking out the sun next to me. Wondering, for a moment, where I am, and how I got here. Before memories of the party properly sink in. This is Cub’s base. I stayed the night in Rubbadub-Cub’s base.
The idea of getting out of Cub’s hair, the fear of disturbing what must be his meticulous morning schedule, finally gets me on my feet, and downstairs. Where, to my surprise, I find Cub still in a dressing gown, perched on the side half asleep, as Scar brings through a huge plate of pancakes.
‘Oh, hey guys.’
‘Skizzy! Just in time! You like pancakes, right?’ Scar beams, incredibly bright considering his state last night. ‘Just whipped up a batch for us.’
‘Scar, there’s no need, I don't want to be a bother, honestly.’
‘What?! Skizz, you’re not a bother! Come on, take a seat, take a seat… sit on one of Cub’s many trophies if you want, the frogs make excellent stools, enjoy some Scar-pancakes with us!’
I can't refuse, sitting at the side near Cub. Scar hands me a plate, fork, and about half the giant pancake stack.
‘There’s syrups, honey, and sauces coming in a minute. And- sorry in advance, some of the pancakes may be a little under or over… Cub’s got a weird setup.’
‘Scar, man, excuse me asking, but how are you so- awake?’
‘Vexes don't get hangovers. True fact.’
‘Ehh... some vexes don't,’ Cub corrects, like this is a recurring argument. ‘When they’re too stubborn and insistent on making pancakes.’
‘Because I’ve caused you so much effort, and worry, and stress by being a grumpy-butt. I wanna thank you for being good friends. So I made pancakes.’
‘That’s incredibly kind of you, Scar,’ I say, before frowning as Scar passes Cub the rest of the stack, leaving none for himself. ‘Wait, aren’t you having some too?’
‘Oh, of course not, it’s not a special thank you if I benefit as well!’
‘Even if I feel sorry for you? After your bad time last night? And want to make you feel happy?’
‘Let him have it, Skizz. Just let him have it,’ Cub insists with the warm chuckle of someone very well-versed in Scar’s antics.
‘Fine. Thank you, Scar. For the very generous pancakes.’
I grab the maple syrup the moment Scar brings it through, dousing the pancakes in them before taking a large bite.
‘Oh my gosh-’ I mumble, mouth still full. ‘Dude-’
‘What? Is there something wrong? Shoot- they’re awful aren't they?’
‘What?!’ I swallow. ‘Scar- these are so good! They’re incredible, man!’
‘Oh- really? Honestly, they’re nothing special. And most are overdone and-’
‘Scar, don't tell Tango, but these are some of the best pancakes I’ve ever had. Like- ever, dude. If these are the ‘nothing special’ pancakes, I need to try them perfect.’
‘Dude, Skizz… I have genuinely considered getting Scar blackout drunk myself after having some of those pancakes,’ Cub says, with full dead-pan seriousness. ‘Genuinely considered it.’
‘Oh my gosh… dude…’ I laugh, before continuing eating the pancakes, only pausing to grab more sauces. Across the room, Cub eventually gets Scar to at least try the pancakes, feeding him straight off the fork in his hand. I have to smile at how adorable the two of them are, next to each other, chatting with ease. And eventually get the nerves to speak.
‘Sorry if this is rather forward but- I’ve kinda been wondering for a while… are you, like- a thing? Y’know- are you- uh- dating? Partners?’
‘Oh-’ Scar gives an awkward laugh. The vex blue of Cub’s ears creeps up his face in mild embarrassment. ‘Not in that way, but sort of.’
‘We’re partners in crime,’ Cub explains, as if it clarifies anything.
‘Right…’
‘Best friends through chaos and cuddles,’ Scar rests his head against Cub’s, who gives a little loving smile back. ‘Because nothing beats Cub-cuddles,’ Scar adds. ‘Snuggled up with blankets, and cats, and cake, after a long day of pranking, and looking after each other, and stargazing…’
‘It’s nothing crazy. Or- like that.'
I laugh, a little, before returning to the incredible pancakes. Cub keeps sharing his with Scar. Eventually, we finish. The question about what happened to Scar after Secret Life persists, unasked. I’d never ask. Not that.
‘Wow- well, Scar, thank you again, that was absolutely incredible,’ I say, standing. 'But I'd best be off.'
‘Oh, it’s nothing…. I’m sorry again for last night,’ Scar replies.
‘No, no. It’s alright, dude. It’s not your fault at all if you feel stressed, or worried, considering- well- what you went through.’
Scar stiffens, a glance at Cub.
‘All Cub said was that something happened after Secret Life. I don't know any specifics,’ I add quickly. It’s enough for Scar to relax, a little.
‘Oh. Yeah.’ Scar mutters. ‘ ‘Something happened’... that’s one way to put it…’
I don't press. But curiosity and concern still emanates. A glance at me, and Scar lets out a deep breath.
‘I was trapped in the Secret Life world alone after I won,’ Scar explains, as lightly as he can. ‘Next to the Secret Keeper. Pressing succeed. Getting the same task again, and again, just- ‘Win Secret Life’, ‘Win Secret Life’, ‘Win Secret Life’- even though I did win, and the voices were just being- meanie jerk butts.’
‘Holy- all alone?! How long?’
‘Last tally was 5513 days.’
‘15 years,’ Cub adds, staring at the ground. ‘Because they fucked up time just to screw with Scar even more.’
‘Fuck, dude- Scar, man, I can't believe them-’
‘It’s fine. Just- don’t mention it to the other hermits.’
‘Yeah, yeah, of course not, of course. Just- dude- 15 years?! Alone.’
‘It’s fine. I’m used to it by now. And the sunflower fields are nice. Sometimes. And it’s better now people know. Despite how the voices reacted. I can sorta predict when it’ll be, like- it was pretty soon after Wild Life, so- another trip back tonight is likely. Might just stay here at Cubby’s to save the trip.’ Scar gives a laugh. Cub closes his eyes. My mind snaps on what he just admitted.
‘You’re- still in danger. They still- Scar, we have to do something, how do we stop you from being in danger?’
‘I said it’s fine, Skizz.’
‘Cub, back me up, we have to get Scar out of this. I can't let them just keep- Scar- how are you so calm about this?!’
‘I’m fine, Skizz!’ Scar snaps. ‘I said I’m fine!’
‘Woah- I’m sorry, man. I’m just blown away how you’re-’
‘Skizz. Leave it,’ Cub murmurs, voice almost breaking. I shut up..‘Just- leave it.’
‘The voices get upset when they know I’m trying to escape. It’s best to just- accept that shit happens sometimes.’
Silence. My mind runs wild with ideas that won't work. Scar hugs closer to Cub, not speaking. Cub rests his head back on Scar’s shoulder, eyes closed. Until Scar stands, demeanor snapping suddenly to cheerful.
‘Now, I’m off to Impulse’s to help clear up whatever mess I caused. Bye, Cub-Cub! Bye, Skizzly!’
‘Oh- bye Scar. See you this evening, man! I’ll have the Star Wars ready!’ Cub calls, standing, starting to gather up the pancake bits.
‘You’re the best, my wonderful Stargazer! See you then!’
Scar flies away, leaving me with only greater uncertainty and a sinking worry in my gut.