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It was nice. The cool breeze paired with the gentle sway of the grass. The calming sound of the water trickling down a tiny pond. The entire patch of land was barren, filled with nothing but endless greenery. All you could see were fields and fields of grass, nothing more or less.
A quiet puppeteer sat by the water, dipping his feet in—careful and deliberate. His wooden company rested by his side, equally silent.
“Matthias,” The puppet spoke, breaking the established atmosphere the two previously had.
Ah, a dream again. It clicked in Matthias’ mind. Louis could not speak in the real world, but constantly haunted him as the physical manifestation of his every mistake.
“Louis…” he’d respond, voice barely enough to be audible. “How do you do it?”
The puppet’s eyebrow quirked, curious to what he referred to. “Do what exactly, Matthias?”
“Have everyone like you…” The puppeteer twiddled his thumbs, gaze cast downwards towards his slender fingers, as if afraid of the answer.
“It’s not good to compare.” Louis scolded his owner—his brother—something Matthias found unusual. Well, it’s fine, he’s just dreaming right now.
“I know,” Matthias gripped his wrist tightly, the sting beginning to get to him, “But I can’t help it. I wish I were seen as you are.”
“Doesn’t Mr. Brand see you?”
“Why, of course.”
“Then what?”
Matthias inhaled a sharp breath, his lungs aching in a dull pain. He turned and faced the puppet, direst eye contact despite the creepy face he was met with. “I wish more people saw me. I wish I had more friends. I wish I could communicate better. I wish people preferred me over you in our matches. It feels as if you’ve stolen my every achievement and made it your own.”
“Ah, well Matthias, I’m sorry. There’s not much I can say to contribute.” The puppeteer turned away, now casting his gaze towards the ripples of water underneath his feet. “There will always be someone better than you, right? There’s someone better than you, and me.”
“You’re not understanding,” Matthias huffed in frustration. He turned his body back towards the water, holding his hands to his knees. “It hurts when the person beside you is better at everything. You can’t just say ‘there’s better’ when I must live with that person by my side, everyday of my life. It aches my dull heart. It pains me, more than you can imagine.”
“Eventually, you’ll find something as well, Matthias. You have people in your life. Like that cheerleader or that aeroplanist. Even the fire investigator, despite how much disdain I have towards him.” Louis sighed, extending his arms in a form of surrender. “Why can you not see that?”
“Louis… all my life I’ve been compared to you.” Matthias met the painted face once more, eyes trembling slightly. “I have to stand by your side as you bask in the attention I shall never receive.”
“Perhaps strive harder.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“A break would help.”
“To be forgotten further?”
“Well, I–”
“You’re a puppet for god’s sake. A puppet that has managed to obtain everything my human heart so desperately yearns for. Do you truly think I can tell people of my shame? My scars…” The puppeteer ran a hand against his sleeve, the marks etched in his skin still obscured.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You never know. How can someone like me ever speak of my shame? To Lily, to Charles, to Florian too. I know they’d be heartbroken.” Matthias clenched his torso, the dull ache returning once more.
Louis stared down into the water once more. In a mere moment, the painted face has seemed to dissipate. Matthias noticed immediately as the boy who stared back at him was a striking image of his younger self.
Louis simply frowned, raising a hand to pat Matthias’ back. “There’s nothing more I could say.”
“I wanted to be you for so, so long. I wanted everything you had received and more. I wanted to be seen, I wanted to be the embodiment of what you are. Is it so much to ask for?”
“It was. You had never been dealt the cards for such a dream.” Louis patted his back once more before whispering softly, “Hell, even now I’m a figment of your imagination. A way you found to cope with the crumbling mental state you’ve developed.”
The puppeteer stared into the water, his reflection gazing back. His sunken eyes, dull lips, and scarred face all reflected back to him. When he gazed at Louis’ reflection, it was as if a halo shined by the puppet’s—no, the boy’s head.
What had he aspired for? To be great? To be grand? To be known?
No… it was to be seen. To be seen for every fragile memory, every delicate action, every thoughtful expression. To be seen by others.
“Louis,” he’d mumbled under his breath, barely coherent enough for the latter to pick up, “Will I have better cards in my next life?”
The boy raised a finger to his lip, pondering on the question. He energetically kicked his feet against the water, ruining the reflection of the puppeteer on accident. “You never know, right?”
“I wish I were you…”
“I know.”
Another sharp pain invaded the puppeteer’s body, causing the man to instinctively curl.
Louis had a melancholy smile as he spoke one final time.
“Have a sweet dream, Matty.”
*******
Florian pranced down the hallway after having just completed his daily matches. They hadn’t gone all too well, but it gave him an opportunity to end early and visit his favorite puppeteer. He made sure to bring a small plate of beef stroganoff, liberty of Charles who wanted the brunette to eat well.
As he turned down the corner of the hallway, he noticed that the door to his left was unlocked. How odd, that door led to Matthias’ room. He gently knocked on the door, smiling as he awaited a response.
Only silence answered him.
“Oh, Matthias~! I have a small present for you!” Florian patiently waited with the dish in one hand, growing increasingly more uneasy by the situation. “I’m coming inside, okay?”
He hesitantly pushed the door opening, stepping inside the gloomy room. The first thing the fire investigator walked over were empty bottles of alcoholic beverages. His smile slowly began to fade as he searched for Matthias.
Not here….
Or here either…
Perhaps…?
Florian pressed onward and decided to check the final place he’d been neglecting.
The bathroom.
As he turned the nob, he felt his heart accelerate for an unknown reason. It’d be nothing though, right? At worst, he’d make a fool of himself and walk in on Matthias showering. He sighed in relief from the thought and opened the door.
The plate of beef stroganoff fell to the ground, shattering as the meal was ruined by the grim of scarlet red covering the floor. Florian’s face was no longer visible, hidden away by the shadows of the dimly lit bathroom.
The only thing one could tell was his stare--a stare that made up a million words.
Inside the tub rested a hand by the side, carefully placed and positioned as the tears of agony flowed out in one continuous stream. The aroma of iron replaced the previous scent of roasted meat.
The reflection within the deep hues of crimson was gone and only a hollow shell remained.