Chapter Text
A day like any other. School was out, kids were already hauling ass out of the parking lot, and buses were already on their way to drop kids off at their homes. But, there was one boy who didn’t leave campus. Not for extra curricular activities, no. He was waiting. Waiting for someone. He held a notebook. A journal, perhaps. It was clearly written in and used, due to the slight wearing of the leather backing and the off colored edges of the pages.
The last buses left the bus shed, and suddenly the boy was on the move. In one swift movement, he jogged to the woods behind the school, his hood hiding his face from any possible cameras that could be watching him. He held his journal in a clutched hand, his other seemingly holding a pencil. Maybe even a pen.
The boy was quick, wasting no time to get to the hiking path which carved itself into the woods. It was a quiet path, where no one normally walked except for during the winter when the city would put up Christmas displays and lights. So, the boy was safe to run without being seen. The forest air was still for the moment, which made the boy feel safe enough to start slowing down to a light jog. This jog got him all the way down the path, which trailed off to an old warehouse. This was where he was headed.
Outside the warehouse stood another boy, wearing a compression shirt and some ripped jeans. He had a warm smile and kind green eyes. His hair was brown and curly, much like the previous boy, who had now stopped in front of the warehouse. The boy with green eyes clicked something around his neck: a stopwatch.
“Not bad, Oli. You were 9 seconds quicker than yesterday.” The green eyed boy said, glancing at the other, who stand panting in front of the warehouse.
“Shut up, Chase.. you’re lucky you’re homeschooled.” The winded boy, Oliver, replied.
Chase snickered, walking over to Oliver and patting him on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, bud.” Chase said, watching as Oliver managed to stand himself upright. “You’ll be doing the same after your damned Senior year is over.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, shoving Chase away playfully before walking into the warehouse.
“Oliver! You made it!” A voice called from a lamp-lit corner. A girl sat there, her hair frizzy and dyed freshly blue. She smiled at Oliver, which showed off the braces and power chains on her teeth. She had a small gap in her teeth, and the color of her braces matched her eyes: sea blue.
“Loraine! Hi! Is John here yet?” Oliver asked the girl, seemingly known as Loraine. He looked around, trying to stop the fourth member of this group: John.
“Nope! Haven’t seen him since I left the apartment!” Loraine said, leaning back in her seat - which happened to be a leather recliner. It appears that Loraine and John live together.
“Awh, man! I thought he was going to get here before all of us - at least that's what he said.” Oliver exclaimed, plopping down on the arm of the recliner. He still seemed a little winded, talking fast and taking shorter breaths than usual.
Lorraine patted his knee, turning to him a little. “Cool it, little man. Breathe a little, jeez.” She said, chuckling. But, her eyes held a little worry for the boy sitting on the arm of her chair.
Suddenly, the door of the warehouse opened, and in walked both Chase and John. John was a tall guy, probably around 6ft. He had platinum blonde hair, which used to be ginger before it was dyed. John had a small hit of a beard, which speckled the bottom half of his face. He had brown eyes; close to Oliver’s but not the right depth and shape to be the same. Oliver’s eyes were more like those of a doe. John’s were sharp at the edges and held bags beneath them. Oliver’s also held more of a warm glow in them when compared to John’s.
“Hey, you two!” John called out, walking over and placing a bag down in Oliver’s lap. It was heavy, and inside Oliver heard glass clinking. “Got us all a little something for after practice.” John said with a wink.
“Beer.. really, John?” Oliver muttered, raising an eyebrow as he glanced up at the taller boy. Oliver didn’t seem to like the idea of all of them drinking. The last time they’d drank after a practice, Oliver woke up with a raging headache and the whole warehouse was trashed.
“Cmon, Oli! It’ll be fun!” John said, trying to convince Oliver to drink with them after their band practice. John clearly didn’t see the harm in drinking.
Chase chuckled at the hint of chaos that was brewing between the two boys, and decided to step in. “Alright, alright. Enough. Oliver, you don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. John, don’t force him into things he don’t want to do.” Chase said, shooting John a small glare. Chase was always protective of Oliver; they were twins, after all. Almost identical. The only things different about them were their styles and their eyes. Chase’s eyes were green, and Oliver’s eyes were deep brown.
John sighed, rolling his eyes and pulling out a stool from seemingly nowhere. He sits down, popping open a beer bottle already. “Okay, okay. But, I’m not letting little Oli here ruin my fun.” He says, taking a long swig from the bottle.
* * *
Practice has just begun. Oliver has put his drum set together- he has to at every practice, since he takes it apart at the end so no one just up and steals the whole thing. Lorraine has set up everyone’s mics, including her own - clearly better quality - one. John has carried in his and Chase’s speakers, and hooked up his electric guitar to his own speaker. And, of course, Chase has brought out his beloved bass. He’s played bass since he was little, and has only gotten better with time.
While setting up, Lorraine leads the group in some vocal warm-ups. A couple sirens, a few “mi mi mi”s, and some lip buzzes. Of course, John isn’t trying, since he isn’t a back-up singer. But, Oliver and Chase are being careful during their warm-ups. Both are background vocals - Oliver doing melodies without words and Chase doing worded harmonies.
After about 30 minutes or so, everything was complete. Warm-ups, stage clearance, and overall readiness. Everyone was in position, and everyone was ready. Not Oliver, though.
Oliver felt sick, like he could just lean over and throw up. His head was spinning, his throat felt tight, and his lips were quivering. Why do I feel like this? Why now? Would be the questions he would ask himself if he didn’t know. But he did. He knew good and well why he felt like this. He’d eaten lunch today.
He’d made a bad habit of throwing up any food he ate throughout a day of school. Normally, he would just go home after school and force himself to hurl when he knew he had the chance–meaning that Chase would have his headphones on, and Oliver believed that Chase couldn’t hear him.
He may have thought he was hiding this well, but Chase saw right through him. Chase knew everything, but hadn’t let on to Oliver that he knew. So, he asked an unsteady question. “Oli? You okay, bud?”
“Yup, yup! I’m just fine!” Oliver replied in a sudden voice. He was clearly stressing all of a sudden; shaking his leg and constantly adjusting the height of the seat to his drum set. He was caught up in the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, as well as the rising cold in his chest. That was new, and it was terrifying for him. In a sudden jump, he ran out of the warehouse.
The others looked to see him dash–except for John, who was downing his third beer. “He’s just having another moment. He’s still 18, after all.” He explained, belching in between pieces of his sentences.
“Johnathan,” Lorraine shouted. “You can’t seriously be brushing this off! There’s something wrong with him - it’s clear as day.” She ambushed John for his carelessness.
Meanwhile, Chase was sitting on the tattered leather couch that the band had thrifted and put in the warehouse, head in his hands. He was worried sick. Oliver was his little brother and his best friend. It was tough seeing his shoot off like this. What was he supposed to do about this?
* * *
Why? Why now? Why so suddenly? What happened? Why? Why? WHY.
“Chase.. I’m so, so sorry.” Oliver whispered to himself, his vision hazy and his body tired. He’d been throwing up for the past 30 minutes. It was utterly insane. This was the longest something like this had taken. It was usually so easy for him–well, not easy. It had just become a practice for him. He was used to doing this daily. It was part of his routine. How had he forgotten? He’d been like this for over a year now. Why did he forget now? It was so odd. Too odd.
Maybe he should go to the doctor? No, he couldn’t. If he went to the doctor, they’d just send him back to therapy and tell him there was “something wrong” with him. They would say he needed more “medicine” and “care.” None of it would work, though. It never did. It made everything worse. It would make him hurt and it would make him different. He would never be himself again if he stayed on those meds. They stripped him of his individuality. He hated it.
He wandered, for the meantime. He tried to think about other things - but the only thing on his mind was home. He wanted to be home, in his bed, with Chase sitting by his side. Maybe a movie played on the small TV in the room. Maybe the two would even make a small collage with all the scraps of newspaper and coupons that sat on the counter top in the kitchen. Peace. That’s what he wanted. Just some peace. He would be calmer at home. Safer, too.
These were the thoughts that he enjoyed from time to time. But, they soon faded from his mind as he realized where he was. In the middle of the forest behind his high school. This was a new area, though. The air was damper, and the canopy of the trees made everything darker. Hell, it might have been dark outside - for he couldn’t recall how long he’d been walking. He had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice how far he’d wandered from the path that snaked through the trees. He’d wandered through this forest before, but he’d never gone this far on purpose.
His first instinct was to turn and try to head back, but his feet did the opposite. He started moving forward, and he was on his way into thick brush and bramble.
“Geez, it’s heavy out here.” Oliver muttered, breathing in the thick, humid air that surrounded him. His skin was sticky and warm; a feeling that he despised. The leaves looked tired, just as he was. Some were in a state of decay, which worried him. What was he walking towards? Why was he walking this far? Why couldn’t he make himself turn around?
His questions were answered in a matter of seconds. The air suddenly became cool and dry-the complete opposite of what it just was. The sudden change made him feel a little dizzy, like he had stood up too fast. He leaned against a tree, feeling the cool touch of the bark. He took a deep breath, looking around for the cause of the change. Just then, when looking to his right, he spotted the change: a large, magnificent, glowing plant. It was massive, almost as big as Oliver himself. It had blue leaves the size of Oliver’s arms, and a huge flower that stood just over Oliver’s head. How was the area so untouched? Was he the first person to find this? Or was this some dream he was in?
“What in the world..?” He reached out, thinking his hand would simply go through the stem of the flower. But, to his surprise, he felt the small fuzz that the plant was covered in. It was colder than the area around it, and the beautiful periwinkle light from the flower reflected off of the skin of his arm. The sight of this other-worldly plant was truly something to marvel at.
He let his fingers trace the stem of the flower, and soon they reached the flower's petals. They were smooth and slightly translucent. This was when he noticed the smell of the flower. It was sweet and slightly musky. There was a small amount of citrus scent that came from the flower, which made him assume that it might produce some kind of fruit. He couldn’t tell for sure, though.
All throughout his curiosity, he had only just begun to notice the small trembling of the flower’s stem and petals. He raised an eyebrow at this, and started to walk around the flower. He wanted to know why this was happening. It was odd to him that a flower would just… shake? The movement was getting more aggressive the more he moved, so he stopped in front of it again to see if his movement was the problem. But, his position put him in the worst possible position, for-with a sudden pop-the plant suddenly produced countless spores that flew towards him and filled the surrounding area.
He was knocked back by the sudden force, and he landed on his back. Coughing shortly ensued and he sat back up, trying to wipe his face and clothes. He had breathed in some of the spores, and now his lungs felt heavy. He hit his chest with his fist, trying to get the spores out of his system. It was no use, however. For this vision became saturated and hazy. It was terrifying, and he continuously tried to crawl away. But, his sudden collapse stopped his efforts. He was unconscious and inhaling spores from a plant that he had never even heard of before. He didn’t know what would come of this. He would find out when he woke up.