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No one can fucking stand him.
That’s why Timmy sits alone during lunch, picking at the stuff his maid prepared since he is too good for school lunches. He doesn't care anyway. He just has to get through this year at this broke state school, pass his classes, and go back to hanging out with the cool kids, or at least the rich ones. For company he has armoured himself with his Play Game Plus and a bag full of cartridges where his books are supposed to be.
His console would’ve worked perfectly if it hadn’t died a class and a half ago, he still sat there, mashing buttons with his headphones on, pretending to be busy, Genius McNaughton. He is just waiting for lunch to end, spacing out, not having the rest of his food, bored, until he spotted that Spencer kid and his caution orange jacket walking right at him, not past him. Right at him, the little man looked decided. The console on Timmy's hands started to feel warm. His hands had pooled it in sweat. Ignoring the scary quiet junkie got harder as he stopped right in front of his table. Timmy kept his head down, eyes pointing anywhere else, asshole clenched. Kevin smashed his open hand against the table.
“Ohhh Spencer hi, sorry I didn’t see you there heh-eh, you may have noticed but I was too busy saving the princess from all the invaders heh-eh. Turns out the dev team for the sequel decided it’d be a good idea to…” Kevin smacked the table again, this time pointing straight at him.
Kevin orders Timmy to use his technological expertise and fix his TV, he explains the telly is aware of when he is having impure thoughts and turns itself on. He explains how the only thing that shit can tune is the sports channel and if he is going to have a haunted electronic tormenting him, at least make it a more enjoyable guest.
Timmy was delighted, his status as a l33t haxx0r had finally been bowed at and respected. “Sure Spencer, I can easily help you with that, but only because sports fucking suck heh-eh” Kevin didn’t say a thing he just raised a thumbs up at him. Timmy continued “I’ll bring my gear tomorrow and we can go to your flat after class, It’ll be ez” Kevin raised his other hand in a thumbs up, culminating his gesture on the immaculate double thumbs up. He then scanned Timmy’s table and took a pear Timmy had been ignoring for the last 10 minutes. Kevin stuffed the pear into his mouth, bottom first, bit down to the stem and walked away, whistling, hands in pockets.
As soon as the bell rang, Timmy hopped on his bike and pedaled faster than a speeding bullet, got home and took the TV box from the upstairs guest room to his desk and removed the lid, smiled at the circuitry and transistors, this was gonna be easier than ez. He hastily and excitedly put his antistatic straps on and got straight to work. He had a different computer for this kind of stuff. No way he was going to ruin one of his good machines for Spencer. Who did he think he was anyway?! And why was Timmy helping him?
The evening had passed and so had time for supper, Timmy emerged from his room when all the lights in the house were already out. He went down to the kitchen and heated his plate on the microwave before taking it up with him. He was almost done, almost, he just needed to run another test, do a small tweak here, make sure all the fragile silver highways are touching where they should and not bleeding out where they shouldn't. It was done, it was tested, it worked, it was way past bed time. The dark circles were going to be a pain to hide in the morning
Timmy didn’t see Kevin at all at school the next day, he was worried he might’ve been stood up, he wasn’t there during lunch either. When the bell rang he went to unlock his bike, kinda disappointed, kinda dejected, his bag empty of cartridges but full of solder paste, wires, probes and a bulky cable box. He was already on his bike in the asphalt when he spotted Kevin crouched by the other bike rack “Spencer? Whoa is that your bike? That's a sweet ride for a guy like you, I almost want to congratulate you”
Kevin put a finger on his lips signaling him to be quiet. Kevin explained that he did not own a bike on account of him being poor. Also because every bike he stole would eventually be stolen back on account of him forgetting the chain and leaving the picked lock behind. This time was gonna be different though ‘cause he would take the bike and Timmy could carry the lock. A “Crooked Alliance” Kevin thought
Timmy dragged his face down with his hand and rolled his eyes, “goddamit did you huff petrol for breakfast? Leave that shit alone and hop in, lets just fucking go”
Kevin raised his finger and explained Timmy that unless he had a full gallon all for himself, inhaling PVC glue from a plastic bag was a more efficient way to start the day. He hopped in on Timmy’s pegs and the boys went down the road.
The evening was toasty and the temperature slowly rose as the day went on. Kevin was enjoying the warm breeze in his face, at some point he rolled his sleeves up to feel the soft heat on his arms. For a sociopath, touch is a tangible sensation and one of the few things he enjoyed that didn't happen to be an act of destruction towards himself or society. He pictured giant hares, a whole stampede running alongside them.
Timmy's grip was tense on the handles, his arms and knees felt like spaghetti. He wasn't sure how he was making it with his pulse going a million per hour and his mind unable to focus. He couldn't feel the bar on his hands but could tell through his tunnel vision his knuckles were white, so he is grabbing the handles and he has not passed out.
No, this isn't normal for Timmy but you gotta understand, Spencer was touching him, and it wasn't a fantasy or a dream this time. He was grabbing him by the shoulders to stabilize himself on the pegs. He had a grip on Timmy's shoulders without the looming threat or expectation of violence. Kevin wasn't going to smash him into a wall or push him down the stairs like he had threatened to times before. Timmy was ecstatic, he wishes he could savour the moment instead of focusing on not losing control of the bike.
Tachycardiac and dehydrated, Timmy lets Kevin hop off the bike before him. Kevin looks at Timmy, shirt sweaty front and back, hands on knees trying to catch his breath and thinks he is a pansy for getting so worked up over a 15min ride.
Anastasia greets the boys inside. The house smells of crowded dust “Hi Kevin wh- what time is it? Oh! You brought your friend! Hi! Oh hii! Come on in, you look tired. Want something to eat?”
“Hi Mrs. Spencer, good evening! No I am good but thanks fo-”
“Good! Cause we ain't got nothing! AHAHA-ack” She choked at her joke.
“Who the fuck is that?!" Percy's voice roared from inside the house. "You letting strangers in now, Fatty?!” The sudden yelling made Timmy clench his whole body.
“Go, go before he sees you,” Anastasia hushed at Timmy “It’s just Kevin! He is back from school!”
“If it’s just the boy, then why the hell are you whispering?”
Kevin had already gone up the stairs, Timmy followed suit. He opened the door and was in shock at what he saw, Kevin's room was full of shit, actual rubbish scattered all over the place, it was random mounds of scrap metal harvested from different sources; wires, coils, and what looked like broken autoparts. Kevin sitting barefoot in the middle of the mess stripping wire with his teeth.
Before Timmy could mutter “Spencer, what the fuck” Kevin explained that in order to get more channels on his TV, they had to build a strong pair of rabbit ears, so he had skipped school in favour of stealing car antennas, coat hangers, lock nuts and anything that looked useful. He proudly showed Timmy all the can tabs he had collected from under his bed.
Timmy tried not to but he still let out a big laugh “Nyeheh-eh, oh Spencer you lvl 50 weirdo, we don't need any of this medieval peasant shit, the future is now” He took the hacked cablebox out of his bag and set it on the telly. Kevin's telly is a box TV so you can still place things on it. “Take a look at this, a modified decoder, 400 channels, international toons, 24/7 and completely free, isn’t that just neat? I learned how to do this ages ago from a Russian guy in an IRC room, it was empty and midnight for me but noon for him. Everyone in the room had already left except for us and we kept talking ‘cause he surprised me by getting the anime references I was throwing at him, heh-eh then he told me how he hacked his telly to get anime straight from Japan! I know, I couldn't believe it either! He told me he would teach me, he only needed a favour and for me not to ask many questions, ez. The deal was simple, I opened a bank account under his name over here with $1000 and he gave me the necessary warez in exchange” Timmy stopped smiling at his creation for a second and looked down at Spencer, cross legged on his crumb carpet. He was now covering a coil with chewing gum. “Why aren't you wearing any shoes?”
Kevin explained that today felt like the hottest day so far now that winter was over and they didn't have any AC or ceiling fans on account of The Percinator pawning them despite his pleadings
“Why didn't you take your jacket off in the first place?” Timmy suggested, puzzled but politely. Kevin shrugged as he realized he was still wearing it, he unzipped it and let it fall to the floor without admitting he hadn't even thought about doing so before taking his shoes and socks off.
Kevin was wearing a loose black tank top, his collarbones sticking out like the coat hangers he was tampering with. He looked like one of those runway skeletons featured on the fashion magazines Timmy's mum reads. His spine and ribs looking like they were going to pierce the skin, she loved that shit.
“Anyway, why don't we test this thing out and watch something other than sports? Heh-eh, time of truth heh-eh”
Timmy went to plug the thing in and it sparked. Kevin jumped, widened his eyes, and looked at the tiny streak of smoke coming out of the plastic box.
“No… NO NOOOOO!! Not AGAIN” Timmy screamed, he looked annoyed rather than concerned “last night, i tell you man, last night was like 4 hours of this” he said as he put his hands on his scalp and pulled his hair “i hate technology, i hate computers, i hate electronics” he lifted the box lid and revealed its green and silver guts. Kevin leaned in to watch, it was like a necropsy but for a robot. Timmy stared intently at the circuitry, frowned like a disappointed parent. He spotted something and sighed “ok crisis adverted, the ground wire just slipped, its an easy fix heh-eh, I'm glad I brought my tools”
Timmy put his bag on the bed and unrolled from it a foam mat where he put the lidless box, he also took out some metallic pens and an orange oven dial with a display on it. Kevin sat next to the whole setup, still peering into the board, looking at all the cylinders and metallic paths connecting them. Invariably and to Kevin’s delight, Timmy started talking “look Spencer, you see those thin lines? The signal goes through, I mean not exactly THROUGH them but ALONG them, there before hitting the decoder, which is this chip over here” Timmy points at squares, lines and cylinders within the maze, Kevin thinks of it as looking down on a miniature town full of miniature chip people “what I had to do is interrupt, ehh well not really interrupt but short, the signal at this stage and redirect it before uhh..” he took a pause to think, Kevin looked at him. Timmy was still scratching his chin finding the words to explain encryption modules and rolling keys to the most ignorant boy he's ever been in a room with, Kevin looked to the sides wondering what was wrong “... So basically the cable company sends in an encrypted signal through its satellite and…” Kevin sighed, everything was back to normal.
Timmy casually scratched some patina off the board and started poking it with his metallic pens, like a game of operation “I envy you for dedicating your life to drinking and smoking instead of electronics. Last night I had to run the fucking thing back and forth, back and forth. Dump the stupid firmware, run a signal test, crash the board, reboot, then do the whole thing all over again…” This was better than listening to the radio, Kevin lit up a smoke. “Do you just like, spawn those?” Kevin shrugged and one of the straps of this tank slipped down, he either didn't notice or couldn't care. Timmy swallowed and redirected his eyes to the board.
“...So what I did is bypass the control bus, heh-eh it’s not really a bus, it’s more like a control trace but whatever, riiiiight here in order to skip the authorization checks…” Timmy kept probing the machine. Kevin smoked and tracked his hands, his fingers. Pale and princess-like, unblemished by sun, cuts or work. His hands looked newborn, like he literally never lifted a finger in his life or done anything with them other than suck on his thumb.
Kevin's hands were squareish and calloused, firm and full of random scars from fights, bike accidents, dog bites, burns, he never actually knew. He couldn't care less.
The overhealed damaged skin made his fingers look stubby unlike Timmy's. Yet the most noticeable difference between the two was the fact Timmy's fingers and pulse was precise, it went along with his breathing, even yapping and working on a bed, his soldering was flawless and steady. Kevin's hands would tremble, he was always trembling as a matter of fact, at a low frequency, the way someone with an empty stomach full of alcohol who dulls the pain with nicotine shakes. “... It was this fucking guy over here and some janky soldering” Timmy pointed at more shapes with his index finger, unchewed and almost pristine nails except from some dark spots which Kevin then understood were not from a straightshooter but from his metallic pens. Is he always like this then? “Stayed up 4 hours for a fucking 20 cent resistor! Heh-eh can you believe that?! I almost shoot the damn thing with my father's gun heh-eh, never drink and drive, never solder sleepy”
Timmy closed the lid, with a slight smile on his face he spoke to the thing. “All right buddy, it's ok now, it's ok. Let's see if you behave this time, you little shit”
He plugged the box to the outlet, no sparks this time, the boys looked at each other. Kevin passed the TV cable to Timmy, he plugged it in and they both took a step back. Kevin turned the telly on, finally time to enjoy the fruits of their labor
NO SIGNAL
Kevin didn't understand the text on screen. Timmy let out an anguished groan, Kevin plugged his ears and lit up a cig.
“Are you JOKING are you ACTUALLY fucking kidding me?! Fucking HELL” Timmy yelled at the white and blue screen “What is it?! What is iiiitt this timeeee??? Augh! Unbelieeeeeeevable” He was whinier than usual, Kevin didn't understand how it was possible “The decoder works, it should work, I KNOW it works” Kevin wasn't surprised. Timmy was the dumbest hacker he knew, on account of him being the only hacker he knew.
Timmy paced around for a bit muttering at himself, head between his hands. After giving Kevin's room a couple of laps, he yanked his head up in realization “I am fucking stupid” Kevin nodded, he was delighted they could agree on something. Timmy looked at the telly, the decoder and then at Kevin's creature. The long twisted amalgam of coat hangers, microwave coils, toaster springs and autoparts that sprawled across the room.
“How did I not think of this sooner?!” he tapped his fist against his forehead “Spencer, your shitty ass neighborhood has no coverage” Kevin raised his eyebrow, he often wishes Timmy would speak less and say more. “That means, we see ourselves forced to use your antenna and connect it to my cablebox” Kevin laughed, he did not understand how or why but he rejoiced in the fact his tech was as good as Timmy's. “Not now though, I'm fucking tired of this box. Let's go eat Spencer, my treat”
Kevin explained that the only place nearby that he hasn't been banned from yet, is a fried chicken spot that throws out their cold chicken thrice a day, once in the morning and then at 4 and 8 so he advised they go out in a couple of hours. Timmy felt like smacking the guy for even suggesting that
Timmy asked Kevin if he'd seen his helmet and Kevin explained the chicken place is a couple blocks walking the wrong way, no point in getting the bike. Timmy resented the short distance, he wanted Spencer’s feet on his pegs, hands on his shoulders and weight on his back. He glanced at his bike as they left.
The sun was starting to set and the heat quickly dissipated, Kevin put his orange jacket back on and Timmy his gray pullover with the hood on. The boys walked in silence, first only the sound of their footsteps filled the air, then the sound of Kevin striking his lighter, he filled Timmy’s vision with smoke, he never bothered to puff to the other side.
“Goddamit Spencer seriously?” Timmy waved his hand dramatically in front of his face
“Mm?”
“Fucking another one? You smoke like a fucking chimney, your lungs are gonna give up on you before you turn 30!”
“Oh jupht mphut phe phuck up.” Kevin cuts him off.
“Pardon me?”
Kevin takes the cigar off his lips “I told you to just shut the fuck up”
Timmy wasn't expecting that “I- I mean” He swallowed “y’know, nicotine harm and addiction and stuff is like, scientifically…”
“Are you a dog? Do i have to beat you until you fucking get it?” Kevin tilted his head to his side and up and blew smoke straight at his face, waited for a reaction. Timmy just shut up.
Timmy walked with his hands on his pockets, rubbing the black nail polish off his nails. He wanted to say more, oh boy he had plenty to say. He had a troubling thought since before they hopped on the bike earlier, he had a lot of shit to say but he didn't want Spencer to curb stomp him or burn his house down.
Fuck it. It's now or never, he took a breath of courage “I was thinking about the PVC shit you mentioned earlier today” He blurted in a hurried sentence. Timmy sighed, his throat lumped. He had to speak carefully or his voice was gonna crack “I mean, your booze and the medicine is ok, I just wish….” he rephrased that sentiment “I mean that stuff doesn't go through your stomach or anything, it goes straight to your brain y'know?”
Kevin scoffed and rolled his eyes, slightly amused at Timmy's worrisome observations and a bit annoyed he wasn’t letting that shit go
Timmy continued “And the fumes start making holes in it. I mean, I am just saying you don't have to...”
Kevin stopped walking, Timmy took a couple steps to realize he was ahead and turned at him. Kevin was staring, fag on his mouth, not exactly angry, just very focused on him
“Say that again.”
Timmy blinked and began talking “That- that stuff’s got like, like it’s got actual neurotoxins...”
“Did I ask for a fucking science lecture?” Kevin took a long draw of his cigarette without breaking eye contact. Silence. “You know why I stand you, McNaughton?” He spoke as the smoke escaped his mouth. “ You prove yourself useful” Kevin stepped closer, Timmy took half a step back. “But the second you tell me what I should or shouldn't put inside my body” Kevin flicked ash onto the road and took the last huff "that's when you start sounding like my parole officer” He threw the empty filter to the gutter “can’t stand the guy”
Timmy raised his hands meekly, like an exhausted boxer “I wasn’t…”
“If I wanna smoke, I smoke.” He lit another smoke. Took another step. “If I wanna drink, I drink.” took a drag and stored the hit on his lungs. Step. “If I wanna huff glue out of a bag behind a bus stop like a complete degenerate…” Kevin shrugged “…guess what?” He exhaled
“B- But that stuff…” Timmy looked tiny inside his hoodie. The harsher Kevin spoke to him the further he shrunk
“Like I give a shit. One thing and one thing only gets to happen here” Timmy froze. Kevin was just 2 steps in front of him “you get to fix my television thing” Kevin leaned in close. Timmy could smell his unwashed body beneath the medicine and cigarettes “You don’t get to fix me.”
Timmy shut his eyes and shook his head “No, man, c’mon Spencer I just I’m trying to...”
“What are you trying to do?” Kevin did not raise his voice, he just squinted at him. “Listen carefully cause I hate repeating myself” He points at Timmy with the cigar. “You care about what goes in your body” He points at himself “and I’ll care about mine.” He straightens up and shrugs. “Or else, I might start worrying about what happens to yours.” He raises an eyebrow “Are we clear?”
Timmy turned his eyes to the ground, he fucked up, he shouldn't’ve said anything in the first place, he should’ve dropped it, he shouldn’t’ve pushed the subject. Now he is scared and won’t even look at the guy. He nods.
Kevin lets out a short laugh and points at Timmy “Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” he flicks ash into the gutter. “Stick to your gay robot shit, McNaughton.”
Timmy keeps walking, staring at the ground, Kevin is walking two steps ahead of him. The quiet sound of suburban hum and their jeans rustling along their steps. Timmy didn’t notice the couple blocks they were supposed to have already walked had turned into 6, a perfectly justifiable biking distance. He also didn’t notice his shoelace had become undone, he was staring at the ground and thinking. Thinking about slipped wires and unstable connections, about how he is not gonna buy second hand solder again, even if it arrived sooner than the export, the skip was not worth the run. He thought about seeding torrents and linking libraries, about the TV box in the other guest room and the process he’d follow if he had to do it all over again. He kept scratching his polish off as he thought of this
Kevin raises his eyebrows at the sight of the promised chicken place. He points at it and then turns to Timmy. Kevin looked chill, like he forgot he was mad about anything. As if the conversation had happened but he didn't register it in his head. He pointed at Timmy's undone shoelace. His face, expressionless and blank as usual, gave Timmy an odd sense of comfort he couldn't finish getting used to.
The place fucking sucked, as Timmy expected. The yellow lights hummed loud and the place reeked of feet and grease. The people in there wore grocery store clothes and ate like literal pigs, no one bothered to bring napkins to their table.
Timmy looked at the menu above the counters, the combos were numbered 1-10 going from a single chicken sandwich to full meals. Timmy had his father’s blue credit card, so he decided to flex by ordering a number 10. A meal for 6 people, a Jumbo Bucket, 6 Sodas, 6 Sides and 60 Nuggets, they served the whole order in 2 overloaded trays. Kevin was already grubbin on the coleslaw as Timmy was paying. The PIN is the year the old man bought his first porsche.
They sat as far as they could from everybody else, Kevin was done with that coleslaw before they even sat down and moved on to assault the bucket. Timmy took a single drumstick from it, it was wet with grease and it made his hands up to his wrists feel absolutely filthy, he set it down and slowly picked the crust off and probed at the chicken, it was simultaneously gummy and dry. He took a sip of one of the 6 sodas, all different flavours at Spencer's request, and tried hard to not spit it out, they even managed to fuck that up, unbelievable. He looked at the mound of inedible food in front of him, he couldn’t bring any of that garbage back to his parents, maybe the dog could have the leftovers but he’d rather avoid the vet visit.
Spencer, on the other hand, was having the most satisfying meal he’s had since juvie. He had no idea the chicken tasted better when warm, he usually came to this kind of place to rummage the bins or ask paying patrons if they were gonna have “the rest of that” and not wait for an answer. He scooped the sides with his hands into his mouth, the mash potato was so good he double wielded both hands as shovels and gulped the whole container in record time. The boy is not even chewing the chicken pieces or he is going so fast you can't see his jaw move. He is not wasting time with breathing. He flicked off the lid from a mustard container and went at it with his fingers before sticking his tongue and nose to get the walls cleaned up.
Timmy looks at the mustard all over Kevin’s face and he thinks of the mustard on his maid’s dress, she is crying. This didn’t happen recently, it was a year or two ago when Timmy was still a young and dumb child, unlike today. He was sitting on the living room floor of his parent’s summer house playing games on the console when the maid handed him a plate with the snack he had ordered. Just by taking a whiff of it he knew the thick wench had used the wrong mustard, he threw the sandwich at her. His mother was watching from behind, she was on the phone with another lady. Mrs McNaughton bursted out laughing “ehehehe oh no! I’m sorry ehehe- the kid- eheheh you won't believe what the kid just do! Ehehehehe”
Timmy's whole body was uncomfortable now “Hey Spencer, excuse me for a second I’m gonna use the toilet heh-eh” Kevin didn't react, he was entranced sucking the marrow off the bones in the bucket. Timmy couldn’t dare enter that place WC so he just went outside for a while, maybe the cold breeze would stabilize him, he took his hood off. It had already been an intense day and he wasn’t well rested. He had a lot to think about but the only place he could go in his mind was his desk and straight to the bench. Mentally he was rerouting the fucking traces, forcing chips to behave and brute forcing decoders to submission.
When he walks back in, he sees Kevin all hunched over his tray, looking to the side to side. He takes the lid and straw of what seems to be the last soda, the one Timmy attempted to have, and is done with it in a couple fat chugs, not a single drop wasted. He is shoving fries into his pockets. He opens the remaining condiment packets, including the salt, with his teeth and squeezes them all in his mouth. All the nuggets are gone, Timmy’s picked drumstick and crust are gone.
“Damn the dog is gonna be disappointed heh-eh” Timmy distastefully remarks. Kevin says he doesn't get it and asks if he's got any smokes “let’s go get you some”
The convenience shop is the way opposite to the Spencer’s house, fact that makes Timmy seethe ‘cause all he thinks about when walking the distance is riding the distance with Spencer holding onto him. The shop clerk recognizes Kevin from the news so he never asks for an ID or for full pay. Timmy is so unbothered he buys a pack for each. Kevin points at a parked bike with pegs on it, then looks at Timmy then at the lock and flashes his grimy smile at him.
“Oh hell no Spencer! Enough with the lockpicking! I hate that shit, it ruined my fucking life man” Kevin takes a twig outta the pack and lights it. Smoke is again on Timmy's face “FINE Fine, I’ll tell you all about what happened, but you gotta promise not to tell any of the hot girls at school, get it?” Kevin starts walking, it's getting cold and his jacket is turning sheer from use.
Timmy tells Kevin about his previous posh public school and the DnD nerds he used to hang with, he wouldn’t consider him his friends but they were the most tolerable people who didn’t have the need to get blackout drunk and hookup every weekend. They exploited Timmy’s abilities as a hacker by playing pranks; triggering the fire alarms remotely, spying on the CCTV and teachers emails, unblocking IRC from the computer lab. All sorts of unharmful mischief. Then one day a teacher fucks up and gives a non-passing grade to one of the other nerds, "a breasty hot chick" according to Timmy. She talks to the teacher and he agrees to correct the grade as soon as they are back from winter break. The Hot Nerd Chick is devastated, she cannot wait for winter break, her parents will see that grade and kill her, or worse, ground her during the entire break. Timmy thinks about it and decides against doing any sort of grade editing on account of it crossing a line. Accessing cameras and reading emails was alright, it’s just snooping, but to actually breach a database and edit its contents was a bit too far. Timmy says if he gets caught he is to be sent to a Russian gulag for elite hackers and get tortured for the rest of his life.
So the whole team convinces Timmy to hack into the computer system in order to get the grade changed, they all wanted a couple of grades to be tweaked and they make a plan. He is going to break into the administrative building that night and plug his laptop to the main server. He wasn’t going alone of course, he had to take fucking Pimples along. Pimples is a guy whose mum had been working at the billing department for ages, Pimples knows the admin building like the back of his hand, not only that but he has a lock picking tool set he won’t lend to anyone else. Timmy hated Pimples on account of him being a moralfag, the guy was a walking terms of service agreement who constantly reminded the teacher about homework. That guy was supposed to pick the lock to the server room but was taking too long, when Timmy asked if there was something wrong, he looked up at Timmy, eyes full of tears for some reason, and told him he wasn’t gonna be pushed around any longer, he was tired of being his lackey and was uncomfortable with what they were doing. He told him he had to find an unprincipled sidekick because he refused to go any further with the plan.
Pimple's monologue and the fact they were standing by the door in front of a CCTV they already knew was there, caught the attention of the night shift janitor. Timmy was expelled for the rest of the year and had his electronics taken from him. His parents sent him to state school as punishment. Pimples’ mum vouched for him and he still hangs out with the other guys.
Kevin had left a dotted path of ash and cigarette butts as Timmy spoke but when he finished he was actually done, no awkward laughter and no additional stupid tangents. Kevin was eating the fries he had stashed on his pockets, Timmy expected the improbable and that was for Kevin to say something, it obviously wasn’t happening so he prompted him to after some silence “So yup…. Thats the actual story of how I ended down here with the lot of you heh-eh you might think im dumb for not knowing how to pick my own lo-” Kevin interrupted to point out he had brought a conscience to a crime, and asked him what the fuck did he think was gonna happen.
Timmy looks down to his sealed pack and opens it, they are wrapped in cellophane just like a lot of trading cards. He awkwardly sets one on his lips and lights it with the collectible zippo he took from his father’s office. Pink lung Timmy coughs and hacks from just turning the thing on, he chokes on smoke so hard the cig falls to the ground. Kevin picks it up and keeps smoking it. Timmy can't stop coughing, his face is red and eyes all watered up, he might just die right then and there. He puts his hands on his knees and is able to articulate again “Oh man ahh-” Wheeze. Breathe. “Oh by the beard of Odin” Kevin looked at him as he regained composure, Timmy looked at his pack of smokes and handed it over to Kevin “They didn't have my brand, keep them”.
He explained Timmy he could not take them, if Percy knew he had more smokes than usual he would take them from him. “Hmmm, I see…. Oh! I know! You see, Spencer, I can teach you how to give a box a false bottom only you can access. I do it all the time to keep my mint cards away from sight when going to conventions heh-eh I do mine with the business card cases my father throws out, but a box of mints works just as well!” Kevin smiled at him, he really liked the idea of a secret hideout less complicated than a child-proof cap, that his dad would be too dumb to open.
They get closer to Kevin's flat and the atmosphere changes. Inexplicably, the boys get tense as the silent night and fast food lights are replaced by the yellow smell of screaming and stale nicotine
“What’s this one doing here?” Percy peeks from the kitchen as the boys walk inside.
“He’s Kevin’s friend.” Anastasia echoes from the kitchen as well.
“Kevin don’t have friends.” He tumbled himself off the chair and onto his feet, he dripped a bit from the bottle he was holding and walked towards Timmy. “Who the fuck do you think you are turning my son fruity and shit?!” Mr Spencer asked. His uneven stubble, bloodshot crusty eyes and dry lips inches away from the kid’s face. Percy let out a thick belch that had stagnated deep inside his gut until he stood up. Timmy sucked into his lungs the lot of it, he was fucked, money couldn’t get him outta this situation, every dialogue option would result in a bad ending for him. Making Timmy look so scared and defenseless made Percy laugh
“Poisy, c’mon leave the kid alone, let’s go, not now not today, c'mon lets go have sexy time” Mrs Spencer spoke into her husband’s ear as she caressed his back. Percy wasn’t listening, he had suspicions about that McNaughton kid and every adult in town knew his parents were degenerates. He did not need his household involved in sick rumours of the sort.
“You either get outta here before I see your hands all over my son or I take you out myself eh eh eh” Percy raised the bottle he was holding. Timmy closed his eyes and saw himself knocked out cold bleeding to death on Spencer’s foyer
Kevin grabbed from the floor a metallic ashtray that Percy had thrown Charlie more than a week ago, and threw it at his dad’s forehead.
Percy's eyes looked through Timmy, he took a couple wonky steps back, then forward, sighed then fell to the floor “yeah boy! Stick it to the man!” a familiar speech impediment echoed in Kevin’s head
Timmy opened his eyes realizing he was alive, he saw Mr Spencer’s body on the floor and Kevin casually walking over him, crouching to steal cigarettes from his jeans and heading towards the stairs. He followed Kevin with his gaze, who pointed up with his thumb and jerked his head. Timmy tried not to touch the unconscious man on the floor and went up with Kevin.
Kevin sat on his bed. He was quiet, he always was, but this time he was quiet. He wasn’t even staring at Timmy navigating across his room. Timmy crouched by the telly to look at his reflection. His pasty skin was white in fear and exacerbated the value of his dark circles. He looked at the mess of wires he had been able to ignore and remembered the mission at hand
“Spencer” Kevin didn’t look up “I know my decoder works, lets try your antenna” Kevin stood up and without looking at Timmy, handed him one end of the coat hanger tendril that wrapped his room “Thanks man” Timmy drags his bag across the floor and takes a metallic pen and a wire out, he uses the pen to melt a smelly hole through the lid of the box and then connects the antenna with the wire. Effective wizardry.
Timmy smiles at the sight of everything coming together, Kevin relaxes at the smell of molten plastic. Timmy adjusts himself on the floor in front of the TV and Kevin joins next to him. Timmy notices that despite the fact they are sitting cross legged, Kevin has one leg strategically folded up so as not to have their knees touch. The cost of having him closer than usual.
Kevin turns the TV on and both their faces light up in colour. It lives! Kevin is annoyed at the strident cacophony coming from the speakers but Timmy is smiling, he recognizes what they are watching and of course, starts talking
“No way! I think it's too early for that video to be playing” The telly turned on the music channel, the video in question featured clips of a band playing and a dental procedure, the latter interested Kevin. He laughed and started picking at his cavities with his nails. “You see, the tooth extraction is real heh-eh no practical effects, they had a friend of the band recorded at the dentist and since the footage is so explicit they can't play this video before midni-” Timmy looked at the clock in the corner of the screen and sprung to his feet, hand dramatically holding a mental breakdown from leaking through his forehead. “How the fuck! Holy shit! My parents are gonna kill me” Kevin looked at him from his spot on the floor. He lit up a smoke and went back to focus on the guy getting his teeth pulled.
Timmy thought for a second, his parents were not going to kill him. They had never tried to kill him. They really didn’t. They were far far from it. They never laid their hands on him, and the worst thing they’ve done to him was tell the chauffeur to stop buying alcohol for him. They could be serial killers and still not make an attempt against his life, they don't even ignore him enough for him to just die. He sat back down, the next video started “Heh-eh oh man, I have the deluxe version of that album, the second disc has a 15 minute long behind the scenes for this video. Do you see that guy over there? Heh-eh well pay close attention to him, he is actually a stunt, you’ll see in a sec….”
Timmy dumps trivia for another 8 or 10 music videos. Kevin is awake and listening, watching and listening. Timmy is afraid to pass out from exhaustion when riding, the dark circles are gonna be impossible to hide in the morning. They switch the videos off and jump over Percy’s not-corpse to the front door. Annie had draped a blanket on him. “Hey Spencer, thanks for everything, I appreciate you letting me sit on your bed and all that stuff” Kevin lifts a small thumbs up at him. Timmy puts on his helmet and straightens his bike “Spencer, if the box fails or stops giving signal, tap the antenna lightly or turn it off and on heh-eh, if that doesn't fix it call me ok?” he smiled giving a call gesture with his hand. Kevin mirrored the gesture without the smile. “See you at school! I hope” Timmy waved. Kevin looked at him, he observed him getting on his bike and pedaling off, he did not shut the door until he was down the road and well outta sight.
“Oh it’s just you boy, I heard some noise and got worried your father might be awake” Annie spoke from the stairs. “Did you have fun?”
Kevin told his mum about all the chicken he ate and how Timmy fixed the telly so they can watch his stupid music shows here now. “Ohh he sounds like good company huh? Ignore whatever your father says, you can keep bringing him here” Kevin reached into his pocket and took out a couple of smokes outta the pack Timmy gave him and handed them to his mum “Awww that’s my boy. Thank you Kevin, momma loves you” Kevin lifted a small thumbs up at her.