Archive of Our Own

Before they died in an abandoned building owned by one of the most powerful tech companies in America, Xio Fuentes lived in a three-bedroom apartment with four roommates, two of which had entered into separate polycules after their death (something Zooble knows for a fact because they had stalked them on social media using Pomni's account).

Now that they're out of the circus, and in a body of their own, Zooble remembers it with startling clarity. They had gotten interested in urban exploring because of their roommate's love of graffiti. Xio loved the ephemeral nature of it. The fact that despite how much work artists had put into tagging buildings, it could all disappear in an instant if a building manager decided it was time to "revitalize" a building. They liked finding abandoned spaces because it presented an opportunity to create art that would last, even if no one knew they had made it, and an opportunity to see what others had made. In a way, it was like visiting a forest to see how many people had carved their names into the trees.

Honestly, they weren't expecting to see that much art in that C&A building. There'd been rumors surrounding the place since before they ever moved to town. Mostly of ghosts, which Xio only partially believed in, but some of human experimentation, too, which they thought was definitely bullshit. Either way, their roommate had said that you'd have to be either very stupid or very brave to attempt to tag a building like that, but Xio had thought that some very cool art had come from some very stupid people, so they had gone regardless.

And then, well. Everyone knows what happened next.

Zooble would say they think about their old life a normal about, which is almost every day. They think about their parents, who must still be wondering how they died, and why their body had looked so withered when it had been discovered. They think about the art they left unfinished, and the twenty bucks they never paid back. They think about the leftovers they left in their fridge.

They really, really hope one of their roommates dealt with that part.

"You know you can still, like, talk to them," Cass told them, when they bring he topic up. They'd been feeling particularly nostalgic, and had vented a bit about not being able to show up for a friend's art show.

"It wouldn't be the same." Zooble sighed.

"I thought you were friends with artists." Cass scoffed. "You're telling me none of them believe in reincarnation or magic or something? I bet if you put them all in a groupchat and you were like, 'Hey, what's up! It's me, Xio. My body died and now I'm possessing this Korean chick on a part-time basis' at least, like, three of them would believe you."

Zooble frowned at her.

"You're only mad because they're right," Cin said.

"Oh, of course you're on their side," Zooble thought back, but didn't argue.

"It's a lot to take on faith," they said instead. "For anyone."

"Well." Cass shrugged. "Then start with the people who matter most. If you get at least one of them, that's still a win."

"And it'll be even more emotionally devastating if I lose them," Zooble replied.

"Have some faith, will you, Xio?" Cass said. "I thought you said you were friends with cool people. Cool people believe their friends."

Zooble frowned again.

They didn't like that Cass used their human name, though she often did. Zooble couldn't help but see it as a reminder of everything they lost. It wasn't that the name didn't fit anymore—if that was the case, Cass would understand, and delete the name from their memory—it was that it felt like it shouldn't. It was like a grown adult declaring themselves the champion of their fifth grade spelling bee. Regardless of whether or not it was true, the time to talk about it had clearly past.

"If Cin had told you who she was, and you'd never entered the circus do you think you'd believe her?" they asked.

"I would recognize Cin even if she turned into a paper bag and couldn't speak," Cass said, with so much conviction that Zooble had almost no choice to believe it. "You shouldn't settle for anything less."

Zooble keeps finding excuses to go back to their old neighborhood. They go to a concert, and take a detour to drive past their old apartment, even though their social media stalking had confirmed at least two of them—the ones in the polycules—had moved out. But, they think, it hasn't been that long. The other two have probably stayed.

Zooble imagine taking out their phone and DMing one of them on Insta to explain just who they are.

I know this is going to sound insane, Zooble imagines writing. But please don't block me. We knew each other in another life.

It sounds fake, even to them. They try again.

Do you remember your roommate Xio? You used to share your art supplies with them. You got into resin at the same time, but they could never get the measurements right, and their art always ended up tacky, so they let you take their molds. You used to show up to the bar they worked at every karaoke night and sing the same song, just to annoy them. They always gave you your first drink for free.

Zooble sighs and presses their forehead to their steering wheel for a moment as they let themself drown in self-pity. Then they straighten their back and drive to the concert.

The next week, they're in the area again for a craft fair. Zooble has decided to get into pottery now—they'd taken a bowl making class earlier that month. Gangle usually was the one who ended up painting and glazing them, but Zooble likes having an excuse to do something with their hands. They thought seeing some other artists might give them more inspiration. They can't stop themself from looking for old friends while they're there, though they don't find any.

They buy a set of essential oils someone tells them is good for soap-making. Zooble's never made their own soap before, but they can't imagine it's that hard to learn.

Cin says she thinks it's funny how many hobbies they've picked up, considering how much they used to hate going on adventures.

"Guess you're pretty willing to try something new when Caine's not the one forcing you," she says, and Zooble feels Caine's insecurity flare up at the statement.

"It's not like that," Zooble insists. "Me staying behind was never about Caine—he knows that. It's just… I mean, if everyone around you forgets who you are at the end of the day, who cares how many dragons you fought?"

Zooble thinks they might be trying to win an award for the most they can leave behind. Already, they've made a plate for Eomma, detailing it with petals of a flower she likes. They've stitched up two different shirts for Aera, adding embroidery to personalize it, despite the way their hands shake when they do. They screen print a shirt for Cass. Then Ragatha teaches them how to crochet, so they make Cass and Mo matching hats, too. It doesn't feel like enough, considering how much they used to do, before, but everyone always seems delighted by their gifts, so that's something. They try not to think how many old art projects of their's are still at their parents' house. They try not to think about what their parents have done with them.

Maybe they're all still in Zooble's childhood bedroom. Maybe they've turned it into a shrine for them. Maybe their parents go in there and pray for the child they had that will never come home.

Zooble imagines writing a letter to them pretty often. But the words they imagine never fit quite right, and they quit before they can get to the end. Whenever they start, their words tumble out of them, but they always dry off and the letter ends sharply, with no resolution.

They try to start simple.

Hey Mom,

Do you remember when I was ten years old and Abuelo died? After you told me the news, you held my while I cried, then pointed out the window at our bird feeder.

You asked me if I liked hearing the birds. I told you of course I did. And you lied and said you didn't put any food in the feeder, and that all of the birds I saw must have been sent by Abuelo from heaven, because he loved me, and wanted to keep my smile. You told me that we could talk to the dead anytime, just as long as we listened the right way. Well, I'm not dead, but if I was, I'd be bringing birds to you.

Or,

Hey Dad,

Do you remember when I was fourteen, and I wanted to take piano lessons? I only kept it up for a few months, but you were so proud of me then. You said I learned so quick, you wouldn't be surprised if became world famous one day.

I hid before my last lesson because I hated it so much. I didn't know why all the joy had gone out of learning, but I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. You told me that I was going to play one last time, because that's what we had paid for. And then I never had to do anything again, because nothing was more important than my own happiness.

Then they think, it should be addressed to the both of them, shouldn't it? There's no reason to make separate letters, even if it feels like there's pages of words they could write for each one.

Dear Mom and Dad

I'm sorry I put the headset on. I don't know why I did it. It was like as soon as I saw it, I couldn't stop myself. I promise I never wanted to leave my life behind. I promise I wasn't trying to escape you. I think as soon as I entered that building, I knew I wasn't going to leave. But I didn't want to die. Will you please believe me on that at least? I never wanted to stop being your child.

Gangle buys them fancy card stock, as if having somewhere pretty to put their words down would help. They appreciate the gesture, but all they can manage to get down is two words, repeated over and over.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry

But it's fine. Zooble has plenty to distract themself without thinking of the past. They have a full-time job now, which is a first for them, and they still have split their free-time up with the others. Sometimes Zooble is able to get a bit more time in because usually, whatever they want to do, Gangle will want to do with her, but that goes for hobbies, not driving at least an hour to find the former place of someone you used to know and sigh creepily.

They take a week weeks of dance lessons with Eomma, because Zooble thinks it's a good way to keep them fit, and they need the exercise. Since Eomma knows who they are now, she actually calls them Zooble. For that little bit of time, Zooble's allowed to exist as a new version of themself—the quirky child of an Asian woman who loves them enough to learn how to waltz. They feel an ache in their chest going in to classes on that last day, but they don't sign up for more. They can tell that the time for the hobby has passed, like all hobbies do, and they wouldn't be being true to themself if they stayed.

Besides, it had been getting hard to show up to class controlling the body with Gangle, both of them yearning for a life where the two of them could dance with Zooble holding onto Gangle's hip, instead of just in the imagination of the same mind.

"If I had to choose, I'd always stay like this with you," Gangle had told them once, after class. "I miss being able to hug you. I wish that I got a chance to kiss your face. But I feel like if we could separate, it would just feel like… letting go of you. I'm sorry I'm so clingy, I just—I think even if you were right in front of me, I would miss you."

Cin made some stupid joke about Gangle being a yandere girlfriend, whatever that meant, but Zooble had understood. They wouldn't give up this intimacy for anything in the world. They could no longer imagine a world where they had an idea, and didn't immediately see images that Gangle supplied for them. They were becoming a tandem bike of an artist. They'd reached a stage closer than collaboration, where everything that Zooble had put their hands on, Gangle had touched, too. A painting Zooble made wouldn't just have their keen eye and Gangle's inclination towards anime aesthetics. There was something bigger between the two of them now. A way to have two hands hold the same pen.

Sometimes, they would get to such a special flow state, that even if they'd been in separate bodies, Zooble knows they would breathe the same. They have more pride of the art they create like this than anything hypothetical child they might bring into the world. It's intimate enough that it almost makes up for the fact they can't have sex with each other—though every time they masturbate, Zooble pretends their cunt is Gangle's, and that feels pretty close, too.

It's fine. Sharing is all about compromise. Their old body hadn't been perfect, either. But it was the thing they used to mix drinks and trace tattoos and that had brought them joy. Now Alice So was the one letting them learn how to cook and use a kiln and whatever other strange hobby Zooble had pushed them into.

Mo's living with them now, too, so they haven't been pushing as hard lately. Cin gets anxious if they spend too long away from him. If someone at work invites them anywhere, or offers to set them up with a friend, Cin will push to the front and remind Zooble that they have a perfectly good man at home—which is funny, because Zooble's seen Cin go on dates with guys just to enjoy free food.

They still live with Pomni's parents. Since Pomni had explained their situation, there hadn't seemed to be any reason to keep their worries about Mo quiet. Cin had thought it best that they move out. That way, they could keep an eye on Mo and his recovery without burdening Eomma and Appa with an extra person to watch over, but Eomma had insisted.

"You want to take care of him because he has no one," she said. "But if I let you run off with him, then the two of you will just be alone together. Isn't that just as sad?"

It's easy to see where Pomni gets it from. The Sos are good people. Zooble's lucky to be one of them. Even if they do feel sometimes like a piece in a puzzle that you can't quite find where it fits.

Zooble is the one that's around most at work, because they like the people, so they make them go by So. The sound of it is almost achingly familiar, and sounds right in their mouth, but most importantly, it's Alice's last name. They never have to justify it to anyone. They can just exist, in this space, and be a person.

They learn their coworkers' favorite bands and surprise two of them with hand-made patches. It's not much, just paint on fabric, but they're impressed all the same. One of them asks Zooble how they have the room to store material for all their hobbies.

Zooble wants to tell them it was easier when all of their friends didn't share a body. When they could walk into their roommate's room and ask for clay and trade them some markers as thanks. Back when they knew the area enough to pop into a local art space and donate supplies they didn't need. Xio had earned a reputation at work for being a person who was willing to try anything once, and sometimes got roped along to classes with friends or given half-empty jewelry kits that someone's daughter had gotten bored of, because everyone had faith that they would find a use for it.

"Just good at packing carefully, I guess," is what Zooble actually says.

The people So work with don't offer them any art supplies, but Zooble doesn't hold it against them. It's a strange thing to give to your accountant, Zooble supposes. Even an accountant as strange as Alice So.

Mo thinks they're manic. When he accuses them of this, Zooble says, "That's impossible, I've never had a manic episode in my life," which just makes Mo raise an eyebrow and go, "Okay, but how about the rest of the people in your body?"

Zooble immediately gets a mental image of Gangle and Cin looking down guiltily.

"You should probably include Caine in that, too," Pomni says.

"I don't think manic episodes are in my programming," Caine protests, but everyone else knows she's right.

"It's probably hereditary," Kinger tells Caine, but refuses to elaborate.

"Pomni doesn't get manic episodes." Zooble pauses after they say this to get confirmation from the girl in question. "That should be the important thing, right?"

"I don't know." Mo shrugs. "Doesn't look too important from where I'm sitting."

Zooble crosses their arms and raises an eyebrow at him, but Mo just stares back.

"I guess," Zooble admits. "I can see how it looks like I might be going a bit overboard. But I'm not, like, running us ragged or anything. I take breaks. We're not missing out on sleep."

"Oh, yeah, that's a great defense." Mo laughs. "Can't be manic cuz you're getting a full eight hours, huh? What does Cin have to say about that?"

"Fuck you," Zooble says, because they already know Cin thinks they're lying to themself. Mo puts his hands up in surrender.

"Look, there's way worse ways to spend a manic episode than learning how to crochet or whatever," he says. "Just—let me know if you do start having trouble sleeping, okay?"

Zooble sighs. It's hard to be angry when they know why he's asking. Zooble had never spent too much time with Kaufmo in the circus, but he had spent a fair amount of time with some of the others in their head. He'd also had the misfortune to witness someone he loved abstract in front of his eyes. Zooble still isn't entirely sure what went down. They knew that Cass abstracting had played an important role in tearing apart Cin and Mo's friendship, back in the circus, but they also knew that the three of them were able to pick back up like nothing had happened, since they got out. Maybe Mo's main concern had just been their safety. It's easier to forgive and forget when your loved ones are still alive.

"Listen," Zooble says. "I promise I'm not going to let anything happen to us. I spent too long in that circus trying to get out to ruin it for us now."

Mo visibly relaxes at that, which annoys Zooble a bit. They don't think they're that much of a flight risk.

"If this isn't a manic thing it's you giving yourself too many hobbies so you don't have to think," Cin says. "And that's probably not that much better."

"I've always liked to keep myself busy," Zooble protests, but it's not like Xio hadn't had thoughts they wanted to hide, too. It was easy to forget about the discomfort you felt in your own body when you were using your hands to make so many great things. Easy not to care how much you spent on your hobbies when it made people look at you look a person, instead of some confused creature that didn't even know it's own gender. Once, Zooble even had someone cancel a tattoo consultation because they hadn't wanted to be touched by hands as dark as their's. Working at a bar felt almost comforting after that. No one ever refused a drink. In some ways, they resent their new body, for being free of that specific kind of pain.

But of course, none of this is anything they want to think about.

"I should teach you how to paint," Zooble tells Mo. "You need to work on your hand-eye coordination."

"I can paint you a polar bear on a snowy day," Mo replies easily.

"Cin is the only one who finds your jokes funny," Zooble says.

"Eh, one out of seven isn't bad." The way he says it makes it sounds like he actually means it. Zooble rolls their eyes.

"If you're going to tell me a bad joke, tell it to me in Spanish," they say. "I need someone to practice with."

"Well, if you're giving requests…" Mo hums thoughtfully. "¿Qué le dijo un ganso a una gansa? ¡Ven-gansa!"

Zooble snorts. Mo's eyes light up in delight.

"Oh, I see," he says. "That's why you didn't like my jokes before. I forgot to translate them."

"That was still a terrible joke!" Zooble protests. Mo shakes his head.

"Can't fool me," he says. "I saw that laugh. Next I'll have to find a joke that's so good you'll be laughing to hard to even deny you liked it!"

"Yeah, that's not happening," Zooble says.

"It might take a while," Mo admits. "But I'll get there eventually."

"Well," Zooble says. "Cin believes in you, at least."

"One out of seven isn't bad." Mo grins. Zooble doesn't reply. They don't want him to know it's funnier hearing that a second time.

Sometimes, Zooble thinks they're a bit jealous of Mo. He'd entered the circus before them—Cass, too. Even though the bodies they've returned to aren't exactly fun to live in, they're still survivable. Which means if Pomni hadn't dragged Zooble out with her, Zooble's body could have survived, too.

Not that Zooble isn't thankful. Honestly, waiting around in the circus with no one else on the off chance their friends could find their body? That sounds like hell. And it had still taken Alice at least a month to walk on her own. If Zooble had stayed behind, they would have had to wait for that, for Pomni to get her car back, and then wait again for Kinger to find a safe way to remove their headset and bring them back to their body.

It's not like any of them knew what they were doing. No one could have offered Zooble the choice, because they hadn't realized a choice had to be made. Better to share a body than be stuck in digital purgatory not knowing when you'd be saved.

Zooble doesn't wish things happened differently. They understand that they did the best they could with what they knew. It's just that Mo's been out of the hospital for a few months now, and Zooble doesn't know a single name of any of his relatives, because Mo won't even let them log onto his Facebook to let his family know he's alive. And Zooble—

Zooble still can't finish one stupid letter.

To the parents of Xio Fuentes,

Do you still believe in the human soul?

I know this must be hard to hear after you've already buried the body of your child, but there's a part of them that still exists on this earth, and they want to speak to you. The headset they were wearing when they died scanned their brain. Even though their body is gone, all of their thoughts and dreams remain. It's a bit complicated to explain, but I promise you, I still remember being your kid. Even though I'm writing this letter in a body you've never met, I remember how you raised me. I know how many times you've told me you'd love me no matter what, but I bet you didn't imagine this, huh?

You told me to never let myself care about the opinion of someone who thinks I'm "too much," but it's hard not to make an exception for this. Who wouldn't find it too much? How am I ever supposed to expect you'll believe this?

Gangle sometimes stalks her dad on Facebook. Her mom's account is private, and Gangle says she'd be too anxious to accept a friend request from a stranger, even if she recognizes Alice's name from the news and assumes they simply want to reach out as the sole survivor.

"I guess that's part of why I can't tell her," Gangle admits. "My mom's always been kind of stressed like that. You know what it's like, when you get diagnosed with something, and you start seeing a therapist and suddenly, um, basically all of your parents' actions make sense?"

It's a rhetorical question. Zooble knows what it's like because Gangle knows what it's like, so Zooble lets Gangle finish talking.

"She's always worried a lot about me," Gangle says. "And I couldn't really blame her for it, because even when I was little, I was kind of an anxious kid. Sometimes it was kind of nice, because if I ever didn't want to go on a field trip for school or something, she would always have my back… But then if I wanted to have a sleepover with a friend, she'd always ask me, 'Oh, are you sure? You're so sensitive, I don't want you to stay up all night because you can't sleep in someone else's bed.' And then, when I was applying for colleges, she told me I should stay close to home because she'd thought I'd get homesick. She didn't want me to be an artist, either—she told me I couldn't handle the rejection."

"That doesn't sound nice," Cin says. "That sounds like she's insulting you."

"Don't eavesdrop," Zooble tells her. "But… She's kind of right. Your mom should have been supporting you, not making you second-guess all of your decisions. That sounds exhausting, I'm sorry."

"She really was trying to help, though," Gangle insists. "I think she wanted me to be happy. She just… never figured out how to be happy, either. If I told her that I was still alive, I think… I don't know. Maybe I could convince her, but it would just make her worry more, you know? She'd want me to call her every day to make sure we were okay, since she wouldn't be able to see me in person. And she'd probably start crying when Cin tells her to stop. She'd probably want to make sure none of you were bullying me, and I wouldn't know how to tell her everything is fine, especially since—"

A wave of guilt runs through them.

"Sorry," Cin says. Despite the fact she's speaking in their head, it still comes out as a whisper. She thinks of a conversation back in the circus, when she asked Pomni if Gangle could actually be happy. Cin is starting to think that maybe, Gangle has always been surrounded by people making that so much harder for her. Gangle doesn't argue.

"I don't think she'll be any happier if she knows I'm alive," Gangle says. "Especially if it's like this. And I think I'm okay with that, really! It'd be nice to know she's moved on, and she's not thinking about all the terrible things that could happen to me all the time. I just… I wish I could tell her and my dad that I never meant to die. I wasn't—I was sad, but…"

"It's okay," Cin says. "My parents probably think I killed myself, too."

It's a horrible way to comfort someone. The absurdity of it makes Gangle laugh.

"It's okay," Zooble says. "I know how hard you try. We're proud of you."

There's a sense of bewilderment coming from Gangle, like she doesn't understand what she's done that's worthy of praise, but Zooble can't imagine a world where everything Gangle's done isn't amazing. She had managed to avoid abstraction for years despite her constant depression and being belittled or overlooked by the small group of people she was forced to spend her time with. Zooble can't imagine being so strong. If Pomni hadn't gotten them all out, they're not sure how long they'd last.

"But… you're Zooble!" Gangle protests, as if that means they're automatically capable of handling anything. Zooble loves Gangle's faith in them, even if they don't think they deserve it.

"I just didn't know what to do with myself in there," Zooble admits. "I felt… aimless. It was the first time in years I wasn't actively working towards anything, and I didn't know what to do with my time but think about how much I hated myself. The only reason that I started feeling even a little better was that I realized I could spend my time with you."

Maybe that time couldn't be expressed as physically as one of their hobbies, but experiences weren't nothing. Gangle is still Zooble's lifeline in a way the others are not. When they hold the body together, it feels as though Gangle's ribbons are wrapped around them. All Zooble's muscles and tendons are part of a beautiful puppet they can move together. It's easy to love themself as part of a whole.

Because they share a body, Zooble can't see Gangle's blush. But they feel it all the same.

When Zooble's not monopolizing their free time, Cin streams games for Cass. They mock her every time she dies, insisting they would be able to do so much better, even though one of the reason Cass is watching instead of actually playing is because she can only handle using a controller for about fifteen minutes before her hands give out on her. Zooble thinks this counts as a date, though Cin insists it can't, because Mo sometimes joins in, too. As if you can't have a date with three people.

The fact that they're all here together seems to have complicated whatever relationship they have. Sometimes when Cin is playing a game, Caine will take over unexpectedly, because his excitement at seeing the story unfold brought him too close to the front. Whenever that happens, Mo will suddenly extract himself from Cin—somehow, he always ends up with his arms slung over her shoulders—and move a few inches away. He always has this guilty look on his face, too, as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. It sort of makes Zooble feel like they're all cockblocking Cin, even though they know Cin doesn't want anything to happen in their body unless Pomni's also an active participant in it.

They're probably a bit overdue for a conversation about boundaries and everything. But Mo and Cass would have to be involved in that, and it's already a struggle to get Cin to open up as it is, so the best they've got is a vague "don't make anyone else uncomfortable" rule. Of course, before Mo and Cass, that was really the only rule they needed. Zooble's only really interested in Gangle, and Kinger has his wife who he thought about at least once a day. Ragatha and Pomni usually focused on everyone's collective happiness than romancing anyone, and Zooble's pretty sure Caine still doesn't understand the difference between romance and friendship, but finds the idea of sex altogether distasteful.

Back when Cin was still going on dates for free food, sometimes she'd flirt a bit too hard, and Pomni or Zooble would have to reel her back, but that had never been meant to go anywhere. Cin had just been testing her limits, then. She'd been expecting one of her dates to catch her slipping up, somehow, and make them doubt her womanhood. One time, she'd gone a bit too far being annoying Cin about everything and their date had insisted he was done with everything and left the club they were spending time in.

He'd said something rude. Zooble thinks the exact words were something along the lines of Cin being a "bitch who played with men's feelings"—something Zooble felt was one of her better traits, personally—and Cin had just watched him leave with a wry smile.

"Well!" Cin said. "That pissed, and he's still calling me a girl."

"Because you are a girl, dipshit," Zooble said. They'd been annoyed at the time, because the man had been a friend of a coworker, and Zooble expected this would lead to some conversation about how "I just don't get why you act so different outside of work" that Zooble wouldn't be able to explain.

But all that was a lot of words to say a very simple thing, which was that Cin could not imagine a world where someone saw all of her, and still loved her for it. Whatever's going on between her and Mo and Cass, Zooble expects it'll take years for anything to be done about it.

"Unless one of us steps in," Pomni had joked once. Zooble had mentally rolled their eyes, because they might like Cin more these days, but they didn't like Cin that much.

Except they're in control of the body now and they can feel Mo's warmth beside them. He shifts as Zooble blinks into awareness, which means he's noticed they're not Cin—presumably because they're not trash-talking the zombies in the game anymore.

Fuck, Zooble thinks, with feeling.

There's a thing their body does sometimes, where if it thinks someone else will be better at accomplishing the task at hand, it will force them out. Zooble had expected Cin must have been at least semi-aware of the conversation they had, because that's usually how things go, but that didn't mean Zooble was the one best left to deal with feelings. Pomni would have been a better choice to untangle this mess.

Ugh, fuck it.

"On a scale of one to ten," Zooble says slowly. "How much do you like Cin?"

Mo freezes.

"This is a trick question," he accuses.

"I'm just saying." Zooble shrugs. "You seemed kind of pissed at each other most of the time you hung out in the circus."

"Well, you did save my life since then," Mo jokes. "So I figured it all evens out. Water under the bridge and all that."

Zooble turns to look Mo in the eyes. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

"Don't," Cin warns. "He forgives me. Isn't that enough?"

"You have got to get higher standards," Zooble says. It's meant to be more of a thought than something directed at Cin, but of course, because they share a body, she hears it anyway.

"She missed you, you know," Zooble tells Mo. If Zooble had the chance to speak to any of their old friends again, they wouldn't let something so important go unsaid.

"I know." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I missed her, too."

Then Cin bullies her way back into being in control and laughs at Zooble for trying to be all gross and sincere, so Zooble crawls into the back of their mind and lets Cin have her privacy.

The other's have hobbies too, of course. Ragatha mostly spends her time befriending neighbors or catching up on chores, but Pomni's managed to convince her to actually relax so sometimes she watches bad reality TV with Cin or shoujo anime with Zooble and Gangle.

Kinger and Caine have a variety of tech projects they've been spending everyone's money on. Some of the coding projects are circus related, though the exact details of all of it kind of goes over Zooble's head. They've also been making a computer, which everyone has been pretty excited about. Cin and Pomni both say they wanted to make one before, but never had both the time and money, though they usually just spectate. Cin jokes that if they make her do anything, she'll probably wire it wrong and ruin all their hard work.

All of Pomni's urban exploring is focused on the circus now, but she still listens to a lot of true crime with a variety of subjects. Pomni's good at finding stories Zooble's never even heard of, especially stories with missing office workers and computers. Pomni and Kinger always take notes on what they hear, like they think it'll be relevant to their own situation. Zooble doubts it, but it's not like they have a better idea of how to figure out what happened to the other abstracted.

They have a lot to keep themselves busy. Zooble wishes that meant it was easy for them to forget about their old life, except every time they drive to that stupid building, all they can think about is how close they are to everything they left behind. And they have to go, every now and then to grab the data from the cameras—Caine is usually the one to go over the footage, since he's usually able to make sense of it the quickest—which means every few months or so, they're always a quick drive away from the bar they used to work at.

Pomni is in the middle of switching out the memory chips when Gangle asks about it.

"I just… I think it might be fun to see," Gangle admits.

"I wanna go too," Cin says. "I need to know how well it suits you."

"I didn't work at a gay bar, if that's what you mean," Zooble says.

"Aww, boo."

"It couldn't hurt," Pomni says. "And I mean—it's not that far. Maybe someone'll have a story about this place we haven't heard yet."

"Would it kill you to relax for even a second?" Cin complains.

"Sorry I don't think it's that fun to go to a bar where I don't know anyone and nurse a single drink because we have to drive home," Pomni shoots back, but it's decided, somehow, so they go.

Ragatha makes them check the building for water damage before they leave. She says now that she thinks about it, the entire place feels suspiciously intact for a place that had been abandoned about twenty years ago, but she can't think of why that might be.

"Maybe there's a robot that comes and fixes everything when we leave," Cin suggests.

"If we were building robots, it would have been much easier to leave," Kinger says. "I would have downloaded my conscious in one ages ago."

He's completely serious about it, which just makes the rest of them find it even funnier.

"C'mon," Zooble says. "Let's go get a drink."

Zooble's surprised to see a familiar face on the other side of the bar. It's been three years since they saw their coworker, Naru, and they had assumed that would be enough time to get them out of this place. But then again, Zooble shouldn't expect others to keep changing jobs just because they did. Naru had even told Xio once that he thought they'd break a record for the most amount of jobs in one lifetime. Zooble supposes they never managed that, though they are technically on their second lifetime now.

They order a margarita they think Gangle will like, which means Cin is also excited because they pick one a girly drink she'd never order for herself back before everything.

"You're not going to make me ask him if he knows anything, are you?" Zooble asks.

"Yeah, I don't think that'll end well." Pomni gives a nervous laugh inside their head.

Naru hands Zooble their drink and Zooble gives a short nod as thanks.

They let their eyes wander around the bar as they take a sip.

It hasn't changed much since Zooble saw it last. There's still the same random assortment of photos on the walls, including a painting of Xio's that their boss had bought from them a lifetime ago. It's something abstract and Zooble no longer remembers what it was supposed to be. They think they can make out an image of an eye, but everything around that is anyone's guess. There's a picture of a cat that actually belonged to one of their old managers that moved towns. They wonder if she knows her cat is still famous. Zooble thinks they may have been responsible for putting that one up. They remember making the frame for it.

It's still a bar, though, so it mostly smells like alcohol and an ocean of cheap perfumes.

A man walks up to them and Zooble feels Pomni's dawning horror about it.

"Oh, fuck," Pomni says as the man goes, "Ally? Is that you?"

"What do you mean 'fuck?'" Zooble demands, but then their eyes go wide as Pomni's memories flow into their's and they remember their boyfriend. And not even ex-boyfriend, since Pomni had never technically broken up with guy. "Pomni, no. You can't leave me to handle this."

"I just—I had other things going on!" Pomni protests. "What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry I never texted you back, I was busy recovering from a coma after being trapped in a digital hellscape for months!'"

"Literally anything!" Zooble cries. "Anything would have been better than this!"

"Hey," Cin says, because Zooble and Pomni are both too distracted to speak now. "Been a while."

"Is that seriously all you have to say?" the boyfriend—Kaleb, his name was fucking Kaleb, and Pomni's slept with him more than once—laughs in surprise. "I didn't—I didn't think I'd ever see you again!"

"I mean…" Cin gestures vaguely as she waits for Pomni's memories to fill in the gaps. "You always said we weren't 'that' serious."

"Pomni never date anyone who says that to you," Ragatha begs.

"That doesn't mean I wanted you to disappear without a trace!" Kaleb protests, waving his arms. "I mean, shit, I didn't even know you were alive until you updated your Instagram!"

"It was pretty touch and go for a little bit," Cin says, more to make Pomni laugh than as a response. Kaleb doesn't find it funny. "Look, what does it matter? You were going to break up with me, anyway."

It comes as a surprise to Cin that Pomni actually believes this.

"You're never allowed to get on my case about avoiding someone ever again," Cin tells her.

"I'm sorry," Pomni whines. "But he was such an annoying boyfriend."

"So you ghost me?" Kaleb exclaims. "Al, this isn't how adults handle relationships!"

"I was in a coma," Cin snaps. "Sorry if you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind."

"I know," Kaleb says. "Jocelyn had to find out from her manager!"

"Who?" Cin asks, before she can stop herself. Kaleb looks like he might explode.

"Your coworker!"

"Ah." Cin presses her lips together, waiting for Pomni's excuse, but she doesn't have one.

"It just… didn't seem as important as you guys," Pomni admits. "I don't know. I guess I didn't think they'd care. I mean, I told my boss I was quitting."

"You didn't think they'd care about you going missing?" Zooble asks.

"I mean." At least Pomni has the good sense to be embarrassed. "It's not like I talked to any of them that much."

"What, not even Kaleb?" Cin jokes, but instantly loses her cheer once she realizes the answer to that is yes. Pomni had seen having a boyfriend as more of a chore than anything else. It was something you did to show your parents you were fine living on your own and to force yourself to leave your apartment every once in a while. Zooble thinks a dog would have been a better investment, but apparently, Pomni's apartment building had been pet-free.

"If her manager told her, then there's no reason for me to stay anything, right?" Cin says finally. "Look, sorry if you were really hung up on me, but sometimes when you have a near death experience like that, you start to think about what you really want out of life. You just weren't important enough to make the list."

Kaleb's mouth hangs open in surprise.

"Wow," he says. "That's cold, even for you."

Cin gives him one of her most annoying smiles as he walks away.

"I'm sorry," Pomni says. "I just… I couldn't pretend like meant something to me after everything. If I didn't leave, we would have broken up, and he would have forgotten all about me, so—I mean, it's not like I suddenly became that much more important to him because I almost died. And—And I didn't want him to feel like he suddenly had to stick around because something happened to me! I didn't want to feel like some poor helpless girl he thought he had to protect. It's not like I blocked him or anything. I mean, obviously, I didn't answer any of his texts when I was trapped, but if he wanted to reach out after that, he could have."

"You've got to start dating men you actually like," Zooble says.

"Sometimes I like it when a guy is a little unavailable," Pomni admits, fully aware of the reaction this will bring. "That means I don't have to spend as much time with them."

Whoever is in control of their body lets out an audible groan.

"Jesus," Cin says. "And I thought I hated my life."

"I didn't hate it," Pomni protests. "I just… I mean, people who wander around abandoned buildings for fun aren't usually the most satisfied."

But that's not fair, because Zooble had explored abandoned buildings too, and they had fucking loved being Xio. They think about Naru, who is so close but will never know Zooble came to see them because they don't have the body he remembers them in. He's got an eye on them now, probably making sure he doesn't have to step in if Kaleb comes back and causes a scene. He's good at diffusing situations like that. Would probably find a way to get Kaleb to apologize and shake their hand. Naru had told Xio once that the important thing to remember was that even an angry drunk is still a drunk, and that means they're stupid enough you can win an argument with them.

"Zooble?" Pomni asks. "Are you mad at me?"

Zooble's first instinct is to say no, but then they realize that, yes, they're actually furious. Pomni hadn't even been gone for that long. And here she was, letting all of her past friendships slip away like they meant nothing. She could have probably even gotten back together with Kaleb, if she had talked to him when they had all first gotten back instead of waiting for it to blow up like this.

"And tell him what?" Pomni demands. "Sorry for accidentally ghosting you, but I was stuck in a computer for a few months. Oh, and by the way, there's a few extra people in my head now, hope you're still cool with going out with me."

Zooble finishes off their drink and says nothing.

Pomni had resented her own normalcy. That's a fact Zooble knows. She went to work every day and came home, and it killed her inside to think that she would be trapped in the routine of a woman who had done well for herself. No one around her ever seemed to understand why she was so unsatisfied. She had money. She had freedom. What she didn't have was a reason to keep pushing forward.

Xio had had a reason. Xio had refused to live a life they wouldn't enjoy. But Alice So had only felt alive when she was alone.

"I'm a different person now," Pomni says. "I just… I didn't know any of them well enough to explain my trauma to them. I have you guys. And I have my family. That's enough, isn't it?"

No. It wouldn't be, not for Xio. Xio would have texted as many people as they could. Make jokes with old coworkers, asking if they could get their old job back. Talk to old friends, see if they had managed to save any of their old things. Their parents would have probably called the rest of their family over to welcome them home. Their grandparents would have flown in the day they got back from the hospital and insist they eat as much as possible to get their strength back up. Cousins they barely spoke to would be checking in, telling them they got Xio's number from their parents and asking if they needed anything. And their siblings—

Fuck. Zooble starts to cry. They've been trying not to think about their siblings because how do you deal with the fact that someone you've spent your entire life walking besides thinks you're dead and there's nothing you can do about it?

They're not drunk enough to be this upset. Or maybe they're too sad to be this sober. Zooble wants to get another drink, but they still have to drive home after this. The breakdown they're having isn't so bad that they're willing to get a DUI about it, or worse.

They just feel so homesick sometimes. They want to drive to their parents' house, but there's no way they'd welcome a stranger inside. Especially not one claiming to be their child. That's just too much. What would they even say? "I know you don't know who I am, but I just realized I need you in my life too much to go even a second longer without you"?

They used to want to be famous. It had always been a dream of their's to have people remember their name. Now even using it for themself just felt like dragging around a corpse. Xio Fuentes was forgotten. The only thing they had left behind was enough of a mystery for true crime bloggers to badger their parents about. Fuck, if they showed up out of the blue, they'd probably assume Zooble was one of them, trying to use their trauma for clicks.

They're leaving the bar now. It takes Zooble a second to register they're not the one in charge anymore.

"I don't believe that anyone who made someone as wonderful as you would abandon you like that," Gangle says. "You're so amazing. How could they not want to see you?"

Gangle drives away.

"I can't," Zooble begs. "I'm not ready."

"Honey, you'll never be ready," Gangle tells them. Their eyes blur with tears again. Gangle lets them fall freely as they turn onto the highway. "But you need to do this if you're ever going to let yourself be happy."

They can't argue with that. They want to, but Gangle's right. The two of them are tied together. She will always be Zooble's red string of fate. She knows the storm that's been brewing inside them. If Gangle says it's time, it's time.

"How am I supposed to come back into their lives and just act like nothing happened?" Zooble asks. "I gave up on the body they gave me."

They had always planned on leaving parts of it behind. Maybe get top surgery, or go on hormones for a bit, but they always wanted to be recognizable. Their strongest hope in the world had been that one day, they'd have cultivated their style so impossibly specific that everyone walking down the street would go, "Oh. That must be Xio. That can't be anyone but them." Another dream of their's that's dead now. Mo and Cass are the only ones who can tell Zooble apart from Cin, and those are still Cin's people.

"You didn't give up on anything," Gangle says gently. "You just did what you could so you could come home."

They should have let Gangle help them with their letters. She'd always been better at writing endings.

Gangle pulls into the driveway of Xio's childhood home, next to their older sister's car. She must be visiting for the weekend. Zooble wonders if she's been doing that more, now that they're gone.

"You're not doing this alone," Gangle tells them. Zooble takes a deep breath. They get out of the car together. Walk up to the front door, past the garden Xio planted but never took care of.

When they knock on the door, their mom answers. She looks just how Zooble remembers her, which is a silly thing to think, considering they've only been gone for three years, but it makes Zooble want to cry again. There's a hundred things they want to say but what comes out of their mouth is just—

"You kept my plants."

Xio's mom looks at them, confused. Her mouth opens, and Zooble rushes to speak again, because they know what she'll say and it'll break them if their mother asks who they are.

"I wanted to see you as soon as I got back," Zooble says, the words coming out all in one breath. "Something terrible and magical happened to me and it turned me into a different person in so many ways. I needed to let you know I was safe, but I wasn't sure how to get you to believe it. I didn't even know how I could get you to believe I was me. And if you didn't recognize me, then I wouldn't recognize myself, either. But I wouldn't have made it this far without you. And I didn't—I don't want to go any further without you, either. You have to recognize my soul, don't you? Because it came from you."

"Tell her about the flowers," Gangle says. Zooble closes their eyes.

"I wasn't planning on coming here now," they admit. "I was going to make you something, to prove it was me. I thought—you really liked those flowers I made you, when I got super into origami in middle school. You kept on giving me all these different colored papers and telling me to make you a bouquet."

Zooble can see it in their head now. They could have made a collage. All their flowers, glued together with all the words they should have said. It would have been beautiful. A much better gift to receive than a stranger sobbing on your front steps.

"I've been learning how to crochet, too," Zooble says. "I could have made you pot holders. I could have put Pupcasso's face on them—Dad would have liked that. I know how upset he was when that dog died."

Xio's mom takes in a deep breath.

"Xio…?" she says. Her voice is fragile. Like she wants to believe, but can't wrap her head around how this might be true. Zooble opens their eyes.

"Yeah, Mom," they say. "It's kind of a long story, but it's me."

Immediately, Zooble is pulled into a tight hug.

"How?" Mom demands.

"I don't think you're going to believe everything that's happened." Zooble laughs. "But I'll tell you, if you'll let me."

"Please." Mom releases them from her hug, but still keeps an arm around Zooble's shoulder, like she thinks they'll disappear if she moves inside. "I'll tell your father to make us some coffee. Come in. Tell me everything."

So Zooble follows her inside.

And Xio goes home.