Perhaps it was the coward's way out, but when, in the morning, her mom offered to call her off school for one more day, Maya readily agreed. She just wasn't ready to deal with people on the whole yet, and luckily for her, her mother was a huge advocate for mental health, and thus, mental health days, and agreed. Riley had left that morning with only the smallest of pouts, especially since Katy had been sure to whip up one heck of a breakfast - way more fancy than Topanga would even think about making during the week - and thus it was a well fed and sugar fueled Riley who skipped out the door to meet her father who had agreed to come get her, with all the books and other miscellaneous things she hadn't thought to pick up the night before.

Her mother had left her about an hour later to head to work, and with Shawn off on assignment for a few days more, Maya had the apartment to herself, and boy was she thankful for it. She started off simple, with a hot shower and a face mask squirrelled from her mother's supply. That and a cup of hot cocoa while curled up on the couch watching god-awful cable television was more than enough to relax her, and so she spent a large part of the morning there, at some point dozing (after setting aside the now empty cup) before her stomach woke her with a grumble. Lunch was left over breakfast and then, finally, Maya re-entered her bedroom, hesitating in the doorway.

She was more than a little glad that Shane hadn't come over here too frequently so that there werent't too many memories of him in here to colour her view of her bedroom, but there were emotions attached. Sitting on the bed as she tried to single-handedly detangle her hair, because yes her shoulder only ached slightly now but she didn't want to risk using it more than she had to until the requisite week of babying it had passed, she couldn't help but dwell on the fact that she had spent many a night cross legged on the bed talking to Shane, laughing over nothing or else sharing whatever wisdom their fifteen year old selves knew. Well, she amended, giving up on even attempting a braid, those were the early days, weeks, and month or two.

Those good times shifted, and gone were the amusing, good natured conversations and in their place were uncomfortable ones that left her wanting to get off the phone as soon as possible. Oh it wasn't anything he did or even her, it just waas her emotions, her guilt at talking to Shane just a half hour or so after Lucas had left, feigning interest in Shane's theatre productions, fielding his requests that they spent even more time together because the more they did, the more suffocated she felt. These were feelings she could only now clearly defined, and she sighed, making a promise to herself that she would never let things go so far again with anyone. It just wasn't worth it.

Laying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, Maya took stock of what she was feeling. Crying it out in her mother's arms had helped a lot. She didn't feel crushed and overwhelmed with emotion, though, at the same time she knew that she probably should be feeling a lot more than she currently did. She certainly didn't feel sad - well not too sad that is - and, if she were perfectly honest with herself, the main emotion she felt was just relief, pure relief. If this hadn't happened she would be in school, on lunch break, if she were lucky in the art room with Liam after successfully dodging Shane's attempts to get her to have lunch with him and his friends. For a while she and Liam had taken to joining her friends in the cafeteria, but for her part that meant taking extra precautions, not sitting next to Lucas, not talking too much to him or give into her desire to physically tease him because undoubtedly Shane or his friends would be looking on. She hated having to restrain herself. It put a damper on everything and just wasn't worth it and so, gradually, she and Liam had once again claimed the art room as their own respite and she settled for hanging out with her friends outside of school and Shane and his friends' watchful gaze.

Well, there should be no more of that, she assumed, turning to curl in a ball, or rather she hoped so. A small of her doubted that that was the case. She had had more than enough laughs in the bathroom at crying girls or witnessing confrontations between girls, and, unless she was seriously wrong, she could see Kira and Stacy trying to instigate something, that is, if Kira wasn't already trying to get her hooks into Shane. It probably would work in her favour if Shane moved on quickly. She would feel less guilty about everything. That last thought gave her a pause. Moving on. What exactly did that mean for her? She couldn't help but think about what Shane had said, that, in his summation, the vast majority of their relationship had been him fighting against Lucas for her, and that how in the end it hadn't mattered, that no matter how much he had fought for her, in the end Lucas had won.

She didn't agree with that, not fully anyway. Yes, she had to acknowledge that Shane's issues with Lucas had played a large role in a lot of their issues, but Lucas had only brought up some aspects to Shane, his beliefs and his personality that were untenable to her. Yes, she had been wrong in many ways, she would never claim to be perfect, but, some of the things she had done, some of the decisions she had made such as hiding how much she interacted with Lucas from him, that had only be done to protect Shane - or rather to have stopped him from blowing up at her. It was a means to an end because she had not wanted to lose Lucas. Oh, she had tried to push Lucas away herself early on, but she just couldn't. She was drawn to him, almost inexorably so, and the more she tried to fight against it, the more she tried to dedicate herself to Shane and only Shane, the more that seemed to work against her, and instead brought her even closer to Lucas.

And now… What was the now? Technically speaking things were fine now. She was single - newly single, and as of four days ago, so was Lucas. Riley and him were no longer a couple and both were okay with that, more than okay, and more than that, Riley was now wrangling with her own feelings for Farkle, even if that was something she had not quite yet vocalised. What did that mean for her? For her and Lucas? Shane wasn't wrong. She did have feelings for Lucas, and as much as deep down she knew what those feelings were, it also wasn't something she herself (perhaps like Riley) wanted to admit to just yet. How could she? She had spent so long, nearly two years at this point, stamping those feelings down. Did she like Lucas? Yes. Did she love him? Yes? At least she thought she did. It definitely was something Shane had believed. Love as a concept seemed more complicated a concept than she had first originally understood it to be; it wasn't a word she threw around lightly now as much as she had in middle school, and even in the first semester when she'd told Lucas to go to Riley and tell her that she loved him. So, did she love Lucas? To herself she could admit that she probably did. But, it was a love that had evolved with it. She definitely did not love him the same way she had when she had walked away from the triangle. This was a different love, a stronger love, dare she even admit, true love. But was that something she wanted to express to him right now? Show to the world? She wasn't sure.

It didn't seem right. If she were more reckless, or if the situation were as simple as it had been for Farkle, Smackle and Zay, she and Lucas would probably have already been together. But their situation wasn't the same. Zay had been completely respectful of Farkle and Smackle's relationship. Smackle, long after she had realised that she had interest in Zay, and a deeper, more engrossing interest than that which she had had with Farkle at that, had still thought long and hard about it before coming to the conclusion she had. Farkle too had been grappling with his own feelings, and the realisation that while he did love Smackle, perhaps he didn't quite love her in the way that made staying in a relationship with her made sense. And they had made it work. Weeks later it still worked, still was as seamless as ever. Nothing seemed to have changed among the three of them and yet so much had. Smackle and Farkle still had their club meetings and he made sure she got home safe and whenever there was some science thing or another, they went together. Zay, and Farkle (with Lucas) still hung out as much as they used to and there was not a hint of animosity there. Perhaps, the biggest change was how Smackle tended to sit by Zay's side with a bit more frequency now that they were in public, and Zay had started to do extra little things for her like carrying her books and trying to understand a bit more of her world, but that was that. A natural, seamless transition.

And while that was nice and all, for a number of reasons she didn't think Lucas and her would have as smooth a transition, even if he did still want to be with her in that way. For one there was the fact that she doubted it would be right of her to jump directly into a new relationship. Lucas would not be the typical rebound but still the best way (as she had heard from other, more experienced people) to deal with the fall out of a broken relationship was definitely not to just hop right into a next one. Moreover, she still had the Riley factor to deal with. Even though she and Lucas were done, and, initiated by her, Maya still knew that it would be problematic to just go after her best friend's ex. That right there had the potential to be an even greater disaster than the triangle could ever be. Riley could be weird about certain things, and until Maya was certain that Lucas would not be one of those said things she was better off not trying to rock the boat that way. And, perhaps most importantly, Maya knew that she still had, to a certain extent, be respectful to Shane. Immediately getting together with Lucas would prove each and every of his words correct, and she just couldn't do that to him. Shane was already dealing with the fall-out of hurting her on top of their break-up, and, if their last conversation was anything to go by, he seriously needed someone to talk to. She felt bad for her part in that and she knew that it would not be good for him to see her and Lucas together in that way, not yet at least. She had done so many things wrong to Shane, if this was at least one thing she could do right, then she would do that.

The rest of the week proved to be far from easy for Maya, resolution in mind or not. For one, her mother would not let her out of the house without the sling, no matter how much she protested that it would not be needed. It would draw attention, she argued. She would make sure she remembered not to move it about unnecessarily, she promised, but nope, her mother proved unmoveable and thus she had left home with it. And, of course, once Riley caught sight of it, she ensured (and on top of that passed the word on to their friends) that she was not to be without it until the weekend. And boy did they take glee in making sure that that indeed happened. It did, as she predicted, draw the attention she didn't want. Oh, very few of her classmates openly commented on it, but she did notice the dirty looks thrown to a visibly melancholy Shane's way more than once. She let it be though, ducking her head herself and not even bothering to try to say a word otherwise. It wouldn't change a thing; her classmates were just too protective of her to not let things be, and so Shane, and to a certain extent, her, would just have to weather things out until the next teenage drama tore their attention away.

She hadn't lasted long in glee club. Like the first time she had been injured she had been reminded that she was still free to attend, she wouldn't be made to dance. Except, she barely made it through the meeting. Besides the discomfort between her and Shane, it was also blatantly apparent that Dylan was not at all happy with his younger brother and was cold to the point of vicious with him, tearing him apart for the slightest of errors (that she could not help but feel her presence was causing) until finally, after the fifth time, she had excused herself for a bathroom break, and later all messaged Emily to tell her to consider her withdrawn from the club. She didn't want it to come down to a her versus Shane situation, she had reasoned. Shane needed the club more than she did, he was the one with Broadway dreams after all, and truthfully, she was fine with singing just being a hobby for her. There was no getting out of Glee as an actual class, but there were a handful of other students taking the class for credit who weren't in the club and she was okay adding to their numbers. If this made things even a bit smoother for Shane, it was an easy sacrifice to make.

She also, thankfully, hadn't had much in the way of a confrontation with any of Shane's friends. His best friend, Micah had given her what amounted to an indifferent look when she and Liam had passed him in the corridors, but Kira...if looks could kill she would be six feet under already, but the teenager had done nothing save that as she passed, and she truthfully hoped that it would stay that way. She had had more than enough interactions with that girl to last a lifetime. She could do without one more.

Mr. Jackson's classroom proved to be the respite it always did, and she was more than grateful that, after sliding her a candy bar her first day back, Mr. Jackson hadn't mentioned Shane or her absence, though she had no doubt he had heard what had happened. She knew why. The man had a speak first policy and unless something was truly detrimental, he was more than willing to wait for if or when those in his care chose to speak. So far she had had nothing to say on the matter and the man was respectful with that, and instead they spent their time together working the piece she would use in the art exhibit now just under a month away. She did have a back-up to fall back on. Despite Liam's declaration that they absolutely had to create something new, the teacher had reminded her that it would be perfectly fine of her to display one of the pieces that had won first place the semester before. She was glad for the back-up, but for now, she still wanted to see if she could create something new in time. Much like middle school there would be an art exhibition in the school at the end of the year (though a far more grander one) and she wanted to have as many options as possible to choose from.

Her art was something she threw herself into more and more in the coming weeks, taking the time she would have used for Shane and redirecting it into her work. And it was proving, so far, to be a quite fruitful endeavour and, even though there were still a few weeks left in the second semester she was pretty certain she had cemented a next set of A+s in the art classes she was taking. Mr. Jackson had already had a conversation with her that served as a sort of warning. Much like athletes, he had told her that art-inclined students tended to pour all of their efforts into those streams while ignoring the classes that did not hold their interest. Maya could more than understand that. If she had had her way her time table would be full of art, music (and to a lesser extent, now more than ever) theatre. Oh History could stay, but the rest? She could easily do without them. But, she knew that that was not an option, and more than that, she had her friends and her mom and Shawn on her back. Her mom would be the first to admit that she had scrapped through high school and hadn't emerged on the other side with much in the form of a GPA, but as she kept insisting, she wanted better for Maya, and would not accept less than her best efforts. Oh her mother would never be someone who would berate her for a C or hell, even a D grade if that was the best Maya was capable of, but (and probably egged on by Topanga) if she knew she could do better? Well yeah, there would be hell to pay. His warning and the fear of disappointing her mother was enough to ensure that Maya still carved out enough time to keep on top of her work, but yeah, art was priority and it wasn't against the norm for her to be sporting some sort of paint smudge or to have dirty fingers from working with pens or pencils.

That didn't mean that she neglected her friends though. Now, more than ever, Maya knew she needed them. Free from Shane she was only now realising what she had been missing out on, how much she enjoyed curling up in the bay window with Riley and sometimes Smackle, and wasn't that a joy watching the teenager's confidence in her friendship with them blossom to the point that there was not a shadow of hesitation or fear of rejection on her face as she climbed through the window gracefully, now an expert at entering and exiting in one fluid movement without any risk to her head? It meant more time at Topanga's with all of them as a group, getting homework assistance from Farkle, joking around with Zay and teasing Lucas who, no matter how far she pushed, never lost that half-amused look of indulgence in his eyes as he let her be, or, on the few occasions where she successfully managed to get under his skin, pull her into his side with a sudden, strong, yet still gentle grip into his side. That move on its own was enough to draw a startled little squeak from her (and though she would deny it) a faint flush to her face. But that would not last long, especially not when he would, more often than not, start a gentle caress of his hand running up and down the length of her arm, a soothing gesture that within minutes always rid her of her desire to rib and cause mischief because why cause chaos when she could bask in the affection, instead? They hadn't quite had a conversation about each other as yet, but it wasn't something that seemed to hang over them, and he didn't feel like broaching it and neither did she. They were as they had always been to each other and she was quite fine with that.

Maya also herself fully into wedding planning with her mother, scrutinising every detail with her, tagging along on shopping trips and fittings and all those other details, even as, whenever her mother was not looking, she and Riley's mom shot secretive amused looks, because her mother loved to claim that she could read the both of them in and out, yet, up to now had no idea, that they had a scheme of their own quietly being executed behind the scenes. Therefore, all in all, it was a busy time for Maya, the good sort of busy, and besides her lingering feelings with how things had ended between her and Shane, there was a lot of good and happiness occuring in her life for her to focus on, and it was what she chose to focus on, the light and not the dark, the happiness in the world and not all the darker aspects of it. She could be happy, quite happy with the state of her life if she focussed on it, which is exactly what she was doing and hoped to continue for as long as life let her, even if that lasted only a little while.

Riley frowned as she got to her locker, shifting her books to one hand so that she could enter her code into the combination locker. The lock wasn't closed, and while it was far from the first time she had forgotten to secure it (though her friends were trying to instill in her how much more important it was that she do so now that they had left the safety of middle school for the more mucky depths that was high school), she was definitely sure she had done so that morning. After all, she had a small blossoming blood boil on the side of a fingertip from where her finger had snagged in the lock that morning as she had tried to close it. Even now, thinking about it, the spot on her finger throbbed so she knew she was not crazy; she had locked it. Maybe Maya had unlocked it? It was possible, though Maya was usually ridiculously careful when it came to locking up after herself.

Riley carefully fingered the lock, examining it, though she could not detect anything untoward about it. She finally shook her head, deciding that she was being silly and that she better hurry up because her dad was probably done with detention at this point and waiting for her to meet him in his classroom so that they could go home. And so, she opened the door. Now, no-one, from her family to her friends would ever even kid themselves by considering her even remotely athletic (and having endured what was a hellish rest of middle school on the cheerleading squad which inevitably left her with more bruises and scrapes that she dared to admit), but Riley was more than glad she was quick enough to jump back when something explored from her locker the second it opened. That was the only reason she avoided being hit by some of the green goo that her locker had been holding in.

"What on earth?" she gasped out, looking on in shock as the goo poured out onto the floor. She could see the remnants of what she believed to be a bag in the midst of it. Opening the locker had somehow ripped it open. Even as the stuff poured out, Riley could not help but be glad that whoever had done this had been kind enough to shove most of her belongings (though some were ridiculously bent) into nooks and crannies before they had done this. None of her stuff was (badly) damaged and she was pretty certain the few books that were soiled would be relatively easily cleaned. Any loose pages were probably gone for though.

"Dang, who did you piss off?"

Riley spun around, surprised to find Liam standing a few feet away, looking from her to the locker.

"It's probably just an April fool's joke," Riley rationalised, even as she turned back to the mess. "Though it isn't very funny."

"First of all," the sophomore said, coming closer, "April first was three days ago. Second, and, as much as it pains me to say it, you're well liked, a teacher's kid, and your dad isn't a douche. People wouldn't target you without reason."

"It's not that bad," Riley rationalised, even as she moved to set her books down a good distance away from the mess. "And people don't like me, not like they used to in middle school anyway."

"They like you better than me," he answered though he sounded slightly distracted.

Glancing at him, Riley saw that he was quickly typing on his phone as he spoke to her. Riley took the time to look at him, actually look at him, realising that this was the first time that she was having anything remotely similar to a conversation with him, an insult free one to boot. Was he feeling okay? Probably not, she acknowledged a moment later. He didn't look good, and she didn't mean that in a bad way. He was usually dressed in a weird assortment of clothes that somehow still worked for him, but right now his clothes seemed wrinkly, dirty even, as was his hair. And his face…staring at him carefully Riley doubted that his eyes were always that sunken, that red, and that the circles under his eyes almost black were a norm for him. He seemed tired, really, really tired, and, as much as she wasn't sure about him as a person, Riley found herself a bit worried.

Before she could comment though, he spoke. "Blondie's getting stuff from janitorial."

"Huh?"

"I messaged her," he said, waving his phone as if it should have been obvious. "She'll be here soon. Let's see what we can salvage."

"You don't have to help," she said reflexively as he set down his belongings and came over, wrinkling his nose only slightly at the goo puddle, before he reached in and started to scoop out the excess, adding to the floor's mess.

"I don't," he agreed, and Riley noted that his voice sounded different, gravelly, tired. "But given the look on your face this is your first time dealing with bullying. Do me a favour and wait till Blondie gets here if you want to cry, huh? I ain't drying nobody's tears."

And that gruff, dismissive demeanour was a lot closer to normal, and it almost relaxed her, strange as that may seem. "I have been bullied before," she admitted, reluctantly thinking back to those painful few weeks the year prior. "It was cyber-bullying. I was too cheerful."

Liam paused, a handful of goo in his hand as he turned to watch her assessingly. "Obviously it didn't change a damn thing," he finally said, turning back. "Or is this your new normal? I hope it is because if you try to tell me you were worse than this I'm gonna add some barf to this mess."

"I didn't change," Riley answered, after a moment's thought, ignoring the backhanded insults he was throwing her way. "I tried to, but my friends wouldn't let me. Maya wouldn't let me. She said I didn't have to change for anyone, and so I didn't."

"And I guess everything was rainbows and butterflies afterwards, right," he said with a sneer. "Of course it would. People like you never suffer for too long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, feeling oddly attacked. "Did you change because of your bullies? You shouldn't have."

Riley almost regretted her words when Liam shot her a death glare for one long moment. "There's a difference between somebody telling you to off yourself on the internet and you ending up in the hospital multiple times with various things broken. If you ever happen to end up in that state call me and we'll compare notes about whether or not you're better off changing yourself due to bullying."

She could only stare at him, astounded by the pure bitterness in his words. She had no words to say in answer to that. After a moment though, Liam sighed, muttered something to himself and then wiped his hands off on his jeans. "Anyway," he said, "whoever did this hates you more than they hate me."

"Who hates Riley?"

Riley turned to see Maya turning into the corridor they were on, dragging a janitor's cart with cleaning supplies behind her. "What the hell?" she continued as she reached them, staring at the mess. "Who did this?"

"Someone who dislikes rainbow and sunshine here a bit less than they dislike me," Liam said, moving to recline against a neighbouring locker.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maya asked even as she started to offload equipment, passing a scoop to her before taking up a broom herself. "Let's scoop up as much as we can first okay?"

"Nothing," he said and with a level of aggression that had her flinching. She turned, wide-eyed to Maya. Unlike her though, Maya didn't seem at all surprised, nor phased, by the venom.

"What are you hiding?" she said instead, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him.

"My innate disdain for society," the teenager huffed, his tone though, considerably less aggrieved. "Anyway," he said, moving to collect his stuff, "you're more than capable of handling this mess so I'm out of here."

"We're not done with this conversation," Maya said, but the guy didn't answer. Already he was halfway down the corridor. It was as if he couldn't wait to leave. "Dammit," she cursed, shaking her head. She continued to mutter to herself for a long moment before she looked up, offering her a rueful smile. "Sorry about that, Riles," she said. "Let's just get this cleaned up, kay?"

Maya was worried about it. She could tell that fact even though it was clear that she was trying to put aside that worry for now. "I wonder who did this?" Maya asked, as they worked in tandem, getting everything cleaned up. "It's so stupid."

"A late April's fool joke?" Riley offered again as an explanation weakly. Much like the sophomore before, Maya shook her head, seeming to not agree.

"This is excessive," Maya said, as they moved to sorting out the locker itself now that the floor was decently clean. "I mean it's not the meanest prank someone could pull. If they really wanted to mess you up they could have used paint, but still, it's annoying. Who would want to prank you? You didn't go and pet someone's puppy without permission that I don't know about Honey?" Maya asked, giving her a gently teasing look.

"Not to my knowledge," Riley said, thinking it over. "I don't like this, Maya," she admitted, sighing as she discarded some papers that weren't worth the effort to salvage. Maya didn't answer immediately, and looking at her, Riley found her carefully fingering a spot higher up in the locker where there was a small splash of goo that had already dried. Maya was carefully poking at it now, contemplatively. "What is it, Maya?" she asked.

"I think some of this stuff is on my locker door," Maya admitted, her brows furrowed. "I saw it earlier but I just wiped it off."

"They were trying to goo you too?"

"Maybe," Maya said, with a bit of uncertainty. "I mean my locker jams all the time. Maybe they couldn't get it open."

That made sense, Riley knew. Maya had long since mastered the three knock combo she needed to do after she removed her lock to unjam the locking mechanism so that the door would swing open. If someone had gotten the lock off but didn't know that trick it would have taken them ages - if at all - to get the door open. And if it were someone wanting to pull a prank without getting noticed, they would have quickly given up. But...it was strange. Coincidence would have been them simply moving on to a different locker. But for them to move on from Maya to her. That was strange wasn't it?

"Liam," Maya said softly, almost to herself. "I know his combo," she said, looking at her. "When we're done here I want to check his locker."

"Why?"

"Because I don't put it past him to not say if this happened to him."

"Oh."

"Yeah," she said simply.

Maya's assumption though, proved false, because no matter how carefully she inspected the guy's locker twenty minutes later, even scraping underneath the metal of the shelf in search of anything he might have missed if he had gone about de-gooing his own locker, there was simply no sign of anything. She looked far from mollified though, Riley could tell even as she closed the locker and re-attached the lock.

"Let's go tell your dad what happened, Riley," Maya said. "See what he suggests. I don't like this."

"Okay," she agreed, and the pair headed off to do just that.

Cursing softly Liam flung his blanket off himself and got off the bed. Yup, for yet another night he couldn't get the voices in his head to shut up long enough so that he could get anything resembling real sleep. Worse yet, he had downed as much of his Uncle's whisky as he could without the man noticing - and since it wasn't yet Friday, the one night of the week the man allowed himself a few pours to unwind with while his wife flitted about with a glass of wine she topped up ever so often, he had a good few days to wait before he could skim from the bottle again, knowing that his uncle would not have an exact idea of how much should be in the bottle come Saturday morning. So, he was shit out of luck on the sleep front, but, to be honest, the longer this was going on the less he cared. Maybe being exhausted had finally become his normal state of being, or else maybe sleeplessness was his karma. He would not have cared so much if it wasn't for the fact that not sleeping added hours of consciousness to his days, extra hours in which his mind would dredge up every last thing he would have rather ignored and replayed it for him, or else whispered continuously all those little fears he had over and over until it brought his temper to the edge, and often now, if he were to admit it, he tethered over that edge and lashed out at those around him.

He pulled his curtain back to let in the light of the streets. It didn't do much, certainly gave less illumination than all those billboards and business signs that dotted Maya's street did, but it gave him enough light that he didn't have to turn on his overhead and draw the attention of anyone passing by for a late night bathroom trip or drink of water. He settled down on his beanbag and propped his head on folded arms, staring out into the mostly empty streets, thinking and yet not thinking if that made any sense for long moments before consciously trying to focus on something.

His room was a mess, so messy that even Maya had commented on it over their video call earlier. He had done little more than flip her off then, but turning enough to survey his room he agreed that perhaps things had gotten away from him. His aunt had already scolded him about it one time too many and he was pretty certain that one of these days his uncle would come in to lay down the law but he didn't care. There wasn't much he cared about anymore, and day by day that feeling was getting worse, not better. He hadn't even been working on anything art-wise even though he had been the one initially harping on Maya that they needed to create new and even better art pieces for the exhibition. He didn't have the zeal for it. He had dunked a paintbrush in water one night a few weeks ago, and there it had sat ever since.

Besides, his mother had always hated his love of art. Called it childish and girly. It was one thing apparently for a toddler to scribble all over the place with crayons and pencils, but past a certain age little boys were supposed to be bent on making havoc, and when he had failed to make that 'natural' transition, she had snapped each crayon and broke each pencil in front his face before making him through his colouring books away himself. His dad had been away on a trip during that time, and when he returned he had never said anything to the man, didn't see the point to, and instead just had started to wander over to the park more and more, the very park he sort of had an itch to go visit now but knew better than to try to sneak out to right now. His fire escape was rickety and noisy. On a weekend it was worth the risk to sneak out that way, but in the dead of a weekday night where such noises would travel more easily? Nope. No thanks.

Besides, he needed to start weaning himself from such practices. His mother's apartment lacked any windows save the one in her bedroom anyway. There would be no escape that way, and given the fact that, despite what everyone else was saying, he knew he would end up living with her once again, he was better off getting himself in gear for what was inevitable... Well, inevitable if his plans fell through. They were still in the works though, early stages yet, and he was more than a little relieved that there was still time left before D-day arrived. He was at a cross-road for which option he wanted to choose. Both were pretty drastic, and though one when he had conceived of it had seemed far fetched, the more time that passed, the more that feeling of tiredness and dread settled upon him, the louder the voices in his mind got, the more appealing option number two was beginning to seem. But he hadn't gotten to that point.

Yet.

A/N: 2019 was a terrible year for me in may respects. 2020 seems to be a terrible year for the world. The story will be finished.