[Making editing changes to KP already, and I'm just like "damn, my sentences had no variety whatsoever, this is actually challenging, tf".

To he honest, I didn't get as much done for this story as I wanted to during spring break. I'm afraid I'll have to take another break soon but we'll see about that. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! :D]

Stay Creepy, My Friends!~

Chapter 14

Reese's POV

Thursday, after school, was spent at the local library. Most of the time, I lounged on one of the squishy, leather couches while Ben sat at a table, surrounded by worksheets and a couple of notebooks.

"Okay," he mumbled, "I finished the Stats homework."

He handed me the papers and I took them to check it. All of the questions were given a boxed answer, but there was no work. He barely started the worksheets five minutes ago, without a calculator. It takes me at least ten minutes to finish one paper, with a calculator.

"It needs the work," I said, and handed the papers back.

He groaned and snatched them out of my fingers. "Damn math teachers and their stupid 'showing work'. Can't they just appreciate that the kids did this without murdering someone?"

"Education can be a bitch," I remarked.

"You're telling me...," he grumbled as he scribbled on the papers at a rapid pace.

From my angle, I could watch him lean over the table, staring down at the papers with an intent gaze. The locks of hair at the side of his face dangled. Sometimes he'd stick his tongue out a little or bite his lip as he worked. It was interesting watching his face. He never noticed me staring at him. Or maybe he did but didn't do anything to stop me.

A few minutes later, he gave me the work for me to check. Glossing over it once, I nodded and handed them back. "Now onto the essay."

"Ugh, I'm not good with literature...," he complained, smacking his hand on the papers and dragging them closer.

Smirking, I closed my eyes and put my hands behind my head to relax. As I listened to the sounds of faraway chatter of other people in the library, there was a tap on my arm.

"What's up?" I asked without opening my eyes.

Ben cleared his throat and questioned, "Did you read the essay prompt at all?"

"Nope, didn't want to see it or deal with it," I retorted immediately.

"Well," he added reluctantly, "it says to 'Invent a monster and describe it. Write where it lives, what it eats, and what it does'. Any ideas....?"

This time, I opened my eyes and glanced at Ben. I could already see the expecting look on his face. The moment he read the prompt, I already knew the perfect essay to write.

"It's easy," I murmured. "The monster I'll invent is.....a shadowy, black figure. Big, tall, strong."

Ben started jotting stuff down as I described my monster.

"My monster used to live in a house. A spacey house with...I don't know, a nice, green lawn? But now it lives in a cage, prowling and being bitter."

"Okay..." Ben stuck his tongue out again in concentration.

"He eats...pineapples," I said. "And drinks...alcohol. Any kind. He was never picky."

"He?" the blonde wraith questioned.

I stifled a chuckle and rephrased, "Sorry, 'it'. Forgot it's important to keep the correct pronoun. Anyway, where was I? Yeah, pineapples and alcohol. It could survive off those things for days."

After I waited for Ben to stop writing, I went on, "What does the monster do. Well, it...it preys on children. Little children who are innocent and vulnerable. And women. Can't forget it preyed on women. It loved hunting and catching its prey, like the act was a game, like it wasn't...chaotic."

"Is that all you want me to write...?"

Staring up at the white ceiling, I furrowed my brow and said, "Keep going until the space runs out."

"You're sure?"

Smirking, I replied, "Some extra credit wouldn't hurt, right?"

He chuckled quietly. "Yeah..."

"Continuing on... My monster preys on women and children. Its hunting pattern is erratic. Sometimes it'll ignore everything, while other times it'll attack because of a tiny noise. It's very sensitive, despite being so evil. My monster hunts for sport, too; loved doing it just for kicks. Now the best method of defense against it...is to hope. Hope that it gets tired; hope that it gets bored, or sobers up, or decides to leave to get away from its house with the nice, green lawn. But until that happens, it just hunts and feeds and hurts. Because it's a monster. Un puto demonio."

Ben stopped and murmured, "Want me to write that last sentence in?"

"No, leave it out. My teacher doesn't know Spanish for shit, but I wouldn't risk it," I said.

He handed me the paper and I took it to check the writing. Then, I gave it back and said, "Not exactly my writing, but I could always say I got lazy."

Ben placed the paper in my ELA notebook and stacked everything together. He was oddly quiet now, and I kept eyeing him to see what was wrong.

"The monster you described," he started in a soft tone of voice, "you didn't make it up, did you?"

Chuckling, I answered, "Why bother making a new one when there's already a monster I can use as inspiration?"

Ben finally glanced at me and managed a small smile. He got up from the table to sit on the edge of the leather couch, next to me. I laid and waited for him to say something, because the look on his face told me he had words to get out.

"Do you think that if your father hadn't been so horrible, you'd be different?" he asked, which wasn't what I was expecting.

I shrugged. "I'm sure I would've been a different person. Wouldn't have to relapse. Wouldn't have had to go to therapy that never worked. My family wouldn't have to work so many hours to make money for me to go to college. And my father would actually be here, being the dad I was missing my whole life. So yeah, many things would be different."

"Would you want to be different?" he inquired.

It was at that question that I stopped and only stared up at the ceiling. I thought about all those times I've been in therapy, lying down just like this while a doctor waited for me to talk. There's a remarkable memory of an incident when I was eight years old: I got angry when the therapist kept asking me questions about my dad, and I tried running out of the office. He wouldn't let me go, and kept telling me to calm down first. I pushed him, grabbed a picture frame, and threw it at his head. I don't remember the part about him getting a cut on his forehead, but that's what Mom told me I did to him. After that, I got a new therapist. Then more, until everyone realized they'd never work.

That therapist didn't have to be assaulted by some scrawny, eight-year-old brat just because some deadbeat father couldn't be a father. Same goes for Hunter, and Mom. They'd be different, maybe happier, than they are now. All those times I'm sure I let them down because I got into fights. All those moments spent trying to console Mom when she had her bouts of depression. All the times Hunter has had to let go of his childhood to be a role model for his punk, little brother. All those times I wish I could see Dad and beat his fucking brains out. So much has happened that I can never see things being different. But would I want to be?

"No," I finally responded. I could tell Ben was taken aback by my answer.

"No?" he murmured.

Shaking my head for more emphasis, I added, "I'd rather have suffered and become a stronger person for it, than have suffered nothing at all and be weak."

"You wouldn't be weak."

"I wouldn't be the me I am now," I said.

The blonde paused for a moment to think. The corner of his lips lifted and he said, "I suppose I shouldn't try to change your mind. If you had been a different Reese, maybe we wouldn't even know each other."

"Exactly," I replied. "I'm sure if I was a different Reese, I'd have more friends, but I'd rather have you. You're a hell of a lot more important, in my opinion."

Ben chuckled and murmured, "Oh, you flatter me, peanut butter cup."

"It's not flattery, it's the truth," I stated.

The blonde grabbed a throw pillow and squeezed it close to his chest. "I'm glad it is, then," he said, grinning warmly.

All of a sudden, Ben hit the pillow against my face and said, "Now that I'm done with your homework, can we leave? It reeks of nerd here."

"You're a nerd," I shot back as I snatched the pillow out of his hands. Quickly, I sat up and wrapped one arm around his head, trapping him in my grasp.

"You think you can strike me once with a pillow and expect nothing in return?" I hissed lightheartedly.

"Try me, pretty boy," Ben challenged and I whacked the pillow right into his face in retaliation. The blonde laughed on the way down onto the couch, and I leaped onto him.

"Fight me," I taunted him as I repeatedly bumped the throw pillow onto his face. He tried covering his head but to no avail, so all he could do was giggle and squirm.

"Excuse me, can you boys keep it down?" a voice piped up and I looked over to see an older lady with a stern expression on her features. She was the librarian, I remembered.

Before I could reply to her, Ben shoved his hands under my shirt and yanked it up. I yelped, smacked his hands away and pressed the pillow against his face. "Sorry, ma'am," I chimed, still holding the pillow on Ben's head, "we'll be leaving soon...!"

The librarian flashed us a weirded-out look, but nodded and walked away. When she was out of sight, I peeled the pillow away from Ben and flicked his forehead with my fingers.

"Ow," he murmured.

"Pervert, don't do that in front of someone," I chided.

"So, any other time would be good," he remarked mischievously and I threw the pillow onto his face one last time.

After I gathered up the notebooks and papers on the table, I put them in my backpack and picked out Ben's car keys from his jacket pocket. He whined in protest, but when he tried grabbing them from my hand, he only rolled over onto the floor.

"I'm driving the Chevelle," I claimed, spinning the car keys in my hand by the ring.

"Again? Fine, fine," the blonde wraith replied behind me as we made our way out of the room. We checked out at the front, then strolled out of the building to the parking lot. The black Chevelle waited for us, standing out from all of the contemporary cars around it, especially with those silly fuzzy dice. It was then that I wondered how and why Ben got it.

"How exactly does a dork like you get a badass looking car?" I questioned once the both of us were inside the cabin.

Ben flipped open his sunglasses and handed them to me. "Would you believe me if I said I stole it from a mafia lord?"

I put the sunglasses on and turned the engine over. "To be honest, probably. Tell me the story anyway."

"My pleasure," he purred as I exited the parking lot and drove down the street.

...

Later, Mom made spaghetti for dinner. While Hunter set up the table, since it was his turn today, I was sitting on the couch going through the photos on my phone. I have under two hundred pictures in my photos, and most of them are memes I've taken screenshot of to show Hunter, or Ben (though Ben has seen just about every meme there is so it's almost pointless to impress him). Among the sparse pictures were some selfies of Hunter and I (can it be called a selfie with more than one person?), a homecoming picture that Mom begged me to keep (the baby blue tux was something I almost regret), a few photos of me and Mom, and, of course, the two pictures of me and Ben. I found myself staring at those two photos more than the rest, for whatever reason. A sense of contentedness washed over me the longer I kept my eyes on them, until suddenly I was interrupted by Hunter snatching my phone.

"Ooooh, who's that?" he cooed as he held the phone up high.

"Hey, give that back...!" I grumbled, getting on my knees on the sofa to reach Hunter's hand.

"When did you meet a Link cosplayer?" he inquired as he waved the phone around to keep avoiding me.

"I just did, now give me back my phone...!" I urged, going as far as clawing onto my brother's shirt to get it.

"Wait, are you next to Gapstow Bridge in Central Park?" he awed at the other picture.

"It's Photoshop!" I blurted, still clawing.

As Hunter smirked down at me, dainty hands yanked the phone out of his grasp. The both of us whirled around to see Mom looking down at the screen.

"What's this all about? And who is this?" she asked, turning away from us so we couldn't lunge for the phone.

"Mom, he's just a friend," I answered nervously.

"A friend?" The moment she turned to look at me, her gaze lit up.

Taken aback, I managed a small smile and replied, "Y-Yes."

She beamed and inquired, "What's his name?"

"His name is...Ben," I answered hesitantly. Out of the corner of my eye, Hunter flashed me a surprised look, and I knew he had recalled the save file that was on Majora's Mask.

"Does he go to your school?"

For a moment I thought, then responded, "Yes...?"

"When did you two meet?"

Remembering the first encounter I had with Ben, I chuckled and said, "I don't know. Weeks ago?"

"Ah, how nice. He looks like a sweet boy." Then, her entire face brightened in the way that told me she just got an exciting--and possibly embarrassing--idea. "You should invite him over for dinner tomorrow!"

Oh god. "N-No, I don't think he'd--."

"Aw, don't be a mean friend, Reese's pieces. Invite him," Hunter chimed in with a devilish grin. My eye twitched at him but I maintained a decent smile.

"He's a busy guy, so I'm not sure if he'd be able to come over," I said as causally as I could.

"Well, make plans then," Mom chirped as she tossed my phone back to me. I fumbled to catch it in my hands, and by the time I did, Hunter and I were called to the table to eat.

After dinner, I washed the dishes and then went to my room. As soon as I entered, Hunter popped out from his bedroom and slipped in. The look on his face was enough to make me groan.

"So, what's the deal with this friend of yours?" he asked with that snarky mien on his face.

"There's no deal," I muttered.

"Why were you so nervous to admit him to Mom, then?"

"I wasn't nervous, I just wanted my phone back," I lied.

"Sure," he sang, then suddenly placed me in a headlock and fell onto my bed with me.

"Hunter, c'mon, dude," I grumbled against his forearm.

"Why're you so embarrassed of your friend, Reese?"

"I'm not!" I argued.

"Blushies. I see blushies," he taunted me as I struggled.

"What are you trying to get at, weirdo?" I hissed, smacking his arm.

"I don't know, you tell me, weirder weirdo," he said, now only lazily laying on top of me.

Finally, after squirming under him, I shoved him off and said, "Look, I didn't want to tell you and Mom because..."

While I paused, Hunter leaned forward with a look of anticipation. "Because...?"

"Because if the friendship didn't work out, I didn't want to disappoint you two," I finished, though it was just a front. Honestly, I just didn't want them to eventually find out Ben is a perverted, ghost boy.

Hunter's expression faltered and he murmured, "That's all?"

I nodded. He chuckled and clapped my back. "Aye, chiquito--."

"Don't be Mom."

"Aye, chiquito, mi lindo, bonito," he taunted as he pinched my cheeks, imitating Mom, "you shouldn't worry about that. What's more important in this situation is your friend. Mom only wants the best for you, and she thinks having friends is one way. But, if your friends end up being assholes, then fuck 'em, because they're not the best for you. Hopefully, your Link cosplayer doesn't end up being an asshole."

"Just an F-Y-I, if you meet him, don't call him Link. He gets really crabby about it."

Hunter cocked an eyebrow. "Then why is he dressed up--?"

"I forced him to. Long story," I stated briefly.

He shook his head and continued, "Anyway, don't be weird and ask Ben to come over. If he says no, there's always next time, yeah?"

"O-Okay," I mumbled. My brother ruffled my hair before standing and walking out of my room.

For a few moments, I just sat at the edge of my bed, contemplating if I should ask Ben about the dinner. Maybe he will get busy and I'll be spared whatever mortification may come. Or I could just say nothing and tell Mom he can't come. Then again, she'll keep pestering me about it until I cave in.

With a sigh, I took out my phone and sent Ben a text asking if he'd like to come for dinner tomorrow.

There was an immediate response.

-YES

His texts kept coming. Oh boy.

-WHAT SHOULD I WEAR?
-SHOULD I BRING A GIFT?
-WOULD CHAMPAGNE BE WEIRD??
-i don't have to bring champagne
-it's generic anyway
-BROWNIES
-IS ANYONE ALLERGIC???

I responded back: No one's allergic...

-BROWNIES IT IS THEN

-Ben, no. Just come over tomorrow. That's all.

-......OKAY
-what should I wear, seriously

-Anything. -_-

-Anything ;)

After a quick facepalm, I replied: Dammit, just something nice and casual. Geez...

-ALRIGHT（。々°）

This fuckin' dumbass, I swear.

I messaged: You better come to dinner, pervert.

-Dinner with my angry peanut butter cup's family? How could I ever miss the opportunity?~

-At least you're enthusiastic.
-If you're good, I'll get you tres leches.

Instantaneous response again.

-FUCc
-I SCREAMED SO HARD
-PLES
-TREAT ME LIKE A QUEEN
-PaPI

Oh my god.

-Blocked.

-NO WAIT (ﾒﾟДﾟ)ﾒ

For five minutes, I was cringing and laughing until my stomach hurt. Such a dumbass...!

After I calmed down, I texted: I'll see you tomorrow, then.

-I'll make you proud, Reese's puffs!~ :D

With a lighthearted roll of my eyes, I tossed my phone onto my bed and got up to gather clothes for a shower. All the while, I kept snickering when I thought about Ben's texts.

Dinner tomorrow is going to be interesting.

...

Artem was cleaning up his hands at the shop's sink. While I put absorbent sand onto the spots where oil was spilled, I asked him, "Hey, ruski, do you wanna come over for dinner today?"

Without glancing at me, he asked, "You have dinner everyday, so what makes this one special?"

"Well," I began, "a friend of mine is coming over to meet Hunter and Mom."

Artem turned off the sink and remarked, "Is it the friend that you mentioned last time?"

Hesitantly, I murmured, "Yes..."

"Didn't you say he was involved in troublesome things?"

"Y-Yes..."

The brunet flashed me a look and I added, "Look, it was just familial issues...!"

"Of course it was," he said in that sarcastic, monotonous tone. Before I could argue, he went on, "As much as I would love to come over and interrogate this boy until he goes running home to cry to his matushka, I'll be busy after work tonight."

"What are you doing?"

"Meeting a friend," he replied.

"Again? Who is it?"

He furrowed his brow and said, "No one of your concern, soplyak."

"Aw, c'mon, ruski," I retorted. "Why can't I know about your friend? You want to know about mine."

His expression was dead serious as he explained, "Matters on your personal life are much more important than mine since you are a child. Also, the matters of my friend's personal life shouldn't be known to you, therefore, I will tell you nothing."

With a huff, I muttered, "Fine."

"Now that you understand, go refill the brake fluid on that truck," he ordered and pointed his thumb to a red, pick-up truck parked under one of the lifts.

Following his command, I put the bucket of dirt and the dirt pan off to the side, then ran to the red truck. As I popped open the hood, I glanced at Artem, who was in the office taking a call on the work phone. Even though he was right about not needing to know of his personal life, I still couldn't help but wonder. For the time that I've known him, I've never once seen him with friends or family. As far as I can tell, it seems like he doesn't want me to see them, or hear of them. It's only natural for me to question him, right?

For now, I shrugged it off and did my work.

...

After I finished showering at home, I went into my bedroom and the apartment's doorbell rang. Surprised, I checked the time on my phone and saw that Ben came at exactly seven o'clock, like I told him earlier. With a groan, I threw off my towel and tossed on whatever clothes I grabbed first. I slapped the towel around my shoulders and ran out of my room to answer the door, but of course Mom was the one who answered first.

Standing in the hallway, I heard her say, "Hello! You must be Ben."

"Hello! You must be Reese's mother. He's told me very sweet things about you," Ben's voice piped up in a chipper tone.

"I would hope so. Come in!" she beckoned and stepped aside to let the blonde in. His blue, human eyes found my gaze immediately and he waved excitedly.

"Hi!" he greeted me as he walked in. I timidly waved back and managed an awkward smile. For a brief moment, I took notice of his black and white striped jumper, black jeans and those flashy high tops again (I'm glad he didn't dress too formally, or casually). Before I could say anything, Mom called me out, "Reese, mijito, is that really the best thing you could wear for dinner?"

I glanced down at my plain, white t-shirt and black, cargo pants, then shrugged. (Guess I shouldn't complain.)

"Aye, your hair isn't even dried," she groaned and came up to grab the towel.

"No, mama, I'm fine--." But she shook the towel against my head anyway.

"To think I'd have to dry your hair when you're seventeen," she teased, and I sighed heavily beneath the towel. When she yanked it away, I could feel my damp hair stick up in random places. Ben snickered at me while Mom ordered me to comb my hair in the bathroom. As I brushed my hair to what Mom would probably like, I overheard Hunter greeting Ben.

"Hi, I'm Hunter, Reese's older brother." They'll be shaking hands by now.

"I'm Ben...! Reese has told me about you, too."

"Did he tell you I'm super cool and handsome?" Hunter, please...

"Of course he has," Ben said cheerfully.

"Good, we're already off to a great start."

Once I finished combing my hair, I walked out into the living room to be with everyone. Ben turned to look at me and said, "Lookin' sharp, peanut butter cup."

"He's already in on the nicknames, that's awesome!" Hunter exclaimed as he ruffled my fixed hair. With a groan, I spun on my heel to return to the bathroom, but Ben grabbed my shoulder and reached up to brush my hair back for me.

"All of you go ahead and sit at the table," Mom announced. Instead of sitting, I helped her serve food instead so she wouldn't do it alone.

As I gave Ben his plate, he commented, "My, you're such a sweet son, Reese."

"He usually isn't this polite," Mom muttered with a sly smirk.

"Yeah, he's super, super lazy," Hunter added on and I shot them both narrow-eyed looks. Ben chuckled and that made things better, I guess.

Once everyone was seated, Ben asked, "Do you all do a prayer...?"

"Nah," Hunter replied. "Go ahead and scarf your food down."

"I think scarfing it down would be rude, don't you think?" I told Hunter.

"I mean, if he's practically inhaling it, that means he loves Mom's cooking."

"Don't choke on my food, please," Mom sweetly told the blonde wraith.

"Haha, I won't." And, for some reason, I thought about how he actually can't choke. It won't work, anyway. The dork can't die.

"Don't make a mess, either," I retorted.

Hunter barked a laugh and said, "As long as he doesn't eat like me, I think he's good."

"Please, don't eat like Hunter," Mom interjected in that sweet tone of hers again.

The moment I picked up my fork, Ben confessed, "I was thinking of bringing brownies but Reese told me not to."

"Aw, c'mon, my dude," Hunter groaned to me with a disappointed mien.

"Eat your chicken. You would've eaten all of them anyway," I shot back.

"You are extremely correct, but still," he argued.

"Well, you know what," I began, and after that the both of us kept bickering back and forth about the brownies that were never to be. Meanwhile, Mom struck up a quiet chat with Ben and the two of them bore delighted expressions the entire time. Even though I could already sense the potential embarrassment, I was glad things were going so well.

...

After dinner, Hunter challenged Ben to play video games with him, to prove if he was "worthy". The blonde wraith happily obliged and the two of them were sitting on the couch with controllers in hand in no time. It was extremely entertaining seeing Hunter get frustrated whenever Ben blue shelled him at Mario Kart. And it seemed like no matter what game they played, Ben bested him every time. In the end, all Hunter could do was give him props and respect.

Eventually, the evening came to a close and Ben had to leave. He said his goodbyes to Mom and Hunter, and they had seemed a little saddened to see him go. Looks like they definitely enjoyed his company.

"If you ever need anything, just ask," Mom assured the blonde wraith.

"If Reese is ever a jerk, lemme know and I'll set him straight," Hunter joked and I lightly elbowed his stomach.

"I'll be fine. Thank you, both of you," Ben replied with a humble smile.

"Goodnight!" Mom sang happily. Hunter just gave him a nonchalant salute.

"C'mon, I'll walk you out," I stated as I ushered him out of the apartment. When the door was closed and we were halfway down the hall, I started, "I'm guessing you had a good time."

"Are you kidding? It was wonderful," the blonde said, beaming. "Your mom and brother are so polite and welcoming. I was a little nervous they'd be, I don't know, more strict?"

"Trust me, that's as strict as they get when it comes to guests," I retorted with a chuckle.

"Your mom is so nice. She told me I could call her Mari, for Margarita, but I was still iffy on it. And Hunter! He almost beat me at CoD a few times. And so laid back. He's cool. Ah, and the food was amazing...!"

"I'm glad you had fun," I said, hoping my sincerity presented itself.

At the elevator, he asked, "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," I answered.

He smirked. "You were oddly quiet. I kept wondering if you were secretly bothered."

"It's not that," I assured him. "Just tired. Went from school, to work, then home. And no, I was not bothered. Slightly embarrassed during some moments, but never bothered."

"I'm happy to hear that," he responded, right before the elevator dinged and the doors opened up for us. The compartment was empty, yet both of us stood in one corner after I hit the button for the lobby.

As the elevator made its descent, Ben spoke up and said, "To be honest, I think this is the first time I've ever been around a family."

Furrowing my brow, I questioned, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I have my family, but they're not like yours," he explained. "Hehe, I guess that's obvious, but you get what I'm saying. Your family is tied by blood, ya know, and mine is...special. A-Anyway, I was amazed by how...at home I felt, and I barely even know your mom and brother."

"You were human once, right?"

He nodded.

"Did you have a blood family?" As soon as I uttered the words, I wanted to take them back. I wasn't sure how sensitive of a question it was for him.

There was a pause of silence between us as he took the time to think. Once he figured something out, he just shrugged and answered, "I'm sure I did. I came from somewhere, hehe. But...I don't remember anything from when I was human."

"Nothing at all?"

He shook his head, the locks of hair at the sides of his face swaying gently. "My memory is blank. All I know is that whatever life I had before it ended horribly."

"What makes you say that?"

He flashed an easygoing smile and said, "There's only two ways to become a ghost like me: you do messed up shit when you're living, or you die an unfortunate death. Since I can't remember my human life, I can only presume my death was pretty unfair."

"Do you know how you died?" I asked just as the elevator doors opened. Luckily, no one was in the lobby except for the custodian, who mopped the floors and blocked out the world with earphones.

As we walked out of the elevator and through the front entrance, Ben replied, "Not in a way that I remember my death. I used to be friends with others like me and they said they had found me by a lake. From that, I deduced I probably drowned. My buddies kept pointing that out, too, calling me Ben Drowned, because all I had to go by was my first name."

"That's kinda mean," I remarked.

"Yeah, but those people have been out of my life for a long while," he added casually.

"What happened to them?"

Ben's eyes darkened for a split second before he responded, "Eh, left them behind."

Reluctantly, I left that subject alone and stared ahead as we walked down the sidewalk. A thought came to mind, suddenly. Since the original Majora's Mask initially came out in 2000, Ben couldn't have died that long ago. Meaning, his family might still be around.

"If you could see your family again, would you?" I inquired, genuinely curious. If he did enough digging, he could find them and see them. I doubt he'd want to directly meet with them, but their whereabouts would be known, at the least. He could figure out who he was before he died and became the Ben I know now.

After more silence and thinking, he looked up at me and said, "No."

The shock must have been apparent on my face, because he chuckled. "No?" I repeated, puzzled.

"Nope."

"Why?"

Tucking his hands in his pockets and stopping in his tracks, he replied, "Same reason why you said no yesterday. I'm different from whoever I used to be. There's no way I would want to change that."

"Well, the scenario used for me would ultimately change everything I know now," I pointed out. "We were talking about changing my past. For you, you'd still be Ben just seeing your family."

"I already have my family, though," he remarked with a warm look in his eyes. "I wouldn't risk causing change by meeting my old family. I'm sure they're fine where they are, just as I'm secure with where I am in life now."

With a grin, I murmured, "Since you didn't try to change my mind yesterday, I won't change yours. Not that I was going to in the first place. We can be ignorant and different together."

Bearing a bright smile, he chirped, "I definitely wouldn't want to change that."

A minute passed before I realized how far I was walking away from my apartment building. "Did you come in the Chevelle?"

"Nah. I was just gonna poof back home."

"Will you be okay?"

"Of course. Don't worry, Reese's pieces."

"I could at least walk you to a spot where you can teleport."

"I'm fine," he reassured me. "Go back home. Your Mom and Hunter are expecting you."

"Just a little farther," I insisted.

Ben stopped me by standing in front of my path and pressing his hands against my chest. "Go home, Reese."

After staring at him for a couple of seconds, I sighed and said, "Alright. Good night then, pervert."

"Good night, my angry peanut butter cup," he said and gave a gentle wave of his hand.

Then, with a complacent gait, he sauntered down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets again. Despite that he said he'd be okay, I still stood in my place and watched him walk away. As I expected, he eventually noticed my gaze and turned around to look at me.

"Go home!" he hollered, and I chuckled. He began slowly walking away again, taking big steps in a comically cautious fashion. And yet I waited and waited, watching him act like an idiot, until he came upon a corner and stopped. Gesturing obviously, he pointed past the corner, letting me know he was still leaving. I gave him a thumbs up, and he returned the motion using both hands for more emphasis. He was far from me, but I could still make out the sly wink before he slipped around the corner.

Even a few seconds after he left my sight, I kept standing around. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I checked it.

-GO HOME

From Ben, of course.

At that, I spun around and returned back to the apartment building to do as he said. During my trek back to my apartment, I couldn't help but notice how lonely it was without Ben to join me. Leaning against the far elevator wall, I stared up at the screen above the doors that displayed the floor number.

As the number changed from 2 to 3, I smiled at the thought of this evening's dinner. There was a different atmosphere hanging over us, one that was positive. Maybe it's just me, but it was nice seeing Mom and Hunter have a pleasant time. It was something new, and different, and sweet for all of us. Then I remembered Ben's comment about him feeling welcomed; at home. And I hoped he would keep feeling that way at my place--with me--no matter what. Because there isn't a greater feeling than feeling at home.

...

Ben's POV

The last time I slept, it didn't go so well. Even though I wanted to forget the nightmare, I couldn't. Yet, here I was, laying in my bed, dozing off like the previous night. Before I knew it, a dream popped up.

My thoughts kept replaying the dinner over and over, and each time I took notice of new details. Most of those details involved Reese. If his mother mentioned anything about him, he'd blush, though it was barely noticeable on his features. While he and Hunter argued, his smile was big and genuine, eyes young and bright. Since I sat next to him, I'd glance at him sometimes and he'd catch my gaze every time. His stormy grey eyes meeting mine. It was hard not to react, but I maintained my composure while my heart skipped a beat.

As I recalled those moments our gazes kept meeting, I looked up and he suddenly wasn't there anymore. Confused, I looked around only to find that everyone was gone. Turning again, everything went black. Silence. Deafening silence with nothing but darkness surrounding me.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand touched my shoulder from behind, and snaked around to my chest as a familiar voice called my name.

"Ben..."

Relief washed over me and I grabbed onto the hand. I whirled around to throw myself into Reese's embrace, but was halted when hands gripped my neck tight. Instead of seeing a figure in front of me, there was nothing, yet the hands kept strangling me. In my struggle to slip out of their grip, I stumbled backwards farther and farther until my legs hit something solid.

Before I could consider what object I hit, I felt air rush at my back as I fell. Something engulfed my body and filled up my lungs. My fingernails hurt like they were raw and sore, for whatever reason. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't feel anything but pain.

Abruptly, the pain stopped and I was on my knees, sitting on nothing but a black void. The only thing in front of me was a grey, Nintendo 64 cartridge. Tentatively, I reached forward to grab it but something tough and invisible snapped around my wrist. I was yanked back into the suffocating pain, and my throat hurt from silent screams that would never be heard.

Pain.

Pain.

Please, stop.

No more.

Don't hurt me.

Stop it.

Breathe. Let me breathe! Let me breathe--

"Ben..."

Opening my eyes, I saw Reese kneeling in front of me, his expression empty of any distress. With a graceful motion of his arm, he held his hand out for me to take. I felt tears well in my eyes as I leaned forward to take his hand, with the intention of never letting go.

And just when our fingertips were an inch apart, he was gone. There was nothing left in his place. Just me and the black void of nightmare.

As I sat, overwhelmed by my growing hopelessness, something slowly rose up my body. It rose and rose until it reached my neck, where I could feel those invisible hands strangling me again.

Pain.

Pain.

The pain increased until everything was numb.

Please.

Let me breathe.

No matter how hard I tried to inhale, it seemed like there was no oxygen for me to intake.

Don't kill me.

Don't let me die.

With no hope or strength left in me, I opened my mouth to release a scream. But instead of hearing nothing, my anguished voice invaded my ears and chilled my blood. It was so shrill, and distressing, and full of so much agony, and it scared me to know it was coming from me. My throat hurt. Everything hurt. Still hurts.

It hurts

It hurts.

It hurts...!

IT HURTS.

STOP.

STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP

STOP

STOP--

I woke up jumping up from my bed, breathing heavily. My entire body trembled as if I was freezing, but sweat stuck to my clothes and hair. There was quiet whimpering in my room and it took me a while to figure out it was from me. Liquid rolled down my face and I touched a finger to my cheek to see what it was. Initially, I thought it was more sweat but it was worse.

Blood.

Shit, no. No, no, no.

Panicked, I wiped away the blood that streamed down my cheeks but it kept coming. I felt droplets fall onto my blanket and clothes. Quickly, I bolted out of bed and ran out of my room to the nearest bathroom. As soon as I opened the door and turned on the lights, I was startled by my bloody, pale face. I dashed to the sink, turned on the faucet and aggressively splashed water onto my face. My bangs hung down in wet locks, water spilled onto the counter, and the water ran down the drain pink instead of clear.

Once I figured the blood was gone, I looked in the mirror to check. Even after washing my face, blood kept pouring from my dilated eyes. I closed them, hoping to stop the blood flow and calm down. I can't have another breakdown. I need to stop.

STOP

Dammit, why won't it stop?!

Clutching my head, I backed out of the bathroom and bumped into the door on the way. Not even bothering to turn the light off, I hurried to my bedroom. I shut my door and locked it to make me feel better. With shaky legs, I stumbled back to my bed and fell onto it. My head was pounding and the blood kept pouring down my cheeks. Even with all this pain, my attention was caught by my phone next to my pillow. I grabbed it, checked the time, and clutched it in my hand.

It's three in the morning. There's no way Reese would be up at this hour. He won't reply to me if I message him, I bet. I shouldn't bother him. Don't annoy him.

But the blood kept falling from my eyes and my head hurt too much to think.

I texted him. Then hyperventilated.

Dammit, don't bother him...! He's not going to respond. It's too late. You're such an idiot, Ben. Even if he does, it'll take him forever and you need him now. If you call, maybe he'll answer, but then you'll just irritate him. Why do you have to be such a fucking burden? Let him sleep. Fuck...!

Just when I felt my bloody tears increase, the phone buzzed and lit up. Taken aback, I grabbed it and checked the screen. Relief overwhelmed me and I managed a smile.

Reese texted back... He's awake...!

-Hey perv

With a chuckle, I replied: I didn't expect you to respond, hehe. Why aren't you asleep?

A few seconds later...

-Hard time sleeping.

-nightmare...?

-Yeah, you could say that. And you?

Oh, boy, if only he knew whatever the hell it is I went through. I'd rather he didn't.

-Makes two of us ('∀' )

-Well, I guess we can be sleep deprived together. If you wouldn't mind?

My smile almost hurt my cheeks and I clutched the phone tighter. I picked up my knees and hunched over, cradling the device like it was the most invaluable thing in the world. Liquid dripped down my face, but I could tell it wasn't blood anymore (it felt lighter, less thick). My normal tears fell down my face, washing away whatever crimson was left, and I sniffled like a child.

"God, I love you, and I wish you knew that," I whispered lovingly to the phone.

Finally, after I got over my ugly crying, I messaged him, saying: I definitely wouldn't mind. Btw, whatever happened to my tres leches cake, hmm??

-Ummmmm

-I was good, wasn't I? Don't hold out on me (¬▹¬)

-Okay, okay, I'll get you a cake tomorrow.

-It needs to be the one you gave me last time.

-My mom made that...

-Ask her to make more. Unless you want to do it??

-I'd like to avoid burning down my apartment, thank you.

-OH I JUST HAD A NEAT IDEA
-WHAT IF WE MADE IT??

-Still don't want to burn my apartment.

-C'mon, I'm a decent baker.

-You're confusing being a baker with getting baked.

-hahahA good one
-seriously though

-I'll get you a cake from the store and that's that

-fiiiiiine. (¬▹¬)
-as long as I feel like a queen when I get it

-I'll bring you a crown

-Yes! :D
-Just one?

-You want two??

-One for me, one for you!

-What will I be, king?

-Yeah! :D

A couple of minutes passed and during those two minutes I wondered if I weirded him out (more than usual) and scared him away. I was proven wrong when I got a message.

-Alright, I'll bring two crowns.

Smiling, I wiped whatever tears I had left on my face and cleaned my phone screen for good measure. After that, I pressed the device against my forehead, grateful that Reese could text me. Then it buzzed again.

-So...I'm king, and you're queen?

-yeh

-Why are you queen?

-Why not???

-.......
-it suits you anyway

Ah, he thinks it suits me...! And just imagining him with a crown made me utter a quiet squeal.

Nervously, I replied: Hey, this is random, but....thanks.

-For what?

Even though it nearly pained me to consider him this, I texted: For being my friend. Especially despite myself.

-Despite yourself? If you're saying you're not worth friendship then I'd say you're wrong.
-Plus, I should be the one thanking you. I know I keep saying I'm a terrible kid, and it's probably getting old, but I'm really happy to have you

For a while, I sat waiting for him to finish the last sentence with 'as a friend', but he didn't. After five minutes, it was clear he wasn't going to add those last three words and I felt happier than I should have.

-I'm happy to have you too, Reese.
-Thank you.

For calming me down. For staying up with me. For being my friend. For being my break away from crazy. For giving me the chance to love you.

I wish I could tell him all of these things, but all I can say is thank you. As simple as it is, I hope he realizes the meaning behind it. If not today, then someday.

Thank you, Reese.