Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 Setting an old but well-loved record into place on the portable turntable, Pepper McCoy gets Earl Jordan’s ‘Engine of Love’ to woo the cold air. The song drifts from the lit shed right by the old train station of ‘West End’ and towards the young teen huffing and puffing outside.

 Rusty busies himself jogging laps around the shed to warm up. It’s only a little after seven in the morning. He’s sweating on his third lap, lungs burning, and wishing he was sleeping the first hours of the day in bed. The sun was already peaking over the horizon and already blinding him whenever he turned a long corner around the train shed.

 Mister Pepper clapped along whenever Rusty would finish a lap and laugh, “C’mon then! Just a few more!”

 A few more would be twenty laps in total.

 The curly haired teen would try to catch his breath, leaning against a wooden fence until the world stopped spinning. Maybe it was a great time to start drinking coffee if he wanted to wake up, “Is that it?”

 “Almost,” Pepper would clap again and grin. “That was just the warmup.”

 He was then told to lace up his skates. Rusty had to hold in a groan as he sat down in the gravel to put them on.

 What followed were drills up and down a small ramp. A few long strides down. A couple of trudges upwards. Sometimes Pepper would tell him to brake and reverse, other times Rusty was told to stop moving his legs and just roll.

 His legs feel like jelly afterwards and not in the fun way. Rusty stretches and cracks the joints in his knees and ankles, “Is that it?”

 “Almost done,” his tutor would then gesture over to a small lot nearby with deliberately placed traffic cones.

 Cue Rusty now skating around orange plastic cones and keeping his knees tight together. That jelly feeling gets stronger and he wobbles slightly at the exertion. Rusty never wobbles while skating.

 Finally, finally, FINALLY- After finishing more laps around the cones and striking a pose here and there as directed by Mister Pepper…

 Rusty collapses onto a nearby sandbag to sit down and arch his back forwards. Elbows fall to his knees and his head is tucked. Utterly exhausted.

 The sun is fully up and trains honk in the distance. Rail cars clatter upon rails nearby. It’s a brand new day but Rusty is already imagining crawling back into bed to sleep.

 Mister Pepper lifts the needle from the vinyl and closes his traveling record player after sliding the record back into its sleeve. He finishes wrapping up and collecting his belongings before whistling, “Good work today, Rusty.”

 The teen wheezes, “Thanks…”

 “Your from is a little creaky, I’ve noticed,” his tutor continues, adjusting his spectacles. “I want you fluid and flexible within three months. You’re also getting a late start so you’re going to have to do stretches every morning before you skate.”

 Rusty restrains a hurt whine from escaping him. He already hated gym class. Why did he have to unlock Gym 2?

 Mister Pepper’s tone then changes into a somber one, “I’m not going to lie. The cards are stacked against us. You’re lucky enough as is since you were born and raised a skater. I’ve also noticed how similar your movements are for a dancer.”

 “Yeah, my mom taught me that,” collecting himself, Rusty looks up at his mentor to share. “She was a dancer.”

 Pepper grins, “Oho! That means you have a bit of a background to work off of. I think I can add some exercises in that bring out that fancy footwork. If you can’t beat Griseber or Electra at their own games then you need to beat them at your own.”

 “Huh?”

 “Now I know Griseber here. He’s a real powerhouse and plays football on the regular,” he crosses his arms, thoughtful. “He likes to mow his opponents down with strength so the best way to beat him is to dodge and sprint. Electra, on the other hand, I know next to nothing about. I can only glance at them and hypothesize that they’re going to be more clever with speed and flexibility. We’ll see if we can get some intel, but I would focus on drills that focus on dodging and braking.”

 Rusty bites his bottom lip, thinking. Electra was a dark horse. He barely knew the racer within the rink and what he had gone up against had always been a battle of instinct. One hit from GB could wind him for the rest of the competition but Electra and their six race partners…

 His stomach clenches thinking about it.

 “Lastly,” Mister Pepper stands up straight. “I want you to start thinking of a race partner.”

 “A partner?” His heart races. A few faces surfaced in his head. Someone classic to complete him, inspire him-

 “Someone who matches your physique and style well. Someone who doesn’t need a whole lot of training will be good too.”

 -and his hope dashes into the wind like a lingering train horn.

 Rusty sighs, “Okay. I’ll put that on the pile.”

 “Good!” With a stride forward, Mister Pepper gives him a strong pat to his shoulder that nearly makes the racer in training collapse like a pile of bones, “Remember! You’re comin’ here every Saturday morning. Six A.M. on the dot! Sunday is the day of rest, after all.”

 Pepper’s words bounce within the confines of his tired mind as Rusty skates out of the yard and towards the neighborhood he lives in. Adults were off to work in their cars or in their skates as well and the kids and teens were still sleeping in.

 He yawns, groaning softly. Rusty could still be in bed and sleeping in. Allowing his bruises and scrapes to still heal and his legs to rest. It was still too cold for him to be active, his bones and lungs protesting. What would his doctor say? What would his parents say?

 The groan turns into a sigh as he skates to the side of the road to allow cars to pass. It was easier to say to get up early in the morning when you had an eight-hour job as a school guidance counselor, Rusty concedes. His simmers a bit at the fact how pepper either didn’t know or care about his job at the roller rink. Exhaustion on top of all his responsibilities that came with high school and a part-time job. Cool.

 Oh well. He’ll be mad later. Rusty would rather have a sleep first. Tomorrow he’ll be mad.

 ‘This is on me for putting my money where my mouth is…’ Another yawn as he swerves onto a familiar road, ‘If I am going to be Starlight at the races then I need to get better as a racer.’

 Another push with his skates and Rusty glides towards the driveway that leads to CB’s house. There hadn’t been time to text CB on his way over since training had kept him busy and it was unsafe to text and skate at the same time. He wanted to pick up his friend before the two and Dustin were to meet up at the park and then meet their working friends later at the Apollo.

 Rusty does his best to smarten up. Rubbing at his eyes to wake up, lightly combing his hair with his fingers, smoothing out any wrinkles in his clothes, making sure his laces were tied. Then he rings the doorbell to the redhead’s house.

 There’s a ‘coming!’ from the other side of the door and Rusty waits. His posture is straight, and skates nearly brought together ankle-by-ankle. He waits and the door opens after a minute-

 Rusty looks up at a tall and lanky teenager who was not CB. His green eyes flash down at him in interest.

 “Well hello there,” black-painted fingernails tap against the doorframe as the teen emerges.

 “Hi,” nervous now at this stranger in CB’s doorway, Rusty wants to shrink down to the size of a pebble and disappear. “Is CB home?”

 “Yeah, just a bit busy,” this stranger was calm yet suave. Dark red hair pulled back under a black bandana and hidden under a red and black panama hat. Silver chain around his neck, black leather with silver studs wrapped around his wrists, black fingerless gloves. A black vest that did not button up was over a long-sleeved blue and white striped button-up. Navy blue pants and bright red skates (with matching red laces and wheels) adorned him. A smirk tugs at his lips, “Are you one of his friends?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Ah! You must be Rusty,” that smirk evolves into a grin and he leans in closer. “CB talks about you all the time.”

 Rusty’s cheeks heat up, “What-?!”

 “CAMERON!” CB’s angry squawking is heard from behind the stranger and the teen in the doorway is pushed aside by Rusty’s friend. The smaller redhead is only half-dressed with messy hair and his sleep shirt still on and his face is bright red, “Don’t listen to him, Rusty! GET AWAY from my friend!”

 “Oh don’t mind hi-” The taller teen is yanked out of the doorway and makes a choking noise as he’s wheeled away, “Ceeb! C’mon- I told you I go by BV now!”

 “YOU STOLE THAT FROM ME!”

 CB has the advantage of not wearing skates as he’s able to drag his older sibling away. His older brother fights back by gripping the doorframe with a claw-like grip, “Fine, how about- CV?”

 “No!”

 “Okay then- What about CN?”

 “THINK AGAIN!” Another tug and his older brother goes flying back into their house.

 With a yelp, he gets flung onto the carpet in the living room. Sitting up and adjusting his hat with nary a care at being flung, “BV it is.”

 The smaller redhead smoothed out invisible dust from his clothes and grins at Rusty, “Morning! You’re here early.”

 Rusty stands stiff in the doorway after watching the sibling interaction. He must still be tired from waking up early as he figures he would have had a more excitable or shocked reaction. Slowly blinking, Rusty turns to CB, “Yeah, I was in the neighborhood. Had to wake up early to train.”

 “Train?” CB blinks.

 “Yeah, uh, I have a trainer to help me for the Starlight Supertop,” he starts to regret sharing. How can he steer the conversation out of this? Rusty was a chronic no-show for the few demo races that had been held as of late and his secret identity of being Starlight still hung in the balance.

 “Oh, good luck,” CB turns on his heel and heads back inside.

 Rusty gives a light frown at the reaction but follows inside. CB takes to his room and closes the door. The curly-haired teen enters the greenroom to find BV was making breakfast in the kitchen.

 BV’s eye catches Rusty’s gaze and he smirks, “Hungry? I can get ya a plate of buttered toast, eggs, and bacon.”

 He was really hungry.

 Rusty nods, “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

 “Nonsense,” a hand is wave dismissively towards him before BV turns back towards the kitchen. “We got plenty of food. I was making breakfast for myself anyway.”

 “Okay, thanks,” Rusty takes a seat at the dining table. He doesn’t mind the mess on one half of the table full of toolboxes of tiny tools and half-complete circuit boards. It wasn’t CB’s house without a few tools scattered here or there. At one point in the recent past he had found a hammer lying on the fireplace and a soldering iron wrapped up in the towel closet of the powder room.

 A pan sizzles with grease ten paces away within the kitchen. BV cracks an egg open above the pan to create a sunny side up presentation next to a few slices of store-bought bacon. It smells lovely.

 “How much bacon do you want, Rusty?” BV sets up the toast in the toaster and gets out the butter to allow it to soften a bit.

 “Uh, I guess three strips at most.”

 “Excellent,” BV sucks in a silent breathe between his teeth as he accidently pokes the yolk in the center of the egg with the tongs to flip the bacon. He quickly starts to scramble the egg and adds a few more to cover his mistake.

 The bacon starts to become crispy and is exchanged for raw strips, “I didn’t get to ask but are scrambled eggs alright?”

 “Yeah I like them,” his fingers idly drum atop of the wooden table.

 “Wonderful!” He exits the kitchen with a fresh plate of scrambled eggs and the first serving of bacon on a plate and a knife and fork in one hand, “Toast will be ready soon, along with some butter.”

 “Thanks,” Rusty is served his breakfast. “That was fast.”

 “Scrambled eggs don’t take too long to make,” BV mentally gives himself a small pat on the back. “And that serving of bacon was ready first so you’re in luck today.”

 ‘He gave me first dibs, how nice of him,’ Rusty chews. “How long are you in town for?”

 “Just until Monday morning,” the upperclassman goes back to the kitchen to make more servings of bacon and eggs. “I got here last night.”

 “Do you like it here?”

 “Kind of,” BV doesn’t elaborate as the toast pops out of the toaster. “Dad and CB are here and that’s what matters.”

 Rusty grows silent until a plate of diagonally cut toast with a butter dish is placed in front of him. He’s still hungry and the bacon and eggs had been delicious, “Thank you.”

 “No problem,” back to the kitchen to prep another serving of toast and set up a plate for bacon and eggs.

 The younger teen munches on a slice of toast, ‘He’s kind of similar to how CB doesn’t like to talk when he’s upset. Maybe I struck a nerve…’

 Right as Rusty is musing about how this breakfast is almost as great as Dinah’s cooking, CB enters the room now fully dressed with his skates laced up and bag over his shoulder, “Alright! I’m ready to-”

 His excitement fades as he finds Rusty finishing devouring buttered toast and BV finishing a few plates.

 “CB!” His older brother grins at him, “Just in time. How many slices of bacon do you want?”

 But CB does not answer. He turns his gaze towards Rusty and the cooling plates on the table.

 While Rusty finishes swallowing the last bites of his breakfast, CB strides forward to steal a few slices of toast. He wolfs them down one after the other akin to a gerbil and then guns it for the door, “C’mon, Rusty!”

 “Guh-” Surprised, Rusty nearly bolts out of his chair, “Hang on!”

 BV pokes his head out of the kitchen, raising an eyebrow, “Where are you two headed today?”

 “Serious boy stuff,” CB answers, face stoic as he turns back to answer him. “Before we meet up at the Apollo. Friend stuff.”

 “Alright then.”

 Rusty makes his way towards CB after wiping his hands clean with a napkin, “Do you want anything to eat? Besides toast?”

 “NAH I’m good,” the smaller redhead swerves towards the door. He waves goodbye, “See ya!”

 “Bye!” Rusty follows but not before turning back to wave a proper goodbye to CB’s older brother.

 “Have fun,” BV looks towards all the ready plates. “Guess I’m going for a big breakfast today…”

 CB does a few tight spins in the driveway as Rusty shrugs his bag over his arms. Pleased and away from his brother, CB hitches up to Rusty, “C’mon! Dustin’s gotta be waiting.”

 “One moment,” sighing, the early-riser straightens his back and does a quick stretch with his arms. Something in his back cracked and he was ready to go.

 Rusty takes off down the familiar path towards his house and Dustin’s. CB dutifully shifts his weight and brakes at turns. When they’re halfway there, Rusty speaks up, “So you’re brother is going to be here tomorrow too.”

 “Meh,” the redhead gives a flat response but Rusty is imagining the displeased expression he must be making.

 “Is he doing anything?”

 “He’s almost eighteen, he can do what he wants.”

 ‘Can we have a nice conversation this morning?’ Rusty sighs, “Alright. Just wasn’t expecting him.”

 CB stays quiet during a turn, “…he does like to announce visits the day before he arrives.”

 Rusty skates on, knees lightly burning still, “…he knew who I was.”

 “Ten-Nine?” CB blinks at Rusty.

 “Your brother. He only needed to look at me and know who I was.”

 Something in CB’s expression twitches before it morphs into annoyance. His cheeks dusted a light pink as he puts his focus back onto the road, “Ignore that. He’s great at unnerving people.”

 “He also said you talk about me all the time.”

 CB’s pace increases, “I talk about everyone to my mom and dad. Don’t know how he learned about what you looked like.”

 Tension was rising off of CB but Rusty was either too tired or couldn’t pick up on it altogether, “…did I ever meet him while he visited here?”

 A pebble is kicked and CB huffs. Hands curled into fists, “No. You were sick.”

 “Oh,” Rusty looks away from CB and the two skate in silence.

 Rolling towards Dustin and Flam’s house, the two are surprised with delight at the sight of their friend already outside with his backpack, “Dustin! Dustin!”

 Grinning, Dustin rushes to them on his skates and the three form a chain. They laugh together and take off towards the park for their grand day out.

 “I got my cards ready,” Dustin proclaims between his two friends.

 “Me too,” Rusty nods, leading them through the familiar roads. “I even looked through my bookcase and found a few I had used as page markers.”

 “Hehe! I’m excited,” CB giggles from the back, braking during wide turns.

 Old cards with swirling backgrounds and gorgeous artwork of human mages and magical creatures are placed upon one of the long-abandoned chess tables within ‘West End’s park. Dustin, CB, and Rusty get to shuffling their decks and showing off their trading cards. Each end up with a tall deck of cards face down and start to pull five cards towards their hands.

 A robot card from Dustin, a dragon card from CB, and a knight card from Rusty were played onto the field. No cards turned faced down.

 Dustin slides his robot card towards the edge of the table, “We’re in some ruins and my robot wants to pick some flowers.”

 “Ruins, eh?” CB marches his card around and makes dragon noises, “My dragon is going to look for treasure.”

 “I guess my knight will play a tune on their hidden lute,” Rusty sets his card down sideways to mimic their knight sitting down.

 “You fool!” CB’s eyes flash and he drags his dragon card towards Rusty’s knight, “Music angers my red hydra! And that makes my dragon able to tear your knight to shreds!” CB makes his card tackle Rusty’s knight card and then makes rabid noises, “Ragharagha!”

 Dustin and Rusty laugh along before the bigger of the two states, “I don’t think we’re ever going to learn how to play this game correctly.”

 “Who needs proper card game rules when the cartoon shows you can win by blowing up the moon,” Rusty says as he makes his knight card fight back. And they say the old cards go for a fortune online.

 “C’mon! We got a few hours,” CB reaches for more cards in his hand. “Dustin! What other kinds of robots do you have?”

 “This cool one with ten stars,” he shows it off to the redhead and Rusty. Both whistle in appreciation at the new card.

 Dustin places the new robot onto the table, “And he doesn’t like seeing senseless violence so he attacks your red hydra.”

 “And my knight’s friend shows up to help,” Rusty places another knight card onto the table and he and Dustin’s cards tackle CB’s dragon.

 “Fight me! RAAR!” A serious boys battle commences.

 Cameron Belview, who also now went by ‘BV’ among his peers, skated out of his stepfather’s house and down the street of ‘West End’ in smooth fashion. He hadn’t been born and raised this small town like his brother but he knew the way to a select few destinations.

 His first stop was to the café across the park where they made a wonderful honey cinnamon latte with almond croissants. He eyed the ‘Starlight Swirl’ muffins wearily with their blueberries and star-shaped sugar sprinkles atop but did not order one. Strange, he muses as he sips his coffee. Had that Starlight character his brother had informed their mother such a sensation?

 Maybe he’ll see them around today, BV shrugs to himself and bites into his croissant. Gliding down the road and towards his next destination: the observatory at the edge of town.

 It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a cliffside at the side of the huge hill next to the train yard. There was an old wooden railing with a few benches and an information plaque about the scenery in ‘West End.’ Train tracks were laid at the bottom of the cliff for the diesel smoke to drift upwards at night. The trees and fields were a pleasant sight to watch with the occasional bird or perhaps an animal crossing during dawn or dusk. The spot was more popular to joggers and hikers to rest during their workout.

 But BV had decided to sit on the center most bench by himself to watch the clouds pass and the tree sway in the wind. His latte warms his hands long after he had finished his almond pastry.

 He sighs, tugging his red scarf over his mouth to warm the lower portion of his face. A weekend over at Pop’s with his little (step)brother still not talking to him like before in a town he barely had fond memories of. What a way to spend for January to end.

 A chirp reaches his left ear and BV turns to see a small bluebird on the edge of the bench. It beady black eyes are fixed on his navy blue coat.

 “Hello…” BV blinks down at it, careful to be still.

 It chirps again and hops closer. The bird’s head twitches to look at his coat before back up at him expectantly.

 BV looks down at his coat to see the few crumbs and almond slices adorning his outerwear and figures it out. Careful, he takes his right hand and places a few crumbs in the center of his black fingerless glove before offering it to the bluebird, “Here you go.”

 Hopping closer, it looks at his hand and then up into BV’s eyes. One more expectant tilt of its head before it hops closer and selects a crumb before hopping back to devour its treat.

 There’s a faint chuckle from the redhead and then a sigh, “Aren’t you cute.”

 The bird doesn’t respond. It ruffles its feathers and continues to eat.

 “I remember sharing food with CB,” BV continues aloud, deciding to keep the visiting bird as company. “I’d always give him half of my sandwich or cookie when we had to be out of the house for a bit…”

 He didn’t exactly remember when it had started but one memory stood out. When he had been seven or eight, his mother would give him a chocolate milk in the backseat of the car. CB was buckled into the booster seat next to him, probably in kindergarten and always slapping star-shaped stickers onto every piece of furniture. When they were parked somewhere and just about to leave the parking lot to a department store, she had made sure to turn around to face him.

 His mother had smiled softly. Her green eyes twinkled but there was a mature edge hidden behind the glamor, “Cam, honey. You’re a big brother.”

 He looked at his little brother. CB was drooling over his chocolate milk and his wild red hair was sticking up. Booster seat covered in star sticker neither parent had the heart to scrape them off. The little guy is probably thinking about dinosaurs or an episode of an animated cartoon instead of the conversation at hand.

 Back then, BV didn’t respond. He wanted to say something in confirmation like a ‘Yep!’ or even a ‘Yes, mom’ but he had only looked back to her and nodded.

 She smiled again, warmth and loved radiating off her like the sleepy afternoon sun outside. Her hair was red too. Glowing gold.

 “He’s going to look up to you,” she continues. “You know how he follows you around? I don’t think he knows it yet but he loves you because he can. You’re his big brother and you’re going to be the one to look after him when me and your dad aren’t around.”

 BV didn’t respond back then either. He should have nodded vigorously and chanted loudly how he was going to be the best big brother ever or even hugged CB to show how much he cared. What he had done was continued to sip his chocolate milk and give a small dip of his head to show he had listened.

 Some of his next memories after that are of him at a mall in Current Park with CB. They have ten dollars to share and an hour to burn. They go for a walk around the indoor fountains. CB’s arms are spread out and he’s making airplane noises as he walks on the edge to the largest fountain at the center of the lobby. BV is in middle school and glares at all the teachers and classmates who think less of him because of how he dresses and what music he listens to.

 But at the mall he goes to the nice cookie shop with their slices of cookie cake that had the specific neon frosting that was so sweet that dentists had shops nearby to fill cavities. CB stands next to him as he asks for the last big cookie they had.

 BV splits it into two and gives CB the half with more frosting. His little brother is at the end of fifth grade and doesn’t slap sticker stars everywhere but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t see the world without some sort of starry wonders. Even a simple cookie treat could supply a thousand soft memories for days to come.

 “A big brother always looks out for his little brother,” BV tells the bluebird as it takes another crumb to munch on.

 He’s already in high school now and starts hiding his hair under a scarf. No one gives him a second glance about it, not when he’s so charming to be around. When BV gives an answer during class he does so with a soft smile and when he gives a presentation to the class he does so calmly, without fear, and with a light joke at the end. He has friends to turn to but he always gets on the phone with his stepfather on Friday with his mother to tell him about how he's doing and what the world in Current Park is like. When they’re about wrapped up, AV hands the phone to CB and his little brother will tell him about his friend Dinah and how she’s taking him to the Apollo Victoria to go skating every weekend.

 BV wished he could skate with his younger brother again. They’d only done so a few times. AV had been the one to teach both of his boys but never together due to timing. He skated with Elektra and Opal after school at the Lightning Round Skate Park but he had only skated by himself at the Apollo Victoria Roller Rink.

 So he made sure to ask him the little things: “Any good movies you’ve rented recently?” “How’s that Dustin kid in your class?” “Did you get that braking trick right yet?” “Don’t start fights with your classmates, but are you winning any?” “Interested in any girls?”

 CB always told him the truth: “I liked this Muppet movie with Kermit in a Christmas Carol, but this Bambi sequel was bad.” “Dustin’s alright, but I don’t see him after school since he’s visiting a classmate elsewhere.” “I did and I adjusted my skates to do more of them!” “I am being a very good student.” “No!”

 Then something had switched and CB didn’t want to come to the phone when AV offered it to him. Something had been passed from his stepfather to his mother that BV had overheard CB was ostracized at school for some incident or another.

 Every Friday he called and still received no CB on the line. AV was always apologetic after every attempt to ask CB to come to the phone to talk with his half-brother. It didn’t really make him feel better.

 “A good brother is always there for them,” the bluebird takes the almond slice now.

 But he wasn’t. He had a life in Current Park and CB had a life in ‘West End.’ They had made their decision long ago. Sometimes BV thinks they had been too young when they had to decide if they wanted to live with mom or dad. Stickers or chocolate milk. Fountains or cookies.

 BV loved Current Park. He could dress as he wanted and had finally made friends to hang out with. CB had…

 He didn’t know what CB did.

 The bluebird flies away and BV’s hand is free of crumbs.

 BV folds his empty hand against his torso and looks down at his cold cup of coffee. With a  heavy sigh, he downs the rest of his drink, stands up, and skates downhill. Time to figure out what his brother did when he wasn’t around.

 A little girl holds up a pastel pink and purple penguin plushie towards Dinah and Buffy at the Apollo Victoria cafeteria area. They aww and coo at it as the girl is all smiles.

 “Now that’s a winner!” Buffy exclaims as she places the cup of soda and a plate of pizza on the counter, “Did you win that from the claw machine all by yourself?”

 “Yep!” She nods and grins again, “It was so easy!”

 “Well good on you,” Dinah smiles to her as the girl’s father takes the tray of food away. “Have a good meal and the rest of your day!”

 Smiles and waves are exchanged before the two leave to find a place to sit and eat. Buffy sighs, placing a hand to her chin in thought, “Man… Toys sure have changed, huh?”

 “They are brighter,” Dinah agrees, cleaning up any spills and stains with a sanitized rag. The cafeteria wasn’t as busy now that the lunch rush was over and most guests were in the arcade or on the rink. Now was the time to clean up and stock up before the next rush. “I remember having most of my toys in neutral and natural tones…”

 “My stuffies were all those collectables at the gift store,” there’s a fond smile that comes upon the brunette’s face as she puts new paper cups into place. “I would enter codes from their tags online and play games with them.”

 “Really?” Dinah faces her, starry-eyed, “I never got those! My daddy always bought me collectable teddies!”

 The girls start to reminisce about their own toys from elementary school. Buffy had wonderful memories of a large plush horse she always had in her bed until it was used as décor when she hit the ninth grade. Dinah always loved teddy bears and baking sets but would start learning how to bake with actual equipment.

 “What was a toy you always wanted?” Dinah puts a finger to her chin, cutely.

 “Oooo! A powerwheels!” Buffy exclaims, snapping her fingers, “I always wanted one when I was a kid!”

 Dinah blinks, remembering something from the distant past of ten years ago. She gives a light frown, “Didn’t you get one for your birthday one time?”

 Buffy is silent before a pained look crosses her face, “CB’s brother crashed it that same day.”

 “Oh! That’s right! I forgot about that,” the blonde’s memory comes back in full. There had been a rented snow cone service. Most of the kids at the party had been busy in line and sitting at the tables and chairs with their frozen treats. CB’s brother had taken a snow cone and gotten into Buffy’s tiny toy car before plowing straight off the ledge of the back yard terrace and into the side of the metal and brick flower bed that Buffy’s mother dutifully cared for. Her powerwheels had been kaput with a chunk missing from its front and BV unharmed besides a small bruise at the base of his forehead. What a day.  

 Sighing wistfully, Buffy leans against the counter, “I also remember you getting one for Christmas, right?”

 “Ah…” It is now Dinah’s turn to become downcast. Her blue eyes dark and void of light, “CB crashed mine the very same week.”

 Buffy stares at her, “What.”

 “He was over at my place and we were playing in the front yard. Our parents went inside or somethin’ and he gets in my powerwheels and rams it full speed into Ma’s car,” she hides her face in the shadows. This was obviously a sour patch in the two’s friendship.

 ‘Yikes,’ Buffy clenches her teeth together and holds in a hiss of sympathy. Best let Dinah get the foul memory out of her system, “At least it wasn’t the garden in the backyard, eh?”

 Her friend instantly brightens up and giggles. Dinah clasps both hands together and turns back to Buffy with a sweet smile, “I know, right? Ma would’ve killed him!”

 Buffy laughs along, “Hah! I wonder why I didn’t bite BV’s head off back then.”

 “Why would you do that?”

 Both girls jump at BV staring at them behind the counter. Their eyes go wide and Buffy’s face burns red and hot enough to fry a few burgers atop of it.

 The redhead with his dark clothes, silver jewelry, and red hat raises an eyebrow, “Is CB here yet?”

 “Ah, no,” Dinah tentatively responds. “I think he’s still out with Rusty and Dustin. He comes to this part first when visiting.”

 “Oh, thank you,” he then turns to Buffy. “Hey there, it’s been awhile.”

 “Hiya!” Buffy’s voice rises in pitch and makes her face become even redder. Her hands clench at her sides, shoulders hunch.

 If CB’s older brother had noticed her worry or embarrassment, then he clearly ignores it. He stylishly raises a hand against the scarf that covers his hair, “About that toy car of yours; I’m very sorry I crashed it. I absolutely didn’t mean to ruin your birthday party back then.”

 “Ah, I see,” her guard starts to fall. She gently clasps both of her together at the front of her chest.

 “And I’m plenty sure CB would apologize as well.”

 “Oh don’t worry again it, suga’,” Dinah blushes, now remembering the sweet memory of CB apologizing to her the week after her party with a sniffling red face. “We’re best friends.”

 “Well then, if he ever breaks your heart then allow me to be the one you reach out to for some payback. Fufu.~”

 This confuses Dinah, “Eh?”

 “For a price, of course.”

 “EH???”

 BV then tips his hat and winks, “Kidding.”

 “Oh! Okay,” the blonde has no idea what to make of that. She sweats a bit, now back to zero onto what she knows about BV.

 “Okay then!” Clapping her hands together, Buffy takes a deep breath, “Would you like anything to eat, Bee? We’re fix ya up anything behind this here counter.”

 “Oh really?” BV turns to her, interest piqued, “I wouldn’t mind some pizza and a soda…”

 “Cool! I’ll just make sure we got fresh pizza for ya,” Dinah takes her cue to swivel back towards the hot food plates to inspect the pizza.

 “This is Control! This is Control!” Conner, who had been with his toys at one of the tables, comes on over to the counter, “I am hungry for my snack now!”

 All attention is on the small grade schooler with his too-big jacket and hat. His grin disappears when he skates closer and takes in the sight of the goth teen. Conner stops in place and stares up at him.

 BV stares back, perplexed.

 “Oh! Here ya go,” unaware of the tense atmosphere, Buffy skates around the counter with a plate of chicken nuggets and tatter tots with ketchup on the side. “Sorry ‘bout that. It’s not too hot for you now so you’re right on time!”

 She looks down at him, about to state that she’ll put it at his reserved table. Buffy stalls at noticing the staring match going on between the two boys.

 “Conner?” Buffy’s eyes follow him as he quickly scoots behind her.

 Conner hides behind one of Buffy’s legs. His eyes are wide and face shaded by the brim of his conductor’s hat. It’s a poor attempt to appear intimidating when he’s hiding behind a high school junior. Buffy’s slouched white socks do little to hide his small form.

 BV tilts his head lightly to one side, coy smile tugging at his thin lips, “Hello there.”

 The boy tenses, “Sneaky brake van…”

 “Don’t mind him, he’s just shy around new people,” Buffy gave a half-lie to BV. She then pats Conner’s head, “C’mon now, Dinah’s got your lunch ready for ya at your table.”

 BV watches as Conner mumbles something and hides his eyes under that oversized hat of his. Buffy wheels Conner to his table but BV gets the distinct feeling that the little guy is keeping his eyes glued to him the entire time.

 Dinah returns with a few slices of pizza to choose from and he selects the pepperoni and olives. After he is gifted a large cup of soda, BV wheels himself to a table in the corner for as much quiet as he can get in a noisy skating rink.

 Conner sits at his spot at his reserved table again with his snack. He doesn’t touch his food but rather looks at the brake van model to his left. It’s expressionless doors and couplers are pointed right at him. The boy was going to have it race with the silver electric locomotive model since it was a new gift from his mother.

 Without saying a word, he turns it around to face the rest of the food court so he could enjoy his meal in peace.

 The small monthly art market wasn’t something that teenagers went to. It always popped up in the early morning on the third Saturday of every month along the pathways of the large park on the main street. An event that drew artists from all over the state and it’s neighbors over to sell their wares and artisan trades. Metal work with bright pink and turquoise detailing. Reworked cabinets with gold lining and cow skulls and roses etched into the corners. Fresh fluffy pastries with goat cheeses and overly sugary cookies. Coffee beans by the barrel and even more being brewed or slotted onto an espresso bar.

 This was of course not a large affair. A neighborly gathering and a chance to support small artists. Rarely the trio of teen boys or their fellow classmates would go. There wasn’t really much for them to get or see until…

 “Hi Pearl!” Dustin greets his classmate with the same enthusiasm and a warm smile for all of his friends.

 Looking up from the pile of prints, Pearl instantly brightens up, “Dustin! Hi! Hello!”

 She waves both of her hands gleefully, not caring if a strong gust of wind were to take the pile of art prints with it. Her fathers are behind her, in deep conversation with a customer. Pearl has a small portion dedicated to all of her hand-made bracelets and charms.

 “Heya Pearl!” CB greets her before eyeing the free candy bowl next to her. In less than a second his hand dives into the bowl and pulls out a piece of old hard candy.

 “H-Hi Pearl,” Rusty awkwardly approaches.

 “Hello, hello,” she giggles at the trio, not picking up at Rusty’s nervousness. “Glad you could make it! You’re not the only people from school who’ve dropped by.”

 “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dustin says before eying the art.

 “Couldn’t agree more,” CB takes another hard candy out of the complimentary bowl.

 “Oh!” Dustin inspects the rack of Khandi bracelets and charms, “I’ve seen you working on these. You’re selling them?”

 “Yep! They’re taking up some space so I wanted to see if anyone wanted to take them home. Any extra money I make goes towards a college fund.”

 “Oh that’s good.”

 CB rolls away from Pearl’s jewelry but eyes the art prints, “I haven’t seen you draw before…”

 There are dragons and princesses and mages in monochromatic palettes. Pinks and blues and whites swirl together, stars shine, and dark purple outlines are given in simplistic styles. They were all fantastica and cute. CB ends up picking up one of a pink and white dragon with holographic wings. He stares at it in silence.

 “I don’t take my sketchbooks with me to school,” the pinkette admits, adjusting her fluffy sleeves. “I don’t have a lot of space in my school bag and I usually just doodle in my notes.”

 “I’ll take this one,” CB hands the dragon print to her. “How much?”

 Pearl just stares at him. CB returns the expression. There’s a tense atmosphere around the two before she squeals with delight, “Of course! It’s going to be eight dollars!”

 “Excellent,” the exchange happens and CB continues to stare at the art print. “Tell me when you make more dragons.”

 “Will do,” she winks at him.

 Rusty looks at all the wares, awestruck. Pearl didn’t hide her love of art and loved every form of art. He was more astonished that she had the drive to produce so much of it to make it a business with her parents. She was truly passionate.

 And what was he passionate about?

 He thumbs at an art print of a dragon and a knight fighting. The knight is in white armor and the dragon is blue while breathing white fire. Rusty loved art too. He crocheted and danced but was neither fast nor confident enough to do such activities often. Fixing and crafting was on the table as well and yet it was something that he found was enough to do while at his job but never outside of it unless asked. He loved to race and skate about but was only ever Starlight in the past to do so…

 “P- Pearl?” Rusty tentatively asks, throat suddenly dry for mysterious reasons, “What inspires you?”

 She blinks at him, expression unreadable. Pearl slowly raises one hand to fit against her chin and the other hand to support her elbow, expression becoming thoughtful. There is a hum, her eyes suddenly far away, “Hmm… That’s a hard question.”

 He is silent, allowing the space around the two to fade away as Pearl continues, “I guess, I have to ask myself why I want to make art? If that makes sense… Because, I love to just make whatever pops into my mind.”

 Pearl rambles now, arms falling away to make thoughtful motions, “Don’t get me wrong! I do love making whatever comes to mind but it also takes a lot of planning. I can’t take my ideas out of my head as if I were a computer…”

 Rusty gives a little laugh at that before quickly becoming embarrassed and silencing himself.

 He’s given a small smile back, “But, those ideas like to come from somewhere. I love working with colors and memory. One of my favorite things to get inspiration from is nature but I think what inspires me to make and continue making art has to be my friends.”

 Her eyes start to shine but Rusty doesn’t look within them. He stares at Pearl as she continues. Pearl gestures with her hands, “I wouldn’t be as creative or supported without the love of my friends and family. Art has always been something I’ve loved to do, even if I was frustrated when I first started and didn’t understand what I was doing. Besides giving gifts, I always find myself wanting to do better and create better art when I’m with a friend.”

 What inspired Rusty to keep skating? He thinks back to being little and skating with everyone else without a care in the world. It was a way of life in his hometown, after all. After being sick for so long and unable to do strenuous activities he couldn’t find the same stamina he had as before and almost quit. Being lost in the dark and giving up on being anything more than the sick kid in town was a future he had cried about until…

 …his friends had picked him out of the dark and he found himself wanting to get better and skate for them. Dustin cheering him on. CB bonding with him. Flam protecting him. Dinah getting him to eat better.

 “Yeah,” Rusty nods. “I understand that.”

 Pearl gives him a soft smile, “You do?”

 Nodding again, “Yeah. I wouldn’t be here without my friends. I don’t think I would be as passionate about the things I like without them either.”

 Idly, one of his hands places themselves over his chest where his broken charm hides under his sweater. It glows a soft blue.

 Pearl leans in closer to him, “I’m happy for you. To find yourself because of your friends.”

 “And you too.”

 She steps back, surprised, “Excuse me?”

 “You inspire me too, friend or not.”

 Pearl flushes and Rusty’s face grows hot as well. She turns away, “Thank you! I, uh, should get back to work.”

 “Oh- Okay,” now embarrassed, Rusty takes a step back and looks around to try and find CB and Dustin. “Good luck!”

 “Thank you again! Bye!”

 He skates off, feeling his heart thud. Rusty sweats but not from attraction, ‘Friends, huh.’

 He meets back up with Dustin and CB as they stand near the edge of the park. CB crams his bought goodies into his messenger bag as Dustin snacks on some red velvet cookies with bright white whipped cream. Rusty greets them before sitting down in the grass to rest for a few minutes.

 Dustin looks at the secondhand watch on his wrist, the glass reflecting the light of the afternoon sun. He hums in thought, “I guess it’s time to meet up with everyone at the Apollo.”

 “It’s already after three?” Surprised, Rusty pulls out his phone to double check, “Huh! Alright.”

 He pulls his backpack tighter around his shoulders after putting away his phone. His wheels clack against the sidewalk as he turns towards the direction of the roller rink and Dustin and CB form a train without a second thought before Rusty takes off.

 CB, holding onto Dustin’s belt, looks over at the larger teen’s wrist where his watch was snuggly wrapped. His eyes are attentive and glistening green with attention, “Is that your dad’s?”

 “Yeah!” Dustin grins over his shoulder at him, “How did you know?”

 “My dad was asked to repair it years ago. I think your mom asked him to.”

 “Ahhhh, that’s how she ‘repaired’ it,” Dustin gives a small laugh. His eyes look back ahead at Rusty as memories come to the forefront, “She fixed it up for him as an anniversary gift. I think it was for their twentieth?”

 “Wow. I guess they married young.”

 Rusty nods to show that he’s listening. He had heard his parents discuss into the late hours about their own friends and the parents of Rusty’s friends from time to time. Now he himself had never taken an interest or exactly understood what they were talking about since he had been young, but some slivers had made sense with time. One such piece of information was that Dustin’s parents had been high school sweethearts.

 “Yeah! They got married in college,” Dustin beams. “Mom says they waited to have Flam after they graduated and all that.”

 “The pricing on that house must have been a steal back then,” CB comments before inching his neck and shoulders to the right to glance at Rusty. “Rusty!”

 The curly-haired teen slows down a bit to answer, “Yeah?”

 “How did your parents meet?”

 “Dancing at the music hall one night.”

 “That’s all?”

 “Eyup!”

 There was more to the story, but it mostly boiled down to ‘My parents met, liked each other, and continued meeting up until they married each other.’ That was a boring story, in Rusty’s opinion.

 CB must be pouting at the simple answer so Rusty asks from over his shoulder, “How did your parents meet?”

 “Ah…” Surprisingly, CB lets loose a hint of a stutter, “Dad used to be a mechanic and he crashed mom’s car when it was in his shop.”

 Rusty is silent. Dustin is also silent.

 “But it’s fine!” CB is quick to pick up on the unsureness from his friend, waving a hand dismissively, “They met up square dancing a month later!”

 “At least it ended well,” the large teen in the group comments.

 The parking lot of the Apollo Victoria Skating Rink comes into focus and their roller train swerves into it. They fall to a stop to unlatch from one another and then skate in through the doors.

 Conner is one of the first familiar faces they meet. He passes them by, face scrunched up and red as he holds one of his toy train models in his hand, “All engines! Track closed!”

 Rusty, Dustin, and CB stared after him in silence as the little grade schooler ran laps around the arcade and entryway before Marshal could collect him. They politely keep skating. It wasn’t the strangest thing they had seen within the confines of the Apollo.

 “Well, hello there!” BV calls from one end of the cafeteria. He’s smirking over a large soda and another slice of pizza, “CB! Rusty! And Dustin, I presume?”

 CB’s mood takes a nosedive. Rusty waves back at BV. Dustin quivers for a moment before replaying, “Uh, yes? Hello?”

 “I’m BV. CB’s older brother,” the upperclassman stands up to give a polite bow. “Nice to meet you.”

 “Oh! Hi BV!”

 Grumbling under his breath, CB starts to roll towards the parts and services room to scream into his hat or clang some tools together. He doesn’t get far.

 “CB!” BV picks up another large cup of soda from the table and shakes it lightly, “Dinah poured you some soda before her shift was up. Do you want anything before Buffy clocks out?”

 The smaller redhead brakes and swivels towards the cafeteria, “FINE! I’m coming!”

 Rusty and Dustin watch him head into the dining area, “And I’ll take a basket of fries.”

 Both Rusty and Dustin give the brothers a few more waves and are left to their own devices. Rusty puts a finger to his lips in thought as a new song plays on the rink, “You know… I can’t remember the last time we skated out on the rink.”

 “Oh yeah,” Dustin agrees. “It must have been Christmas, right?”

 “Wow, yeah,” Rusty smiles towards him. “How about we do that?”

 “Yeah!”

 CB loudly slurps on his soda in-between eating a mouthful of fries at a time. Skipping breakfast had done him no favors this morning.

 BV chuckles across from him, “I take it you had a good time with your friends today?”

 “Yeah.”

 “What kind of serious boy time did you do today?”

 CB swallows, “…went to the art market.”

 “Oh good! Anything catch your interest there?”

 “This one both had vintage roller skates. I liked a pair that was red and black with silver wheels.”

 “Oh?” BV leans forward, propping his chin up with one hand and resting his elbow upon the table, “Maybe I should buy them then. They sound just like my kind of style.”

 “You already have skates that look nearly identical.”

 “True, I was only kidding.”

 CB finishes his fries, wiping his hands on a napkin, “There was one stand with red velvet cookies.”

 “Sounds delicious. I’m guessing your favorite color is still red?”

 Across from BV, in his full red and black wardrobe and hat, CB gave a tired frown, “Yeah.”

 His brother gives him a suave chuckle, “You may like red as much as I do but, between us, I’m the one who wears it more.”

 CB squints at him, “You’re wearing blue.”

 BV laughs, “Nice joke.”

 “No,” he’s given a soft shake of the head from CB. “You’re colorblind.”

 This causes BV to pause. He looks at CB for a few seconds before inspecting his own vest for a moment longer. Something in his frame shatters, “Oh…”

 They’re quiet for a tense period of time. The same few skaters making their rounds on the rink about three or four times until BV clears his throat, “How did you know?”

 “Know what?”

 “That I’m colorblind.”

 CB shrugs, “I read about it in art class. Well, a kid said he was colorblind and needed help. I read that night that the most common colorblindness is red-green. He had that.”

 “Yeah…” BV’s shoulders droop.

 “Mom also told me.”

 A nod from the older brother, “Yeah. It’s not that severe. I just can’t see as many pigments of red and green as others.”

 There’s a long sip from his soda before CB stops, “You’re still in art clubs?”

 BV perks up, grateful for a change in conversation, “Heh, yeah. Still in theatre. I’m going to be one of the leads for this year’s definitive school play.”

 “That’s good.”

 “So…” BV starts, nursing his soda with both hands, “I heard you’re in theatre.”

 CB inadvertently chews at his straw, “Yeah.”

 “Do you like it? What productions have you helped with? Do you act?”

 There’s a rough noise that escape’s CB throat and he casts his eyes upon something that isn’t BV nearby, “I’m on set and lighting.”

 “Oh! That’s cool,” BV’s soft smile returns. “I’ve always been the actor so I wouldn’t know much about being on the crew. Do you have many friends?”

 CB doesn’t respond, a TV static noise filling his ears and whitening his vision. His hands clench around his soda and he takes an angry sip, “No.”

 Now BV gets worried. He’d expected CB to act up like the hormonal teenager he was but not to be met with this kind of answer, “Oh…”

 Another angry sip of soda from CB. His eyes are hidden under the brim of his hat as he’s suddenly feeling guilty about his answer.

 BV’s lips purse, fingers threading together, “Do you like theatre?”

 CB is still silent. He tries not to bite his bottom lip but it trembles anyway.

 “CB, please talk to me.”

 The younger teen opens his mouth and then closes it. Slowly, CB pulls his head up to look back at BV but his eyes don’t meet his brother’s. With a deep sigh, CB relents, “No. I don’t.”

 “Then why are you in theatre?”

 He bits his lip this time, meeting BV’s gaze, “Because I’m not you.”

 BV blinks, “Pardon?”

 The noise of the arcade and rink floods CB’s ears and he turns away. Cheeks bright red, “I’m not perfect. I don’t want to act. I don’t want to dress nice. I don’t want to make friends with people who don’t actually like me. I don’t want to do things to impress others.”

 “What?” There’s straight confusion laced within the older teen’s voice but it goes unheard.

 “And my dad always brings up something at dinner once a week or more that you’re in some production or with friends or with mom…” CB stares back at his soda, “And I’m not doing all of that all the time. I’m just being me.”

 Pop music and laughter surrounds them as a sheet of tense silence shuts itself between the two brothers.

 BV stares at his younger brother. Utterly dumbfounded and hurt.

 Slowly, his hands fold together onto the table, “CB…”

 His brother’s eyes are hidden by the brim of his hat.

 “I like you.”

 One thumb folds atop of the other and now BV can’t look at his own brother, “You don’t try to let anyone bother you. Even when someone gets under your skin, you still fight to have the final word. You can fix and modify anything just like dad. I can’t even understand that stuff. You’re so cool, I wish we hung out more often.”

 He doesn’t notice CB is looking right back at him, astonished. His cup of soda forgotten. Straw chewed up.

 “You don’t have to impress me, or mom, or dad. You’re better at being yourself anyway.”

 CB’s bottom lip certainly did not tremble. He collected himself within a minute and tried not to sound too stuffed up, “Really?”

 “Yeah,” BV’s eyes lightly graze him. “You’re my brother. There’s no one cooler I’m happy with saying that about.”

 The younger’s face nearly splits into a grin but his lips twitch into a petite smile instead. He goes back to sipping at his soda, “Thanks, BV.”

 ‘Anytime,’ there’s a dismissive way of BV’s hand. “I take it that you’re not a fan of the theatre club?”

 CB rolls his eyes, giving a pointed expression to the metal napkin holder on the table, “It sucks. The teacher is some kind of narcissist, and everyone thinks I’m weird. They just like me for all the technical work I do.”

 “Then quit.”

 “It’s not that simple,” CB sighs.

 BV raises an eyebrow before crossing his arms over his chest and doing the same with his legs, “Oh? Why?”

 “We’re kind of near the end of the year and there’s another musical we’re about to go into production anyway. I can’t just opt out when we’re about to start on Joeseph’s Dreams and Cool Coat.”

 “CB, if you’re unhappy then it’s best to get out and let them handle it,” BV bits the inside of his cheek and tsks. “You said it yourself: They only care about your skills.”

 CB now pouts, “Hmm…”

 Seeing how there’s still something keeping his brother on the fence, BV sighs, “If it eases you, how about training someone how to do some tech before you leave? Or write a cheat sheet?”

 Now CB tsks, “I don’t know if anyone can learn from me.”

 Oh. Pride.

 BV must bite the inside of his cheek again not to snort out some laughter, “Please? Just give it some thought.”

 Quitting the theatre club really was something CB really wanted to do. No more weird icebreaker exercises and oversharing boundaries and no more judgmental looks from classmates. More time to share with friends, to fix and modify that jukebox his dad was eyeing at this antique store out of town, maybe even earn some extra hours at work to purchase his own car to modify…

 “Alright,” CB relents, fixing his gaze back on BV and leaning back in his seat. “You’ve convinced me.”

 “Splendid,” BV copies him, also leaning back. “If you’re up for it, I can also suggest trying to find other clubs to stimulate that brain of yours.”

 “We don’t have a shop class here,” small town school funding meant only one art class and maybe a guest speaker here and there to encourage a few students to try out a new passion. “I’m kind of happy just doing my thing with dad and the Apollo. I don’t even want to know what the art club does after school.”

 “Hmph! Probably just drawing stuff from life. Trust me, art club can get boring without a good museum to travel to.”

 “What about nude models?”

 “You have to be eighteen first. Then you have to be in a private art space,” BV taps a finger to his lips in thought. “I had to get mom’s permission written last year when the adult art club in Current Park was allowing students to come in and build their portfolios.”

 “Bleugh!” CB sticks his tongue out, “You looked at a naked person?!”

 “Ugh! Don’t say it like that!” BV leans over to swat at CB’s shoulder. He does his best to not glance at any of the other attendees around them incase they swiveled their heads to see what the commotion was, “Nude drawing is boring! We’re all there to draw human poses and the model gets paid. Don’t be weird about it!”

 Snorting, CB then smirks, “What? Weird about art? When is anything weird about an art club?”

 “Hah! Please,” Cameron huffs. “You’ve seen me go through art club hell. Remember that? They told us not to ‘waste time’ on collaborations and then got mad at us when we had no pieces for an announced collaboration show.”

 “Oh yeah,” CB sips his soda through a straw, nodding along as his brother vented the familiar ‘art club bullshit rant’.

 “And they had an entrance fee of three hundred dollars! An entrance fee for a club! For three hundred dollars!”

 “You’re joking,” he doesn’t notice a small smile starts to form on his own lips.

 “I wish!” An unhandsome snort escapes BV as he throws his hands up, “I quit when I was matched with someone for the end of the year show who did not have a similar art style as me and said person had tried to take total control of our project because they had favor with the art teacher.”

 “Oh stars.”

 Cameron doesn’t miss how his brother has an amused grin at his retellings but keeps it to himself as he rambled on. His brother being happy was something he hoped to see more often.

 They barely notice Rusty and Dustin approach their table after half an hour of laughs and gossip. Dustin waves at them, “Hey! Are you guys going to stay here for the rest of the night?”

 “Hmm,” BV quickly checks the time. “I don’t have any plans but I might skate around for a bit.”

 “I can join ya,” CB meets BV’s gaze, excited.

 “I’d like that.”

 “Well, me and Dustin are going to head home,” a tired Rusty joins in on the conversation. Dark bags under his eyes and a tired smile gracing his face.

 “Okay Rusty,” CB leans closer towards him. “Make sure to drink lots of water and get some rest! You too, Dustin.”

 “We will!” “Goodnight!”

 Goodbyes are exchanged and the two groups split up.

 CB finds Rusty’s eyes staring back at him before he exits the cafeteria and sticks his tongue out at him. Rusty does the same at him before the two break out into a fit of giggles.

 BV watches before standing up to stretch, collecting plates and cups to throw away, “Come on, what video games do you recommend here? We got plenty of time to waste before dinner.”

 CB’s laugh fades into a light chuckle before he grows quiet altogether. Hiding his face to the side so his brother was not to see him, he pauses to speak, “Hey. You don’t have to wear that scarf around your hair.”

 Now that causes Cameron to look at him in surprise, “Oh?”

 “You look nicer without it,” he states, voice getting muffled as he smushes his face into his shoulder. “And without the hat. Your hair’s fine the way it is.”

 There’s a soft smile that graces BV’s that CB doesn’t see. He sees how his brother is tense and calmly reaches a hand out to pat the younger’s shoulder, “Thank you.”

 “Heh!” CB grins, arms crossed in front of his chest, “Don’t thank me yet. You still have Sunday to spend with me and dad.”

 “How can I forget,” BV lets out an amused sigh. “What plans are you proposing?”

 “Well…” CB leans in close and BV takes his que to lean down a smidge to hear him whisper, “I can get you into the theatre department at school tomorrow since I have a free pass and show you around. I’m quitting this Monday so it’ll be my last time to use my pass.”

 “Ohohoho,” BV begins to chuckle evilly as the two smirk. Dark plans were underfoot. BV was thinking of all the neat little traps and tricks he could lay before the peers of his little brother who had been mistreated by the theatre department. Flash them a warning as to who they were messing with if they came after CB…

 But of course this is all just speculation. Murder is not legal and backstage can be a dangerous place. It wasn’t worth it.

 …yet he and CB laughed deviously to themselves as they rolled over to the arcade area to partner up on two player games for the night. A dark aura surrounding the two as they were also planning to rack up as many tickets as they possibly could.

 Dustin and Rusty prepare in the parking lot for their travels back home. It was been a full day of skating and fun wonderment but it was time to eat dinner and rest.

 Rusty yawns into his hand for the umpteenth time and Dustin steadily approaches him, “I think it’s time to head home.”

 “Agreed,” the curly-haired teen blinks wearily. He has work tomorrow and his muscles are aching. Bed sounded like a wonderful heaven right about now.

 They head for their usual path towards home but Rusty slows at seeing a familiar pinkette with her fathers about to enter the diner next door. The trio looked happy and Pearl was glowing with pride.

 Rusty feels a faint smile tug at his lips.

 Dustin nudges his shoulder, “Rusty?”

 “Ah, one moment,” he glides towards the sidewalk. “I’ll be right back, promise.”

 “Okay.”

 Dustin watches as Rusty steadily rolls forward and Pearl stops once she hears his beat-up wheels. Her fathers enter the diner as Rusty waves for her to talk.

 “Rusty!” She’s surprised at his appearance. Her Khandi bracelets clacking as she raises a hand to her chest, “Hello again.”

 “Hiya, Pearl,” he grins. “I didn’t want to interrupt your evening but I wanted to ask you something important.”

 “It’s fine,” there’s a faint giggle from her as her hand drops. “What do you need?”

 Her eyes are as blue as the summer sky and glisten like sapphires. Rusty’s gut doesn’t clench or twist. He feels at ease, now looking at more than her eyes. Pearl’s outfits were always top-notch and should be featured on the covers of fashion magazines. Her nails always painted and glistening like milky gel. Skates clean yet ready to party.

 Rusty was nearly the opposite in every sense of the way, or at least he would describe himself as such. He was happy to be with Pearl because she cared about him not for his appearance or the fact he had once been sick. They were lovers of crafts and jokes and loved to skate and be themselves at the Apollo. He knew what he wanted.

 “Pearl,” Rusty smiles softly at her. “Would you like to be my friend?”

 Pearl softens clasps her hands together and mirrors his smile after a few moments of silence, “Yes, Rusty. I’d love to be your friend.”