#klo creates

2009. 𝘗𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥.

“Mama! Look! I'm flying!” 

Purple giggled as she flew high into the air, kicking out her feet in front of her. She swung back down, getting another strong push from her dad, sending her into the air again. She laughed with glee, the feeling tickling her stomach. 

Her mama laughed, her smile as warm as the sun above. Her daddy left his post at the swing and made his way to Orchid, taking her hand and spinning her around in a little dance. Purple took this moment to kick herself off of the swing and onto her dad's back, wrapping her little arms around his neck. 

“I'm gonna get you, Daddy!” she squealed, giggling.

Navy gave out a chuckle and moved Purple from his neck to his arms, tickling her tummy. She laughed when he reached the tickle spot just below her knee. 

“Hey, you two,” Orchid cut in, smiling. She was standing at the picnic table, preparing their lunch. “No goofing around before eating!” 

Purple immediately tore herself from her father's embrace and skipped to the table. She helped herself to a sandwich, munching happily and listening to her parents talk and laugh.

Then, something caught her attention. A single bubble, floating in the breeze, above her head, sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Mama! Look! A bubble!” she squealed. 

“Go chase it, love!” Orchid said. She gave her child a little nudge and Purple was off, reaching for the bubble with her little fingers.

Purple chased that bubble through the park. She didn't know where it came from, but she didn't care. She ran after it, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could. 

Finally, the bubble came to a halt and popped when it met contact with a branch on a tree. She stopped, panting and giggling.

“Bye-bye, bubble!” she said happily. Then she turned around to make her way back to the table where her family was waiting. 

But when she reached their spot, she couldn't see her mama anywhere. Or her daddy. She looked around. 

“Mama? Daddy?”

Her sandwich was just where she left it, and so was Orchid's and Navy's. 

Where were her parents?

Purple's little heart raced. She ran back to the playground, noticing that it was strangely empty. A thick fog had rolled in, blocking the sunlight from view. Her little legs carried her around the playground, searching for any sign of her parents, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Mama! Daddy! I'm scared!” 

She was stopped by a hand that was placed on her shoulder. She let out a little yelp.

“What are you doing out here alone, child?” an eerie voice hissed. 

Purple let out a scream.

~~~

2015. 𝘗𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 16 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥.

And then, she woke up.

She jolted and sat up in bed, yelping. Beads of sweat trickled down her neck, tears of fear poured down her cheeks, her heart pounded heavily in her chest. 

This was happening a lot, too much, lately. Her slumber kept getting interrupted by vivid, troubling dreams.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴?

~~~

~~~

The portal was long. It seemed like hours before we finally reached the end, bursting into the cool evening air. It was a relief to get out of that chaotically exploding computer, away from the menacing cursor and applications.

The black hollowhead who flew beside me didn’t say much. Perhaps he was trying to get used to the world outside his captor’s PC, or maybe he was just shy. 

We flew in companionable silence for a while, our fire burning in the air behind us. The sun began to set, casting an array of colors across the sky. Orange, pink, yellow, purple – it was magnificent, a sight I hadn’t yet seen in my short life. 

“Whoa,” I heard the black stick figure breathe out. “It’s so . . .” His voice trailed away. I could see the reflection of the sunset in his big, bright red eyes, filled with awe.

“Colorful?” I finished for him.

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice a whisper.

I couldn’t say no to that. A smile spread across his face, but that smile was immediately interrupted by a “put-put-put” sound. His fire was beginning to sputter, and so was mine.

“We should land,” I suggested. “Stop and rest for a while.”

We did just that, crash-landing onto the soft grass, rolling over on our backs, side-by-side. His breathing was heavy, and so was mine.

“We did it,” I heard him say. “We got away from that monster.”

“We sure did,” I replied with a chuckle. “You’re The Chosen One, right?”

He glanced over at me.

“That’s your name, is it not?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s me. The Chosen One.”

“Then I’m The Dark Lord,” I said. 

“Pleased to meet you,” he said jokingly. I snickered. 

We lay there for quite some time, listening to the soft sounds of the evening. There were no more explosions, no more chaos. It was just me, The Chosen One, and the sky above us.

Speaking of the sky . . .  the stars twinkled and glimmered in the silent night sky, the moon casting an eerie glow over the world. It was strangely beautiful, almost mesmerizing. 

“Wow,” I heard from The Chosen One.

“Wow indeed,” I breathed back. I could see the reflection of the stars in those big, bright red eyes of his, still filled with wonder. They were glazed over with tears, tears of joy, longing, and freedom.

Joyous, wonderful freedom.

~~~

In the box

Tears blurred his vision as the memory literally played out in front of his eyes. The gray stick figure who had captured him and put him in this white room had turned on the memory scanner and left him there. Now he sat in the lonely silence, watching his life play out  in a blur. 

I miss the sun, he thought, the sobs threatening to escape from his throat. The rope that was tied around his neck burned him as it rubbed against his flesh, but he ignored the pain. I miss the feel of flying through the sky . . . the heat of my fire . . . the feel of the wind in my hair . . . the joyous feeling of freedom . . .

Dark, my best friend, my ONLY friend, by my side.

Chosen inhaled a shaky breath. A sob came out, but he didn’t allow more to escape.

How I long to see those beautiful stars again.

~~~

~~~

“Purple, do you know how to dance?”

The question was random. Like, really random. I had no idea what Red meant when he asked me this, so I just shrugged.

“My mama and I used to dance around the house when I was small,” I said, smiling fondly. “But I never really got into it. Why?” 

“Green wants to know,” Red said back, looking a bit smug. I ignored the smug look on his face as I raised my eyebrow.

“Oh, does he now?” I glared at him from across the room. I was chilling on their sofa, and Green, Yellow and Blue were over at Green’s piano, singing. Orange was sitting beside me, drawing in his sketchbook.

“He’s probably gonna ask if you want to have a dance off,” Orange said. 

I smirked. “If a dance off he wants, a dance off he shall get.”

“Ooh. I feel something coming,” Red said.

“Best better believe it, buddy.” I stood to my feet, striding over to where Green and the boys were. Green stopped playing when he saw me coming. 

“Did Red tell you?” he asked immediately.

I nodded. “I don’t mind a dance off, you know.” 

He narrowed his eyes at me. 

“Looks like you’re in for a bit of competition, Greenie,” Blue said, leaning against the piano. “I would join, but, well, ya know . . . I’m too good.”

Green’s attention turned from me to Blue. “Oh yeah? Since when?”

“Phht,” Blue scoffed. “Since, like, forever.”

Yellow leaned over to me. “He can break dance. Green can’t.”

I nodded. It made sense now. Green, with his usual competitive spirit, didn’t normally let anyone get better than him. So I could see the heat in Green’s eyes as he and Blue glared at each other.

“I guess we’ll have to see who’s the best then,” Green said, standing up. 

“I guess we will,” Blue said coolly, shrugging. 

After a few more moments of staring at each other, Blue and Green walked off to prepare. Yellow and I watched them.

“They’re not going to let this slide, are they?” I asked Yellow, and he let out a chuckle.

“That’s for sure,” he said. 

~~~

The music pounded through the desktop as Green finished his movements with flourish, landing perfectly on his feet. I sat on the sofa, watching, quite impressed. I knew he could sing and all that, but I didn’t expect him to be that good at dancing.

I clapped as the panting Green made his way to me, Red and Orange, who were “judging” the dance off. “Nice,” was all I said.

“Yep, we see it every day,” Orange drawled boredly. 

Green cast Blue a smug look as he sat down. “Top THAT, Blue.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna go over the top and through the roof,” Blue shot back. He stood in the center of the dance floor, and nodded to Yellow to start the music.

Blue was off in an instant, his moves professional and precise. I watched, entranced, by how swiftly he moved, his feet spinning underneath his feet. When he was done, He tossed his head at Green, his hair nearly covering their eyes. (Have these guys ever visited a barber to get their wild hair out of the way???)

“I’ll have to give it to you, Blue, that was impressive,” I said, clapping. Next to me, Green gave out a growl.

“That’s not fair! Blue’s natural dance style is break dancing!” he said. He slouched back, crossing his arms, cheeks red. “Maybe if I had a dance partner, it’d make my act better.” He was silent for a moment. As I watched him, his eyes widened with realization. He looked up at me, and I stood up immediately. I knew what he was thinking.

“No. Nonononononono. Absolutely not,” I said, pacing away. “Green, I can dance, but not with you!”

“Aw Purple, c’mon!” he begged, following me. “You’re gonna let my ego be bruised by that dancing blueberry?”

“I’ll let your ego be bruised and broken,” I said. I crossed my arms stubbornly. “I’m not dancing with you, Green. Nope.”

He glared at me. “Pretty please?” 

“You heard me,” I said, like a stern mother. But then I felt his green eyes literally drilling into mine, as if he could see right through me. The way he looked at me was nauseating, and I tapped my foot. 

“You’d be helping out a really good friend,” he coaxed. 

“You don’t need help,” I said.

“YOU did,” he shot back. 

Suddenly the room felt hot. I dropped my arms. “UGGHH! Fine! But just this once then we’re done!” 

“Thanks Purp! I owe ya!” He made finger guns at me and trotted away. “Blue! Get ready for round two!”

~~~

“This. Is. Ridiculous.” 

“Shush,” Green hissed. I stood next to him, stiff as a wooden board. “Relax. You’re going to be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” I said back.

The rest of the Color Gang’s eyes were watching us, especially Blue’s. He leaned against the arm of the chair, his face almost as red as . . . well, Red’s. 

“I still don’t think it’s fair that you get a dancing partner, Green,” Blue said. “I didn’t get a dancing partner!”

“You don’t know how to dance with a partner, Blueberry,” Green said. 

“Well, I bet you I could try,” Blue said stubbornly. He stood and made his way over to me, and looped his arm through mine, pulling me away from Green. “C’mon, let’s beat him, Purp,” he said, grinning.

“Hang on, Blue, give her back,” Green said, and then pulled on my other arm. Blue’s grip on me tightened, and I jerked from Blue to Green. “She doesn’t want to dance with you!”

“Does she?” Blue shouted in retaliation. He tugged on my arm. “Right, Purple?”

“Wait, hold on a second, STOP!!” I cried, and Green and Blue stopped arguing immediately. I took a deep breath, rubbing my arms. “This is ridiculous! Guys, stop arguing! I agreed to a dance-off, but not a rip Purple’s arms off!”

Blue bit his lip and Green looked away.

“I understand that you’re both competitive,” I said. “But by acting this way, you end up hurting other people. So please, can we do something else? My arms are hurting.”

“Sorry, Purple,” Blue said quietly. Green said the same, his cheeks red, embarrassed.

“You’re forgiven,” I replied. 

Red watched from the couch, his eyes searching, curious.

“Wanna go find something to do, Red?” I asked. 

He nodded eagerly.

As he and I walked away, I could hear the others conversing about what to do instead of a dance off.

And when everyone heard Green's suggestion, they all walked away, leaving Green in the dust.

“Hey guys, a music competition is actually a good idea!!” 

~~~

Plus a bonus comic

In My Darkest Hour

~~~

Chosen watched as the cursor that carried the younger sticks flew high in the sky, above the sky grids. He'd told the orange kid thank you.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

Thank you for what? For saving him? Yeah, well, he didn't 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 like he'd been saved. 

The entire fight with Dark was going 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦. He was managing. He was doing fine. 

But then that orange kid unleashed his powers on Dark, 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬. 

Chosen clenched his fists. The anxiety welled up in his chest, and his eyes stung with tears. 

𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬.

Okay, so the fight was brutal. Sure. But Chosen never meant to end Dark's life. He only meant to stop him, to snap him out of his tyranny. 

𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬.

He didn't want to fight him in the first place. He only wanted his friend to stop trying to conquer the world… he wanted his friend back. 

𝘏𝘦…𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥…𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬.

The reality seeped in Chosen's body, and he let out a sob. A sob of confusion, of loneliness. Of mourning. 

His friend was gone.

Dead. 

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬.

Chosen was mad. Mad at himself, mad at Dark, mad at the orange kid and his little friends, mad at Noogai, mad at the world. He found himself sinking back to his knees, his chest shaking as he suppressed the sobs. 

It was all his fault.

Dark was dead.

Because of him.

He might not have been the one who killed Dark, but he was the one who started the fight… 

The stupid, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 fight!

He balled his fists, his shoulders shaking. Then he found himself rising in the air, his hands ignited to propel him forward. 

He flew. He flew to the place where the dirt and grass were blown to a mound, the earth destroyed from the explosion. He landed, his feet pattering on the grass, and searched.

He didn't know what he was searching for until he saw Dark's body. 

Chosen's heart sank at the sight of his friend, or rather what was left of him. He covered his mouth with his hand, shutting his eyes immediately. The sight was too horrific, too violent. He found himself feeling sick, that it was getting harder and harder to catch a breath. He stumbled back, leaning against a boulder. 

“This is all my fault,” he whispered through the sobs. “It was my fault…I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” 

He paced around anxiously. Even by using his powers to the best of his abilities, Dark was dead. Dead forever, dead for good. 

“I didn't mean for this to happen…” Chosen raked a hand through his hair, the sobs building up inside his chest. “I'm so sorry… I'm sorry!” He sank to his knees again, closer to the body that belonged to his friend. “Please! I didn't mean for this to happen…I'm so sorry!” He let out a sob. “If only you had…” his voice trailed off. “If only you had stopped when I told you to…” 

He stood up, his hands heating up, and grunted with frustration. “Dark, you 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵!!!” he cried, his anger and sadness mixing into one. “You wouldn’t have gotten yourself killed if you hadn't sent that virus…! Why did you have to do this??! WHY?!!” 

But of course, Dark couldn't hear.

Chosen let out another pained grunt, the tears rolling down his cheeks. He stared at the body on the ground. That was Dark…

𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦.

The sobs came out. Chosen fought the anxiety, bursting into the air, the cuts and bruises on his arm throbbing, but he ignored the pain. 

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. 

He finally landed on top of a mountain, far away from the site of the explosion, and sank to his knees, letting out a pained scream.

But the pain didn't go away as he hoped it would.

No, it would linger, the loss sticking to him for the rest of his life.

And he would always, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, regret it.

~~~

~~~

Yellow was excited. He'd been in Minecraft with the others earlier, following Green as he recorded his vlog. Now, they were both editing the video.

“Show this part where I'm jumping!” Yellow chattered excitedly. 

“Erm, actually,” Green said, sounding much less enthusiastic. He bit his lip and pulled out his phone. “I'm gonna have to cut this part out.” 

“Huh?” Yellow's shoulders dropped. “Why?”

Green held out his phone so Yellow could see. He had YouTube open, and Yellow was looking at a comment that made his heart fall.

“Yellow is pretty useless here lol”

Yellow blinked. “What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“It means you're no longer part of the video.” Green shrugged simply, grabbing the footage from the timeline and tossing it into the recycle bin. Yellow watched his swift movements, his fists balling with rage. 

His eyes brimmed with tears. He had so many things he wanted to say. But he didn't say anything.

He was too hurt. 

Green didn't care, anyway. He even sang quietly to himself while he continued to edit, seemingly ignoring Yellow's presence as he worked. 

Yellow walked away silently. Green didn't notice.

𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘐'𝘮 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 

𝘐'𝘮 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴.

Those words hit Yellow harder than Red's fist during their playful sparring matches. He sank to the couch cushions, stifling a sob. But his efforts were useless, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 was, and he started sobbing quietly.

He sat back in the couch cushions, hugging his knees close to his chest, his sobs muffled by the fabric. 

Green, his dear friend. Where did he go? He wasn't acting like the Green Yellow knew. He wasn't playful anymore. He just sat hunched over his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his silly comments. And those silly comments meant more to him than his closest friends. 

Yellow's sobs reduced to sniffs. His tears poured down his cheeks, wetting his glasses. The hurt spread as he thought more about his friend. His dear friend, the one who was slowly drifting apart. 

They had their disagreements sometimes, yes. But that didn't stop their bond from breaking. It never had, and Yellow promised it never would.

But he was afraid it just did. 

It wasn't until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder when he tried to stop crying. 

“Yell? Are you okay?”

Blue.

Now with his best friend by his side, Yellow leaned into Blue's embrace, sobbing like the absolute useless coward he was. Blue hugged him close, comforting him. 

“Ssh. I'm here,” he said quietly. “It's okay.”

Yellow didn't tell Blue what had happened with Green. He didn't need to. Blue didn't need to hear it. Yellow just needed the hurt to be healed. 

Yellow's sobs reduced, and he sniffed out, “Th-Thanks, Blue. F-for being here. I don't know w-what I'd do without you.” 

“That's what best friends are for,” Blue said, smiling warmly. 

A while later, Blue was still by Yellow's side. But so was Red and Orange. After seeing Yellow's distress and Blue trying to comfort him, Red had dived into the pile of hugs, his childish behavior cheering up Yellow a little bit. Orange had joined in too, turning the hug pile into a giant hug pile. Yellow began to feel a bit better with his friends by his side, enveloping him in a warm embrace. 

But they weren't all there. Green was missing, and that empty spot on the couch could only be filled if Green was sitting in it. 

There For You (2)

Happens right after the Influencer Arc.

~~~

From his spot on the couch, Green chuckled as he watched the others finish their game of basketball. They were all so silly, just having fun together. He wondered what he’d missed while he was absent. 

Green had been playing with them earlier, but had stopped to take a break. And contemplate. Everyone was acting so nice, as if nothing had ever happened, as if Green was back to his old, playful self.

But he wasn’t. He’d been completely changed, with a new idea and mindset. There was still that awful feeling of guilt that weighed him down. He’d treated his friends so, so horribly. And yet they were laughing and playing as if he hadn’t. 

Just then Orange came jogging over, panting from running around. His hair was messy – again – and he was sweating, but he had a huge smile on his face. However, his smile faded when he saw Green slumped on the couch.

“Hey man, you all right?” he asked, plopping down beside Green, his eyes curious.

“Mhmm.” It was a lie, and Green knew, and so did Orange.

“Uh, no you’re not,” Orange objected. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“That look when you’re thinking about something.” Orange winked. “Are you okay, though?”

Green bit his lip. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. “Well . . . no,” he said quietly, too ashamed to meet eye contact with Orange. 

“Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Orange’s voice was soft and gentle, like a friend who really, genuinely cared for him, a stark contrast from the cold and unloving comments Green had received from his viewers during his influencer era. 

“I . . . I don’t know how you guys can be so nice when I was so rotten to you,” Green said. He could feel the tears threatening to come but he refused to let them out. Orange’s gaze held, his expression sympathetic, silently telling his friend that he was there to listen. 

“I don’t know why or how you forgave me . . .”

“Green . . .” Orange was cut off by Green.

“I mean think about it,” he said, his voice shaky. “I dropped you into lava in a stupid prank, I let you guys get trapped by Green Screen, I completely ignored you . . . I thought I didn’t need you guys anymore, when the truth is . . . I did, but I ignored you . . . I’m such a jerk.” 

“Green. Hey.” Orange put a hand on Green’s shoulder. Green finally looked, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re not a jerk. You’re our friend. We’re always ready to forgive you, because we care about you. We love you, Green. I don’t think anything could stop that.”

“But —”

“But nothing.” Orange’s smile was warm. 

Oh, great. Here come the waterworks . . .

Unable to stop them, Green let the sobs come through. The tears wet his face as he sniffled, leaning into Orange’s embrace. His hug was warm and loving, a silent promise of their unbreakable bond. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Green felt better when he let it all out. He pulled away, wiping his eyes. “Thanks Orange,” he sniffed, his smile shaky.

“It’s what friends are for,” Orange said. 

“Hey! You guys! Wait for us!” Red’s indignant voice cut in from across the desktop. He abandoned the game and dived onto the couch, hugging Green like there was no tomorrow. “WE LOVE YOU, GREEN!!!” he hollered.

“Ow! My ear,” Green chuckled. He hugged Red back, like he was the little brother he never had. It didn’t take long for Blue and Yellow to join the hug pile on the couch, welcoming Green back into their open arms, ready to forgive. 

Because that’s what friends are for. 

~~~

~~~~

He falls to sleep. It's a troubled, restless sleep with scattered, unreadable thoughts plaguing his mind, but it's a sleep nonetheless. 

His mind drifts away, away into nothingness, off into the peaceful oblivion of his dreams. 

𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘙𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵? 

𝘕𝘰. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 

𝘍𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘺, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘱.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦? 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮? 

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭. 𝘚𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥. 

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨…𝘞𝘏𝘖 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨? 

𝘚𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 

𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘯 𝘖𝘯𝘦.

𝘓𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.

𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦.

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘈 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘊.”

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. 

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 

𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘈 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭.

𝘈 𝘴𝘰𝘣 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵. 

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 

𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴. 

“𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.” 

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘶𝘱, 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. “𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳.”

“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸,” 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦.

“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺? 𝘞𝘩𝘺??!!” 

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘹𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘯.” 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰, 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨.” 

“𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴. “𝘠𝘰𝘶…𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.” 

“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

“𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

“𝘕𝘰. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘰.”

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮. “𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦.” 

“𝘕𝘰.” 

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱.

“𝘕𝘖!” 

“𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦.

“NO!! MITSI!!” 

Vic bolts upright, his shoulders heaving as he pants heavily. His heart beats in his chest, sweat trickling down his neck. He stares at his hands. They're bruised, but warm. 

As if someone had been holding them.

Why did it feel so real? 

Why did it hurt so much? 

His sobs give way as he lets them out, weeping into his pillow.

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦.

~~~

~~~

Alan stared in horror at the huge amount of money that Red had clicked in. $18,547,808. He clenched his fists, inhaling a deep breath. He exhaled, slowly, the air coming out with a hissing sound. He forced himself not to get mad. They were only stick figures. And Red, well . . . he was Red. Forcing his anger down, Alan pulled out Adobe Animate and typed a message, his fingers pounding harder on the keyboard than he meant.

[red ya little menace]

From the other side of the screen, Red could tell that Alan was upset. No, not upset. FURIOUS. He gulped, chuckling nervously. 

“I-i-i-it was Green and Yellow’s fault!” he blamed, pointing at the two sticks. They were helping each other up from when they’d been thrown across the desktop by Alan in his attempt to stop them from clicking the button. 

“It wasn’t me! It was Yellow!” Green cried.

“Was not,” Yellow said, crossing his arms.

Red glared at them. His eyes said “Help me out here!” but no one did. So he glared at Blue. “Your fault,” he said.

“Wasn’t,” Blue said innocently. “Blame Orange. He’s the one who wanted to save the world.” He shot a look at Orange, who was at least trying to be innocent.

“Hey! It was a cool dream!” Orange argued. 

“You and your dreams,” Green taunted. “Alan, blame little Sleeping Beauty over here for his silly little dreams!”

“Hey, we were actually saving the world,” Orange said crossly. 

“Okay, okay, enough,” Yellow broke in, stopping Orange and Green before they could use violence. “Whatever it was and whoever started it, over 18 million dollars have been wasted on Alan’s part! Do you know how much that is??”

Red tried to calculate the massive amount in his head. “Uh . . . more than we have in all our piggy banks combined,” he squeaked.

“Exactly.” Yellow sighed, crossing his arms again. “We need to figure out a way to get Alan’s money back.

The cursor clicked, catching everyone’s attention.

[dont worry guys, i got it fixed] was the simple message from Alan. (The lack of good grammar and correct punctuation hurt Yellow’s eyes, but he ignored it.)

“How?” Orange asked, the orange text popping up above his head.

[i called Team Seas and explained the mistake, theyre gonna give me my money back]

“That was almost too easy,” Blue laughed.

“But what about saving the world?” Orange asked indignantly. 

It took a while for Alan to reply.

[how about we give them ten dollars]

“Fair.” Orange had a defeated look on his face.

[now that thats settled, i have a little job id like for you to get done for me while i work on this animation.]

“Uh-oh, punishment,” Green hissed. Red backed away, trying to look innocent. It totally wasn’t his fault that Alan was temporarily broke.

“What is it?” Orange asked. 

Alan’s reply was simple.

[banking ;)]