Frank's POV

I slide into a booth of the diner, taking a seat next to Alison. The morning sun magnifies through the glass window, warming up my body and revealing the dust particles floating through the air. Across from Ali, Jet Star tugs at a loose thread on his black t-shirt, wrapping it around his finger and yanking it off, while Kobra Kid watches. In the week that Detonation and I have been here, we've settled into the morning routine: meet at a table and have coffee together. Jet Star explained to us on our first morning here that they created the tradition as a way to keep some normalcy in their lives.

Party Poison loudly slams the divider between the lobby and the kitchen open with his hip, carrying a pot of coffee in one hand and a mug in the other. The steaming liquid sloshes in the pot, a few drops spilling out and travelling down the side of the glass. He approaches the table and sets his mug down on the edge, filling it with coffee before setting the pot down in the middle of the table.

"Help yourself," he yawns, grabbing his mug again and taking a swig.

"You want some?" Kobra Kid prompts, looking at the rest of us individually, and recieving nods all around the table. He slides out of his seat and makes his way to the kitchen that Party Posion had just come from. Moments later, he reenters the lobby, two coffee mugs clutched in each hand. He sets the mugs down, filling each one with coffee and handing them off one by one until everybody is sitting in silence, sipping the caffeine.

"So," Party Posion prompts, setting his mug down once again as he squeezes into the small space left next to Kobra Kid. "What kind of shit do you guys have with you?"

"Not much," Detonation answers. "Just what fit in my bag. Some spare clothes, a few knives, bandanas, canteens, spray paint. Obviously we've got our guns."

"What about masks?" Jet Star asks, raising his eyebrows.

"No masks," I respond, taking another sip from my mug. The hot liquid burns my tongue, but the effects of the caffeine are worth it. "We didn't exactly have time to build a go-kit before we legged it from Battery City. We were considering taking some masks from corpses, but it felt wrong."

"It's a good thing you didn't," Jet Star shakes his head, causing Alison to raise her eyebrows inquisitively. "Out here in the desert, we say that your mask holds your soul. Have you guys ever heard of HOPE?"

"Like, the concept?" Alison questions.

"No, not the concept," Jet Star chuckles. "There's a mailbox, we call her HOPE. When somebody in your crew dies, you take their mask to her and she carries their soul to the Pheonix Witch. Some people bring the masks of the people they've killed, sort of a dessert edition confession; repent for killing by helping their soul to safety."

"So, what? Stealing a mask is like stealing a soul?" Detonation and I had never really interacted with anybody else in the desert, save for shootouts. Everything we knew about the desert lore was talk we had heard in the city, and it wasn't exactly expansive knowledge.

"Exactly," Kobra Kid answered. "But that's why having a mask is important. Sure part of it is to hide your identity, but it's more about an insurance policy on your soul. If you're not wearing your mask when you die, your soul isn't safe. You'll be in danger and agony for the rest of time."

"That's dark," Detonation curls her lips in on themselves, widening her eyes.

"That being said," Party Poison claps his hands together, standing up from his seat, "we've got an errand to run."

"An errand?" I squint my eyes at the bright-haired boy.

"We're gonna visit our old friend Tommy Chow Mein."

Party Poison grabs his empty mug, gesturing to the others to see if anybody else is finished, and grabs the mugs that are now empty. He sets them on the bartable, shrugging as he turns around "I'll wash those later. Jet, Kobra, can you guys stay here and keep an eye on the diner? There's no reason for us all to go."

Kobra Kid nods. "If you see something I'd like, get it for me. I'll pay you back."

With that, Party Poison leads us into the kitchen and out the back door of the building.

"Wait," Ali grabs my arm and I look over my shoulder at her. "I'll be right back, I just have to grab something."

"You good?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at her. She nods and smiles at me, then takes off running back into the diner.

"What was that about?" Party Posion asks me, leaning against the car, the keys dangling from his fingers.

"No idea," I shrug, walking a few paces to join him. The car shifts slightly under our weight. "Said she had to grab something."

Party Posion makes a confused face, but doesn't press the subject further. "So," he prompts, squinting as he turns his gaze to the sky, "is it just you two?"

I observe my surroundings, not knowing where to focus. I'd usually look somebody in the face while talking to them, but Party Poison has his face turned to the cloudless sky above us. I decide to direct my attention there too. "Yeah, just Detonation and I. We're the only kids in our family."

"What about your parents? Still in Battery City?"

"No, not exactly," I chuckle. Party Poison and I glance at each other for a moment before looking back to the sky. "Our dad died in a car accident a little over a year ago, and mom died shortly after."

"Damn, that sucks." He turns his head to look at me directly. "I'm sorry for your loss."

I shake my head, "no, it's okay. We didn't have a bad relationship, but we also weren't super close or anything. I moved out right after I turned 18, and Detonation came with me. They tried, but they weren't really that great at the whole 'parenting' thing. I've made my peace with it, and I think Det has too."

Party Posion nods, turning his gaze back to the sky.

"What about you?"

"It's just me and Kobra." He smiles faintly. "Our folks are still in the city. They were terrified when we told them that we were going to come out to the desert, but they understood. They're not keen on BLI either, but they knew they couldn't survive out here. It's been a few years since we've talked."

"Did you guys have a good relationship?"

His smile widens, making his eyes crinkle and his dimples appear. "Yeah, we did. They were always really good to us- the type of parents who support our hobbies and dreams and let us make our own mistakes and learn our own lessons. I like to imagine that they're proud of us whenever they see our posters in the city."

"I bet they are," I smile at him.

"I'm back!" Detonation announces, bursting through the back door of the diner.

"Only took you ten minutes" Party Posion chuckles, standing upright off of the car. "What did you grab anyway?"

"Another errand," she grins, gesturing to her small backpack.

Party Posion unlocks the old Trans Am, holding the back door open for Ali, as I slide into the front seat.

"So who is Tommy Chow Mein?" I ask, attempting to fasten my seat belt only to realize that the buckle is missing.

Party Poison turns the keys in the ignition and the engine barely sputters to life, black smoke emitting from under the hood of the car. "Honestly, dude's kind of shady. He runs a store out here, but he's not exactly loyal to the desert- he's loyal to money, no matter who it comes from. But beggars can't be choosers, so we buy from him." He wraps his arm around the back of my headrest, twisting his body to look out the back windshield as he backs the car up. He tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth as he carefully applies pressure to the pedals of the worn-down car. "Do me a favor, Ghoul? There should be a cassette in the glove box: Mad Gear and Missile Kid. Play it for me?" He returns his attention to the front of the car, throwing it in drive and speeding off.

I open the glove box and dig around in the junk, finally finding a blue cassette tape. I hold it up to Party Posion, who glances at it and nods. The radio whirs as I insert the plastic, eventually clicking and blaring the guitar and drum beats.

Party Posion drums along on the steering wheel, singing along loudly when the vocalist begins. I laugh and crank down my window, feeling the wind whip with the fast speed of the car. The loud music, warm air, and wind hitting me as I lean against the car door reminds me of the carefree summer days before BLI took control.

I don't know the songs, but they're catchy and the way Party Posion sings along makes me smile. I look at Ali in the rearview mirror, nodding her head to the beat, and the whole scene makes me genuinely happy. Three songs pass and the car jerks to a stop in front of a building.

"We're here," Party Poison shuts the car off and opens his door, climbing out. He takes a deep inhale and leads us to the front door of the shop, holding it open for us as we enter, and following behind.

"Poison!" A man in a suit exclaims from behind the counter. "Long time no see, what can I do for my favorite customer?"

"Tommy, everybody who gives you money is your favorite customer," Party Poison rolls his eyes.

"And you give me money," Tommy grins, pointing at the red-haired boy. "What'll it be?"

"I need some masks for these two. They're new to the desert and they're not exactly well-stocked." Party Posion points his thumb over his shoulder at Alison and I, still standing by the doorway.

The shop is crowded and cluttered, but it seems decently organized. Just a quick glance around the interior shows that Tommy has a wide variety of merchandise, from cassettes to clothes to food and even ray guns locked behind the counter.

"You're in luck," Tommy beckons us closer, "I've got just the thing for the two of you." He reaches under the counter and pulls out a display of face masks, some only being large enough to cover the eyes, some only covering the mouth, and some that you pull over you head to cover the entire thing. "Whatdya think?"

"Hey Ghoul, check it out" Detonation picks up a Frankenstein's Monster mask off of the rack. "Fitting."

I chuckle and grab it from her, holding the latex in my hands. I pull it over my head and turn to Detonation and Party Posion. "So?"

"Can you even see out of that thing?" Party Posion laughs, waving his hand in front of my face.

"Yes, I can," I bat his hand away. "I like it."

"Well, it's your soul, not mine," Party Posion turns to Tommy. "How much for the monster mask?"

"For you? We'll call it $5." Tommy hold his hand out for Party Posion to put his cash in. The boy reaches into the back pocket of his white jeans and pulls out a leather wallet. He flicks it open and removes $5 worth of bills, placing it in the man's hands. "And for the little lady?"

Detonation grabs a plain white eye mask off of the display, holding it up against her face an nodding. "Just this please."

"You don't want something with some color to it?" The man inquires, pointing out a purple eye mask.

"No, thank you. I'd like to customize it myself." Alison turns to Party Poison. "Is it okay if I get this?"

He smiles and nods, then looks at Tommy.

"Just $2."

Party Posion grabs the cash from his wallet, again placing it in Tommy's hand. "Hey what kind of cassettes you got in? Kobra told me to grab him something."

Tommy turns his back to us, muttering to himself as he rummages through a cardboard box sitting on a shelf behind the counter. I make out a "got it" as he turns back to us, cassette tape in hand. "I've been keeping it aside for when one of you guys came in. Brand new from the Yeah Yeahs. Five bucks and it's yours."

"Fuckin hell, Chow Mein, I'm not made of money."

"Listen Poison, I'm trying to run a business. You're welcome to try to find somebody else to buy from out here, or you can try your luck going back to the city. Betcha the Dracs would love that."

Party Poison glares at Tommy, not moving his hand to his wallet.

"Tell ya what, I'll throw in a can of mixed veggies and a jar of peanut butter. A little gift for my favorite Killjoy."

Party Posion rolls his eyes at the obvious attempt to butter him up, but grabs the $5 out of his wallet anyway. He puts it in Tommy's hand, making the man grin victoriously as he shoves all of the merchandise into a plastic bag.

"Thank you and come again," Tommy beams.

Party Poison groans an "mhm" as he crosses to the doorway of the dingy shop. He shoves it open, the bell above it jingling as he walks through it and holds it open for Detonation and me.

"Here," he sets the bag on the hood of the Trans Am, opening it and handing the cassette to me. "Play that when we get in, I wanna hear it." He then grabs the masks and tosses them to Alison. "Go ahead and keep those in your bag."

"Hey Poison," Alison starts, sliding her bag off of her shoulder and opening it up. She places the masks into it, and pulls out a different one. I recognize it as belonging to the man who shot me. "Can we make a quick stop by HOPE?"