Song of the Chapter: Itvara - Fractal (Electro)

(Phantom's POV) 

"Don't think I don't know who you are. Are you our little Phantom?"

"I remember things. It's hard to forgive, but it's even harder to forget."

"And you ... your fate will not be quite so pleasant."

"What a shame. I find it's always the middle child who puts up a fight."

Something hits the back of my neck, bringing me back to the real world. I turn around and Noisestorm causally puts his hands behind his back, his pockets bulging with rocks. A couple of the other guys he'd been talking to snicker and he gives me a totally not-so-innocent grin. My hood feels heavy, so I turn it over and dump out six or seven rocks onto the ground.

I give my friend a look and he giggles like a four-year old getting scolded. I don't know, my four year old brother always laughed when he got caught. It made my mom's heart melt and she wouldn't punish him nearly as hard as I thought she should. When I'm a parent, I'm not going to let my kids do that. I'll be immune to giggles.

"What are you thinking about that made you so out of it?" Noisestorm asks. "You were ... I don't know ... not even alive. What's so Captivating?"

"Jensen."

"Oh." Noisestorm's teasing mood dampens a little. "Sorry." He knows how serious that topic is ... especially since I didn't even point out his song reference. "I won't bother you again."

"No, keep talking. It's distracting me. I need a distraction." I debate telling him about my previous interactions with that man, but I would rather tell him privately, and honestly, I think he's had enough surprises from me. I don't want to overload him, especially since I told him I loved him and all that ...

"Are you sure you don't just like hearing my voice?" he teases.

"Nah, your voice is annoying. I only tolerate it because the words are intriguing."

He stares at me for a second and then says, "It's the accent, isn't it? I can do others if you want. I'll do yours."

"Please don't," I protest, but he goes on imitating my voice anyway. He's not good at it. Not even a little bit. "I'm pretty sure you're just insulting me."

He laughs loudly and tosses another rock at me. I catch it and throw it back, hitting him right in the middle of his chest. "Nice shot," he mutters, rubbing where I hit him.

"I used to play basketball when I was younger," I say, shrugging. "I have pretty good aim. I was a good six inches shorter than everyone else, though, and they never passed me the ball, so I quit and started track."

"They passed up a good player, then, even if you are short."

"Meh. I was better at hitting the kids I didn't like than actually getting the ball in the basket."

"I can totally see you doing that," he laughs.

"Yeah, and at one point, the baseball coach asked me to join the team because I had good aim." I grin and then walk around him, deeper into the forest to be by myself.

I want to think some more, maybe reflect on the happy times. I find the river after a while and sit down on the rocks by the bank. Sunlight shines through the leaves and glitters on the rushing water, warming my face. I take off my hat and headphones and brush my hand through my hair. It's getting long. My sister would have made me get a haircut probably a month ago. I take off my jacket, too, and suddenly feel different ... like I'm almost a new person. I'm not hiding behind a mask or covering my past with the name Phantom. I untie my shoes and take them off, sticking my socks inside. I dip my bare feet in the freezing water and shiver, but it feels good, so I don't move. I rest my elbows on my knees and my face on my palms, closing my eyes and letting the sounds of the forest surround me. Sometimes, you need to get away from the world for a while.

I almost doze off, but then I hear Noisestorm say, "Hey, are you okay? You look like you're contemplating your entire existence."

"Maybe I am," I respond, not even bothering to open my eyes.

"Do ... you want me to leave you alone?"

"Nah. You can stay."

I hear him sit down next to me and sigh softly. We're quiet for a long time. I listen to the river and the birds and the wind and find myself more relaxed than I've been in a long time.

Finally, Noisestorm shifts. "Where did you get that?" he asks quietly.

I open my eyes and look at him, my hand instinctively moving to touch the rope bracelet around my right wrist. "Hmm?"

"The scar on your arm."

"Oh ... " I rub my thumb over the pink and white scar, debating how to answer. "A fire," I finally say. "There was a fire at my house when I was twelve - it was the fire that supposedly killed my parents and little brother. I know it wasn't the fire that killed them."

"What did?" Noisestorm asks softly.

"Jensen did. He was there. He started the fire to cover it up."

"How do you know?"

"Because why else would he try to kill me?" I touch the two scars on my face and shiver. Before Noisestorm can ask about that, I say, "He was there, in the fire. 'Why would I help you after what I did to the others?' he said. He attacked me and took me upstairs to kill me and leave me with the rest of my family ... I stabbed his shoulder with his knife and he pushed me out the window ... " I shudder again and pull my feet out of the river.

"Is that why you're afraid of heights?" he asks.

I nod and sigh, staring intently at the rushing water.

"Do you know why he tried to kill you? Why he ... killed your family?"

"Yes. I can't tell you. I'm sorry." My eyes flicker to the bracelet again and I remember the single word written on it.

He notices, but he's quiet for a moment. "I'm hiding scars on my back," he says quietly. "That's why I was so ... violent that one time. I wish I could tell you the whole story."

"The time will come." I kick some water and then find a rock to throw. I remember my parents yelling at me as a kid when I'd throw them. I always liked throwing rocks. I watch it splash in the river and toss another, and another, and then Noisestorm knocks one out of the air with his own. We laugh and turn it into a rock-throwing game, and I feel carefree and happy, like we're both twelve year old boys messing around instead of wanted rebels. After I run out of rocks, I push the hair out of my face, leaving a streak of mud on my forehead, and sigh happily.

"What do you look for in a lover?" Noisestorm says suddenly.

I give him a questioning look and notice how he didn't say 'girl'. "I don't know," I say. "Why?"

"There's a lot I don't know about you, I noticed," he says, leaning back on his hands and staring at the sky. "Learning about what a guy looks for can tell you a lot about them."

"Alright ... " I pause and think. "They'd have to be funny. They just do. If they can't make me laugh, they're out. I want someone who's kind to others and selfless, but someone who isn't afraid to say no and take time for themselves. They'd be forgiving and accepting and willing to make fun memories with me, like go places and try new things ... not much, really. I'm not too picky as long as they love me completely without asking me to lower my standards, and then earn my love back. They could be shy or loud, and they could be struggling in different parts of life or be completely stable ... they don't have to be good-looking or popular or super smart or anything the world wants them to be, as long as they love me."

"You're a good guy," Noisestorm says after a moment. "I think the world needs more people like you."

I smile a little and poke a stick into the water. I don't think he realizes that a lot of the things I mentioned can be found in him. He doesn't see them in himself. "You're better than you give yourself credit for," I tell him. "What do you look for?"

He pauses and I can almost see the gears working. He's thinking hard. "Mostly what you said. Funny, kind, forgiving, smart - because I'm an idiot, accepting. I'd like it if they were pretty, but that's not a set restriction. Besides, everyone's beautiful in their own way."

"Even me?" I tease him.

"Even you," he agrees, and I stop and think about that for a second.

I guess he's right. We are all beautiful in our own way, even me, even him.

"As long as they accept me for who I am and only help me change for the better, I don't really mind," he continues. "I just don't want someone to try and fit me into a mold. It's happened before ... but that's because I think I was too vulnerable. I was too desperate for love."

"They seriously messed up. They're missing out." I swirl my stick around in the mud. "They probably didn't deserve you, anyway. You're too good for that drama."

"Thanks," he chuckles. "If you do ... If you do marry a guy, will you adopt kids?"

"Yeah." I smile as I think about it. "A girl and a boy. Do you want kids?"

"Mm ... maybe. I don't know yet. Are you going to finish high school when this is over? I know you said something a while ago about how you had to drop out as this mess started ... during your last year? Senior year?"

"Yeah, I did ... " I think for a moment. "And I don't know. I was pretty good in school, but kids hated me because I was better than them at almost everything - except math. I suck at math. I can memorize stuff just fine, but it's when to use the right equation or whatever that throws me off. And of course, half of the track team hated me because I'd shatter a record every meet." I smile again and Noisestorm snickers. "When this mess is over, can you teach me to make music?" I ask.

"Of course." He grins at me and pats my head. "I can't crush a little kid's dreams, can I?" I give him a shove and we laugh.

We sit in silence again, until I say, "I don't care if ten thousand people know me or just ten. I just want to be remembered, you know?"

"I'll make sure you are," he says. "I'll make sure you're remembered as the bravest guy here. I'll make sure people know that even though you seem like the cold type, you're really just a cinnamon roll."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically. "You make it sound like I'm going to die soon or something."

"I'll make sure you don't."

I notice his posture change, as well as the air around him. He's determined to protect me, and I vow to return the feelings and protect him. "I won't," I say. "I'm going to grow old and have lots of smile wrinkles. You know, around the eyes, because I want to be known for smiling. Being happy is one of the hardest things to do. I'm going to die with a smile on my face. I want to spend the rest of my life laughing. I want people to laugh at my funeral and enjoy it instead of dwell on my death. Smile, because when you're smiling, it's hard to stay sad."

"I've never heard someone with so many plans about being dead." He pokes my arm and I flick muddy water at him with my stick.

"Yeah, well ... I'm not planning on dying any time soon. I'm only seventeen."

"Good." He sighs softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never lose me." Again, I pray I'll be able to keep that promise.

About an hour after that, we get ready to leave. We split into groups and divide the explosives. I put my jacket and headphones back on, resuming my 'Phantom' identity. It's getting chilly as the sun begins to set, and I'm grateful for the warmth.

"Where have you guys been?" Monstercat asks.

"They wanted to be alone," a guy from Spinnin' taunts. "What, do you love him?"

"Yep," I say with a casual shrug, walking past him as if nothing happened.

The guy starts to laugh, but then pauses. "Wait ... "

Before he can say anything else, we've already left him behind.

Our label group gathers closer to the road. We're going first, and then the others will join us and confuse the MI. Make ten men look like a hundred. I'm not sure where that quote came from ... some popular movie that came out a while ago, I think. I stopped watching movies a long time ago. I don't think I'll ever watch them the same way again, especially dystopian rebel ones.

We get our assignments and I remember that I'm supposed to be more open than the others. The MI and Jensen's group know who I am and that I'm with the Monstercat label. If I give them a target, the others can confuse them while we're at it.

I shoulder my bag of explosives and tie my bandana around my neck. "Alright, let's do this."

"Blow stuff up, get weapons, confuse, don't die," Monstercat yells at us. "Tristam, for the last time, you are not coming. You can't even walk by yourself."

I turn and notice Tristam trying to sneak into our group. He grumbles and backs up, holding on to everyone he passes to stay upright. Evee takes his arm and offers to lead him back to camp, since she's not coming, either.

"Are you ready?" Nitro Fun shouts, imitating the voice in his song, Final Boss. He gets a cheer from everyone in response, and then we're off, vanishing across the river and melting into the city.

Get ready, MI, I say to myself. We're coming for you.

And Jensen - you'll regret everything you ever did to me when I get my hands on you.

With revenge and rage on my mind, I smile and light my first firework.