⫸——⫷

Right after Wally left, you took the gift that he had given you earlier into the living room, sat on the couch, and opened it.

Enclosed in the bright red bag, beneath a wad of blue tissue paper, was a canvas. The painting featured you, Wally, Julie and Barnaby smiling in a field of flowers. The painting was spectacularly well done. There were several small details hidden in the painting; your pupils were shaped like hearts, and the flower's colorful petals all stemmed off of tiny, unblinking eyes.

When you reached into the bag again, you felt a prick on your finger and hissed in pain. Had Wally put a scorpion in here or something?

Cautiously, you reached in once again, only to feel a smooth, plant-like texture. It was a beautiful rose. Of course Wally would put a prickly rose in the bottom of a bag full of tissue paper. You put the rose in the vase on your living room's coffee table, the very same vase you bought in town with Wally. It still held the bouquet that he had given you days ago and now held the new rose in addition to that. Then, you sat back down on the couch with a sigh and opened his letter.

The hearts included on the letter's face reminded you of the kisses Wally had just given you, and the thought of them made you blush.

That night, as you lied in your new bed once again, you were kept awake with thoughts of Wally and Julie, but eventually, you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

⫸——⫷

The next day, which was a crisp Wednesday, you went to work, then went into town and bought some home decor. You also bought some groceries and some new clothes, including a fancy set that you planned to wear to Poppy's Halloween ball, which was on Saturday, October 17th — only 3 days away. After that, you went back home, arranged the freshly purchased decor around your home, and put your new clothes and groceries away.

The rest of your Wednesday was quiet, your evening mostly full of reading. On Thursday, you knocked on Julie's door and invited her out to lunch. The two of you picked Sally up on the way, then went out to a neat little salad bar in town. Sally talked a lot about the play that her and Wally were starring in and kept hinting at secret plot twists.

On Friday, you worked again in the morning, only to find Wally waiting for you outside of the post office when your shift was over. The two of you went on a nice walk, then grabbed dinner with Barnaby. No kisses were shared, but Wally's flirting was so incessant that you just wanted him to kiss you to relieve some of the tension between you two.

On Saturday, the day of Poppy's ball, you woke up feeling refreshed.

The day was chilly, but not chilly enough to turn on the heat, so you cracked open some windows and let the fresh outside air infiltrate your home. The place still smelled a bit dusty; perhaps you could buy a few candles.

Your anxiety about settling in had lessened over the past couple of days, but you still frequently worried about your family. You planned on going to Wally's house before Poppy's ball to ask him if you could use his phone to call your family. It was finally time to try and reach out.

As you showered, you wondered if going to Wally's house for the phone call was a bad idea. You knew that Home communicated with Wally through the phone; would Home try to infiltrate your phone call or prevent it from going through? Would Home be able to alter any words that were said between you and your family if the call did go through?

You decided to go to Wally's anyways. You would ask him all of those questions once you saw him.

You dressed in some comfortable clothes and tidied yourself up. The ball was at 6 P.M. in Poppy's barn. It was only 1 P.M. right now, so you still had several hours before you really needed to get dressed up.

You decided to visit Wally now, perhaps simply because you were excited to see him. After running to the kitchen and grabbing some crackers as a snack, you left your house and began the walk to Home.

⫸——⫷

After knocking twice on Wally's front door, you figured that he was not home.

Just as you were about to turn and head back to your place, the front door gently opened. You peeked inside, wondering if Wally was there, or if Home had opened the door for you instead. Lo and behold, Home had opened it, for Wally was absent.

You briefly debated going back home anyways. This was probably an invasion of Wally's privacy, especially if he was not home. But maybe he was just distracted with a painting and did not hear you knock...

With a sigh, you stepped inside of Home. You patted the wall next to you and said, "Thank you, Home. Please don't try and kill me."

Home closed the door behind you. Its hinges creaked as it clicked shut.

Tentatively, you stepped further into Wally's house, glancing around. Everything looked like normal, except for the fact that Wally was missing. You half-expected him to jump around some corner and scare you.

You walked deeper into the house, where the staircase, office and bathroom were. The third mysterious door that you had only noticed when Home tried to trap you was missing entirely, as if it had never existed. Perhaps that was one of Home's capabilities; the list of Home's mysteries was steadily growing in your mind, and you did not particularly like it.

Next to you, the door to Wally's office opened, and the light clicked on. Again, as you peered beyond the open door, Wally was nowhere in sight. Just as you were stepping inside of the office, you heard a loud voice from upstairs belt out a song lyric.

You frowned at the ceiling. It sounded like Wally. Maybe he was showering.

Your heart raced then, for two reasons: first, because images of Wally showering briefly flickered through your mind, and second, because now that you knew where he was, if you walked into his office, you would most definitely be snooping. And that was not kind.

But Home had invited you in and was now inviting you into Wally's office. Surely it would not hurt to just peek around, even though the last time you were in here, you saw a very disturbing painting.

So, you stepped further into the office. It was cluttered; the shelves looked messier than the last time you were in here, and Wally's desk was coated in papers. His old rotary phone was on the desk as well.

You glanced at the papers on Wally's desk. The majority of them looked like a script, probably for Wally's play. However, one of the papers was a news article. You picked it up and, upon reading the headline, felt your heart jump into your throat.

You. They were talking about you.

You threw the newspaper back down on Wally's desk, feeling each of your breaths hitch in your throat. Your heart was pounding relentlessly. Using your hands to wave air into your face, you paced around the office, inhaling and exhaling like you were running a marathon.

You already knew about the article. Why did finally seeing it with your own eyes fill you with such panic? You assumed that seeing the article would have given you closure of some sort, but no. Instead, you felt like you were going to die.

Without thinking, you quickly stopped pacing and snatched Wally's phone up off the desk. Using your finger, you spun the dial until you had finally inserted the entirety of your mother's phone number into the receiver.

The phone rung several times. You waited, feeling tears sting the back of your eyes.

You just wanted to hear their voices. You just wanted to make sure they were alive, that they knew you were not who the news made you out to be.

After a moment, a click sounded, and your mother's voicemail began to play.

Your breathing nearly stopped. Although she had not picked up, this was her voicemail. This was still her phone number.

Her voicemail beeped then, implying that you were supposed to leave a message. You cleared your throat and said, "Hey, mom. If you're hearing this, just know that I'm okay, and that I have a lot of explaining to do. I'll call you again soon. I... love you. Please be okay."

Your hand was shaking as you set the phone back down on the receiver.

You hated this. All of it. You wished your family was here with you now, you wished that horrible news article was never printed, and of course, you wished that those people had never blackmailed you in the first place.

There were tears running down your face. You had not noticed them until now, so you took a moment to wipe them away. You needed to get out of Wally's office and take a second to breathe, because it still felt like there was a huge elephant sitting on your chest, crushing your lungs and bones beneath its weight. You turned around to go, and shrieked when you saw the figure standing in the office's doorway.

It was Wally. There was a blue towel draped around his waist, leaving his top half uncovered. His pompadour was down, letting the wet, curly blue locks of his hair fall down over his face. He was smiling, of course, and his hands were crossed over his chest.

"Oh. Hey," you said.

"Hello, (Y/N). To what does my office owe the pleasure?"

You wiped at your face again, attempting to make sure that you looked presentable. You coughed and sniveled, then said, "Home opened the door for me, so I used your phone. To try and call my family."

This was when Wally finally seemed to register that you had been crying. His arms fell to his sides, and his smile faltered slightly. "Did they... answer?"

You shook your head 'no'.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

You shrugged.

Wally approached you then. He put his hands on your right shoulder and guided you out of the office. He took you to the living room and gestured for you to sit on the couch. Then, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. A strand of his hair fell over your eye, leaving several dewy droplets on your skin.

"Wait here," he said. "I'll get dressed and pour you some coffee, okay? Then we can talk."

"Okay," you said quietly.

With that, Wally left. You sighed, put your face in your palms, and tried to stop yourself from shaking. You felt so good this morning, and you still had the ball to attend later. You regretted even coming here in the first place; of course you were going to be reminded of your past and the position you put your family in.

In that moment, you wished that you could give each and every one of your blackmailers a slow, painful death.

⫸——⫷