“Excuse me?” the boy with the glasses said. He put his phone on a flat part of the tree and put a bottle on it, making a little bit of light. “Why me… what?” He was not pleased to see the little one. “What are you doing here?”

“No special reason.” Lie.

“Just as I.” Another lie.

They silenced each other. No big intention to talk to each other. But they still felt a certain urge. ‘I can feel him…’

“What do you see, when you look at me?” asked the boy with the glasses. He knew more than the others.

‘Should I be honest to him? Or rather avoid his questions?’ Chandler thought. ‘But on the other hand… I want to know…’

“There’s something I have to know. When I look at you… there is this strange feeling…” Chandler said. The smoke… or whatever it was… behind the other boy catched his attention. It was black and seemed alive. Since it was dark, it shouldn’t even have been visible, but it was. Almost burning into his eyes.

“I see ordinary things. But it feels known. Like pain and hate. But also fear and doubts.”

“That is what you feel, huh? You may be right. Maybe, you still don’t see anything.” The boy jumped of the tree. “Do you know, what I see, when I look at you?” He seemed different. At this noon in the food store he looked like a fragile guy. Doing nothing than sitting around, doing nothing in particular. But now… he looked disturbing. His whole body was massive, strong… at some points grotesque. But was it real? As if it was warping.

Chandler gasped, as the guy came closer. He walked slowly and analyzed him. “What I see… is what happened. What you did and probably will do.”

“I should believe, that you can look up my future?” Chandler said.

“No. I just see what you are. And what is inside of you. And what you pretend to be.”

He clinched his shirt and the bench. He got tense, as the other boy hit a nerve. “Then tell me, since I don’t know it anymore.”

While both of them experienced their inner selves, Timothy struggled with going or not. “I’m going crazy here… the second time it happened today… why can’t I control myself?” He thought, if he really had a mental illness. Maybe, the reason for his judgment was a different than he thought. Maybe, all he thought about the incident with his Julienne was different than he thought. Maybe… the way Bethany, and many others reacted, was right? “Am I sick?” he asked himself, while he stared at his own reflection.

Seeing nothing much. Same as after Julienne died, he was empty. Soulless. Until he met someone. And the one he met, he just pushed away.

“I must be,” he said and rushed out of the building. With Chandlers stuff he ran. But where should he go? Where could he be?

And there in the dark again.

“You are a lively person. Positive and full of life. With some pain, but who does not have some? Still there is more… a neediness… a dependence. And something in the shadows. There is someone else. He is hidden, while the other pushes himself into the light. He has dark thoughts, is unsure. Hurt. And has an artful soul, but not as you know.” The guy came closer to Chandler. Closing the distance more and more, in many ways.

“Another, what?” Chandler asked, with a fire in his eyes. “What is inside of me? Tell me, I beg you!” There was no fear anymore. It did not matter how this guy looked like a maniac that did not wash himself for years, and then again like a bulked monstrosity. Chandler was determined… or maybe just desperate… to know more.

“That’s refreshing,” the guy with the glasses said. “You saw a little glimpse of it. Your friend as well, I feel it. You made your first experiences with them.”

“Them… what is it? What are they?” Chandler asked. He got nervous as the other stopped. He just looked, and thought. Or planned. ‘Is he toying with me?’ The blue-eyed thought. “Why aren’t you answering? You know more! I need to know it… ME!” He lost his control. His eyes started to shimmer, in an azure blue, more than ever before. Sweat dripped down from his forehead, parts of his hair, his palms were wet.

And his legs shivering.

“You’re so impatient,” the other said. “But I understand what he sees in you. Your soul is more than from most others when it shines through. You are strong, and a true cutie.” He smiled and petted Chandlers shoulder.

“W-what?” the little one said and kept his distance. Now he was grounded again, back to his senses. “Stop with this mockery. Just tell me, please…” he said. His voice was not as loud anymore as before.

“A shame. Just when I started to like you,” the boy with the glasses said and leaned back on his tree. “There’s not much more to say for now. Just put the pieces I gave you together, it’s not that hard. When you found out, I’ll tell you more.”

He remained silent. “Can’t we just skip that?”

No matter what Chandler said, the boy with the glasses remained still. His eyes closes.

The blue-eyed stared at him, looked at his black hair again, his big, green glasses and his fragile stature. Now he seemed normal again, just like at the first meeting. ‘Pieces.’ He kept thinking.

Timothy struggled with finding him. ‘Oh god where could he be?’ He ran the almost the whole way to the restaurant back. Sadly the park he passed long ago. Almost back at the restaurant, he saw it in the distance. And the outer lights, which were the only that were still on. He saw nobody, not the slightest silhouette. A few cars passed the roads beside it, but there was no one. ‘What was I even thinking? Why should he go back there?’

He didn’t turn and ignored the restaurant , followed the street further instead. Further away from his beloved. ‘Where could he be? I don’t even know where he lives…’

He ran, until he fell down in front of a intersection. His pants ripped, his left knee was scratched and started bleeding. A mix of red and black, a lot of dirt was flooding out, it was a deep cut. ‘Perfect!’

And the choice in front of him. Further on -Levi Road-, following the -Aberton Street-, which goes left and right? ‘Could he live in the middle district?’ he thought. His grandfather picked him up at Bar 8, was what he remembered. ‘He can’t live near… could he?’

And he reminded a certain feeling. A pressure in the back of his head. A tingling. He turned around, and stared at the way he came from. But he saw nothing. ‘What is it?’

A look at the blue-eyed’s phone. ‘Never…’ He walked back. ‘Would he?’ He started running. ‘He has no phone, ran out of my apartment, it’s pretty dark and he has no money. Definitely!’