B-Side

Ever will eventually get back home, but I think it’s important to know that something terrible has happened away from his eyes, so I’ll let you in. Rhea will not come home. No one will ever have an account of what happened- well, except for me, of course.

The young professional was in a cheerful mood when she left the house. Her usual chipper demeanour was amplified by the fact that she was on her way to assist some menial heroes of hers, a task she was ready to take on at full force — not that she would have given anything less for anyone else. She wondered how things were going with her brother and his potential new friend. She knew- thought- that she could ask all the questions she wanted to when she’d get back. “What’s he like?” “Do anything fun?” “Still hate his voice?” She figured her sibling would be on his way back by now, but there was no time to linger. She planned on picking up some food for the band and the rest of the crew; not that there were that many of each group. Sure, it’d been a long time since she needed to do petty tasks for the studio, but she just never shook the habit. Besides, she didn’t mind how extra delighted everyone looked when she walked in with sanity and morale fuel for everyone. Classical conditioning, she’d think, remembering the words of her sibling after he’d read about it in a book. If people associate my presence with something good, they won’t be able to help but smile when I’m around. That’s what she thought, and in all fairness, she was right — partially. Even without snacks and coffee, no one could resist the contagion of sheer joy and vivacity she carried. Her conduct was true, and her hope, relentless.

After a brief but deliberate trip to her favourite grocery store (there is a closer one, but the lighting inside of it made her uneasy), she was finally on her way to Dual Shriek Studios. Walking in every day felt the same as the very first day she was on board. Well, maybe the second day. Regardless, there wasn’t a single time she dreaded going in, except for the one time Ever had gotten horribly sick for a few days. On those days, she would simply rush through her work the best she could and deal with the consequences later so she could get back to him, something she felt mild regret for. But wouldn’t anyone do the same if the person most dear to them was so unwell? She is blameless, but not faultless. She parallel parked into her unofficially designated spot, not worrying about the metre since it was past 7 o’clock. The studio was known for offering strange hours to bigger names in their respective industries, so while infrequent, this timing was not unusual to her. Rhea grabbed the large tote bag of consumables for everyone and got out of her car, getting the key to the building ready ahead of arriving at the door.

Because of the odd hours, there was no one at reception to greet, so straight to the larger of the recording rooms she went. She swiftly made her way down the hall, again preparing the key to the room’s door before she remembered that the crew probably wouldn’t lock the door back up if they were waiting for her.

She opened the door. This couldn’t have been avoided.

There was an impossible amount of varying shades of pink and red matter from the floor to the ceiling. There was no scream to escape her. To scream is to react, but she wasn’t even sure of what she was looking at. The carpet was soaked in darkness, and the essence of life had stained the walls. Something stood in the middle. A stranger, a fulcrum. Long tendrils with varying thickness either extended from it or toward it. They pulsed and dripped the same colour on the walls. For a moment she thought they could have been a mess of tangled wires- it only made sense in a recording room- but they were far too thin to be that. She couldn’t see much detail from where she stood, but she was able to assume that there were thousands of threads emerging from the origin point; the visitor. What exactly those threads were or what they were for, she did not ever know. Her eyes continued around the room, focusing on what matter she could see, and judging by the six, fist-sized, pulsing masses on the floor, there suddenly existed a scream, but Rhea had well internalised the art of keeping oneself silenced. Tears pooled beneath her eyes so heavily that although she couldn’t blink to give herself even a moment of relief from the landscape before her, they raced down her face. Her friends. People she would get to know. Finally, herself. She only had one question for the one that stood over it all. Human in shape, disaster in soul.

“Who… are you…?”

Her very last thought was if Ever would get home safely and find the strength to continue without her. She was broken by knowing his devastation, but faithful that he would refuse to give up. He will live on. He will meet others against his solitary nature. He will learn that while the wounds that come with love are deep and severe, they are less frequent than the lingering misery of indifference and loneliness, and are worth something more. Meaninglessness.

For now, however, she has myself to deal with.

Although, I must admit, for once, I’m unsure if I’m as strong as I think I am.

Nowt to do about that now.