Adam paid no mind to the security guard trying to question his early departure; he passed the card by the reader, it flashed green, and the gates rotated smoothly like butter. The system let him leave; what the fuck was the professional scarecrow going to do about it?

He wondered where he should go until it was time to clock in. Somewhere warm would be nice--

Oh, right. With everything going on. He totally forgot to get gloves and stuff.

Well, it wasn't even lunchtime yet; he had plenty of time to drop by the mall and get himself bumbled up. He could also have lunch at the food court. Lord knows he could use a tear after the shit day he had so far-- No, not in the budget... Well, 10Cr wouldn't kill him, right? He was on top of hygiene products; his school materials and clothes were all in good shape... He had been behaving well with his finances; he-- Wait, 12,77Cr on McDonald's, 21,74Cr spent on food at the festival, 10,98Cr on an offering for Mark... That was a lot of money in the span of a few days...

Now, putting 30Cr at least for a decent pair of gloves and a scarf, and 60-- No, 70Cr at least for a proper date with Cassie in the near future.

He would have about 203,53CR left in his account.

Well, that should be enough for an emergency, right? He really didn't want to dip into his savings if something important like his phone suddenly broke...

Okay, so no treat. He could instead drop by the supermarket next to the mall and get himself one of those pre-packaged "fresh" mishmash for 2,50Cr, and refill his bottle of water in the bathroom.

Well, it sounded like a plan.

(...)

The mall, as usual for a weekday, was pretty sparsely populated. Well, sparsely populated compared to the weekend crowds. So, he was able to get around pretty fast and calmly browse through the ample selection of in-season stock, AKA winter clothing.

He found some nice black mittens at a discount, around his size, didn't slip easily from his wrist, were pretty soft and well insulated. Was 12,99Cr, now 5,99Cr, what a steal. The scarf was a bit more challenging. There were plenty of options, but they were all either gaudy or a thin, itchy piece of cloth that wouldn't do shit. He eventually found a thick bark blue scarf, at a good price too, only 13,99Cr. He was more partial to blacks and grays, but a pop of color wouldn't kill him as fast as that weather, and it was pretty looking blue.

Honestly, he had come there expecting to spend an arm and a leg, but it seemed the universe had decided to throw him a bone.

Adam smiled, looking towards the direction of the food court.

Maybe he could treat himself to something nice after all...

(...)

Maybe his mom and Spice didn't know what they were talking about. Maybe there was some mystical being up there, keeping a tally of every time he dared to be happy, to let his hair down, to breathe...

They had given him the perfect mittens and scarf at a wonderful price, but no, he had to be greedy and get himself a custom no bredy bowl from fucking Subway! So there, now god knows if Mark was telling the truth about “David's train being delayed” or if he had done something to him, and he was strapped to the passenger seat of a car with blacked-out windows, being taken to god knows where, to do god knows what, with a masked guy in the driver's seat!

He sank into the seat with his hands over his face.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It's fine. It would be over before he knew; he would be back with his friend, and whatever Mark wanted him to help this guy with would be just a distant memory.

“So,” The driver broke the silence, lowering the base heavy music, “You're Adam, Mark's infamous foil.”

“...Foil? Like, tin foil?”

“...No, like a foil, a character type thingy? Look, it's some theater nerd shit, hell if I know.” The masked man said, his monotone robotic filter letting through some... annoyance, the purple skull on his electronic mask momentarily growing a pair of eyes to roll. Was it just him or...

“Do you not like Mark?”

“Well, I don't dislike him, but... He can be really corny and annoying.”

“And a dick?”

“Yup, an over-theatrical dick. Like, he sometimes just... talks weird, and it's so stupid, you know?”

“Yeah. He said I was a god turned fool, whatever that means.”

“Oh, yeah, he sometimes calls you that too. Ugh.” The driver said with a little nod.

“...What does that even mean?” Adam questioned.

“Too? It's like 'as well'.”

“No, a god turned fool. What does that even mean?”

“Oh. Yeah, you were like, untouchable or something? He said everyone loved you, practically kissed the ground you walked on, but you barely gave them the time of day, didn't show them more than basic courtesy. Like a god, receiving but not giving in equal measure, if at all. And then, Mark took you down a peg, made you his fool, something to entertain himself with or something like that.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes... sense?” He was just minding his business what the fuck?

The man tapped his gloved finger on the wheel.

“Why though?” He questioned, the skull arching an eyebrow-- eye socket? Whatever, it looked like it was asking a question.

“Why what?”

“Why didn't you get along with the other kids? They obviously liked you.”

Adam stared at the man. Why so many questions? He felt like he was in a therapist's office again. Well, guess he could keep talking with him; it would definitely make time go by faster.

“Too annoying. The girls were constantly making high-pitched noises, and even now most dress like pure eyestrain. The guys were and still are really obnoxious; back then they were always joking about farts and shit, now they only talk about cars and women, and most of them still stink.” Adam complained, relaxing into the leather seats.

“Why not tell them off then? Like you did with Mark?”

“They were harmless, just typical annoying kids; Mark was...” Adam went quiet for a second, thinking how best to put it. “He sucked and pissed me off! And still does...”

“Yeesh. Why though?” The man questioned.

“...Okay, so, at first, I tried to let him down gently and be cordial with him, like I did to all the others. But he just wouldn't take no for an answer,” Adam explained. “He would constantly loom around me, constantly try to push conversation when I was just trying to do my thing, even got the teachers to rearrange the classroom so he could sit near me and... As if he wasn't being infuriating enough, tried to offer to get me a 'proper lunch for once', basically insulted the school lunches my mom would pack me! She'd come home from work, exhausted, at 5 in the morning, and made sure I had a freshly cooked meal to take to school, and he just... insulted them? Insulted her!? No. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeesh. Yeah, I also would've told him to get lost and... Hm.” He tapped his finger on the wheel a few more times. “Tell me, you didn't really mind getting exiled, did you?”

“...Not really,” Adam continued to fill in the silence, feeling a bit... seen? He had been there for like 10 minutes; how was he already getting Stockholm syndrome? “I mean, I was used to constantly having them trying to include me. They wanted me in their group projects, on their team, to be their partner in gym class. So, it was kinda weird at first. But rather peaceful, to be honest. I almost had half a mind to thank him for keeping them away from me.” He smiled.

“Hm. So... you don't like them? Like, at all? Really?” He questioned. “Mark said you always seemed kind of pissed whenever he's keeping the other in line or dishing out punishments and orders, so you must care about them. A little, at least? Or is it an empathy thing?”

“I...” How should he explain it? “I don't hate them. But I also don't really like, like them? I mean, they're just people, and they really didn't do anything... But... It's not like... I care? I don't really feel bad for them, like, I don't feel pity for them or sad for them. I just don't have much of a personal connection to them, so I don't really feel much. I'm just... pissed off by Mark being rude and an asshole for no reason; it's just infuriating!”

“I see... So, it's more about manners and basic respect for others.”

“Pretty much.”

The man tapped his finger on the wheel.

“Hm. Is this it?” He questioned in an audible mumble.

“Is this it what?” Adam questioned.

“It's just... Mark seldom shuts the fuck up about you. He's legit obsessed. So... I'm just curious. Why? What's so special about you? What's all the fuss about?”

“...It's all because I didn't want to be his friend? And shattered his delusions. So, he decided to torture me every chance he gets.” Adam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “He's also just generally a psycho, so... Yeah, he got pissy I gave him a reality check, so he decided I would be... the main component of his control and human suffering diet.”

The man contained a chuckle.

“Well, to be fair, you said that no one wanted him or cared about him. That was pretty brutal. And also called him... What was it again?”

“Pathetic, gullible, that he stank of despair, that everyone was just his friend because he gave them candy and shit...” Adam detailed, rolling his eyes.

“...He cried a lot because of what you said, Adam. You really hurt his feelings.” He said with audible judgmentalness, the skull contorting with pity.

“And? That's still no excuse to be an asshole.” He shrugged. “He could've just stopped being annoying and pathetic. Maybe then people would've actually liked him for him, and he would've made some real friends-- Honestly, he should be thanking me. If it wasn't me, he'd still be getting taken advantage of by the others.” 

The man paused and then... laughed... an eerily familiar laugh... 

...

Wait a moment.

Adam discreetly examined the man again, from his combat boots, over his tactical cargo pants, across his form-fitting turtleneck and harness, all the way to the electronic mask that covered the back of his head with cloth.

No, he... Was a bit too tall and... Not the right physique... It wasn't him; it was definitely someone else.

His laughter eventually died down, and the man fell silent for a second before turning to him.

“Goodness... You're like an onion made of sociopathy.” The man commented, the skull contorting into a snide smile.

“W-what? I'm not a sociopath. I'm just honest and don't have the patience to coddle an immature prick.” Adam defended himself.

“Adam, most kids don't simply go 'I don't really care' so bluntly, especially to an adult. They know they're not supposed to 'not care', you know? They lie, say what they're supposed to. But you don't even do that, do you?” The man said. “Most kids also wouldn't send three grown men to the hospital with brain damage. Even the tall, mean ones, they're all talk. Step close and raise a fist and they piss themselves. There's something off about you. You're... cold.”

Adam remained quiet, the man tapping his finger on the wheel for a few seconds before speaking.

“Hey, Adam. Their lives are ruined, you know? You might as well have killed them there and then. Tell me... Do you feel even a bit bad?” He questioned, his tone carrying curiosity and... amusement, his “face” growing sharper.

“...Why would I?” He answered, his head held high. “Would they feel bad if the roles were reversed? If we were the ones ending up in the hospital? No... Their eyes were filled with bloodlust; they didn't see two kids trying to have a good time, they saw something to let out their frustrations on, punching bags. They wouldn't have shown us mercy; they wouldn't have felt bad if we ended up in the hospital or even died... I have no reason to feel pity for them or guilt for defending us; I didn't do anything wrong.”

The man slowly turned his head back to the windshield, but Adam felt he was being watched closely still.

“You didn't.” He finally spoke, “But then, why are you acting as if you did? Why are you here? Why do you care if Mark tells on you-- Hell, now that I think about it. Why haven't you put Mark in his place yet? You obviously could take him on just fine.”

“...The law is not on my side.”

The man let out a stifled chuckle at that, Adam staring at him with a darkened expression.

“So, the consequences are the only thing holding you back, huh? You're so fucked up in the head.”

Adam didn't answer his comment.

So what if they were? Maybe he should instead look at those who were so rotten and detestable that they had to make fighting back against them a crime...

The car eventually stopped, and the man pointed at... his lap?

“There's a bag under your seat. Come on, tick tock, get suited so we can begin the briefing and get this over with.”

He didn't have to tell him twice...

He quickly traded his clothes for an outfit and mask akin to the man's. It was a bit large, but it would do. As for the briefing:

Some guy had gotten a hold of some important info on the grand Jones empire, something about a bribed health inspector? Whatever, bla bla bla shady rich people shit. Adam would be in charge of babysitting the guy's toddler, while the man would go about ascertaining any copies of the info and who might have them. Easy breaking and entering and document destruction, two hours at worst, in and out, no need for victims if everything went well!

He could do this.