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<<set $name to "">><<set $lastname to "">><<set $nickname to false>><<set $name2 to "">><<set $gender to "">><<set $they to "">><<set $They to "">><<set $them to "">><<set $Them to "">><<set $their to "">><<set $Their to "">><<set $theirs to "">><<set $themself to "">><<set $Theyre to "">><<set $skin_colour to "">><<set $eye to "">><<set $Eye to "">><<set $height to "">><<set $height_no to"">><<set $hair_length to "">><<set $hair_colour to "">><<set $hair_texture to "">><<set $hair_style to "">><<set $short_hair to false>><<set $degree to "">><<set $freckles to false>><<set $dimples to false>><<set $acne to false>><<set $eye_circles to false>><<set $top_scars to false>><<set $glasses to false>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to false>><<set $body_tattoos to false>><<set $orchid_tattoo to false>><<set $lavender_tattoo to false>><<set $wings_tattoo to false>><<set $gralex_tattoo to false>><<set $lion_tattoo to false>><<set $mountain_tattoo to false>><<set $chinese_tattoo to false>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to false>><<set $quote_tattoo to false>><<set $number_tattoo to false>><<set $rose_tattoo to false>><<set $sceptum_piercing to false>><<set $lip_piercing to false>><<set $tongue_piercing to false>><<set $industrial_piercing to false>><<set $helix_piercing to false>><<set $has_have to "">><<set $is_are to "">><<set $were_was to "">><<set $woman to false>><<set $man to false>><<set $nonbinary to false>><<set $meet_grayson to false>><<set $meet_kennedy to false>><<set $meet_alex to false>><<set $alexandra_colwell to false>><<set $alexander_colwell to false>><<set $friendly to "50">><<set $hostile to "50">><<set $accepting to "50">><<set $skeptical to "50">><<set $mental to "100">><<set $progress to "0">><<set $gray_romance to "0">><<set $ken_romance to "0">><<set $alex_romance to "0">><<set $gralex_romance to "0">><<set $home_apartment to false>><<set $home_noras to false>><<set $a_they to "">><<set $a_They to "">><<set $a_them to "">><<set $a_Them to "">><<set $a_their to "">><<set $a_Their to "">><<set $a_theirs to "">><<set $a_themself to "">><<set $a_Theyre to "">><<set $outift_1 to false>><<set $outift_2 to false>><<set $outift_3 to false>><<set $outift_4 to false>><<set $outift_5 to false>><<set $outift_6 to false>><<set $outift_7 to false>><<set $outift_8 to false>><<set $demetri to false>><<set $gray_hot to false>><<set $d_car to false>><<nobr>><center><h1>mirror mine</h1></center> ''mirror mine'' is a sci-fi mystery interactive novel that contains certain elements of the horror genre. it will contain depictions of violence, graphic language and other adult content. reader discretion is advised. <div class="choices">  <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">show me the warning list.</div>' 'warning list'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">take me to the story.</div>' 'set up'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

the following content warnings can/will be found in the demo: <<nobr>><div class="list"> <center>swearing</center> <center>smoking & alcohol intake</center> <center>mentions and descriptions of blood</center> <center>violence</center> <center>death/murder</center> </div><</nobr>> <<nobr>>''please make sure to familiarise yourself with these warnings before proceeding with the story. take care of yourself :)'' <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">take me to the story.</div>' 'set up'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<div id="container"> <div id="header" onclick="toggle(this)"> <span id="header-text"></span> <div class="menutoggle"><span id="zero"><i class="fa fa-ellipsis-v" aria-hidden="true"></i> </span> <span id="one" style="bottom:-180px;"> <div class="menu-flex"> </div> </span></div> </div> <div id="menu-flex"> <span id="settings" class="lnr lnr-cog"></span> </div> <div id="story"> <div id="passages">  </div> </div> </div>  <script>function toggle() { var x = document.getElementById("one"); if (!x.style.bottom ||x.style.bottom === '-180px') { x.style.bottom = '0px'; } else { x.style.bottom = '-180px'; } }</script>

<<replace ".menu-flex">><<include "menu-flex">><</replace>> <<replace "#header-text">><<include "header-text">><</replace>>

<script>var myDiv = document.getElementById('passages'); myDiv.scrollTop = 0;</script>

<<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>00</b> go back</div>'>><<run Engine.backward()>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>01</b> restart game</div>' 'home'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>02</b> profile</div>' 'profile'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>03</b> saves</div>'>><<script>>UI.saves()<</script>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>04</b> settings</div>'>><<script>>UI.settings()<</script>><</link>>

mirror mine | alli

<<nobr>> <center><h1>Have you seen me?</h1></center> <center><h2>$name $lastname</h2></center> <center><h3>32 Years Old</h3></center> <center><h3>''Appearance:''</h3></center> <center>$Eye eyes; $hair_colour hair that's $hair_length and $hair_texture, typically worn $hair_style; $skin_colour skin, standing between <<if $height is "very short">>4'10 - 5'2<</if>><<if $height is "short">>5'3 - 5'6<</if>><<if $height is "average">>5'7 - 5'10<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>5'11 - 6'3<</if>><<if $height is "very tall">>6'4 - 6'7<</if>>.</center> <center><h3>Identifying marks:</h3></center> <center><<if $freckles is true>>Freckles<</if>></center> <center><<if $dimples is true>>Dimples<</if>><center> <center><<if $acne is true>>Acne<</if>></center> <center><<if $eye_circles is true>>Dark under eye circles<</if>></center> <center><<if $top_scars is true>>Top surgery scars<</if>></center> <center><<if $sleeve_tattoos is true>>Full sleeve tattoos<</if>></center> <center><<if $body_tattoos is true>>Full body tatoos<</if>></center> <center><<if $orchid_tattoo is true>>An orchid tattoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $lavender_tattoo is true>>A lavender flower tatoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $wings_tattoo is true>>An angel wings tattoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $gralex_tattoo is true>>A cat tattoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $lion_tattoo is true>>A tattoo of a lion eating a grapefruit<</if>></center> <center><<if $mountain_tattoo is true>>A mountain tatoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $chinese_tattoo is true>>A Chinese lettering tattoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is true>>A tatto of the sun and moon<</if>></center> <center><<if $quote_tattoo is true>>A tattoo of the saying 'C'est La Vie'<</if>></center> <center><<if $number_tattoo is true>>A tattoo of the number 10<</if>></center> <center><<if $rose_tattoo is true>>A rose tattoo<</if>></center> <center><<if $sceptum_piercing is true>>A sceptum piercing<</if>></center> <center><<if $lip_piercing is true>>A lip piercing<</if>></center> <center><<if $tongue_piercing is true>>A tongue piercing<</if>></center> <center><<if $industrial_piercing is true>>An industiral piercing<</if>></center> <center><<if $helix_piercing is true>>A helix piericing<</if>></center> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Mental Health $mental%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="mentalstat"></div> </div></div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Mystery Solved $progress%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="progress-stat"></div> </div></div> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">relationships</div>' 'relationships'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">return to game</div>' $return>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $meet_grayson is true>><center><h1>Grayson donohue</h1></center> <center><img src="images/grayson.png"></center> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Romance $gray_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="grayrom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Grayson'' is 32 years old and has fair skin, short black hair, blue eyes and a typically clean shaven face. He stands at 6'1 and has a very muscular build. He has a Polish accent and can speak Polish, French and English.</center> <center>He currently works as a detective, having quit university a few months shy of graduating in order to dedicate himself full time to the search of his best friend, $name $lastname.</center> <</if>> <<if $meet_kennedy is true>><center><h1>Kennedy Rose</h1></center> <center><img src="images/kennedy.png"></center> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Romance $ken_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="kenrom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Kennedy'' is 34 years old and has brown skin, wavy dark hair, hazel eyes as well as freckles that cover her face and body. She stands at 5'4 and has a curvaceous build. She has a Bajan accent that's been watered down in order for people to understand her.</center> <center>She currently works as a college professor, teaching $degree.</center> <</if>> <<if $meet_alex is true>><center><h1>Alex Colwell</h1></center> <<if $alexander_colwell is true>><center><img src="images/alexander.png"></center><</if>><<if $alexandra_colwell is true>><center><img src="images/alexandra.png"></center><</if>> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Romance $alex_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="alexrom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Alex'' is 32 years old and has pale skin, straight black hair, brown eyes and a crooked nose. $a_They stands at 5'7 and has a lithe build.</center> <center>$a_They currently works as a pediatric surgeon.</center><</if>> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">return to game</div>' $return>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $name to "">> <<set $lastname to "">> <<set $nickname to false>> <<set $name2 to "">> <<set $gender to "">> <<set $they to "">> <<set $They to "">> <<set $them to "">> <<set $Them to "">> <<set $their to "">> <<set $Their to "">> <<set $theirs to "">> <<set $themself to "">> <<set $Theyre to "">> <<set $skin_colour to "">> <<set $eye to "">> <<set $Eye to "">> <<set $height to "">> <<set $height_no to"">> <<set $hair_length to "">> <<set $hair_colour to "">> <<set $hair_texture to "">> <<set $hair_style to "">> <<set $short_hair to false>> <<set $degree to "">> <<set $freckles to false>> <<set $dimples to false>> <<set $acne to false>> <<set $eye_circles to false>> <<set $top_scars to false>> <<set $glasses to false>> <<set $sleeve_tattoos to false>> <<set $body_tattoos to false>> <<set $orchid_tattoo to false>> <<set $lavender_tattoo to false>> <<set $wings_tattoo to false>> <<set $gralex_tattoo to false>> <<set $lion_tattoo to false>> <<set $mountain_tattoo to false>> <<set $chinese_tattoo to false>> <<set $sunmoon_tattoo to false>> <<set $quote_tattoo to false>> <<set $number_tattoo to false>> <<set $rose_tattoo to false>> <<set $sceptum_piercing to false>> <<set $lip_piercing to false>> <<set $tongue_piercing to false>> <<set $industrial_piercing to false>> <<set $helix_piercing to false>> <<set $has_have to "">> <<set $is_are to "">> <<set $were_was to "">> <<set $woman to false>> <<set $man to false>> <<set $transwoman to false>> <<set $transman to false>> <<set $nonbinary to false>> <<set $meet_grayson to false>> <<set $meet_kennedy to false>> <<set $meet_alex to false>> <<set $alexandra_colwell to false>> <<set $alexander_colwell to false>> <<set $friendly to "50">> <<set $hostile to "50">> <<set $accepting to "50">> <<set $skeptical to "50">> <<set $mental to "100">> <<set $progress to "0">> <<set $gray_romance to "0">> <<set $ken_romance to "0">> <<set $alex_romance to "0">> <<set $gralex_romance to "0">> <<set $home_apartment to false>> <<set $home_noras to false>> <<set $a_they to "">> <<set $a_They to "">> <<set $a_them to "">> <<set $a_Them to "">> <<set $a_their to "">> <<set $a_Their to "">> <<set $a_theirs to "">> <<set $a_themself to "">> <<set $a_Theyre to "">> <<set $outift_1 to false>> <<set $outift_2 to false>> <<set $outift_3 to false>> <<set $outift_4 to false>> <<set $outift_5 to false>> <<set $outift_6 to false>> <<set $outift_7 to false>> <<set $outift_8 to false>> <<set $demetri to false>> <<set $d_car to false>> <<set $gray_hot to false>>

<<nobr>>before the story can begin, you will need to make a few set up choices. firstly, what are your pronouns? <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">she/her</div>' 'first name'>><<set $they to "she", $them to "her", $their to "her", $theirs to "hers", $themself to "herself", $has_have to "has", $They to "She", $Their to "Her", $is_are to "is", $theyre to "she's", $Theyre to "She's", $Them to "Her", $were_was to "was">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">he/him</div>' 'first name'>><<set $they to "he", $them to "him", $their to "his", $theirs to "his", $themself to "himself", $has_have to "has", $They to "He", $Their to "His", $is_are to "is", $theyre to "he's", $Theyre to "He's", $Them to "Him", $were_was to "was">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">they/them</div>' 'first name'>><<set $they to "they", $them to "them", $their to "their", $theirs to "theirs", $themself to "themself", $has_have to "have", $They to "They", $Their to "Their", $is_are to "are", $theyre to "they're", $Theyre to "They're", $Them to "Them", $were_was to "were">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">xe/xem</div>' 'first name'>><<set $they to "xe", $them to "xem", $their to "xyr", $theirs to "xyrs", $themself to "xemself", $has_have to "have", $They to "Xe", $Their to "Xyr", $is_are to "are", $theyre to "xyrs", $Theyre to "Xe's", $were_was to "were", $Them to "Xem">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ze/hir</div>' 'first name'>><<set $they to "ze", $them to "hir", $their to "hir", $theirs to "hirs", $themself to "hirself", $has_have to "has", $They to "Ze", $Their to "Hir", $is_are to "is", $theyre to "ze's", $Theyre to "Ze's", $Them to "Hir", $were_was to "was">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>what is your first name? <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Anna</div>' 'nickname'>><<set $name to "Anna", $name2 to "Anna">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Oliver</div>' 'nickname'>><<set $name to "Oliver", $name2 to "Oliver">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Charlotte</div>' 'nickname'>><<set $name to "Charlotte", $name2 to "Charlotte">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Elijah</div>' 'nickname'>><<set $name to "Elijah", $name2 to "Elijah">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sam</div>' 'nickname'>><<set $name to "Sam", $name2 to "Sam">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">None of these</div>' 'input name'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

is your name sometimes shortened? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">yes</div>' 'nickname_two'>><<set $nickname to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">no</div>' 'alex gender'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><<textbox "$name" "">></center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' 'nickname'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><<textbox "$name2" "">></center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' 'alex gender'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>what gender would you like to set alex as? <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">female</div>' 'guide'>><<set $alexandra_colwell to true, $a_they to "she", $a_They to "She", $a_them to "her", $a_Them to "Her", $a_their to "her", $a_Their to "Her", $a_theirs to "hers", $a_themself to "herself", $a_Theyre to "she's">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">male</div>' 'guide'>><<set $alexander_colwell to true, $a_they to "he", $a_They to "He", $a_them to "him", $a_Them to "Him", $a_their to "his", $a_Their to "His", $a_theirs to "his", $a_themself to "himself", $a_Theyre to "he's">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>prologue</h1></center> <center><h2>13:38</h2></center><</nobr>> Grayson gets home some time after lunch. The apartment's empty. He has to stifle a yawn; four long lectures and a week of all-nighter study sessions have him feeling run down and he can't deny himself the siren-like call of his bed. He makes his way to his bedroom, shrugs off his coat and throws it over the back of his desk chair before collapsing face-first on his bed. A quick afternoon nap won't hurt anyone. He's asleep within minutes. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<center><h2>16:56</h2></center> He walks out of the lecture with a pounding headache. He doesn't remember why he chose to take economics but he's regretting it now. He checks his phone again and once more finds it without any notifications. A frown tugs at his lips; he should've heard from his best friend by now. He searches for $their name in his contacts. He dials $their number, holds the phone to his ear and waits. It rings and it rings and it rings until it goes to voicemail. //"Hey, it's $name. Leave a message but I'll probably never listen."// He sighs and hangs up. $Theyre probably still busy. He knows $they had a busy day of classes and errands. $They'll call him later, they have plans to go to $their sibling's birthday party after all. He pockets his phone and sets off for home. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<center><h2>15:21</h2></center> He wakes with a groan. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up and searches for his phone in the tangle of his bedsheets. He has no texts, and no missed calls. He doesn't think anything of it. He has a bit of time before his four o'clock lecture so he pulls himself out of bed and drops down in his desk chair for some last minute revision. Twenty minutes later, his laptop is ceremoniously shoved back it's bag and he's out the door. He makes it to his lecture with several minutes to spare. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<center><h2>18:13</h2></center> Grayson gets out of the shower and wraps his towel around his waist before going to his bedroom to get dressed. He throws on jeans and a simple t-shirt, along with an old but trusted pair of sneakers. He still hasn't heard from $name. Running his fingers through his still-wet hair, he grabs his phone. Still, he has no messages or calls from $them. With a frown forming on his face, he walks down the passage to $their room, phone still in hand. He doesn't know why $they'd be at home; if anything, $they'd already be at Callie's birthday party, but it can't hurt to double-check. <<if $nickname is true>>He stops in front of the closed door and knocks. "Hey, $name2? You home?" When he gets no reply, he knocks again. "$name?" When the only sound that greets him is silence, he opens the door to reveal an empty bedroom. Desk neat, bed still made, blinds up and windows open. A black and brown ball of fluff blinking sleepily at him from the centre of the bed. His frown deepens as he approaches the cat, scratching her head and hearing her purr in return.<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>He stops in front of the closed door and knocks. "Hey, $name? You home?" When he gets no reply, he knocks again. "$name?" When the only sound that greets him is silence, he opens the door to reveal an empty bedroom. Desk neat, bed still made, blinds up and windows open. A black and brown ball of fluff blinking sleepily at him from the centre of the bed. His frown deepens as he approaches the cat, scratching her head and hearing her purr in return.<</if>> "Where's your owner, Gralex?" He asks the cat, cringing inwardly at the name. She only meows back at him and with a final scratch behind her ears, he leaves the room. Glancing back down at his phone, he realises he's going to be late if he doesn't leave soon. He heaves a sigh and fetches his car keys from his room before making for the front door, dialling $their number again. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hey, it\'s $name. Leave a message but I\'ll probably never listen."</div>' '1-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He doesn't bother leaving a message and hangs up. He slides into the driver's seat of his car as he opens their text conversation. ''[18:35]'' omw to noras ''[18:35]'' u there already? He tosses his phone on the passenger seat and starts driving. He's barely pulled onto the street when his phone rings. Briefly glancing down at the screen, he catches sight of Nora's name and number. Making sure to slow down, he grabs his phone and answers. "Hey, Nora; I promise I'm not gonna be late," he says quickly, knowing his reputation for being on time is nonexistent. "I just left now." <<if $nickname is true>>"That's fine, Grayson," the woman says in response and he thinks she sounds distracted. "Have you heard from $name2? $They $were_was supposed to be here a few hours ago and $theyre not answering any of my calls."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>"That's fine, Grayson," the woman says in response and he thinks she sounds distracted. "Have you heard from $name? $They $were_was supposed to be here a few hours ago and $theyre not answering any of my calls."<</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"I haven't," he admits and he has to resist the urge to slam his foot down on the accelerator and tear through the city, searching for $them. "Not since breakfast this morning." "Do you know where $they could be?" Panic is starting to bleed into her voice. "Is there anyone $they could be with?" He feels a barrage of questions building on the other side of the line and so he stops her before she can say anything else. "Take a deep breath," he says softly, not wanting her to get any more freaked out than she already is. "I'll see what I can find out. Just don't panic yet." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Nora relents and with a final, "I\'ll call you back", he hangs up.</div>' '1-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He pulls over onto the side of the road, out the way of traffic before looking down at his phone again. He sees his messages have gone undelivered; the red, angry exclamation mark beside each message has his eyebrows furrowing impossibly close together. He types out a new message only to yield the same results. He decides to call $them. //"Hey, it's $name. Leave a message but I'll probably never listen."// He leaves a message this time. "Hey, $name; uh, I'm not sure what's going on or why you aren't picking up but I really, //really// wanna know if you're okay. As soon as you hear this, please call me back. Nora's really worried about you and I am too." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<center><h2>20:34</h2></center> He's called everyone he can think of. Mutual friends, $their professors, $their classmates. Anyone who might've had some sort of interaction with $name today. Even if the chances were slim. Mostly he got the same answer. No one has seen $them. Not since eleven-thirty. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-8'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He's still sitting in the driver's seat of his car. Parked on the side of the road, engine off, heart racing a million miles a minute. He's telling himself not to panic but panicking is all he's able to do. He picks up his phone, deciding to call $them one last time before he does anything else. Thumb hovering over the dial button, he takes a deep breath, avoids thinking of the worst. It's nothing, he tells himself. $Theyre probably fine. He presses the button. //"Please pick up, please pick up..."// For a second, he allows himself to get his hopes up. But then he hears a new voice and his heart shatters. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">//"The number you have dialled does not exist. Please contact -"//</div>' '1-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He's turned the keys in the ignition, the engine rumbling back to life, before the phone operator even has time to finish. It's not long before he's gunning it down the street. He arrives at the police station in record time, perhaps having broken several speeding laws on his way there. Not that he cares. The only thing on his mind right now is $name. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '1-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The station is quiet, mostly empty. He sets his sights on the first police officer he sees; a burly man sitting at his desk with his feet propped up on the table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. The name stitched on the breast of his shirt reads Sgt. Miller. Grayson's breathing is heavy as he rushes up to his desk. Miller looks up at him briefly before his eyes return to the newspaper. He takes a lazy sip of his coffee before speaking in a bored, gruff voice. "Can I help you, kid?" The words tumble out of his voice in rush, barely comprehensible. Miller raises a bushy eyebrow at him and asks him to repeat himself. He takes a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm down. He stands up straighter and looks Miller dead in the eyes. "I need to file a missing person's report." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next chapter</div>' 'chapter one'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>1. Honey, I'm home</h1></center> The man behind the cash register watches you carefully, his eyebrows furrowed. He keeps his eyes trained on you, not even looking away to scan the items you've unloaded onto the conveyor belt. You don't recognise him; he must be a new hire. That doesn't explain his staring.<</nobr>> "Is something wrong?" You ask, looking back over your haul. Birthday cake, champagne, the yoghurt Grayson likes and other groceries you need for the apartment. You've got everything you needed to get; not that //he// would know any of that... The man seems to come back to himself, quickly shaking his head as he finishes scanning your items. "Can I, uh... can I see some I.D?" He says, holding up the bottle of champagne by way of explanation. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile and nod. You\'re used to this; you have quite a babyface.</div>' '2-1-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You frown but you nod anyway. You know you don\'t look underage but who are you to question this man?</div>' '2-1-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 5, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You huff, rolling your eyes. "Is that really necessary?"</div>' '2-1-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're just pulling out your wallet when he speaks again. “Have we met before?” He sounds very sure of himself, as if it's not really a question but phrased in such a way to make you an active participant in the conversation. “I feel like I've seen you before somewhere…” You look at him again, really look at him, taking the time to analyse his features. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin and acne scars; you guess he's around seventeen, maybe eighteen. A highschooler. Not really someone that runs in your social circle. “You must have me confused with someone else,” you say as you hand him your driver's license. He sets the bottle of champagne aside and takes it from you, holding it in both hands, studying it too intensely for just needing to see your age. You know exactly he's going to find. For starters, your full name; $name... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Easton</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Easton'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Palmer</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Palmer'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Haines</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Haines'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sanderson</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Sanderson'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Barrett</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Barrett'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fiero</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Fiero'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">None of these</div>' '2-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The man seems to pale in light of your annoyance. He fumbles for a reply, finally looking away from you as he looks at the champagne, almost as if for help. "It's, um... store policy. I'm not allowed to sell anyone alcohol without seeing some sort of I.D..." You heave a sigh and he winces as if he fears you might make a scene or demand to see the manager. Something no doubt he's experienced at least once today. "Fine," you say, though it's difficult to mask the annoyed tone of your voice. You have to remind yourself that he's just doing his job; it's not his fault your patience runs thin. You're just pulling out your wallet when he speaks again. “Have we met before?” He sounds very sure of himself, as if it's not really a question but phrased in such a way to make you an active participant in the conversation. “I feel like I've seen you before somewhere…” You look at him again, really look at him, taking the time to analyse his features. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin and acne scars; you guess he's around seventeen, maybe eighteen. A highschooler. Not really someone that runs in your social circle. “You must have me confused with someone else,” you say as you hand him your driver's license. He sets the bottle of champagne aside and takes it from you, holding it in both hands, studying it too intensely for just needing to see your age. You know exactly he's going to find. For starters, your full name; $name... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Easton</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Easton'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Palmer</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Palmer'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Haines</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Haines'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sanderson</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Sanderson'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Barrett</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Barrett'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fiero</div>' '2-2-1'>><<set $lastname to 'Fiero'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">None of these</div>' '2-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your eye colour, which is... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">blue</div>' '2-3'>><<set $eye to 'blue', $Eye to 'Blue'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">green</div>' '2-3'>><<set $eye to 'green', $Eye to 'Green'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">brown</div>' '2-3'>><<set $eye to 'brown', $Eye to 'Brown'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' '2-3'>><<set $eye to 'black', $Eye to 'Black'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">grey</div>' '2-3'>><<set $eye to 'grey', $Eye to 'Grey'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your height, which he can easily tell by looking at you that you're... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">very short (4\'10 - 5\'2)</div>' '2-4'>><<set $height to 'very short'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">short (5\'3 - 5\'6)</div>' '2-4'>><<set $height to 'short'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">average (5\'7 - 5\'10)</div>' '2-4'>><<set $height to 'average'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tall (5\'11 - 6\'3)</div>' '2-4'>><<set $height to 'tall'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">very tall (6\'4 - 6\'7)</div>' '2-4'>><<set $height to 'very tall'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

It also says you are... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a woman</div>' '2-5'>><<set $woman to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a man</div>' '2-5'>><<set $man to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a woman, and you\'re happy it finally suits your correct gender</div>' '2-5'>><<set $woman to true, $transwoman to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a man, and you\'re happy it finally suits your correct gender</div>' '2-5'>><<set $man to true, $transman to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">non-binary</div>' '2-5'>><<set $nonbinary to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> </div><</nobr>>

And finally, your birthdate; April 19th 1989. You're twenty-two, one whole year over the legal age limit. He shouldn't look as surprised as he does... "Is something wrong?" You say, repeating your earlier question, emphasising each word and he looks up at you with slightly widened eyes He swallows nervously, looking between you and your driver's license as if he can't fathom that you are who you say you are. "Is your, uh... is your name really $name $lastname?" The look on his face suggests that he wants you to say anything other than the word 'yes', and that's only confirmed when you nod your head and he blanches. With shaky fingers, he hands you your license as he does his absolute best to avoid eye contact and hide the stutter behind his next words. His best isn't really good enough. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Will that be cash or card?"</div>' '2-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

It takes all of your willpower not to run out of the store with your grocery bags clutched to your chest five minutes later. You don't want to think about the man's behaviour any more than you need to; perhaps he's just had a rough day, or maybe he's just a nervous wreck in general. Either way, you doubt he treats every customer that way. You feel unnerved. You don't like the way he looked at you or said your name. Almost as if he knows something you don't; some terrible secret about you that has him scared to the bone. You can only guess what he was thinking when he looked at you with those wide eyes but nothing you can think of is particularly favourable. Above all else, you want to forget the exchange ever happened. Grocery bags in hand, you make your way through the parking lot towards your car. Or rather… where your car //was//. The parking lot was relatively empty when you'd first arrived - and it still is - which makes it extremely obvious that your car is not where you left it. Or anywhere else that you can see for that matter. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath, standing in your previously occupied parking space. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Your car\'s been stolen</div>' '2-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Heaving a sigh, you set down a few bags to get a hand free. You pull your phone from your back pocket, wanting to call Grayson for a ride to your mom's house. You know that by now, he's most likely sitting in a lecture but you also know that he's never missed a phone call from you, which makes him your best bet. Or at least he would be your best bet if the damn thing would turn on. You figure it's dead; you must've forgotten to charge it the night before. You roll your eyes and shove your phone back in your pocket, another disgruntled //'fuck'// leaving your lips as you weigh your options. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the bus</div>' '2-8-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Go back inside to call a taxi</div>' '2-8-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting - 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical + 10, 0, 100)>> You take a deep breath and pick up your groceries before making your way toward the bus stop. You're not really in the mood for this; you were hoping today was gonna be an easy day, especially with it being Callie's birthday. It is supposed to be all about them after all. Your car being stolen is a lot less than desirable. You collapse down on the bench and find yourself sitting next to two men wearing business suits. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice them staring at you curiously, one whispering conspiratorially in the other's ear. You do your best to put them out of your mind and luckily for you, you don't have to wait too long. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The bus pulls to a stop in front of you</div>' '2-8-1-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You climb aboard, the two men still whispering to each other as they follow you, and you set your sights on the first open seat you see - the single chair at the very front of the bus. The business men slide into the seats behind you and again you try your hardest to forget about them. Though it's difficult when you pick up bits and pieces of their hushed conversation. "Are you sure it's $them?" "I'm positive." "But it's been ten years…" "//Look.//" Their conversation suddenly goes quiet and you shift in your seat, grocery bags clutched to your chest. You feel unsettled; you don't have context for what they were saying but that doesn't stop the goosebumps from erupting over your skin, the shiver from rolling down your spine. Or maybe it's the eyes you feel trained on your back. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see the occupants of the opposite side of the bus quickly avoid looking at you. You don't understand why but it's clear as day to you that you're being watched. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Something\'s definitely not right here⚡</div>' '2-8-1-2-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re just being paranoid⚡</div>' '2-8-1-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting - 15, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical + 15, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>>Perhaps you can explain away the men's conversation and the uneasiness it left you with - people are gonna talk about strange things, it's not up to those eavesdropping to judge them - but there's nothing to convince you that being watched by at least half a bus full of passengers is normal. You're not sure what to think… maybe you're losing your mind. But you can't shake the feeling that something is very wrong with this; whatever //this// is... You're all too happy to get off the bus when it stops once more that you don't even mind the five-minute walk from the bus stop to your mom's house, and it's not long before you get there. The red brick walls and rose bushes lining the perfectly manicured lawn always bring a smile to your lips. There's nothing like coming home to take your mind off strange cashiers and strangers' unwavering stares. Walking up the stone pathway, you shuffle the bags until you can get a hand free and let yourself inside with your key. "Mom!" you call out, shutting the door behind you before making your way to the kitchen. "I'm here!" You enter the kitchen and set the bags down on the island counter, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. //Are those new curtains?// You hear the creaking of footsteps on the stairs as you begin to unpack your haul. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry! But I have a good excuse -" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"$name?"</div>' '2-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 15, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 15, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 20, 0, 100)>>You tell yourself as much, anyway. You have been known to get lost in your head from time to time. Not that anyone can blame you; with your final thesis due in a few weeks and your graduation on the horizon, it's any wonder you haven't had a manic breakdown yet. Yeah… that's it; university has just been keeping you so busy, that you haven't had time for anything else. And there's nothing wrong with that. You're all too happy to get off the bus when it stops once more that you don't even mind the five-minute walk from the bus stop to your mom's house, and it's not long before you get there. The red brick walls and rose bushes lining the perfectly manicured lawn always bring a smile to your lips. There's nothing like coming home to take your mind off strange cashiers and strangers' unwavering stares. Walking up the stone pathway, you shuffle the bags until you can get a hand free and let yourself inside with your key. "Mom!" you call out, shutting the door behind you before making your way to the kitchen. "I'm here!" You enter the kitchen and set the bags down on the island counter, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. //Are those new curtains?// You hear the creaking of footsteps on the stairs as you begin to unpack your haul. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry! But I have a good excuse -" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"$name?"</div>' '2-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting - 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical + 10, 0, 100)>> Your head drops and you sigh. You really didn't want to go back inside and relive that unsettling exchange - for any reason, really - but you don't see that you have any other choice. You sigh again and pick up the bags, grumbling to yourself as you make your way back into the store. You're not really in the mood for this; you were hoping today was gonna be an easy day, especially with it being Callie's birthday. It is supposed to be all about them after all. Creepy cashier aside, your car being stolen is a lot less than desirable. The sliding doors shut decisively behind you and you cast your eyes around the store in search of an employee that doesn't give you the creeps. Your eyes lock on a tall woman wearing a badge declaring her the manager and make a beeline for her. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest, thinly plucked eyebrows furrowed as she listens intently as - unfortunately for you - the creepy cashier talks to her. His lips move impossibly fast as he speaks in a rush and as you draw nearer, he glances at you briefly, doing a double-take at your approach. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate to interrupt-"</div>' '2-8-2-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pause as the manager turns her attention to you - her own expression morphing into one of shock - before you continue. "But my car was stolen and I was hoping I could use someone's phone to call a taxi." The manager doesn't respond immediately, her mouth slightly agape as her eyes rake over your face. You raise an eyebrow at her expectantly and she seems to snap out of her stupor. "Oh!" she says and for a moment, the only thing that follows is silence before the words tumble out her mouth in a rush. "Yes! Of course… you can call from my office…" You're standing on the pavement twenty minutes later just as a black sedan pulls to a stop in front of you. You catch the driver watching you in the rearview mirror as you slide into the backseat and even after you relay your mother's address to him, his eyes remain glued to your face. "Um…" You raise your eyebrows at the man in confusion. "Do you need directions?" "No," he grunts out quickly, looking away from you to start the car. He doesn't say any more on the subject as he pulls away from the pavement, and though he continually glances at you in the mirror, you focus on the attention on the world beyond the car window. There aren't that many cars on the road but that doesn't surprise you. Everyone's at work; you're a bit early for the lunch rush. But that's not what catches your eye. You notice some things have changed; the street you're driving down has a different name than it did yesterday, the coffee shop you frequent with Grayson is now a bookstore, the park you visited as a child has been replaced by an apartment building. A frown tugs at your lips. Are you losing your mind or have you just been so wrapped up in your own problems to not notice how the city has changed? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Something\'s definitely not right here⚡</div>' '2-8-2-1-1'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting - 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical + 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>>>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re just imagining things⚡</div>' '2-8-2-1-2'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 20, 0, 100)>>>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Perhaps you can explain away the street name and the coffee shop, but there's no way you could miss something as big as an apartment building being built. Especially in a place you drive by almost every day. You're not sure what to think... maybe you really losing your mind. But you can't shake the feeling that something's very wrong with this; whatever //this// is... You arrive at your mom's house in record time. The red brick walls and rose bushes lining the perfectly manicured lawn always bring a smile to your lips. There's nothing like coming home to take your mind off strange cashiers and their equally strange managers. You climb out the car and hand the driver whatever money you pull out of your wallet - you have no idea if it's more or less than what you owe, you're just happy to finally be home - before making your way up the stone pathway to the front door. You shuffle the bags until you can get a hand free and let yourself inside with your key. "Mom!" you call out, shutting the door behind you before making your way to the kitchen. "I'm here!" You enter the kitchen and set the bags down on the island counter, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. //Are those new curtains?// You hear the creaking of footsteps on the stairs as you begin to unpack your haul. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry! But I have a good excuse -" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"$name?"</div>' '2-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You tend to get lost in your head from time to time. Not that anyone could blame you; with your final thesis due in a few weeks' time and your graduation on the horizon, it's any wonder you haven't had a manic breakdown. Yeah, that's it. University has just been keeping you too busy to notice the little things. Nothing wrong with that. You will need to find a new coffee shop, though. You arrive at your mom's house in record time. The red brick walls and rose bushes lining the perfectly manicured lawn always bring a smile to your lips. There's nothing like coming home to take your mind off strange cashiers and their equally strange managers. You climb out the car and hand the driver whatever money you pull out of your wallet - you have no idea if it's more or less than what you owe, you're just happy to finally be home - before making your way up the stone pathway to the front door. You shuffle the bags until you can get a hand free and let yourself inside with your key. "Mom!" you call out, shutting the door behind you before making your way to the kitchen. "I'm here!" You enter the kitchen and set the bags down on the island counter, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. //Are those new curtains?// You hear the creaking of footsteps on the stairs as you begin to unpack your haul. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry! But I have a good excuse -" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"$name?"</div>' '2-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You turn at the sound of your mom's gasp and your frown deepens. She stares at you with wide eyes, her lips parted and her hand on her chest as she leans against the doorframe. She looks like she's seen a ghost. "My car was..." You find your words trailing off into nothingness as you lift the bottle of champagne out of the bag. She doesn't take her eyes off your face. "Mom?" She doesn't say anything in response as she takes a few slow steps toward you. Finally standing before you, she raises a tentative hand and presses it to your cheek, a single tear slipping down her face. Your frown deepens, your eyebrows furrowing impossibly close together as you place the bottle of champagne on the counter. You don't understand what's happening but you hate to see your mother cry. Reaching up with a hand of your own, you wipe away the stray tear and open your mouth to speak when she beats you to it. "$name?" Her voice is barely above a whisper and it cracks as she says your name; you've never heard a sound more heartbreaking. "Is it really you?" As confused as you are, you don't question it. "Yeah, mom," you reply softly. "It's me... I'm here." Anything you can say to comfort her, anything to stop the tears building in her eyes. Maybe she had a bad dream about you or maybe something happened to the neighbour's kid that she's just projecting onto you. It doesn't matter what it is; you just want to make it better. She suddenly throws herself at you, her arms wrapping around your neck as she sobs into your chest. You stumble back slightly, unprepared for the force with which she hugs you. You're thankful you had the foresight to put the champagne down when you did. You wrap your arms around her in return, rubbing her back in soothing circles and muttering reassurances in her ear. You don't know how long the two of you stand there for but it's long enough for you to startle when she pulls away from you, eyes glossy and face wet with tears. "I've missed you so much," she says, her voice breaking once more as she reaches up to cup your face in her hands. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Again, you frown at her. "I haven\'t gone anywhere, mom..."</div>' '2-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

This only triggers more tears and she begins to sob again, pulling you into her arms. You immediately go back to comforting her as you guide her towards the door. "Come on, mom," you say softly as you lead her to the living room, never once removing your arms from around her. You sit her down on the couch, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to go back to the kitchen when she catches your arm, stopping you. "No," she says quickly, her fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist to the point that it begins to hurt. "Don't leave, $name, please." "I'm just gonna make you some tea," you explain in an attempt to placate her. "I'll be quick, I promise." She takes a long, hard look at you, her eyes scanning your face intensely and her bottom lip quivering before she gives you a slight nod, releasing her hold on your wrist. You lean down to kiss her forehead again before leaving the room. You move automatically around the kitchen. Filling the kettle with water and setting it on the stovetop, grabbing a mug from the cabinet, tea and sugar from the pantry. Her words play on a loop in your head. //Is it really you?// You still don't understand what's going on and the meaning behind her words, whatever that may be, terrifies you. //I've missed you so much.// You find yourself standing in front of the fridge, a carton of milk in hand. Confusion takes over you once more. For as long as you can remember, your mom has always covered the fridge in photos of you and your sibling, Callie. You taking your first steps, you and Grayson at the park, Callie's sixth birthday party, your high school graduation - all of it immortalised in film and proudly displayed on the fridge. It had become something of a staple; any new life achievement of either of yours would make its way on there. Which makes the fact that the fridge door is now bare as upsetting as it is confusing. You turn around, place the milk on the counter next to the long-forgotten bottle of champagne and begin pulling open drawers with determination. The first drawer yields nothing but cutlery. The second drawer, however... your mouth falls open in surprise when you pull open the second drawer and find the photos. Dozens upon dozens of photos. As you begin to dig through them, you realise that they're all photos of //you//. On every single one, your smiling face stares back at you. You don't know why your mother, once so proud of everything you did, would tuck these photos in a drawer, hidden away from everyone as if you're suddenly something to be ashamed of. A stray tear slips down your cheek and you're quick to wipe it away. This shouldn't hurt as much as it does. You vaguely wonder if you should call Callie to ask them what's going on, despite being here to set up for their surprise birthday party, only to remember your phone is incapable of turning on. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The kettle begins to whistle, pulling you from your thoughts.</div>' '2-11'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You stuff the photos back in the drawer and turn to the stove, grabbing the milk on the way. You can ask about the photos another time, you have more pressing issues to deal with. And it's not that big of a deal anyway. That's what you tell yourself, at least. You make quick work of the tea and soon, you're back in the living room, sitting beside your mom on the couch, handing her the mug. You scoot in close to her and wrap your arm around her shoulders. She shakes as you hold her, her tear-filled eyes never once leaving your face. "Talk to me, mom," you plead, taking her free hand in yours and intertwining your fingers. "Tell me what's wrong." She opens her mouth to speak but the only thing that comes out is a strangled sob. You relent, taking the mug and placing it on the coffee table before enveloping her in your arms. She hugs you tightly, crying quietly into your shoulder. You'll stay with her for as long as she needs, no matter the consequence. Anything you can do to make her feel better, you'll do it. A knock at the front door disturbs the silence that's built between the two of you and you raise your head just as you hear the door open and close. Frowning, you make a move to get up from the couch when a tall, haggard-looking man with broad shoulders storms into the living room, a scowling woman following hot on his heels. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. It takes you a second but you quickly recognise the man. And that only makes you more confused, if that's even possible. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Grayson? What are you doing here so early?"</div>' '2-12'>><<set $meet_grayson to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He doesn't respond as he drops to his knees before you, wearing the same shocked and teary-eyed expression as your mother. You pull away from your mom and bolt up from your seat as you rush to his side. You wince as your knees hit the hardwood floors but you do your best to ignore the pain, focusing all your attention on your best friend and the tears streaming down his face. You look between him, the woman standing in the doorway and your mother, frustration crowding your chest until you find it hard to breathe in the tense air of the room. "Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?" You'd typically never swear in front of your mom, knowing the usual consequence is a slap to the back of the head but you can't stop the words from rolling off your tongue. And if there were any a situation that warranted swearing, you feel like it's this one. Your attention is drawn to the woman that entered behind Gray as she speaks. "Do you seriously not know?" she drawls, her voice soft and smooth like velvet that takes on a condescending tone as she looks down at you. You let your eyes rake over her from head to toe; dark hair pulled away from her face, caramel skin, dark clothes made of denim and leather. You don't know this woman, she has no right to judge you in the living room of your childhood home. "What are you talking about?" You try to make your voice sounds as demanding as you can, though you wilt slightly under her patronising stare. "Who are you?" She ignores you, her jaw clenched as she pulls a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans. She holds it out to you and with tentative fingers, you reach up to take it from her. Your mouth pulled down in a perpetual frown, you take your time unfolding it. The paper is soft and worn as if someone else has done this exact same thing thousands of times before you. Your sharp intake of breath is the only thing that can be heard in the silence of the room. The first thing you see on the page is you, bright-eyed and smiling. The next thing you see, the worst possible thing you //could// see, are the words "HAVE YOU SEEN ME?" printed in large block letters above your photo. It's then that the woman decides to speak again, her words cold and distant as if it's not really you that's hearing them, but someone else. //You so badly wish it was someone else.// "$name... you've been missing for the past ten years." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next chapter</div>' 'chapter two'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>2. just a couple questions</h1></center> The interrogation room is cold. And brightly lit. So bright it's beginning to give you a headache. The single light hangs from the ceiling, swaying ever so slightly in a non-existent breeze. It flickers from time to time in a rhythm so unrhythmic it's turning your already pounding head into something excruciating.<</nobr>> Maybe the cause of your headache isn't the light at all. Maybe it's the woman sitting across from you; the same woman who followed unenthusiastically behind Grayson into the living room of your childhood home. Maybe she's making you so nervous, it's causing irreversible brain damage. You already have the sweaty palms, the fidgety bouncing leg - who knows what other non-physical symptoms your anxiety has manifested itself as. Or maybe it's the fact that you've been missing for a decade. It's difficult to pinpoint the exact cause of your headache. You've learnt that her name is Kelsey. Although, she introduced herself to you as Detective Montgomery. She's glaring at you from her side of the table, has been since you walked into the station. Maybe even before that and you just haven't noticed. You wonder what she sees when she looks at you. You know that whatever it is, you're not looking at her image of you whenever you catch your reflection in the one-way mirror. You think maybe she sees a criminal. She certainly acts as if she's facing off with one, instead of an incredibly confused college student. She's been asking you questions, the same questions for the past three hours. Questions you haven't been able to answer. Questions like where you've been, what you've done, who you were with, what you did before you disappeared, and how you haven't been found until now. Until today. Your answers haven't changed, no matter how much Detective Montgomery has pushed. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She clears her throat, her eyes never once leaving your face. "Do you know the penalty for impeding a criminal investigation, $name?" She poses the question to you but you can tell by the venom in her voice, the mistrust in her eyes that she doesn't need a response from you. Nor does she want one. "A max sentence would be life," she says. "But in your case, you'd probably only get a couple of years. Still pretty life-ruining, I'd bet." She pauses, waiting to see if you'll interject. Almost daring you to. "So, I'm going to ask you again; where have you been since your disappearance ten years ago?" You attempt to swallow nervously but are immediately stopped by the lump forming in your throat. If she doesn't hate you already, she will with the next words to roll off your tongue. "I don't know." You've barely punctuated your sentence with a full stop when she bangs a tightly clenched fist against the metal tabletop, her annoyance and mistrust morphing into anger. You never thought an emotion could be a tangible thing, but with the volatile heat rolling off her, you know now that that's completely wrong. Seething beneath her leather jacket, she grits her teeth. "Likely story," she spits. "Let's cut the crap, $name-" She's interrupted by two sharp knocks on the one-way mirror. Wordlessly, she pushes her chair back and storms out the room, her jaw clenched as tight as if it were welded shut. The one-way glass rattles slightly as she slams the door and without her there to stare you down, you find yourself relaxing ever so slightly, your body slumping down in the uncomfortable metal chair. Your shoulders are still tensed, the muscles stretched and pulled tight, but at least you can breathe again. You don't know what to make of this situation you've found yourself in. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">This is just some awful prank⚡</div>' '3-2-1'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting - 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 20, 0, 100)>> <</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Maybe it\'s the truth⚡</div>' '3-2-2'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>> <</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

That's the only thing that makes sense. Because nothing this awful and confusing happens in real life. And it especially doesn't happen to people like you. Normal, ordinary people. There's nothing special about you, nothing remarkable, nothing that stands out. You are one of thousands, millions. And if something this extreme and crazy can happen to someone as simple and boring as you, that means it can happen to anyone. And you refuse to believe that as the truth. You just hope the punchline drops sooner rather than later. Kelsey returns, her sudden reappearance shocking you out of your lamentation. You immediately sit up straighter, mentally preparing yourself for more questions that you won't be able to answer, not in the way she wants, but she doesn't walk further than the door. Her ice-cold glare settles back on your face, sending a chill down your spine. "You're free to go," she mutters between her teeth. She does a fine job of making sure you know that you being able to leave was not her decision. You nod and quickly get to your feet, desperate to leave this cold room and the even colder detective. You walk to the door with determination in your step but before you can even pass the woman, she stops you. Manicured hand gripping your shoulder. Again you swallow and again you struggle with the lump in your throat. "Make sure you stick around," she says slowly as if choosing those words over ones she actually wants to say. "In case we have any other... //questions//." She doesn't wait for a response, instead turning on her feet and swiftly walking away from you, disappearing somewhere into the busy station. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You don't want to believe it but you don't always have that luxury. You can't explain the gap in your memory or why you look the same when everyone else has changed, but with the facts all laid out in front of you, what choice do you have but to accept that as the truth. It doesn't make much sense to you, nor does any other explanation you come up with. And that leaves you here; confused, lost, //devastated.// Kelsey returns, her sudden reappearance shocking you out of your lamentation. You immediately sit up straighter, mentally preparing yourself for more questions that you won't be able to answer, not in the way she wants, but she doesn't walk further than the door. Her ice-cold glare settles back on your face, sending a chill down your spine. "You're free to go," she mutters between her teeth. She does a fine job of making sure you know that you being able to leave was not her decision. You nod and quickly get to your feet, desperate to leave this cold room and the even colder detective. You walk to the door with determination in your step but before you can even pass the woman, she stops you. Manicured hand gripping your shoulder. Again you swallow and again you struggle with the lump in your throat. "Make sure you stick around," she says slowly as if choosing those words over ones she actually wants to say. "In case we have any other... //questions//." She doesn't wait for a response, instead turning on her feet and swiftly walking away from you, disappearing somewhere into the busy station. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You make your way back to the reception on memory alone. You don't want to ask for help in fear that it will inspire another inquisition. You can only imagine the type of field day these officers would have with you. You don't give them the chance. In the reception, you find your mom, Callie and Grayson all waiting for you, the former two pulling you into a hug with spine snapping potential upon seeing you. Your mom must've called your sibling after you all arrived; you're grateful to have another familiar face. Grayson stands to the side, his eyes red and glossy as if he's been fighting back tears since he first saw you. It's strange to see him so emotional. He's never been a crier; he's always been the optimistic one. The walking definition of 'turn that frown upside down'. You don't think he's ever had a negative thought, you don't even think he's capable of those. No words are exchanged as you're escorted out the station, your mom and Callie holding onto you as if their lives depend on it, your best friend right behind you. You don't miss the way the receptionist watches the whole thing, her eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and confusion. You find comfort knowing that you're not the only one who doesn't understand what's going on. But not a lot. The drive home is just as silent. You don't know how the quiet managed to get even quieter but you find that impossible things have been proving to be quite possible today. Callie sits next to you, their arm wrapped around you in a vice-like grip. They shake slightly, eyes wet with tears that have mostly gone unshed, save for the two or three that have slipped down their cheeks, causing their eyeliner to run. Your mom sits in the front, occupying the passenger seat with her arm snaked around the back of the chair to hold your leg, the warmth of her palm centred on your knee. Grayson's driving, though you imagine he'd find some way to touch you as well. As if they're all afraid you're going to disappear again if they let you go, that you'll vanish into thin air and never come back. A valid fear, you think. If it's true. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The sun has just begun to set by the time Grayson pulls the car into the driveway. You remember how you felt hours ago; happy to be home, excited to set up for Callie's party. Both of those feelings are long gone. Replaced by something more dark and sinister. Replaced by a fear that if you walk through the front door again, something worse will happen. But you don't know how it gets worse than losing a decade of your life. Your mom leads the way up the stone pathway, through the door, to the living room. Callie's still hanging onto you by the time you sit down on the main couch. Grayson shuts the front door decisively before joining the three of you, collapsing down on the loveseat, his face buried in his hands. Silence once more descends on the room. You can't live like this; without words, without expression of the emotions rife within this room. You'll suffocate, choke, die. Something needs to change. You clear your throat... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... happy birthday, Callie."</div>' '3-5-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What happens now?"</div>' '3-5-2'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">But nothing comes out</div>' '3-5-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The silence only lasts a second before Callie bursts into laughter. You turn to look at them, the cold and mirthless sound turning your lips upward in a confused smile. Your mom watches them with furrowed eyebrows but she keeps her thoughts to herself. "This is all so fucked," they say, breathless as the last of their laughter dies. "Callie!" She snaps, scolding them from her place on the armchair. "What? It is!" Their reply is indignant and they're quick to turn their stern, $eye eyes onto you. "You've been missing for a decade and the only thing you have to say for yourself is fucking happy birthday?" You wilt against the couch cushions. You know it's the wrong thing to say - probably the dumbest thing you've //ever// said - but what else can you say? All anyone has are questions and here you sit with none of the answers, frustration burning in your chest, searing your lungs. "What do you want me to say, Cal?" "I want to know the truth, $name." They take a shuddering breath. "I want to know where you've been all this time." "I wish I had the answers for you but I don't." You hazard a glance at your mom, at Grayson. The former stares back at you, an incomprehensible sadness written across her face. The latter has his face buried in his hands. "I'm just as confused as the rest of you." You look back at your sibling and watch their bottom lip quiver. "That's such bullshit and you know it." They get off the couch with a huff and bolt for the door, refusing to stop even when your mom calls after them, pleading with them to stay. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-5-1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your mom sighs, rubbing a hand over her face before pulling herself to her feet. "I'll go check on them," she says, starting for the door before she hesitates, looking at you over her shoulder with a pleading look on her face. "Don't go anywhere, ok?" "I won't," you reply with a frown, nodding as you watch her leave the room, her footsteps muffled by the carpet in the passageway. You turn your attention to Grayson and find that he still has his elbows on his knees, his fingers tangled in his hair. You get up from the couch and move to sit next to him. "You believe me, right?" Slowly, he pulls his head back to look at you, something of a broken look on his face. Chewing on his bottom lip, he pauses as his eyes scan your face. "Yeah, Amzy; I do..." He heaves a sigh, leaning against the back of the loveseat as he sinks into the cushions. "But that still doesn't explain where you've been." You try to keep your frustration from seeping into your voice. If you knew the answer to that, you would tell him. "But I //haven't// been anywhere," you insist. "We were together this morning, remember? You overslept and missed half your stats class but you still stayed behind to have breakfast with me. Don't you remember any of that?" A sad smile tugs at his lips before it quickly falls away. "$name, look at me." You do as he says and focus your attention on his face. "Do I honestly look the same as I did when you last saw me?" You take a moment to think about it, to analyse the man sitting next to you. Five o'clock shadow; dark circles weighing his eyes down; his dark hair somehow even darker, messier, unevenly cut. His shoulders are broader, his arms defined by muscles and veins, his hands calloused. And that makes your frown deepen. "No." Another part of you breaks, a part that wanted to believe that this was all just a dream. "You look older, bigger... //really fucking tired.//" His tears finally begin to spill over in succession. "You look just as I remember," he says, his eyes filled with wonder and something akin to heartbreak. "I'm just the same old me." "Yeah... that's the problem." You can't find the right words to comfort him. Everything you can think of feels wrong on your tongue, deformed and uncomfortable even in your mind. And maybe the right words don't exist, as if they have yet to be created. Maybe the silence is better after all, as suffocating as it is. You're struck by a sudden tiredness, a heavy weight settling on your shoulders that threatens to drag you beneath the hardwood floors, and even though it's only a few minutes past seven, all you want to do is sleep. But you don't think sleep will come easy; there are too many thoughts in your head, too many questions, too many things you need to say. You don't know where to start. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Callie</div>' 'callie talk 3-6'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Nora</div>' 'nora talk 3-7'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say goodnight to Grayson</div>' 'goodnight grayson 3-8'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Grayson rubs a hand over his face, a sigh leaving his lips as he catches your eye. "Nothing," he says quietly, a disgruntled tone to his voice. "Not unless any leads come up." Callie scoffs and crosses their arms over their chest. "There hasn't been a lead for ten years... what would have changed?" "//$name//," he says, his eyes briefly finding yours before flicking back to your siblings. "$Them just sitting here changes everything." "That's a load of bullshit, Gray," Callie grumbles. Your mom sighs, fixing them with a tired stare. "Callie -" Your sibling cuts her off before she can get any further. "No, mom," they say, as if they know she's about to scold them. "I think we deserve some answers." They turn back to you, $eye eyes just as intense and accusatory as Kelsey's. "Do you have any idea the kind of hell we've all been through? We thought you were dead, for fuck's sake!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Callie!"</div>' '3-5-2-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The reprimanding tone of your mother's voice prevents them from going on but they don't look away from you. They don't even blink. You know they're right; they deserve answers. You deserve them too. But you don't know what those are and that has another part of you breaking. "What do you want me to say, Cal?" you ask softly. "I want to know the truth, $name." "I wish I knew what that was but I don't." You hazard a glance at your mom, at Grayson. The former stares back at you, an incomprehensible sadness written across her face. The latter still has his face in his hands. "I'm just as confused as the rest of you." You look back at your sibling and watch their bottom lip quiver. "That's such bullshit and you know it." They get off the couch with a huff and bolt for the door, refusing to stop even when your mom calls after them, pleading with them to stay. She sighs, rubbing a hand over her face before pulling herself to her feet. "I'll go check on them," she says, starting for the door before she hesitates, looking at you over her shoulder with a pleading look on her face. "Don't go anywhere, ok? "I won't," you reply with a frown, nodding as you watch her leave the room, her footsteps muffled by the carpet in the passageway. You turn your attention to Grayson and find that he still has his elbows on his knees, his fingers tangled in his hair. You get up from the couch and move to sit next to him. "You believe me, right?" Slowly, he pulls his head back to look at you, something of a broken look on his face. Chewing on his bottom lip, he pauses as his eyes scan your face. "Yeah, Amzy; I do..." He heaves a sigh, leaning against the back of the loveseat as he sinks into the cushions. "But that still doesn't explain where you've been." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-5-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You try to keep your frustration from seeping into your voice. If you knew the answer to that, you would tell him. "But I //haven't// been anywhere," you insist. "We were together this morning, remember? You overslept and missed half your stats class but you still stayed behind to have breakfast with me. Don't you remember any of that?" A sad smile tugs at his lips before it quickly falls away. "$name, look at me." You do as he says and focus your attention on his face. "Do I honestly look the same as I did when you last saw me?" You take a moment to think about it, to analyse the man sitting next to you. Five o'clock shadow; dark circles weighing his eyes down; his dark hair somehow even darker, messier, unevenly cut. His shoulders are broader, his arms defined by muscles and veins, his hands calloused. And that makes your frown deepen. "No." Another part of you breaks, a part that wanted to believe that this was all just a dream. "You look older, bigger... //really fucking tired.//" His tears finally begin to spill over in succession. "You look just as I remember," he says, his eyes filled with wonder and something akin to heartbreak. "I'm just the same old me." "Yeah... that's the problem." You can't find the right words to comfort him. Everything you can think of feels wrong on your tongue, deformed and uncomfortable even in your mind. And maybe the right words don't exist, as if they have yet to be created. Maybe the silence is better after all, as suffocating as it is. You're struck by a sudden tiredness, a heavy weight settling on your shoulders that threatens to drag you beneath the hardwood floors, and even though it's only a few minutes past seven, all you want to do is sleep. But you don't think sleep will come easy; there are too many thoughts in your head, too many questions, too many things you need to say. You don't know where to start. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Callie</div>' 'callie talk 3-6'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Nora</div>' 'nora talk 3-7'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say goodnight to Grayson</div>' 'goodnight grayson 3-8'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're not entirely sure why. You have so many questions, so many things you could say to fill the air. But you can't bring yourself to speak, no matter how much you want to, no matter how hard you try. You don't know where you'd even start. <<if $nickname is true>>Grayson catches your eye and somehow, he finds the courage to do what you can't. Talk. He tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, heaving a sigh as he says what they're all thinking. "I just... where have you been, $name2?"<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>Grayson catches your eye and somehow, he finds the courage to do what you can't. Talk. He tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, heaving a sigh as he says what they're all thinking. "I just... where have you been, $name?"<</if>> A small part of you breaks because you know you don't have the answer to that. Especially when they're all desperate for some kind of explanation. "I don't know how to answer that," you admit shamefully and you manage to catch a glimpse of a tear finally breaking free on Grayson's face before it's buried in his hands once more. Callie scoffs beside you as they release their hold on you, an incredulous look twisting their features. "You've been missing for ten years and all you have to say for yourself is 'I don't know'?" Your mom sighs, fixing them with a tired stare. "Callie -" Your sibling cuts her off before she can get any further. "No, mom," they say, as if they know she's about to scold them. "I think we deserve some answers." They turn back to you, $eye eyes just as intense and accusatory as Kelsey's. "Do you have any idea the kind of hell we've all been through? We thought you were dead, for fuck's sake!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Callie!"</div>' '3-5-3-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The reprimanding tone of your mother's voice prevents them from going on but they don't look away from you. They don't even blink. You know they're right; they deserve answers. You deserve them too. But you don't know what those are and that has another part of you breaking. "What do you want me to say, Cal?" you ask softly. "I want to know the truth, $name." "I wish I knew what that was but I don't." You hazard a glance at your mom, at Grayson. The former stares back at you, an incomprehensible sadness written across her face. The latter still has his face in his hands. "I'm just as confused as the rest of you." You look back at your sibling and watch their bottom lip quiver. "That's such bullshit and you know it." They get off the couch with a huff and bolt for the door, refusing to stop even when your mom calls after them, pleading with them to stay. She sighs, rubbing a hand over her face before pulling herself to her feet. "I'll go check on them," she says, starting for the door before she hesitates, looking at you over her shoulder with a pleading look on her face. "Don't go anywhere, ok?" "I won't," you reply with a frown, nodding as you watch her leave the room, her footsteps muffled by the carpet in the passageway. You turn your attention to Grayson and find that he still has his elbows on his knees, his fingers tangled in his hair. You get up from the couch and move to sit next to him. "You believe me, right?" Slowly, he pulls his head back to look at you, something of a broken look on his face. Chewing on his bottom lip, he pauses as his eyes scan your face. "Yeah, Amzy; I do..." He heaves a sigh, leaning against the back of the loveseat as he sinks into the cushions. "But that still doesn't explain where you've been." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-5-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Grayson tells you he's going to the bathroom and just like that, you're alone, sitting by yourself on the loveseat. Which, with the news of your disappearance, you thought would never happen, alone time a thing of the past. But now that you //are// alone, you can't stand it. The silence is worse like this and you find your thoughts turning down a dark corner. //No,// you think to yourself. //This won't do.// You get off the couch, allowing your feet to move on their own accord as they carry you out the room, down the passage, and up the stairs. Your eyes lock on the door of your childhood bedroom and your body aches for the reprieve that lies behind it but you come to a stop in front of Callie's door. You don't imagine they want to talk to you if their actions downstairs are anything to go by, but that doesn't stop you from knocking. You don't hear a reply from inside but neither does that stop you from entering. You find them sitting on their bed, knees pulled up to their chest as they lean back on a mountain of pillows. They glance up at you briefly before looking away once more, focusing their eyes on an //Insane Clown Posse// poster hanging on the opposite wall. "Hey," you say softly, closing the door behind you. You're not surprised when you don't get a reply. "Where's mom?" They shift away from you, still avoiding your eyes as you sit down on the bed beside them. "Downstairs," they grumble. "Making coffee." "Since when do you drink coffee?" You quirk an eyebrow up at them, a slight smile curling at your mouth that falls away when again they don't respond. "Cal, I'm sorry." They huff, quickly rubbing at their $eye eyes and you pretend you don't see the wet streak left behind by a tear on their cheek. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are you apologising?"</div>' 'callie talk 3-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Grayson tells you he's going to the bathroom and just like that, you're alone, sitting by yourself on the loveseat. Which, with the news of your disappearance, you thought would never happen, alone time a thing of the past. But now that you //are// alone, you can't stand it. The silence is worse like this and you find your thoughts turning down a dark corner. //No,// you think to yourself. //This won't do.// You get off the couch, allowing your feet to move on their own accord as they carry you out the room, and down the passage. You approach the staircase when you hear the clinking of glass in the kitchen and you instinctively turn in that direction. You find your mom standing at the island counter, stirring a mug amid the grocery bags you'd dumped there earlier. She looks up at you as you enter and a tired smile graces her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Is Callie okay?" You ask as you come to a stop on the other side of the counter. She tilts her head to the side as she looks down into the cup of coffee. "They'll be fine," she says, her words soft. "They just need a bit of time." You tap your fingers on the counter. "And are you okay, mom?" She takes a deep breath before looking up at you. "I will be." She gives you another warm, albeit sad, smile. "Now that you're home, it'll be easier." Looking at her now, //really// looking at her, you finally notice the wrinkles that line her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the slight greying in the roots of her hair, all of which were never there before. Not until today. But she's still your mom and she's still as beautiful as you always thought she was. No amount of time can change that. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Promise?"⚡</div>' 'nora talk 3-8'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical + 5, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wish I knew how to make things better."⚡</div>' 'nora talk 3-9'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The yawn that pulls at your jaw tells you not to start anywhere. "I... I'm too tired to think any more." "It has been a long day," he agrees, his eyes on his hands. Your own fingers twitch, longing to touch him in some way or other. You'd always been affectionate friends and to have that taken away from you in the blink of an eye - in the blink of your own eyes - is jarring to say the least. Time has brought with it new boundaries, a distance between you, a line you're not sure is wise to cross. Callie was right; it //is// bullshit. Every last thing. You tear your eyes away from him and get to your feet. "I think I'm gonna go to bed," you say and make for the door, to which he nods. "I'll tell Nora." You stop in the doorway, looking at him over your shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. "Where are you gonna sleep?" You know Grayson well, like the palm of your hand, and whatever time you may or may not have lost hasn't changed that. He's not going home, not tonight, not so long as you're here. And from the way he sits on the loveseat, arms crossed over his broad chest, you get the sense that sleeping here, in your childhood home, has become a common thing for him. As if to torture himself further. He clears his throat, blue eyes flicking to the couch and distinctly avoiding you. "Um, down here," he says, his voice clipped. "I'll get some blankets from the linen cupboard." Your eyebrows furrow further, a frown taking shape on your lips <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you sure?"</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don\'t be ridiculous, Gray; you can sleep in my room."</div>' 'grayson sleepover 3-8'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Wouldn't be the first time," you add and when he eventually brings his eyes up to yours, you give him a smile. "Come on, you know you want to." "I don't know, $name-" "You're gonna tell me you'd prefer the couch over bunking with me?" You stare at him for a moment before the smallest of smiles breaks out on his face. "Fine," he says. "Only because I know you won't let it go if I say otherwise." He clambers to his feet and after failing to do so earlier, you take the time to admire just how much bigger he really is as he stretches. He's not exactly taller; he peaked at a final six foot one in grade ten, but there's simply no other way to describe it. He's too big for this room, taking up too much space for one person, but he looks at ease, as if this is the place he feels most comfortable. You suppose you can't blame him for that. "I'll meet you up there," he says as he follows you out the living room, though as you head for the stairs, he makes his way down the passage, presumably to talk to your mother. You wonder briefly what he might have to say to her but decide not to think about it too much. It's probably for the best that you don't know anyway. You reach the top of the stairs and make for your old bedroom, glancing towards Callie's door momentarily before going inside, a sigh leaving your lips. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You walk through the room in the dark before flicking on the bedside lamp</div>' 'grayson sleepover 3-8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Nothing's changed, despite the amount of time that's passed. Though that doesn't surprise you. Your posters still adorn the walls, your books still line the shelves, your pinboard is still decorated with photos and momentos from your highschool days. It's strange; this room used to be your sanctuary, a safe place to escape to when the world became too much to bear, but now... now it just feels weird. A feeling you've been getting more and more the longer the day draws on. Weird and empty and cold and lonely. You suppose this is how everyone around you felt too. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamp light. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. You don't understand how someone can feel so alone, so out of place, even when surrounded by people. Grayson appears then, knocking on the door as he enters, inflatable mattress and blanket in hand. You furrow your eyebrows at him as you lean back on your arms, your mind moving away from your depressing thoughts in favour of your best friend. "C'mon, Gray," you say. "First the couch, now this? I really don't mind sharing, I promise." He doesn't respond at first, offering you a shrug as he sets the box down in front of your cupboard. "I didn't want to assume," he says softly. His voice, normally warm and affectionate, sounds hollow somehow, like he's saying the words without meaning them. You don't want to argue, don't want to force him to do anything he doesn't want to do. You lift your shoulders in a shrug of your own, smiling more to yourself than him as you kick off your shoes and throw yourself over bed, spreading your limbs out in a starfish position. "Suit yourself, Gronk. That just means more space for me, myself and I." He chuckles then and it's a good sound to hear after the melancholy of the day. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine," he says, rolling his eyes dramatically as he kicks off his boots. "Move over."❤️</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8'>><<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 20, 0, 100), $gray_friendship to Math.clamp($gray_friendship - 20, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">He doubles over in a bow. "Enjoy, my liege."</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You do as asked and he climbs onto the bed beside you, finding yourself laying face to face with him. Despite there being ample space in your double bed, he does his best to make himself as small as possible; which, obviously, doesn't exactly work out as he planned, given his size. Laughing quietly to yourself, you shuffle even closer to him and curl into his chest. The silence settles over the two of you like a blanket, comfortable and warm, but you can't help catching sight of the conflicting emotions flashing his face. You open your mouth, a question of 'what's wrong?' ready to roll off your tongue, when he moves, his actions halting you in your tracks. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight against him. //"I've missed you so fucking much."// His words are mumbled into your shoulder but you don't miss a thing he says. And if it'll keep the tears out of his eyes and the crack out of his voice, you won't ever again. "I missed you too," you say. You know that the length of time between when you last saw each other differs between the two of you, but it doesn't matter. Every second you spend away from him is a second too long. Perhaps that makes you crazy or obsessed or dependent on him - perhaps all three - you don't care. You'd never broach the topice with him but you get the feeling that Grayson feels that way too. No more words are spoken on the matter. His arms remain closed around you, your face pressed against his chest. The soft wool of his sweater cushions your cheek and his cologne washes over you, filling and intoxicating your senses, leaving you wanting more. It's not a scent you're familiar with but you think that it matches him perfectly; rich and earthy, a smell of trees and nature and freedom. It comforts and relaxes you, and you (semi-unconsciously) snuggle even closer to him. You're both still fully dressed and the light's still on but you're too far gone to do anything about either of those, and it's not long before you find yourself drifting off to sleep. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You laugh as you roll over onto your side and watch as he kneels on the floor, unboxing the mattress. His blue eyes flick up towards you and small smile unfolds on his face. "Just gonna lay there and watch me, huh?" He asks, unfolding the mattress on the expanse on your bedroom floor. You purse your lips at him. "It's self inflating," you reply. "There's not much else for me to do here." He shakes his head, his smile growing slightly as the mattress begins to inflate. //"Zboczeniec,"// he says softly to himself though still loud enough for you to hear. You narrow your eyes at him. "I don't know what that means but I don't like the sound of it." "It means 'my wonderful best friend'." "Liar!" You grab a pillow and throw it at him, though he easily catches it. Laughing, he stands up and clutches the pillow to his chest. "This is mine now," he says before dropping it down on the mattress, which is almost fully inflated. He then gestures to your clothes. "Do you plan on sleeping in that?" You shrug as you sit up, crossing you legs beneath you. "Don't exactly have anything else," you say. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Before you can continue, you get hit in the face by his balled up sweater.</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pull the article of clothing off your head just in time to see him toss his jeans in the corner of the room. Now standing in his shirt, boxers and socks, he lays down on the mattress, stretching across the length of it, his feet and most of his calves hanging off the end. He folds his hands under his head, making use of the pillow you threw at him. "Use that," he says, nodding towards the sweater in your hands. "Or don't. But it'll probably be a lot more comfortable." "Oh, my hero." You press the back of your hand against your forehead as you look up toward the ceiling. "Whatever would I do without you?" "Give it back then." "No way," you say, clutching the sweater to your chest as you climb off the bed and he shakes his head at you in amusement. "Look away," you add and he dutifully slaps a hand over his eyes. Chuckling quietly to yourself, you strip out of your clothes and slip on his sweater before climbing under the covers. Hearing the shuffle of sheets, he removes his hand, glancing at you briefly before reaching for the blanket he brought with him. You wait for him to get settled before flicking off the lamp. The silence settles over you and it stays that way for a long time. You start to think that he's fallen asleep when he speaks. "I'm really glad you're home, $name," he says softly, almost more to himself than to you. "I missed you so, //so// much." You're not sure what to say in response. You don't think there is anything //to// say. It's all too confusing; the length of time between when you last saw each other differs between the two of you. A couple of hours is laughable in comparison to ten years. That's not really something you can overlook. You roll over to face the wall and say the only thing you can think of. "Goodnight, Gray." He doesn't respond immediately and for a moment you think he never will, but he does eventually. Just as you're beginning to drift off, you hear it; the words more distant and sad than you think they should be. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Goodnight, $name."</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He looks back down at the couch and hesitates, as if debating his answer. "Yeah, I'm sure." He says, giving you a tight lipped smile. It's clear to you that he's not, not with his hesitation but you don't want to push him. And as much as you want to insist that he follows you, you don't do that either. Maybe it's better this way; some alone time could be good for you. After all, you don't know when that will be afforded to you again. You nod then, swallowing all the things you want to say and all the things you probably should. "Goodnight, Gray," you tell him and he echoes your sentiment. Without another glance back, you make your way out the living room, down the passage and up the stairs. You reach the the second floor landing and make for your childhood bedroom, glancing towards Callie's door momentarily before going inside, a sigh leaving your lips. You walk through the room in the dark before flicking on the bedside lamp. Nothing's changed, despite the amount of time that's passed. Though that doesn't surprise you. Your posters still adorn the walls, your books still line the shelves, your pinboard is still decorated with photos and momentos from your highschool days. It's strange; this room used to be your sanctuary, a safe place to escape to when the world became too much to bear, but now... now it just feels weird. A feeling you've been getting more and more the longer the day draws on. Weird and empty and cold and lonely. You suppose this is how everyone around you felt too. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamp light. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. You don't understand how someone can feel so alone, so out of place, even when surrounded by people. You shake your head softly; you shouldn't dwell on dark thoughts. You're too tired to continue thinking anyway. Standing up, you strip down to your underwear and climb under the covers. You forget to turn off the light but it makes no difference. The second your head hits the pillow, sleep has you in it's clutches and you find yourself drifting off. It doesn't take you very long to succimb to unconsciouness either. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Morning comes too soon. You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and when you glance over your shoulder at the bedside table, two mugs of what is now cold tea sitting on the edge, you figure your mom had come in last night and turned it off for you. A pang of regret shoots through you that you didn't talk to her before going to bed but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. Grayson is still asleep; curled in on himself with the blankets pulled almost over his eyes, you'd briefly forgotten his ability to sleep like the dead. The rest house is quiet and you figure that your mom and Callie are both still fast asleep as well. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom as silently as you can, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and when you glance over your shoulder at the bedside table, a mug of what is now cold tea sitting on the edge, you figure your mom had come in last night and turned it off for you. A pang of regret shoots through you that you didn't talk to her before going to bed but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. The house is quiet and you figure that everyone else is still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the warmth that rolls off Grayson's body and his arms that still encompass you, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and a thin, fluffy blanket is draped over the two of you; you figure your mom had come in last night and done both for you. A pang of regret shoots through you that you didn't talk to her before going to bed - as well as a twinge of embarrassment at being caught with Gray like this - but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. You extricate yourself from Grayson as carefully as you can, not wanting to wake him up. Though your precautions are unnecessary - you'd briefly forgotten his ability to sleep like the dead - and you end up climbing over him, stretching your stiff limbs and biting back a curse as the cold morning air hits you full force. The house is quiet and you figure that your mom and Callie are both still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you shuffle out of your room and make your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The colour hasn't changed either; matching that of your father's: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">but long since dyed</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The colour hasn't changed either; matching that of your father's: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">but long since dyed</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The colour hasn't changed either; matching that of your father's: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">but long since dyed</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Though it remains untouched, you know that the way you style your hair remains as it always has: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">as it is naturally</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "naturally">><</link>></center> <<if $short_hair is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in a ponytail</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "tied up">><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in plaits</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "plaited">><</link>></center> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in braids</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in braids">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in cornrows</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in cornrows">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in locs</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in locs">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in twists</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in twists">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in an afro</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in an afro">><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Though it remains untouched, you know that the way you style your hair remains as it always has: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">as it is naturally</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "naturally">><</link>></center> <<if $short_hair is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in a ponytail</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "tied up">><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in plaits</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "plaited">><</link>></center> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in braids</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in braids">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in cornrows</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in cornrows">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in locs</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in locs">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in twists</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in twists">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in an afro</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in an afro">><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Though it remains untouched, you know that the way you style your hair remains as it always has: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">as it is naturally</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "naturally">><</link>></center> <<if $short_hair is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in a ponytail</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "tied up">><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in plaits</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "plaited">><</link>></center> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in braids</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in braids">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in cornrows</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in cornrows">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in locs</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in locs">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in twists</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in twists">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in an afro</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-5'>><<set $hair_style to "in an afro">><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-3'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking at your face and body; your skin is as you remember it to be, the colour of: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking at your face and body; your skin is as you remember it to be, the colour of: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking at your face and body; your skin is as you remember it to be, the colour of: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You straighten your back as you take in every detail of your body: <<nobr>><center>''(You may choose as many or as few skin details as you want)''</center> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $freckles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">freckles</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $freckles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $dimples is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dimples</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $dimples to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $acne is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">acne</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $acne to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $eye_circles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark eye circles</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $eye_circles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $top_scars is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">top surgery scars</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><<set $top_scars to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tattoos</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">piercings</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-8'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <</nobr>>

You straighten your back as you take in every detail of your body: <<nobr>><center>''(You may choose as many or as few skin details as you want)''</center> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $freckles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">freckles</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $freckles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $dimples is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dimples</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $dimples to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $acne is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">acne</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $acne to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $eye_circles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark eye circles</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $eye_circles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tattoos</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">piercings</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-9'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <</nobr>>

You straighten your back as you take in every detail of your body: <<nobr>><center>''(You may choose as many or as few skin details as you want)''</center> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $freckles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">freckles</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $freckles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $dimples is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dimples</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $dimples to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $acne is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">acne</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $acne to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $eye_circles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark eye circles</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><<set $eye_circles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tattoos</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">piercings</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-8'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sleeve_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full sleeves</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full body tattoos</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $orchid_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An orchid drawn by Nora</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $orchid_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lavender_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lavender flower drawn by Callie</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $lavender_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $rose_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A rose drawn by Kennedy</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $rose_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $gralex_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A realistic portrait of your cat, Gralex</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $gralex_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lion_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lion eating a grapefruit</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $lion_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $mountain_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A mountain range</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $mountain_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $chinese_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"> A Chinese character, which you thought meant strength....but then was told it meant \'bucket\' only after you got it </div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $chinese_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An illustration of the sun and moon</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $quote_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The quote \'C\'est La Vie\' written in Grayson\'s handwriting</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $quote_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $number_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Alex\'s number, 10</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $number_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $wings_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Angel wings</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $wings_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sleeve_tattoos is false>><<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full sleeves</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full body tattoos</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $orchid_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An orchid drawn by Nora</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $orchid_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lavender_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lavender flower drawn by Callie</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $lavender_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $rose_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A rose drawn by Kennedy</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $rose_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $gralex_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A realistic portrait of your cat, Gralex</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $gralex_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lion_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lion eating a grapefruit</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $lion_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $mountain_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A mountain range</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $mountain_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $chinese_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A Chinese character, which you thought meant strength....but then was told it meant \'bucket\' only after you got it</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $chinese_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An illustration of the sun and moon</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $quote_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The quote \'C\'est La Vie\' written in Grayson\'s handwriting</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $quote_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $number_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Alex\'s number, 10</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-7'>><<set $number_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $wings_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Angel wings</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-8'>><<set $wings_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sleeve_tattoos is false>><<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full sleeves</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full body tattoos</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $orchid_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An orchid drawn by Nora</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $orchid_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lavender_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lavender flower drawn by Callie</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $lavender_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $rose_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A rose drawn by Kennedy</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $rose_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $gralex_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A realistic portrait of your cat, Gralex</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $gralex_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lion_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lion eating a grapefruit</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $lion_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $mountain_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A mountain range</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $mountain_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $chinese_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A Chinese character, which you thought meant strength....but then was told it meant \'bucket\' only after you got it</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $chinese_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An illustration of the sun and moon</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $quote_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The quote \'C\'est La Vie\' written in Grayson\'s handwriting</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $quote_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $number_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Alex\'s number, 10</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $number_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $wings_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Angel wings</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-7'>><<set $wings_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sceptum_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A sceptum piercing</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-8'>><<set $sceptum_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $lip_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lip piercing</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-8'>><<set $lip_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $tongue_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A tongue piercing</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-8'>><<set $tongue_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $industrial_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An industrial piercing</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-8'>><<set $industrial_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $helix_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A helix piercing</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-8'>><<set $helix_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sceptum_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A sceptum piercing</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-9'>><<set $sceptum_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $lip_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lip piercing</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-9'>><<set $lip_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $tongue_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A tongue piercing</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-9'>><<set $tongue_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $industrial_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An industrial piercing</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-9'>><<set $industrial_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $helix_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A helix piercing</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-9'>><<set $helix_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sceptum_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A sceptum piercing</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-8'>><<set $sceptum_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $lip_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lip piercing</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-8'>><<set $lip_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $tongue_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A tongue piercing</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-8'>><<set $tongue_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $industrial_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An industrial piercing</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-8'>><<set $industrial_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $helix_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A helix piercing</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-8'>><<set $helix_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time you're done assessing your reflection. You like to imagine that you know your appearance pretty well and as far as you can tell; you look the exact same as you did the last time you looked in a mirror. How is it possible to lose so much time without having anything to show for it? You turn away from the mirror, disgruntled and unsatisfied with your findings, you strip out of your clothes and step beneath the steady stream of water. It's way too hot, your skin stinging from the heat, but you find that you need the extreme. You crave it. Anything to keep your mind off the situation you find yourself in. And it works; pain, of any kind, demands full attention. It will not be overlooked. You give it what it wants. You take your time, treating the act of getting clean with extreme care. It's delicate work that not only distracts you but has a wave of calm washing over you. In this small, secluded space, surrounded by soaps and pale green tiles, you're not you; not a missing person, not the cause of suspicion or heartbreak. Not $name $lastname. You're just a person getting clean and taking a much needed break. By the time you shut off the water and step onto the bathmat, the sun has fully risen. You don't know how much of the day you've already lost - you guess about an hour, perhaps slightly more - but you feel refreshed, like a new person and that's what gives you the courage to face what lies ahead. You dry yourself off with the hand towel (having forgotten to bring one in yourself) and get dressed in your clothes from the day before. You turn back to the mirror, eyeing your reflection with mistrust, before heaving a sigh and leaving the bathroom, residual steam pouring out behind you. Your bedroom is empty when you return, though you know Grayson wouldn't have gone far. Not without you. You can hear the TV playing downstairs and you make the guess that your mom and Callie are now awake too, though you have your doubts about your sibling. They never were a morning person; you distinctly remember having to drag them out of bed for school on multiple occasions. You can't say they were ever happy with you when you did. You let your feet take you down the passage and down the staircase, the sound growing louder with each step. You catch a glimpse of your mom in the kitchen as you pass by, next finding Grayson and Callie in the living room. They seemed to have resumed their seats from the night before; him on the loveseat, them on the couch. Like you, Grayson wears his clothes from yesterday, though his shirt is wrinkled and his jeans are unbuttoned as if he pulled them on in a rush, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Callie looks just as dishevelled; though they wear what can loosely be described as pyjamas - a black sports bra and a pair of oversized basketball shorts - their own hair is just as bedraggled and their eyeliner is smudged around their eyes, some of it smudged across their cheeks too. You realize they're watching the news. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Grayson</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-10-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Callie</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-10-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time you're done assessing your reflection. You like to imagine that you know your appearance pretty well and as far as you can tell; you look the exact same as you did the last time you looked in a mirror. How is it possible to lose so much time without having anything to show for it? You turn away from the mirror, disgruntled and unsatisfied with your findings, you strip out of your clothes and step beneath the steady stream of water. It's way too hot, your skin stinging from the heat, but you find that you need the extreme. You crave it. Anything to keep your mind off the situation you find yourself in. And it works; pain, of any kind, demands full attention. It will not be overlooked. You give it what it wants. You take your time, treating the act of getting clean with extreme care. It's delicate work that not only distracts you but has a wave of calm washing over you. In this small, secluded space, surrounded by soaps and pale green tiles, you're not you; not a missing person, not the cause of suspicion or heartbreak. Not $name $lastname. You're just a person getting clean and taking a much needed break. By the time you shut off the water and step onto the bathmat, the sun has fully risen. You don't know how much of the day you've already lost - you guess about an hour, perhaps slightly more - but you feel refreshed, like a new person and that's what gives you the courage to face what lies ahead. You dry yourself off with the hand towel (having forgotten to bring one in yourself) and get dressed in your clothes from the day before, Gray's sweater on top. You turn back to the mirror, eyeing your reflection with mistrust, before heaving a sigh and leaving the bathroom, residual steam pouring out behind you. Your bedroom is empty when you return, though you know Grayson wouldn't have gone far. Not without you. You can hear the TV playing downstairs and you make the guess that your mom and Callie are now awake too, though you have your doubts about your sibling. They never were a morning person; you distinctly remember having to drag them out of bed for school on multiple occasions. You can't say they were ever happy with you when you did. You let your feet take you down the passage and down the staircase, the sound growing louder with each step. You catch a glimpse of your mom in the kitchen as you pass by, next finding Grayson and Callie in the living room. They seemed to have resumed their seats from the night before; him on the loveseat, them on the couch. Like you, Grayson wears his clothes from yesterday, though his shirt is wrinkled and his jeans are unbuttoned as if he pulled them on in a rush, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Callie looks just as dishevelled; though they wear what can loosely be described as pyjamas - a black sports bra and a pair of oversized basketball shorts - their own hair is just as bedraggled and their eyeliner is smudged around their eyes, some of it smudged across their cheeks too. You realize they're watching the news. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Grayson</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-11-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Callie</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-11-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time you're done assessing your reflection. You like to imagine that you know your appearance pretty well and as far as you can tell; you look the exact same as you did the last time you looked in a mirror. How is it possible to lose so much time without having anything to show for it? You turn away from the mirror, disgruntled and unsatisfied with your findings, you strip out of your clothes and step beneath the steady stream of water. It's way too hot, your skin stinging from the heat, but you find that you need the extreme. You crave it. Anything to keep your mind off the situation you find yourself in. And it works; pain, of any kind, demands full attention. It will not be overlooked. You give it what it wants. You take your time, treating the act of getting clean with extreme care. It's delicate work that not only distracts you but has a wave of calm washing over you. In this small, secluded space, surrounded by soaps and pale green tiles, you're not you; not a missing person, not the cause of suspicion or heartbreak. Not $name $lastname. You're just a person getting clean and taking a much needed break. By the time you shut off the water and step onto the bathmat, the sun has fully risen. You don't know how much of the day you've already lost - you guess about an hour, perhaps slightly more - but you feel refreshed, like a new person and that's what gives you the courage to face what lies ahead. You dry yourself off with the hand towel (having forgotten to bring one in yourself) and get dressed in your clothes from the day before. You turn back to the mirror, eyeing your reflection with mistrust, before heaving a sigh and leaving the bathroom, residual steam pouring out behind you. You can hear the TV playing downstairs and you let your feet take you down the passage, down the stairs; the sound growing louder with each step. You can only guess that everyone else is awake by now, though you have your doubts about Callie. They never were a morning person; you distinctly remember having to drag them out of bed for school on multiple occasions. You can't say they were ever happy with you when you did. You catch a glimpse of your mom in the kitchen as you pass by, next finding Grayson and Callie in the living room. They seemed to have resumed their seats from the night before; him on the loveseat, them on the couch. Like you, Grayson wears his clothes from yesterday, though his shirt is wrinkled and his jeans are unbuttoned as if he pulled them on in a rush, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Callie looks just as dishevelled; though they wear what can loosely be described as pyjamas - a black sports bra and a pair of oversized basketball shorts - their own hair is just as bedraggled and their eyeliner is smudged around their eyes, some of it smudged across their cheeks too. You realize they're watching the news. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Grayson</div>' 'sleep alone 3-8-10'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Callie</div>' 'grayson cuddle 3-8-10-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He glances up at you as you approach, a smile unfolding on his face, before he clears his throat and quickly looks away, his blue eyes slightly wide in embarrassment. He moves over on the loveseat and as you sit down next to him, you're all too aware of your thigh pressed against his. You can still feel the heat radiating off of him, like some contagion, though it's not as strong as it was the night before. No, you'd need to be embraced in his arms to feel the full effect of his body's warmth and you have no idea when that'll be again. In light of this thought, you shift yourself even closer to him and the sharp intake of his breath is somewhat satisfying, realizing that you have some kind of effect on him. He doesn't look at you again, instead focussing his attention on the TV screen. You're about to ask what they're watching when you stop yourself. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They don't look up at you as you approach, $eye eyes trained on the TV, nor do they look away when you sit down next to them. In fact, they even shuffle away from you, crossing their arms over their chest as they lean back into their corner of the couch. You heave a sigh, opening your mouth to ask what they're watching when they shush preemptively, though your unasked question is quickly answered nevertheless. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname appears on the doorstep of their childhood home." Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He glances up at you as you approach, his eyes fixated on his sweater and how it hangs down to your thighs before he quickly looks away from you, his cheeks twinged ever so slightly in red. He moves over on the loveseat, giving you the space to sit next to him though he doesn't look at you again, instead focussing his attention on the TV screen. You're about to ask what they're watching when you stop yourself. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They don't look up at you as you approach, $eye eyes trained on the TV, nor do they look away when you sit down next to them. In fact, they even shuffle away from you, crossing their arms over their chest as they lean back into their corner of the couch. You heave a sigh, opening your mouth to ask what they're watching when they shush preemptively, though your unasked question is quickly answered nevertheless. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname appears on the doorstep of their childhood home." Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You blink as the TV now shows a press conference being held in front of the police station. A well-dressed man stands before the dozens of gathered reporters, their microphones thrust up toward his weathered face. A banner unfolds on screen, naming him Police Captain Miller. He holds a hand up to silence the crowd before speaking. "We're not at yet liberty to release any details," he starts, his brown eyes bouncing from reporter to reporter, specifically avoiding the camera pointed at him. "But we are happy to say that $name has been reunited with $their family and $is_are currently safe." A reporter is quick to jump in, hardly even waiting for him to punctuate his sentence before throwing their questions at him. "Captain Miller, has the case been reopened and do you have any new leads or suspects?" "We have reopened the case but again until we have more information, that is all I'm at liberty to say." Other reporters call out to him, asking questions but he cuts them with another raised hand. "No more questions." The TV cuts back to the news anchor but you don't hear anything she says. This is //real//. "//'Not at liberty'//," Callie scoffs as they lean back on the couch. "That means they have jack shit." They pause for a moment before looking at Grayson. "No offence." "None taken," he sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. "You're not wrong anyway; we've had jack shit for the last decade." Your mind registers that the two of them are still talking but all you can hear is the beating of your own heart. Frankly, you don't know what to think. For all intents and purposes, your life is over; there's no way it wouldn't be after losing ten years of your life. You're not twenty-two anymore; you're supposed to be older and wiser, a person who has their life together. Everything you're currently not and won't be for a long time. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You lift your shoulders in a shrug. "It felt like the right thing to say." You pause as you turn your body to face them, crossing your legs beneath you. "I just don't want us to fight." A heavy sigh leaves their lips and they finally look at you. "We're not fighting," they mutter, picking at a loose thread on the duvet. "It's just... complicated, okay?" "It doesn't have to be." "But it //is//." You don't know what to say in response, but they seem to have you covered in that regard. "I'm not like mom; I couldn't just keep hoping that you'd magically appear. I mean, you've been gone for ten years, $name... ten years is a really long fucking time to hold out hope that you're still alive. The hope eventually runs out." "But I am alive." You give the smile another try. "Doesn't that count for something?" They tilt their head as they look at you, once again ignoring your question. "Do you really not know anything?" They sigh when you shake your head, staring at you with glossy eyes. When you first walked in, they could barely bring themself to look at you; now it seems that they can't look away. "God, I can't get over it... you still look like you're twenty-two." "I //am// twenty-two, Cal." "And I'm the pope." They shake their head, as if out of everything, //that's// the part that doesn't make sense. They groan loudly and throw their head back against the pillow mountain as they reach for the top drawer of their bedside table. "I need a smoke." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Got enough to share?"</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Callie, no!"</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They smile at you as they pull a carton of cigarettes from the drawer. "That's right," they say, tapping the box against their knee. "I forgot how much of a chain smoker you were." "Hey, I didn't chain smoke!" They shift on the bed, shooting you a pointed look that has you looking to the floor. "...//for long//." "Whatever," they scoff, climbing off the bed and stretching their shoulders before turning to the window. "You coming to the roof or not?" You follow your sibling as they climb out the window and onto the windowsill, using the apple tree just outside their room to climb onto the roof. A faint smile unfolds on your face as you recall the dozens of times you did this exact thing during high school. Although without a tree conveniently outside your bedroom window, you had to make use of a few poorly executed parkour moves. They sit down with their back pressed to the chimney and you sit beside them. They stick a cigarette between their teeth and light it before handing you both the carton and lighter. Silence builds between the two of you as you light your own cigarette and you sit like that for a moment, eyes on the sky, smoke in your lungs. You rest your arm on your knee as you flick the ash off the cigarette, glancing briefly at Callie. "How long have you been smoking?" "Couple years," they say with a shrug as if they couldn't be bothered to think of the exact date. "The stress was getting to me a bit." You frown, taking another drag. "I'm sorry, Cal." They glance at you before looking back at the house across the street. "Stop apologising," they grumble. They heave a sigh after a moment, sagging against the bricks as they look at you once more. "I'm happy you're home. I mean... I'm really fucking happy you're home." They take a drag, smoke pouring from their mouth before they speak again. "I was so convinced you were dead." You scrunch your face up at them. "Ouch." They roll their eyes, a chuckle leaving their lips that sounds more pained than anything else. "Yeah, well; thinking you were dead was easier than thinking you were somewhere out there, alive and suffering." "I get it." More silence, more drags, more smoke blown into the night air. You tilt your head to the side. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you ever go missing, I hope you die too."⚡</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-1-1'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"How\s mom been?"⚡</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2-1'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They stare at you for a moment, a blank look on their face before they erupt with laughter. You smile at them, flicking your cigarette before you join in. "That's not fucking funny." "And yet you're //still// laughing." "Because you're an idiot." The laughter stops eventually; it always does. It has to. But their smile remains and you find that that's all that matters. You hate to see them unhappy. They look down at their hands and their cigarette, the red hot embers burning down close to the filter. "It feels good to laugh for a bit." "I imagine it would be." You take your final drag, inhaling deeply and holding your breath for a quick second before blowing out the last of the smoke. It's been years since your last cigarette, having quit a few months after graduating, but right now, in this moment, it feels as if no time has passed at all. And in a sense, it hasn't. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-1-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're just putting the cigarette out on the roof tiles when Callie's voice pulls you from your thoughts, stubbing out their own smoke. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" You frown at them, hugging your knees to your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now let's go back inside; I'm tired and cold. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Nora</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say goodnight to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They scoff, a blank look on their face as they stare off into the night. "How do you think?" "Right," you nod, chewing on your bottom lip. "Probably a dumb question." They hum in agreement. "The dumbest." You sigh and lie back on the roof tiles, the cigarette hanging loosely between your lips as your rest your hands on your stomach. "I don't know what else there is to say, Cal," you say in earnest, glancing up at your sibling only to find them already looking at you, a softness in their eyes. "Other than apologising over and over." "I don't think there //is// anything to say," they mumble, shrugging. "But if there is, it certainly isn't 'sorry'." They give you a pointed look and hold up their cigarette for you to see, the burning embers something of a beacon in the dark of night. "If you apologise again, I'm gonna put this out on you." You grin at them and raise your hands in defence. "What's with the threats?" you ask, laughing around the cigarette still stuck between your teeth. "I thought you were happy to have me home." "I can do both," they say with another shrug. You take your final drag, inhaling deeply and holding your breath for a quick second before blowing out the last of the smoke. It's been years since your last cigarette, having quit a few months after graduating, but right now, in this moment, it feels as if no time has passed at all. And in a sense, it hasn't. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're just putting the cigarette out on the roof tiles when Callie's voice pulls you from your thoughts, stubbing out their own smoke. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" You frown at them, hugging your knees to your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now let's go back inside; I'm tired and cold. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Nora</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say goodnight to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You snatch the carton of cigarettes out of their hand just as they pull it from their drawer. They roll their eyes and lean forward to take it back only for you to pull it out of their reach. "God, when did you become such a narc?" they grumble as they slump back down on their pillows. "It's a really bad habit, Cal," you say. "You could die." "Cry me a river, $name." "One day, you and your perfectly working lungs are gonna thank me." "Maybe I want lung cancer, did you ever think about that?" You give your sibling a flat look. "That's probably the dumbest thing I've ever heard and I'm literally in a study group with a bunch of frat dudes. Do you know how impressive that is?" They roll their eyes but smile despite themself. "Fine, I won't smoke," they say and you return their smile. "When you're around that is." "Why do I even bother with you?" You ask, shaking your head. Callie doesn't respond but they continue to smile at you, their expression seeming more genuine than before. "What? Why are you smiling at me like that?" "I'm happy you're not dead in some psycho's basement." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2-1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Thank you?" You scrunch your face up, laughing in time with your sibling. "You know, the love just radiates off you, Cal." They nudge you in the side with their elbow, suddenly shy as they focus on their duvet, pulling on a loose thread. "I mean it; I'm really glad you're home." They glance up at you, the corner of their eyes crinkling as they smile again. "You're very difficult to live without." You grin at them. "You too." They collapse back on the mountain of pillows and fix you with a suddenly serious expression. "Now I'm not saying suicide was an option but I was pretty close to turning to alcoholism." "Lung cancer isn't enough for you, you want liver failure too?" They lift their shoulders in a shrug. "If I had to choose between that and living the rest of my life without you, yeah." The room descends in silence and for a moment the two of you just sit together. It's comfortable, familiar; they had always been your rock, a constant presence in your life that you could turn to whenever you need them, even more so than Grayson. And as difficult as today has been for you, you imagine it's only been worse for them. You nudge their leg and they look at you for a moment before moving over, giving you space to stretch out on the bed next to them. You lay side by side, arms pressed against each other and you turn your head to look at them. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If I had to live without you, I\'d probably turn to meth."⚡</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2-1-2'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"How\s mom been?"⚡</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2-1-3'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They turn their gaze away from the ceiling to you and they raise their hand to their chest. "You really mean that?" "Cross my heart." Their touched, emotional expression morphs into a grin. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." They pause for a moment, their smile slowly slipping away and you furrow your eyebrows at them. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" You frown at them, crossing your arms over your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now get out of my room; I'm tired. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Nora</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say goodnight to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They scoff, a blank look on their face as they keep their eyes trained on the ceiling. "What do you think?" "Right," you nod, chewing on your bottom lip. "Probably a dumb question." They hum in agreement. "The dumbest." "I don't know what else there is to say, Cal," you say in earnest, resting your hands on your stomach as you follow their gaze. Their ceiling is painted black and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. A fond smile touches at your lips as the memory of helping them stick the stars up there flits across your mind, though it falls away just as quick as it appeared. "Other than apologising over and over." "I don't think there //is// anything to say," they mumble, shrugging. "But if there is, it certainly isn't 'sorry'." You look at them just as they do you and they give you a toothy grin. "If you apologise again, I'm gonna punch you in the face." You grin at them and raise your hands in defence. "What's with the threats?" you laugh. "I thought you were happy to have me home." "I can do both," they say with another shrug. They pause for a moment, their smile slowly slipping away and you furrow your eyebrows at them. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie talk 3-8-2-1-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You frown at them, crossing your arms over your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now get out of my room; I'm tired. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Nora</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say goodnight to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pull Callie's door shut behind you and make your way down the passage to the staircase, the carpet muffling your footsteps. You feel better after talking to them, lighter, almost as if by just being in your sibling's presence, an invisible weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You're still incredibly tired and your stomach is still a knotted mess of emotions but you find it a bit easier to smile. You take the stairs two at a time and as you step off the staircase, hear the clinking of glass in the kitchen and you instinctively turn in that direction. You find your mom standing at the island counter, stirring a mug amid the grocery bags you'd dumped there earlier. She looks up at you as you enter and a tired smile graces her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "How are they doing?" she asks as you come to a stop on the other side of the counter. "As good as can be," you reply as you pick up the bottle of champagne, your thumb rubbing over the label. "I wish we could've celebrated their birthday, instead of -" you gesture with your hand, vaguely alluding to the situation you find yourself in. "Well, you know." She smiles at you again and it's just as fleeting as the last. "They don't really celebrate their birthday anymore," she says softly, tilting her head to the side as she looks down into the cup of coffee. "Not since..." She doesn't finish her sentence but she doesn't need to, the unsaid words hanging heavy in the air. //Not since you inexplicably went missing ten years ago.// You feel tears prick at your eyes and you quickly blink them away. You didn't think you could feel worse in the light of everything else but it seems you were wrong. You understand why Callie wouldn't want to celebrate today of all days; Kelsey informed you during her interrogation that it was the anniversary of your disappearance (which only seemed to aid her suspicion), but that doesn't make it hurt any less. All you've ever wanted is for your sibling to be happy and all you //have// done is make them feel the opposite. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">And the more you think about it, that doesn\'t just apply to Callie</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm sorry, mom," you say quietly, your voice cracking ever so slightly and her face softens as she looks at you. You've broken your promise to Callie by apologising again but you don't care. You need to say it, even if it's wrong, even if it makes no difference. Because if you don't, you have no idea how to start fixing things. <<if $nickname is true>>"You have nothing to apologise for, $name2," she says, her words entirely more gentle than your siblings. She walks around the counter, abandoning the cup of coffee to pull you into her arms. "You've done nothing wrong."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>"You have nothing to apologise for, $name," she says, her words entirely more gentle than your siblings. She walks around the counter, abandoning the cup of coffee to pull you into her arms. "You've done nothing wrong."<</if>> "It doesn't feel that way," you mumble, burying your face in her shirt. She holds you close, her embrace warm and comforting, and you hope she never lets you go. Here, you're safe; no one can hurt you when she's with you. Here, you're home. <<if $height is "very short">>"Everything will be okay," she promises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Now that you're home, it'll be easier." She pulls back from you slightly and you crane your neck to look up at her. She gives you a warm smile as she takes your face in her hands, wiping away a stray tear off your cheek with a swipe of her thumb. Up close, you finally notice the wrinkles that line her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the slight greying in the roots of her hair. But she's still your mom and she's still as beautiful as you always thought she was. No amount of time can change that.<</if>><<if $height is "short">>"Everything will be okay," she promises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Now that you're home, it'll be easier." She pulls back from you slightly and you look up at her. She gives you a warm smile as she takes your face in her hands, wiping away a stray tear off your cheek with a swipe of her thumb. Up close, you finally notice the wrinkles that line her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the slight greying in the roots of her hair. But she's still your mom and she's still as beautiful as you always thought she was. No amount of time can change that.<</if>><<if $height is "average">>"Everything will be okay," she promises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Now that you're home, it'll be easier." She pulls back from you slightly and you look at her. She gives you a warm smile as she takes your face in her hands, wiping away a stray tear off your cheek with a swipe of her thumb. Up close, you finally notice the wrinkles that line her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the slight greying in the roots of her hair. But she's still your mom and she's still as beautiful as you always thought she was. No amount of time can change that.<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>"Everything will be okay," she promises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Now that you're home, it'll be easier." She pulls back from you slightly and you look down at her. She gives you a warm smile as she takes your face in her hands, wiping away a stray tear off your cheek with a swipe of her thumb. Up close, you finally notice the wrinkles that line her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the slight greying in the roots of her hair. But she's still your mom and she's still as beautiful as you always thought she was. No amount of time can change that.<</if>><<if $height is "very tall">>"Everything will be okay," she promises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Now that you're home, it'll be easier." She pulls back from you slightly and you look down at her. She gives you a warm smile as she takes your face in her hands, wiping away a stray tear off your cheek with a swipe of her thumb. Up close, you finally notice the wrinkles that line her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the slight greying in the roots of her hair. But she's still your mom and she's still as beautiful as you always thought she was. No amount of time can change that.<</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Promise?"⚡</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1-2'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wish I knew how to make things better."⚡</div>' 'callie talk 3-9-1-3'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She nods, her face earnest. "Promise," she swears. "You wanna know how I know?" You nod and her smile widens. "Because I'm your mom and I'm always right. Even when I'm wrong, I'm right." A smile breaks out on your face and you laugh. "That doesn't make sense, mom," you say, sniffling slightly. She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe not but it made you smile." She lets go of your face then, lifting her hand to card her fingers through your hair as her eyes scan over your face. "I can see you're tired... let me make you some tea before you go to bed." You nod again, accepting the fact that you're going to get tea whether you want it or not and let her step away from you to put the kettle back on the stove. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

A part of you still doesn't want to believe that it's all true and you hang onto the hope that it isn't as if your life depends on it. Perhaps if you tell yourself that none of this is real enough times then it'll become real. But the frown that your mother sends you makes you have your doubts. "You're home," she says again, emphasising each word. "That's enough for me." "It doesn't feel like it." You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet your mother's $eye eyes. "You say that it's enough for me to just be here and that you're happy... but every time you look at me, I can see your heart breaking. Over and over again." <<if $nickname is true>>She takes a deep breath, glancing away. "You're my baby, $name," she says softly, almost as if you're not meant to hear. "I love you so, //so// much; you know that. But I thought I'd lost you and I was so convinced that I'd never see you again." She looks up at you again, her tears now flowing freely. "Part of me thinks this is just all a dream... and that when I wake up, you'll be gone again." She pauses to take another deep breath and your heart shatters at the pained expression on her face. "I can't lose you again, $name2."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>She takes a deep breath, glancing away. "You're my baby, $name," she says softly, almost as if you're not meant to hear. "I love you so, //so// much; you know that. But I thought I'd lost you and I was so convinced that I'd never see you again." She looks up at you again, her tears now flowing freely. "Part of me thinks this is just all a dream... and that when I wake up, you'll be gone again." She pauses to take another deep breath and your heart shatters at the pained expression on her face. "I can't lose you again, $name."<</if>> You can't stand to watch her cry and so you hug her once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you hold her just as tight as she holds you. "You're not going to lose me," you promise after a moment of silence, pulling back to hold her face just as she did you in your hands as you wipe her tears away. "You can't get rid of me," you go on, flashing her a smile. "I'm a like rash. In your house... eating your food." The corners of her eyes crinkle as she chuckles softly and she raises her hands to cover yours. "//Our// house," she says, correcting you. "Just because you moved out doesn't mean this isn't your home anymore." You grin at her. "I'm pretty sure that's exactly what it means, mom." She rolls her eyes at you though her smile remains. "Maybe so but it made you smile." She drops her hands, as do you, though her $eye eyes scan over your analytically. "I can see you're tired... let me make you some tea before you go to bed." You nod again, accepting the fact that you're going to get tea whether you want it or not and let her step away from you to put the kettle back on the stove. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

A yawn pulls at your jaw as you make your way out the kitchen, mug of tea in hand. You up the stairs once more and head for your childhood bedroom, glancing momentarily at Callie's door with a tired smile on your face. Inside, you walk through the room in the dark before flicking on the bedside lamp. Nothing's changed, despite the amount of time that's passed. Though that doesn't surprise you. Your posters still adorn the walls, your books still line the shelves, your pinboard is still decorated with photos and momentos from your highschool days. It's strange; this room used to be your sanctuary, a safe place to escape to when the world became too much to bear, but now... now it just feels weird. A feeling you've been getting more and more the longer the day draws on. Weird and empty and cold and lonely. You suppose this is how everyone around you felt too. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamp light as you sip your tea. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. You don't understand how someone can feel so alone, so out of place, even when surrounded by people. You shake your head softly; you shouldn't dwell on dark thoughts. You're too tired to continue thinking anyway. Standing up, you set the mug on your side table and strip down to your underwear before climbing under the covers. You forget to turn off the light but it makes no difference. The second your head hits the pillow, sleep has you in it's clutches and you find yourself drifting off. It doesn't take you very long to succimb to unconsciouness either. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and you figure your mom must've come in last night and turned it off for you. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. The house is quiet and you figure that everyone else is still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that prove to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The colour hasn't changed either; matching that of your father's: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">but long since dyed</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Though it remains untouched, you know that the way you style your hair remains as it always has: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">as it is naturally</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "naturally">><</link>></center> <<if $short_hair is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in a ponytail</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "tied up">><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in plaits</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "plaited">><</link>></center> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in braids</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in braids">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in cornrows</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in cornrows">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in locs</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in locs">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in twists</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in twists">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in an afro</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-6'>><<set $hair_style to "in an afro">><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-4'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking at your face and body; your skin is as you remember it to be, the colour of: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You straighten your back as you take in every detail of your body: <<nobr>><center>''(You may choose as many or as few skin details as you want)''</center> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $freckles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">freckles</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $freckles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $dimples is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dimples</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $dimples to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $acne is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">acne</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $acne to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $eye_circles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark eye circles</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><<set $eye_circles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tattoos</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">piercings</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-9'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sleeve_tattoos is false>><<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full sleeves</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full body tattoos</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $body_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $orchid_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An orchid drawn by Nora</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $orchid_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lavender_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lavender flower drawn by Callie</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $lavender_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $rose_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A rose drawn by Kennedy</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $rose_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $gralex_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A realistic portrait of your cat, Gralex</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $gralex_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lion_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lion eating a grapefruit</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $lion_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $mountain_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A mountain range</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $mountain_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $chinese_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A Chinese character, which you thought meant strength....but then was told it meant \'bucket\' only after you got it</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $chinese_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An illustration of the sun and moon</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $quote_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The quote \'C\est La Vie\' written in Grayson\'s handwriting</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $quote_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $number_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Alex\'s number, 10</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $number_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $wings_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Angel wings</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-8'>><<set $wings_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sceptum_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A sceptum piercing</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-9'>><<set $sceptum_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $lip_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lip piercing</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-9'>><<set $lip_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $tongue_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A tongue piercing</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-9'>><<set $tongue_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $industrial_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An industrial piercing</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-9'>><<set $industrial_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $helix_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A helix piercing</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-9'>><<set $helix_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time you're done assessing your reflection. You like to imagine that you know your appearance pretty well and as far as you can tell; you look the exact same as you did the last time you looked in a mirror. How is it possible to lose so much time without having anything to show for it? You turn away from the mirror, disgruntled and unsatisfied with your findings, you strip out of your clothes and step beneath the steady stream of water. It's way too hot, your skin stinging from the heat, but you find that you need the extreme. You crave it. Anything to keep your mind off the situation you find yourself in. And it works; pain, of any kind, demands full attention. It will not be overlooked. You give it what it wants. You take your time, treating the act of getting clean with extreme care. It's delicate work that not only distracts you but has a wave of calm washing over you. In this small, secluded space, surrounded by soaps and pale green tiles, you're not you; not a missing person, not the cause of suspicion or heartbreak. Not $name $lastname. You're just a person getting clean and taking a much needed break. By the time you shut off the water and step onto the bathmat, the sun has fully risen. You don't know how much of the day you've already lost - you guess about an hour, perhaps slightly more - but you feel refreshed, like a new person and that's what gives you the courage to face what lies ahead. You dry yourself off with the hand towel (having forgotten to bring one in yourself) and get dressed in your clothes from the day before. You turn back to the mirror, eyeing your reflection with mistrust, before heaving a sigh and leaving the bathroom, residual steam pouring out behind you. You can hear the TV playing downstairs and you let your feet take you down the passage, down the stairs; the sound growing louder with each step. You can only guess that everyone else is awake by now, though you have your doubts about Callie. They never were a morning person; you distinctly remember having to drag them out of bed for school on multiple occasions. You can't say they were ever happy with you when you did. You catch a glimpse of your mom in the kitchen as you pass by, next finding Grayson and Callie in the living room. They seemed to have resumed their seats from the night before; him on the loveseat, them on the couch. Like you, Grayson wears his clothes from yesterday, though his shirt is wrinkled and his jeans are unbuttoned as if he pulled them on in a rush, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Callie looks just as dishevelled; though they wear what can loosely be described as pyjamas - a black sports bra and a pair of oversized basketball shorts - their own hair is just as bedraggled and their eyeliner is smudged around their eyes, some of it smudged across their cheeks too. You realize they're watching the news. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-11'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Callie</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-12'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He glances up at you as you approach, a smile unfolding on his face, before he clears his throat and quickly looks away, his cheeks twinged ever so slightly in red. He moves over on the loveseat, giving you the space to sit next to him though he doesn't look at you again, instead focussing his attention on the TV screen. You're about to ask what they're watching when you stop yourself. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They don't look up at you as you approach, $eye eyes trained on the TV, nor do they look away when you sit down next to them. However, they shuffle closer to you, stretching their legs across your lap and resting their head on your shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you snake your arm around their back and give them a squeeze, which they return with a soft nudge of their elbow to your ribs. You're about to ask what they're watching when they shush preemptively, though your unasked question is quickly answered nevertheless. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname appears on the doorstep of their childhood home." Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pull Callie's door shut behind you and make your way down the passage to the staircase, the carpet muffling your footsteps. You feel better after talking to them, lighter almost as if by just being in your sibling's presence, an invisible weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You're still incredibly tired and your stomach is still a knotted mess of emotions but you find it a bit easier to smile. You take the stairs two at a time and as you step off the staircase, you immediately turn in the direction of the living room. You find Grayson exactly where you left him, only now he's nursing a mug of what you assume is tea. You never knew him to be a fan of coffee but like Callie, that might've changed as well. He looks up at you as you enter. "I just wanted to say goodnight," you say and he nods, his eyes returning to his hands. Your own fingers twitch, longing to touch him in some way or other. You'd always been affectionate friends and to have that taken away from you in the blink of an eye - in the blink of your own eyes - is jarring, to say the least. Time has brought with it new boundaries, a distance between you, a line you're not sure is wise to cross. Callie was right; it //is// bullshit. Every last thing. <<if $nickname is true>>"Goodnight, $name2."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>"Goodnight, $name."<</if>> You're about to leave when you stop yourself, looking at him over your shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. "Where are you gonna sleep?" You know Grayson well, like the palm of your hand, and whatever time you may or may not have lost hasn't changed that. He's not going home, not tonight, not so long as you're here. And from the way he sits on the loveseat, arms crossed over his broad chest, you get the sense that sleeping here, in your childhood home, has become a common thing for him. As if to torture himself further. He clears his throat, blue eyes flicking to the couch and distinctly avoiding you. "Um, down here," he says. "I'll get some blankets from the linen cupboard." Your eyebrows furrow further, a frown taking shape on your lips. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you sure?"</div>' 'callie talk sleep alone'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don\'t be ridiculous, Gray; you can sleep in my room."</div>' 'callie talk grayson sleepover'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He looks back down at the couch and hesitates as if debating his answer. "Yeah, I'm sure." He says, giving you a tight-lipped smile. It's clear to you that he's not, not with his hesitation but you don't want to push him. And as much as you to insist that he follows you, you don't do that either. Maybe it's better this way; some alone time could be good for you. After all, you don't know when that will be afforded to you again. You nod then, swallowing all the things you want to say and all the things you probably should say. "Goodnight, Gray," you say and he echoes your sentiment. Without another glance back, you make your way out of the living room, down the passage and up the stairs. You reach the second-floor landing and make for your childhood bedroom, glancing towards Callie's door momentarily before going inside, a sigh leaving your lips. You walk through the room in the dark before flicking on the bedside lamp. Nothing's changed, despite the amount of time that's passed. Though that doesn't surprise you. Your posters still adorn the walls, your books still line the shelves, your pinboard is still decorated with photos and mementos from your high school days. It's strange; this room used to be your sanctuary, a safe place to escape to when the world became too much to bear, but now... now it just feels weird. A feeling you've been getting more and more the longer the day draws on. Weird and empty and cold and lonely. You suppose this is how everyone around you felt too. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamplight. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. You don't understand how someone can feel so alone, so out of place, even when surrounded by people. You shake your head softly; you shouldn't dwell on dark thoughts. You're too tired to continue thinking anyway. Standing up, you strip down to your underwear and climb under the covers. You forget to turn off the light but it makes no difference. The second your head hits the pillow, sleep has you in its clutches and you find yourself drifting off. It doesn't take you very long to succumb to unconsciousness either. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'callie talk sleep alone 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Wouldn't be the first time," you add and when he eventually brings his eyes up to yours, you give him a smile. "Come on, you know you want to." "I don't know, $name-" "You're gonna tell me you'd prefer the couch over bunking with me?" You stare at him for a moment before the smallest of smiles breaks out on his face. "Fine," he says. "Only because I know you won't let it go if I say otherwise." He clambers to his feet and after failing to do so earlier, you take the time to admire just how much bigger he really is as he stretches. He's not exactly taller; he peaked at a final six foot one in grade ten, but there's simply no other way to describe it. He's too big for this room, taking up too much space for one person, but he looks at ease, as if this is the place he feels most comfortable. You suppose you can't blame him for that. "I'll meet you up there," he says as he follows you out the living room, though as you head for the stairs, he makes his way down the passage, presumably to talk to your mother. You wonder briefly what he might have to say to her but decide not to think about it too much. It's probably for the best that you don't know anyway. You reach the top of the stairs and make for your old bedroom, glancing towards Callie's door momentarily before going inside, a tired smile gracing your lips. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You walk through the room in the dark before flicking on the bedside lamp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sleepover 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Nothing's changed, despite the amount of time that's passed. Though that doesn't surprise you. Your posters still adorn the walls, your books still line the shelves, your pinboard is still decorated with photos and momentos from your highschool days. It's strange; this room used to be your sanctuary, a safe place to escape to when the world became too much to bear, but now... now it just feels weird. A feeling you've been getting more and more the longer the day draws on. Weird and empty and cold and lonely. You suppose this is how everyone around you felt too. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamp light. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. You don't understand how someone can feel so alone, so out of place, even when surrounded by people. Grayson appears then, knocking on the door as he enters, inflatable mattress and blanket in hand. You furrow your eyebrows at him as you lean back on your arms, your mind moving away from your depressing thoughts in favour of your best friend. "C'mon, Gray," you say. "First the couch, now this? I really don't mind sharing, I promise." He doesn't respond at first, offering you a shrug as he sets the box down in front of your cupboard. "I didn't want to assume," he says softly. His voice, normally warm and affectionate, sounds hollow somehow, like he's saying the words without meaning them. You don't want to argue, don't want to force him to do anything he doesn't want to do. You lift your shoulders in a shrug of your own, smiling more to yourself than him as you kick off your shoes and throw yourself over bed, spreading your limbs out in a starfish position. "Suit yourself, Gronk. That just means more space for me, myself and I." He chuckles then and it's a good sound to hear after the melancholy of the day. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine," he says, rolling his eyes dramatically as he kicks off his boots. "Move over."❤️</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle'>><<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 20, 0, 100), $gray_friendship to Math.clamp($gray_friendship - 20, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">He doubles over in a bow. "Enjoy, my liege."</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You do as asked and he climbs onto the bed beside you, finding yourself laying face to face with him. Despite there being ample space in your double bed, he does his best to make himself as small as possible; which, obviously, doesn't exactly work out as he planned, given his size. Laughing quietly to yourself, you shuffle even closer to him and curl into his chest. The silence settles over the two of you like a blanket, comfortable and warm, but you can't help catching sight of the conflicting emotions flashing his face. You open your mouth, a question of 'what's wrong?' ready to roll off your tongue, when he moves, his actions halting you in your tracks. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight against him. //"I've missed you so fucking much."// His words are mumbled into your shoulder but you don't miss a thing he says. And if it'll keep the tears out of his eyes and the crack out of his voice, you won't ever again. "I missed you too," you say. You know that the length of time between when you last saw each other differs between the two of you, but it doesn't matter. Every second you spend away from him is a second too long. Perhaps that makes you crazy or obsessed or dependent on him - perhaps all three - you don't care. You'd never broach the topice with him but you get the feeling that Grayson feels that way too. No more words are spoken on the matter. His arms remain closed around you, your face pressed against his chest. The soft wool of his sweater cushions your cheek and his cologne washes over you, filling and intoxicating your senses, leaving you wanting more. It's not a scent you're familiar with but you think that it matches him perfectly; rich and earthy, a smell of trees and nature and freedom. It comforts and relaxes you, and you (semi-unconsciously) snuggle even closer to him. You're both still fully dressed and the light's still on but you're too far gone to do anything about either of those, and it's not long before you find yourself drifting off to sleep. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You laugh as you roll over onto your side and watch as he kneels on the floor, unboxing the mattress. His blue eyes flick up towards you and small smile unfolds on his face. "Just gonna lay there and watch me, huh?" He asks, unfolding the mattress on the expanse on your bedroom floor. You purse your lips at him. "It's self inflating," you reply. "There's not much else for me to do here." He shakes his head, his smile growing slightly as the mattress begins to inflate. //"Zboczeniec,"// he says softly to himself though still loud enough for you to hear. You narrow your eyes at him. "I don't know what that means but I don't like the sound of it." "It means 'my wonderful best friend'." "Liar!" You grab a pillow and throw it at him, though he easily catches it. Laughing, he stands up and clutches the pillow to his chest. "This is mine now," he says before dropping it down on the mattress, which is almost fully inflated. He then gestures to your clothes. "Do you plan on sleeping in that?" You shrug as you sit up, crossing you legs beneath you. "Don't exactly have anything else," you say. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Before you can continue, you get hit in the face by his balled up sweater.</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the warmth that rolls off Grayson's body and his arms that still encompass you, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and a thin, fluffy blanket is draped over the two of you; you figure your mom had come in last night and done both for you. A pang of regret shoots through you that you didn't talk to her before going to bed - as well as a twinge of embarrassment at being caught with Gray like this - but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. You extricate yourself from Grayson as carefully as you can, not wanting to wake him up. Though your precautions are unnecessary - you'd briefly forgotten his ability to sleep like the dead - and you end up climbing over him, stretching your stiff limbs and biting back a curse as the cold morning air hits you full force. The house is quiet and you figure that your mom and Callie are both still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you shuffle out of your room and make your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The colour hasn't changed either; matching that of your father's: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">but long since dyed</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Though it remains untouched, you know that the way you style your hair remains as it always has: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">as it is naturally</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "naturally">><</link>></center> <<if $short_hair is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in a ponytail</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "tied up">><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in plaits</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "plaited">><</link>></center> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in braids</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "in braids">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in cornrows</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "in cornrows">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in locs</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "in locs">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in twists</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "in twists">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in an afro</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 5'>><<set $hair_style to "in an afro">><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 3'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking at your face and body; your skin is as you remember it to be, the colour of: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You straighten your back as you take in every detail of your body: <<nobr>><center>''(You may choose as many or as few skin details as you want)''</center> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $freckles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">freckles</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $freckles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $dimples is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dimples</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $dimples to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $acne is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">acne</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $acne to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $eye_circles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark eye circles</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $eye_circles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $top_scars is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">top surgery scars</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $top_scars to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tattoos</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">piercings</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 8'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sleeve_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full sleeves</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full body tattoos</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $orchid_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An orchid drawn by Nora</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $orchid_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lavender_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lavender flower drawn by Callie</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $lavender_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $rose_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A rose drawn by Kennedy</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $rose_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $gralex_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A realistic portrait of your cat, Gralex</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $gralex_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lion_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lion eating a grapefruit</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $lion_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $mountain_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A mountain range</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $mountain_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $chinese_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"> A Chinese character, which you thought meant strength....but then was told it meant \'bucket\' only after you got it </div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $chinese_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An illustration of the sun and moon</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $quote_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The quote \'C\'est La Vie\' written in Grayson\'s handwriting</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $quote_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $number_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Alex\'s number, 10</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $number_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $wings_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Angel wings</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 7'>><<set $wings_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sceptum_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A sceptum piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 8'>><<set $sceptum_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $lip_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lip piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 8'>><<set $lip_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $tongue_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A tongue piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 8'>><<set $tongue_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $industrial_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An industrial piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 8'>><<set $industrial_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $helix_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A helix piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 8'>><<set $helix_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time you're done assessing your reflection. You like to imagine that you know your appearance pretty well and as far as you can tell; you look the exact same as you did the last time you looked in a mirror. How is it possible to lose so much time without having anything to show for it? You turn away from the mirror, disgruntled and unsatisfied with your findings, you strip out of your clothes and step beneath the steady stream of water. It's way too hot, your skin stinging from the heat, but you find that you need the extreme. You crave it. Anything to keep your mind off the situation you find yourself in. And it works; pain, of any kind, demands full attention. It will not be overlooked. You give it what it wants. You take your time, treating the act of getting clean with extreme care. It's delicate work that not only distracts you but has a wave of calm washing over you. In this small, secluded space, surrounded by soaps and pale green tiles, you're not you; not a missing person, not the cause of suspicion or heartbreak. Not $name $lastname. You're just a person getting clean and taking a much needed break. By the time you shut off the water and step onto the bathmat, the sun has fully risen. You don't know how much of the day you've already lost - you guess about an hour, perhaps slightly more - but you feel refreshed, like a new person and that's what gives you the courage to face what lies ahead. You dry yourself off with the hand towel (having forgotten to bring one in yourself) and get dressed in your clothes from the day before. You turn back to the mirror, eyeing your reflection with mistrust, before heaving a sigh and leaving the bathroom, residual steam pouring out behind you. Your bedroom is empty when you return, though you know Grayson wouldn't have gone far. Not without you. You can hear the TV playing downstairs and you make the guess that your mom and Callie are now awake too, though you have your doubts about your sibling. They never were a morning person; you distinctly remember having to drag them out of bed for school on multiple occasions. You can't say they were ever happy with you when you did. You let your feet take you down the passage and down the staircase, the sound growing louder with each step. You catch a glimpse of your mom in the kitchen as you pass by, next finding Grayson and Callie in the living room. They seemed to have resumed their seats from the night before; him on the loveseat, them on the couch. Like you, Grayson wears his clothes from yesterday, though his shirt is wrinkled and his jeans are unbuttoned as if he pulled them on in a rush, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Callie looks just as dishevelled; though they wear what can loosely be described as pyjamas - a black sports bra and a pair of oversized basketball shorts - their own hair is just as bedraggled and their eyeliner is smudged around their eyes, some of it smudged across their cheeks too. You realize they're watching the news. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 10'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Callie</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 11'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He glances up at you as you approach, a smile unfolding on his face, before he clears his throat and quickly looks away, his blue eyes slightly wide in embarrassment. He moves over on the loveseat and as you sit down next to him, you're all too aware of your thigh pressed against his. You can still feel the heat radiating off of him, like some contagion, though it's not as strong as it was the night before. No, you'd need to be embraced in his arms to feel the full effect of his body's warmth and you have no idea when that'll be again. In light of this thought, you shift yourself even closer to him and the sharp intake of his breath is somewhat satisfying, realizing that you have some kind of effect on him. He doesn't look at you again, instead focussing his attention on the TV screen. You're about to ask what they're watching when you stop yourself. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They don't look up at you as you approach, $eye eyes trained on the TV, nor do they look away when you sit down next to them. However, they shuffle closer to you, stretching their legs across your lap and resting their head on your shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you snake your arm around their back and give them a squeeze, which they return with a soft nudge of their elbow to your ribs. You're about to ask what they're watching when they shush preemptively, though your unasked question is quickly answered nevertheless. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname appears on the doorstep of their childhood home." Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pull the article of clothing off your head just in time to see him toss his jeans in the corner of the room. Now standing in his shirt, boxers and socks, he lays down on the mattress, stretching across the length of it, his feet and most of his calves hanging off the end. He folds his hands under his head, making use of the pillow you threw at him. "Use that," he says, nodding towards the sweater in your hands. "Or don't. But it'll probably be a lot more comfortable." "Oh, my hero." You press the back of your hand against your forehead as you look up toward the ceiling. "Whatever would I do without you?" "Give it back then." "No way," you say, clutching the sweater to your chest as you climb off the bed and he shakes his head at you in amusement. "Look away," you add and he dutifully slaps a hand over his eyes. Chuckling quietly to yourself, you strip out of your clothes and slip on his sweater before climbing under the covers. Hearing the shuffle of sheets, he removes his hand, glancing at you briefly before reaching for the blanket he brought with him. You wait for him to get settled before flicking off the lamp. The silence settles over you and it stays that way for a long time. You start to think that he's fallen asleep when he speaks. "I'm really glad you're home, $name," he says softly, almost more to himself than to you. "I missed you so, //so// much." You're not sure what to say in response. You don't think there is anything //to// say. It's all too confusing; the length of time between when you last saw each other differs between the two of you. A couple of hours is laughable in comparison to ten years. That's not really something you can overlook. You roll over to face the wall and say the only thing you can think of. "Goodnight, Gray." He doesn't respond immediately and for a moment you think he never will, but he does eventually. Just as you're beginning to drift off, you hear it; the words more distant and sad than you think they should be. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Goodnight, $name."</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Morning comes too soon. You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and when you glance over your shoulder at the bedside table, two mugs of what is now cold tea sitting on the edge, you figure your mom had come in last night and turned it off for you. A pang of regret shoots through you that you didn't talk to her before going to bed but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. Grayson is still asleep; curled in on himself with the blankets pulled almost over his eyes, you'd briefly forgotten his ability to sleep like the dead. The rest house is quiet and you figure that your mom and Callie are both still fast asleep as well. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom as silently as you can, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The colour hasn't changed either; matching that of your father's: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">but long since dyed</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Though it remains untouched, you know that the way you style your hair remains as it always has: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">as it is naturally</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "naturally">><</link>></center> <<if $short_hair is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in a ponytail</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "tied up">><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in plaits</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "plaited">><</link>></center> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in braids</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "in braids">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in cornrows</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "in cornrows">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in locs</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "in locs">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in twists</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "in twists">><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $hair_texture is "coily">><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">in an afro</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 6'>><<set $hair_style to "in an afro">><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 4'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking at your face and body; your skin is as you remember it to be, the colour of: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You straighten your back as you take in every detail of your body: <<nobr>><center>''(You may choose as many or as few skin details as you want)''</center> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $freckles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">freckles</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><<set $freckles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $dimples is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dimples</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $dimples to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $acne is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">acne</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $acne to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $eye_circles is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark eye circles</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><<set $eye_circles to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $top_scars is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">top surgery scars</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 6'>><<set $top_scars to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">tattoos</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">piercings</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 9'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sleeve_tattoos is false>><<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full sleeves</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Full body tattoos</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $sleeve_tattoos to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $orchid_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An orchid drawn by Nora</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $orchid_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lavender_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lavender flower drawn by Callie</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $lavender_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $rose_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A rose drawn by Kennedy</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $rose_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $gralex_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A realistic portrait of your cat, Gralex</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $gralex_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $lion_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lion eating a grapefruit</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $lion_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $mountain_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A mountain range</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $mountain_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $chinese_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A Chinese character, which you thought meant strength....but then was told it meant \'bucket\' only after you got it</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $chinese_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $sunmoon_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An illustration of the sun and moon</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $sunmoon_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $quote_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The quote \'C\'est La Vie\' written in Grayson\'s handwriting</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $quote_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $number_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Alex\'s number, 10</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $number_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <<if $body_tattoos is false>><<if $wings_tattoo is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Angel wings</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 8'>><<set $wings_tattoo to true>><</link>></center><</if>><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish</div>' 'grayson sweater 3-8-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sceptum_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A sceptum piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 9'>><<set $sceptum_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $lip_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lip piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 9'>><<set $lip_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $tongue_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A tongue piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 9'>><<set $tongue_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $industrial_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">An industrial piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 9'>><<set $industrial_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $helix_piercing is false>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A helix piercing</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 9'>><<set $helix_piercing to true>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">finish</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The bathroom has filled with steam by the time you're done assessing your reflection. You like to imagine that you know your appearance pretty well and as far as you can tell; you look the exact same as you did the last time you looked in a mirror. How is it possible to lose so much time without having anything to show for it? You turn away from the mirror, disgruntled and unsatisfied with your findings, you strip out of your clothes and step beneath the steady stream of water. It's way too hot, your skin stinging from the heat, but you find that you need the extreme. You crave it. Anything to keep your mind off the situation you find yourself in. And it works; pain, of any kind, demands full attention. It will not be overlooked. You give it what it wants. You take your time, treating the act of getting clean with extreme care. It's delicate work that not only distracts you but has a wave of calm washing over you. In this small, secluded space, surrounded by soaps and pale green tiles, you're not you; not a missing person, not the cause of suspicion or heartbreak. Not $name $lastname. You're just a person getting clean and taking a much needed break. By the time you shut off the water and step onto the bathmat, the sun has fully risen. You don't know how much of the day you've already lost - you guess about an hour, perhaps slightly more - but you feel refreshed, like a new person and that's what gives you the courage to face what lies ahead. You dry yourself off with the hand towel (having forgotten to bring one in yourself) and get dressed in your clothes from the day before, Gray's sweater on top. You turn back to the mirror, eyeing your reflection with mistrust, before heaving a sigh and leaving the bathroom, residual steam pouring out behind you. Your bedroom is empty when you return, though you know Grayson wouldn't have gone far. Not without you. You can hear the TV playing downstairs and you make the guess that your mom and Callie are now awake too, though you have your doubts about your sibling. They never were a morning person; you distinctly remember having to drag them out of bed for school on multiple occasions. You can't say they were ever happy with you when you did. You let your feet take you down the passage and down the staircase, the sound growing louder with each step. You catch a glimpse of your mom in the kitchen as you pass by, next finding Grayson and Callie in the living room. They seemed to have resumed their seats from the night before; him on the loveseat, them on the couch. Like you, Grayson wears his clothes from yesterday, though his shirt is wrinkled and his jeans are unbuttoned as if he pulled them on in a rush, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Callie looks just as dishevelled; though they wear what can loosely be described as pyjamas - a black sports bra and a pair of oversized basketball shorts - their own hair is just as bedraggled and their eyeliner is smudged around their eyes, some of it smudged across their cheeks too. You realize they're watching the news. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Grayson</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 11'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit next to Callie</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 12'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He glances up at you as you approach, his eyes fixated on his sweater and how it hangs down to your thighs before he quickly looks away from you, his cheeks twinged ever so slightly in red. He moves over on the loveseat, giving you the space to sit next to him though he doesn't look at you again, instead focussing his attention on the TV screen. You're about to ask what they're watching when you stop yourself. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They don't look up at you as you approach, $eye eyes trained on the TV, nor do they look away when you sit down next to them. However, they shuffle closer to you, stretching their legs across your lap and resting their head on your shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you snake your arm around their back and give them a squeeze, which they return with a soft nudge of their elbow to your ribs. You're about to ask what they're watching when they shush preemptively, though your unasked question is quickly answered nevertheless. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname appears on the doorstep of their childhood home." Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and when you glance over your shoulder at the bedside table, a mug of what is now cold tea sitting on the edge, you figure your mom had come in last night and turned it off for you. A pang of regret shoots through you that you didn't talk to her before going to bed but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. The house is quiet and you figure that everyone else is still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She nods, her face earnest. "Promise," she swears. "You wanna know how I know?" You nod and her smile widens. "Because I'm your mom and I'm always right. Even when I'm wrong, I'm right." A smile breaks out on your face and you laugh. "That doesn't make sense, mom," you say, sniffling slightly. She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe not but it made you smile." You look down then at the cup in front of her, the one she stirs continuously. "Is that for Cal?" She nods. "I offered to make tea but tea is apparently for the weak," she chuckles, looking down at the cup fondly. "I was going to take it up to them, I just needed a moment to think." You don't ask about what, you're pretty sure you can guess as much, so you only nod. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can take it to them." (Talk to Callie)</div>' 'nora callie talk'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Will you tell them I\'m sorry about earlier?" (Talk to Grayson)</div>' 'nora talk 3-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

A part of you still doesn't want to believe that it's all true and you hang onto the hope that it isn't as if your life depends on it. Perhaps if you tell yourself that none of this is real enough times then it'll become real. But the frown that your mother sends you makes you have your doubts. "You're home," she says again, emphasising each word. "That's enough for me." "It doesn't feel like it." You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet your mother's $eye eyes. "You say that it's enough for me to just be here and that you're happy... but every time you look at me, I can see your heart breaking. Over and over again." <<if $nickname is true>>She takes a deep breath, glancing away. "You're my baby, $name," she says softly, almost as if you're not meant to hear. "I love you so, //so// much; you know that. But I thought I'd lost you and I was so convinced that I'd never see you again." She looks up at you again, her tears now flowing freely. "Part of me thinks this is just all a dream... and that when I wake up, you'll be gone again." She pauses to take another deep breath and your heart shatters at the pained expression on her face. "I can't lose you again, $name2."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>She takes a deep breath, glancing away. "You're my baby, $name," she says softly, almost as if you're not meant to hear. "I love you so, //so// much; you know that. But I thought I'd lost you and I was so convinced that I'd never see you again." She looks up at you again, her tears now flowing freely. "Part of me thinks this is just all a dream... and that when I wake up, you'll be gone again." She pauses to take another deep breath and your heart shatters at the pained expression on her face. "I can't lose you again, $name."<</if>> You can't stand to watch her cry and so you hug her once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you hold her just as tight as she holds you. "You're not going to lose me," you promise after a moment of silence, pulling back to hold her face just as she did you in your hands as you wipe her tears away. "You can't get rid of me," you go on, flashing her a smile. "I'm a like rash. In your house... eating your food." The corners of her eyes crinkle as she chuckles softly and she raises her hands to cover yours. "//Our// house," she says, correcting you. "Just because you moved out doesn't mean this isn't your home anymore." You grin at her. "I'm pretty sure that's exactly what it means, mom." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe so but it made you smile." You look down then at the cup in front of her, the one she stirs continuously. "Is that for Cal?" She nods. "I offered to make tea but tea is apparently for the weak," she chuckles, looking down at the cup fondly. "I was going to take it up to them, I just needed a moment to think." You don't ask about what, you're pretty sure you can guess as much, so you only nod. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can take it to them." (Talk to Callie)</div>' 'nora callie talk'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Will you tell them I\'m sorry about earlier?" (Talk to Grayson)</div>' 'nora talk 3-10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Are you sure?" She asks with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm sure." You reach for the cup. "I don't want them to be mad at me. Strike while the iron's hot and all that." <<if $nickname is true>>Her face softens as she looks at you. "They're not mad at you, $name2," she says. "They're just going through a lot right now."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>Her face softens as she looks at you. "They're not mad at you, $name," she says. "They're just going through a lot right now."<</if>> "Still," you insist. "Couldn't hurt." She nods again and lets you walk out of the kitchen without another word. You allow your feet to move on their own accord as they carry you out the room, down the passage, and up the stairs. Your eyes lock on the door of your childhood bedroom and your body aches for the reprieve that lies behind it but you come to a stop in front of Callie's door. You don't imagine they want to talk to you if their actions downstairs are anything to go by, but that doesn't stop you from knocking. You don't hear a reply from inside but neither does that stop you from entering. You find them sitting on their bed, knees pulled up to their chest as they lean back on a mountain of pillows. They glance up at you briefly before looking away once more, focusing their eyes on an //Insane Clown Posse// poster hanging on the opposite wall. "Hey," you say softly, closing the door behind you. You're not surprised when you don't get a reply but you hold the mug up for them to see anyway "I come with a peace offering." They shift away from you, still avoiding your eyes as you sit down on the bed beside them. "Not much of a peace offering if mom made it," they grumble, though they take the cup from you, humming happily as they take a sip. "Since when do you drink coffee?" You question as you quirk an eyebrow up at them, a slight smile curling at your mouth that falls away when again they don't respond. "Cal, I'm sorry." They huff, quickly rubbing at their $eye eyes and you pretend you don't see the wet streak left behind by a tear on their cheek. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are you apologising?"</div>' 'nora callie talk 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $nickname is true>>"You don't anything to apologize for, $name2" She says with furrowed eyebrows. "They're not mad at you, I promise. They're just going through a lot right now."<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>"You don't anything to apologize for, $name," she says with furrowed eyebrows. "They're not mad at you, I promise. They're just going through a lot right now."<</if>> "Still," you insist. "Couldn't hurt." She nods again, kissing you on the cheek before she walks out the kitchen. You make your way to the living room, expecting to find Grayson exactly where you left him and instead finding the room empty. Frowning, you walk to the window and pull back the curtains; sure enough, his car is still in the driveway so he's still somewhere here. Though, you know deep down that Grayson wouldn't go anywhere without you in tow. You let your feet guide you out the living room, down the passage and back up the stairs to your old bedroom. You have no proof that that is where he'd be, just a feeling in your gut, and when you come to your room, the door ajar, you know you're right. The room is illuminated by the lamp on the bedside table, nothing out of its designated place since you moved out all those years ago. Grayson stands in front of the pinboard hanging on your wall, staring at the photos and mementos you'd decorated it with. You go to stand next to him and your eyes immediately land on a photo of you two together; young, happy and seventeen, in the middle of the ice rink. "I haven't been in here since you've been gone," he says softly and you glance up at him, not sure how to answer. You suppose the signs are there; the still air of the room, the dust covering most, if not every surface. You don't think anyone else has been in here either and for reasons you can't explain, you feel hurt by that. "Why not?" you ask. The answer's obvious, clear as the sky is blue, but you want to hear him say it out loud. Maybe that will make it feel less like a dream. "It was too difficult," he replies, the words too simple as if he was expecting you to ask and had already come to terms with it himself. He takes a deep breath, his blue eyes flicking to another photo before he goes on. "Everything already reminds me of you; coming in here would've just added salt to the wound." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora talk 3-11'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You lift your shoulders in a shrug. "It felt like the right thing to say." You pause as you turn your body to face them, crossing your legs beneath you. "I just don't want us to fight." A heavy sigh leaves their lips and they finally look at you. "We're not fighting," they mutter, looking down into the cup. "It's just... complicated, okay?" "It doesn't have to be." "But it //is//." You don't know what to say in response, but they seem to have you covered in that regard. "I'm not like mom; I couldn't just keep hoping that you'd magically appear. I mean, you've been gone for ten years, $name}... ten years is a really long fucking time to hold out hope that you're still alive. The hope eventually runs out." "But I am alive." You give the smile another try. "Doesn't that count for something?" They tilt their head as they look at you, once again ignoring your question. "Do you really not know anything?" They sigh when you shake your head, staring at you with glossy eyes. When you first walked in, they could barely bring themself to look at you; now it seems that they can't look away. "God, I can't get over it... you still look like you're twenty-two." "I //am// twenty-two, Cal." "And I'm the pope." They shake their head, as if out of everything, //that's// the part that doesn't make sense. They groan loudly and throw their head back against the pillow mountain as they place the mug on the bedside table before reaching for the top drawer. "I need a smoke." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Got enough to share?"</div>' 'nora callie talk 1-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Callie, no!"</div>' 'nora callie talk 2-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They smile at you as they pull a carton of cigarettes from the drawer. "That's right," they say, tapping the box against their knee. "I forgot how much of a chain smoker you were." "Hey, I didn't chain smoke!" They shift on the bed, shooting you a pointed look that has you looking to the floor. "...//for long//." "Whatever," they scoff, climbing off the bed and stretching their shoulders before turning to the window. "You coming to the roof or not?" You follow your sibling as they climb out the window and onto the windowsill, using the apple tree just outside their room to climb onto the roof. A faint smile unfolds on your face as you recall the dozens of times you did this exact thing during high school. Although without a tree conveniently outside your bedroom window, you had to make use of a few poorly executed parkour moves. They sit down with their back pressed to the chimney and you sit beside them. They stick a cigarette between their teeth and light it before handing you both the carton and lighter. Silence builds between the two of you as you light your own cigarette and you sit like that for a moment, eyes on the sky, smoke in your lungs. You rest your arm on your knee as you flick the ash off the cigarette, glancing briefly at Callie. "How long have you been smoking?" "Couple years," they say with a shrug as if they couldn't be bothered to think of the exact date. "The stress was getting to me a bit." You frown, taking another drag. "I'm sorry, Cal." They glance at you before looking back at the house across the street. "Stop apologising," they grumble. They heave a sigh after a moment, sagging against the bricks as they look at you once more. "I'm happy you're home. I mean... I'm really fucking happy you're home." They take a drag, smoke pouring from their mouth before they speak again. "I was so convinced you were dead." You scrunch your face up at them. "Ouch." They roll their eyes, a chuckle leaving their lips that sounds more pained than anything else. "Yeah, well; thinking you were dead was easier than thinking you were somewhere out there, alive and suffering." "I get it." More silence, more drags, more smoke blown into the night air. You tilt your head to the side. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you ever go missing, I hope you die too."⚡</div>' 'nora callie talk 1-3'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"How\s mom been?"⚡</div>' 'nora callie talk 1-4'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They stare at you for a moment, a blank look on their face before they erupt with laughter. You smile at them, flicking your cigarette before you join in. "That's not fucking funny." "And yet, you're //still// laughing." "Because you're an idiot." The laughter stops eventually; it always does. It has to. But their smile remains and you find that that's all that matters. You hate to see them unhappy. They look down at their hands and their cigarette, the red hot embers burning down close to the filter. "It feels good to laugh for a bit." "I imagine it would be." You take your final drag, inhaling deeply and holding your breath for a quick second before blowing out the last of the smoke. It's been years since your last cigarette, having quit a few months after graduating, but right now, in this moment, it feels as if no time has passed at all. And in a sense, it hasn't. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora callie talk 1-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They scoff, a blank look on their face as they stare off into the night. "How do you think?" "Right," you nod, chewing on your bottom lip. "Probably a dumb question." They hum in agreement. "The dumbest." You sigh and lie back on the roof tiles, the cigarette hanging loosely between your lips as your rest your hands on your stomach. "I don't know what else there is to say, Cal," you say in earnest, glancing up at your sibling only to find them already looking at you, a softness in their eyes. "Other than apologising over and over." "I don't think there //is// anything to say," they mumble, shrugging. "But if there is, it certainly isn't 'sorry'." They give you a pointed look and hold up their cigarette for you to see, the burning embers something of a beacon in the dark of night. "If you apologise again, I'm gonna put this out on you." You grin at them and raise your hands in defence. "What's with the threats?" you ask, laughing around the cigarette still stuck between your teeth. "I thought you were happy to have me home." "I can do both," they say with another shrug. You take your final drag, inhaling deeply and holding your breath for a quick second before blowing out the last of the smoke. It's been years since your last cigarette, having quit a few months after graduating, but right now, in this moment, it feels as if no time has passed at all. And in a sense, it hasn't. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora callie talk 1-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're just putting the cigarette out on the roof tiles when Callie's voice pulls you from your thoughts, stubbing out their own smoke. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" You frown at them, hugging your knees to your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now let's go back inside; I'm tired and cold. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora talk sleep alone'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You snatch the carton of cigarettes out of their hand just as they pull it from their drawer. They roll their eyes and lean forward to take it back only for you to pull it out of their reach. "God, when did you become such a narc?" they grumble as they slump back down on their pillows. "It's a really bad habit, Cal," you say. "You could die." "Cry me a river, $name." "One day, you and your perfectly working lungs are gonna thank me." "Maybe I want lung cancer, did you ever think about that?" You give your sibling a flat look. "That's probably the dumbest thing I've ever heard and I'm literally in a study group with a bunch of frat dudes. Do you know how impressive that is?" They roll their eyes but smile despite themself. "Fine, I won't smoke," they say and you return their smile. "When you're around that is." "Why do I even bother with you?" You ask, shaking your head. Callie doesn't respond but they continue to smile at you, their expression seeming more genuine than before. "What? Why are you smiling at me like that?" "I'm happy you're not dead in some psycho's basement." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora callie talk 2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Thank you?" You scrunch your face up, laughing in time with your sibling. "You know, the love just radiates off you, Cal." They nudge you in the side with their elbow, suddenly shy as they focus on their duvet, pulling on a loose thread. "I mean it; I'm really glad you're home." They glance up at you, the corner of their eyes crinkling as they smile again. "You're very difficult to live without." You grin at them. "You too." They collapse back on the mountain of pillows and fix you with a suddenly serious expression. "Now I'm not saying suicide was an option but I was pretty close to turning to alcoholism." "Lung cancer isn't enough for you, you want liver failure too?" They lift their shoulders in a shrug. "If I had to choose between that and living the rest of my life without you, yeah." The room descends in silence and for a moment the two of you just sit together. It's comfortable, familiar; they had always been your rock, a constant presence in your life that you could turn to whenever you need them, even more so than Grayson. And as difficult as today has been for you, you imagine it's only been worse for them. You nudge their leg and they look at you for a moment before moving over, giving you space to stretch out on the bed next to them. You lay side by side, arms pressed against each other and you turn your head to look at them. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If I had to live without you, I\'d probably turn to meth."⚡</div>' 'nora callie talk 2-3'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"How\'s mom been?\"⚡</div>' 'nora callie talk 2-4'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They turn their gaze away from the ceiling to you and they raise their hand to their chest. "You really mean that?" "Cross my heart." Their touched, emotional expression morphs into a grin. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." They pause for a moment, their smile slowly slipping away and you furrow your eyebrows at them. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" You frown at them, crossing your arms over your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now get out of my room; I'm tired. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora talk sleep alone'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

They scoff, a blank look on their face as they keep their eyes trained on the ceiling. "What do you think?" "Right," you nod, chewing on your bottom lip. "Probably a dumb question." They hum in agreement. "The dumbest." "I don't know what else there is to say, Cal," you say in earnest, resting your hands on your stomach as you follow their gaze. Their ceiling is painted black and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. A fond smile touches at your lips as the memory of helping them stick the stars up there flits across your mind, though it falls away just as quick as it appeared. "Other than apologising over and over." "I don't think there //is// anything to say," they mumble, shrugging. "But if there is, it certainly isn't 'sorry'." You look at them just as they do you and they give you a toothy grin. "If you apologise again, I'm gonna punch you in the face." You grin at them and raise your hands in defence. "What's with the threats?" you laugh. "I thought you were happy to have me home." "I can do both," they say with another shrug. They pause for a moment, their smile slowly slipping away and you furrow your eyebrows at them. "When we all go to bed... are you still going to be here when we wake up?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora callie talk 2-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You frown at them, crossing your arms over your chest. "Of course... unless I get abducted by aliens in my sleep." "Don't joke about that!" You chuckle as they smack your arm. "I still get freaked out about that story you and Gray told me when I was seven." You smile at them. "I'm not going anywhere, Cal." "You better not... now get out of my room; I'm tired. Today's been a really long fucking day." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'nora talk sleep alone'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pull Callie's door shut behind you and make your way down the passage to your childhood bedroom, the carpet muffling your footsteps. You feel better after talking to them, lighter almost as if by just being in your sibling's presence, an invisible weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You're still incredibly tired and your stomach is still a knotted mess of emotions but you find it a bit easier to smile. A yawn pulls at your jaw as you make your way out the kitchen, mug of tea in hand. You up the stairs once more and head for your childhood bedroom, glancing momentarily at Callie's door with a tired smile on your face. Inside, you walk through the room in the dark before flicking on the bedside lamp. Nothing's changed, despite the amount of time that's passed. Though that doesn't surprise you. Your posters still adorn the walls, your books still line the shelves, your pinboard is still decorated with photos and momentos from your highschool days. It's strange; this room used to be your sanctuary, a safe place to escape to when the world became too much to bear, but now... now it just feels weird. A feeling you've been getting more and more the longer the day draws on. Weird and empty and cold and lonely. You suppose this is how everyone around you felt too. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamp light as you sip your tea. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. You don't understand how someone can feel so alone, so out of place, even when surrounded by people. You shake your head softly; you shouldn't dwell on dark thoughts. You're too tired to continue thinking anyway. Standing up, you set the mug on your side table and strip down to your underwear before climbing under the covers. You forget to turn off the light but it makes no difference. The second your head hits the pillow, sleep has you in it's clutches and you find yourself drifting off. It doesn't take you very long to succimb to unconsciouness either. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Following his eye line, you realise he's looking at a polaroid of you and Alex on your second date. You'd gone to the park for a picnic; the photo depicting you sitting on the blanket, holding a duck that had wandered over from the pond and $a_them in the corner, holding the camera up high enough to capture both of you. You haven't thought of Alex in a long time, your relationship seems so long ago in comparison to everything else. You vaguely wonder where $a_they is, what $a_they's doing, if $a_they knew you were missing. You suppose you'll never know. You look away from the photo, not wanting to think of your ex for the time being, and back toward your best friend. You don't why he seems so captivated by the photo but a part of you tells you not to worry about it. His secrets are his own, no matter how curious of them you may be. You clear your throat, drawing his attention to you. "I just wanted to tell you goodnight," you say and a small crease forms between his eyebrows as he furrows them. You both know that it's still early, the concept of sleep seems almost absurd at this time but after the day you've had, you feel as though you could sleep for a week. He nods slightly, the movement of his head tipping downward so small and fast you'd have missed it if you weren't looking directly at him. "Goodnight, $name," he says and you can't help but notice the undertone of melancholy in his voice. His arms twitch at his sides, as if he wants to hug you but forces himself not to before he steps around you and heads for the door. "Wait," you blurt out, turning around to face him just as he does you. He raises an eyebrow at you, a questioning look on his face. "Where are you gonna sleep?" You know Grayson well, like the palm of your hand, and whatever time you may or may not have lost hasn't changed that. He's not going home, not tonight, not so long as you're here. And from the way he seems so at ease here, you get the sense that sleeping here, in your childhood home, has become a common thing for him. As if to torture himself further. He clears his throat, blue eyes flicking to the door, distinctly avoiding looking at you as he speaks. "Um, on the couch," he says. "I'll get some blankets from the linen cupboard." Your eyebrows furrow further, a frown taking shape on your lips. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you sure?"</div>' 'nora talk 3-12'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don\t be ridiculous, Gray; you can sleep in my room."</div>' 'nora talk 3-13'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He looks back down at the carpet and hesitates, as if debating his answer. "Yeah, I'm sure." He says, giving you a tight-lipped smile. It's clear to you that he's not, not with his hesitation but you don't want to push him. And as much as you to insist that he stays, you don't do that either. Maybe it's better this way; some alone time could be good for you. After all, you don't know when that will be afforded to you again. You nod then, swallowing all the things you want to say and all the things you probably should say. "Goodnight, Gray," you say and he echoes your sentiment once more. Without another glance back, he walks out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him and you're left all on your own. You sink down on the edge of your old bed, watching as the dust motes dance in the pale lamplight as you place your mug on the side table. The silence weighs heavy on your shoulders, on your heart. Maybe you should've insisted Grayson sleep here after all. You shake your head softly; you shouldn't dwell on dark thoughts. You're too tired to continue thinking anyway. Standing up, you strip down to your underwear and climb under the covers. You forget to turn off the light but it makes no difference. The second your head hits the pillow, sleep has you in its clutches and you find yourself drifting off. It doesn't take you very long to succumb to unconsciousness either. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'nora talk wake up'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Wouldn't be the first time," you add and when he eventually brings his eyes up to yours, you smile at him. "Come on, you know you want to." "I don't know, $name-" "You're gonna tell me you'd prefer the couch over bunking with me?" You stare at him for a moment before the smallest of smiles breaks out on his face. "Fine," he says. "Only because I know you won't let it go if I say otherwise." His smile widens ever so slightly and after failing to do so earlier, you take the time to admire just how much bigger he really is as he stretches. He's not exactly taller; he peaked at a final six foot one in grade ten, but there's simply no other way to describe it. He's too big for this room, taking up too much space for one person, but he looks at ease as if this is the place he feels most comfortable. You suppose you can't blame him for that. "I'll be right back," he says and before you get the chance to reply, he's out the door, heading down the passage. You don't question it, nor do you go after him, and instead take a sip of your tea, the beverage warm and sweet on your tongue. You look back at the pinboard and the memories you had long forgotten about. You make a mental note to take it back to your apartment. You don't remember why you'd chosen not to when you moved out but looking at it now, you can't think of a reason why you //would// leave it. You're just sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as the dust motes dance around you when Grayson reappears, inflatable mattress and blanket in hand. You furrow your eyebrows at him as you lean back on your arms, your mind moving away from your depressing thoughts in favour of your best friend. "C'mon, Gray," you say. "First the couch, now this? I really don't mind sharing, I promise." He doesn't respond at first, offering you a shrug as he sets the box down in front of your cupboard. "I didn't want to assume," he says softly. His voice, normally warm and affectionate, sounds hollow somehow like he's saying the words without meaning them. You don't want to argue, don't want to force him to do anything he doesn't want to do. You lift your shoulders in a shrug of your own, smiling more to yourself than him as you kick off your shoes and place your mug on the side table before throwing yourself over the bed, spreading your limbs out in a starfish position. "Suit yourself, Gronk. That just means more space for me, myself and I." He chuckles then and it's a good sound to hear after the melancholy of the day. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine," he says, rolling his eyes dramatically as he kicks off his boots. "Move over."❤️</div>' 'nora grayson cuddle'>><<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 20, 0, 100), $gray_friendship to Math.clamp($gray_friendship - 20, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">He doubles over in a bow. "Enjoy, my liege."</div>' 'nora grayson sweater'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're, thankfully, pulled from your thoughts when the TV switches off and glancing over your shoulder, you see your mother standing behind the couch, remote in hand. She stares at the dark screen with a strange look on her face, as if seeing something that isn't there, though she's quick to shake out of it. She sets the remote and looks at you with an easy smile on her face. "Breakfast is ready," she announces and it's only then that the smell of bacon and pancakes reaches your nose, and your stomach growls loud enough for the room to hear. Though despite your hunger, despite Callie and Grayson getting up and walking to the kitchen, you still remain seated. "$name?" Grayson says and you look up to see the three of them standing in the doorway, watching you with concerned looks on their faces. "Are you coming?" "I think..." you cut yourself off, not sure if the right words are going to roll off your tongue. You're still trying to process everything that's already happened but it still doesn't make sense to you. But you know how this is going to go, no matter //what// you do or say it won't go as well as you hoped. "I think I just wanna go home." The three share a glance before your mom speaks, her words slightly panicked. "Are… are you sure that's a good idea? I really want you to stay here." You make a move to reply, the objection ready to leave your mouth when Grayson beats you to it, clearing his throat. "I'll drive you, $name." Your mom, already aghast at the situation unfolding, turns to your best friend in attempt to change his mind. "Grayson -" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'ll be fine, mom."</div>' '3-11'>><<set $home_noras to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I won\'t be long."</div>' '3-12'>><<set $home_apartment to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You say, cutting her off before she can plead her case. "Gray will be with me the whole time, I promise." Something of a defeated look twists her features, the slightest huff leaving her parted lips. "Fine," she says, her reluctance as clear as day. "But I want hourly updates!" You give her a smile, praying she doesn't see through it, as Callie turns to enter the kitchen with a chuckle and a roll of their eyes. "I promise, mom." As Gray heads for the front door, she pulls you into a near bone-crushing hug, only releasing you when she deems it necessary. You give her a kiss on the cheek and another bright smile before following Grayson. You're just reaching for the door handle when he stops you, calloused hand planted firmly on yours. Curious, you look at him and follow his eyes to the window beside the door. There you see dozens of reporters standing outside the house, perhaps the very same that were outside the station, the distinction doesn't necessarily matter; they're here and they're here for you. "Kurwa…" Grayson mutters under his breath as he moves himself to stand in front of you. He glances back at you, his face softening slightly as he furrows his eyebrows. "Don't say anything, okay?" You nod though your features twist in concern. You're not sure what more you could possibly say to a group of reporters that you didn't already say to the detective, if anything //'I don't know'// is soon to become your new catchphrase, but you agree nonetheless. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-13'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You say, cutting her off before she can plead her case. "I don't mind staying here for a while, but I'd prefer to have some clothes that actually fit me." She heaves a sigh before she nods, somewhat reluctantly. "Fine," she says. "But no later than lunch, please." You give her a smile, praying she doesn't see through it, as Callie turns to enter the kitchen with a chuckle and a roll of their eyes. "I promise, mom." As Gray heads for the front door, she pulls you into a near bone-crushing hug, only releasing you when she deems it necessary. You give her a kiss on the cheek and another bright smile before following Grayson. You're just reaching for the door handle when he stops you, calloused hand planted firmly on yours. Curious, you look at him and follow his eyes to the window beside the door. There you see dozens of reporters standing outside the house, perhaps the very same that were outside the station, the distinction doesn't necessarily matter; they're here and they're here for you. "Kurwa…" Grayson mutters under his breath as he moves himself to stand in front of you. He glances back at you, his face softening slightly as he furrows his eyebrows. "Don't say anything, okay?" You nod though your features twist in concern. You're not sure what more you could possibly say to a group of reporters that you didn't already say to the detective, if anything //'I don't know'// is soon to become your new catchphrase, but you agree nonetheless. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-13'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Grayson takes a deep breath before he opens the door, guiding you outside and acting as a shield as the reporters descend on you like a flock of vultures. You immediately feel overwhelmed, your skin blooming in goosebumps as fear pulses in your veins, but Grayson acts as a perfect buffer, a mountain of a man separating you from the questions relentlessly thrown at you. You've nearly reached his car, a sleek, black BMW with tinted windows, when one reporter breaks away, attempting to thrust his microphone in your face when Grayson shoves him back, towering over the man as his fist curls in the lapel of his blazer. //"Back the fuck off,"// he growls, his accent thick and his voice dangerously low, and the man pales in light of his anger, stumbling back and out of his tight grip. You're not able to see what happens to him afterwards as you're ushered into the passenger seat by Grayson and it's not long before he's in the driver's seat next to you, gunning it down the street. Watching him defend you like that is... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">weirdly attractive (Bold) ❤️</div>' '3-14'>><<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 15, 0, 100), $gray_friendship to Math.clamp($gray_friendship - 15, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">weirdly attractive (Shy) ❤️</div>' '3-14.1'>><<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 15, 0, 100), $gray_friendship to Math.clamp($gray_friendship - 15, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a bit of a mind fuck ⚡</div>' '3-15-2'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a little frightening</div>' '3-15'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $gray_hot to true>>You've always known that Grayson is good-looking; there's really no use denying it when it's clear to everyone around you. There's just something about him that draws people in and never lets them go. You've never let it get to you before - you've tried, at least - but //now//, being on the receiving end of such fierce protection has you seeing him in a different light. He catches you looking at him out the corner of his eye and he furrows his eyebrows, shifting in his seat as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. "What is it?" "Thank you for doing that," you say. "Back there, with the reporters." He clears his throat, glancing at you with a small smile on his face. "You know I'd do anything for you." "I know but that was different." "Different how?" You mull over you thoughts, choosing between your words carefully. It's always been easy to fluster Grayson, his cheeks turning bright red at the slightest hint of flirtation, the smallest innuendo, and you know that that's exactly what's about to happen with what you say next. "I don't know," you start, smirking slightly as you focus your full attention on his face. "Watching you get all protective like that was kinda... hot." The word has barely left your mouth when he chokes, swerving the car into oncoming traffic before quickly pulling back into the right lane. "Grayson!" You laugh. "You okay?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-14-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He keeps his eyes focused soley on the road ahead of him, his face burning red. "Yep," he replies, clearing his throat once more. "Absolutely perfect." You laugh again and settle back into your seat, deciding not to push him further. A comfortable silence settles over the car and you look at the stereo, both confused as to how to turn it on and curious about modern music. You reach for the center dial, wondering if it's anything like your own car, when you stop yourself. //Your car!// "What?" Grayson says, alarm in his deep voice as he glances at you. "What's wrong?" "My car was stolen!" You can't believe you forgot, though with everything that happened yesterday, it's not surprising that you did. "I should've said so yesterday at the station... you're a detective though; you can report it, right?" He sighs heavily, turning to face you after stopping the car at a red light. "$name..." Now it's your turn to be alarmed. "What?" "You car... wasn't stolen," he says with a sigh. "It was at an impound lot." "An impound lot?" you repeat, your eyebrows furrowing as the full weight of what he said settles in your mind. "Wait, what do you mean //was//?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-16'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

It's somewhat terrifying to watch Grayson act so aggressive when you've always known him to be a gentle giant. You're not sure you've ever heard him raise his voice. But it's not exactly the fact that that side of him exists, but rather that he's able to switch between friendly and aggressive so seamlessly, almost as if he's been doing so for years. It makes you wonder if there's anything that might trigger him, make him turn his anger onto you and you start to think that maybe you don't know him as well as you thought. "Are you okay?" He asks suddenly, his deep, accented voice startling you from your thoughts. He's back to kind, quiet Grayson now and that gives you pause. "Yeah," you reply, though your own voice fails you the first time and you're forced to clear your throat before repeating yourself. "I think so." "I'm sorry you had to experience that," he says, his tone honest. You're not sure if he's referring to the reporters or himself but you don't question him; one half of you worries it would offend him, the other half worries it wouldn't. "It's okay." You force yourself to say the words because maybe if they're out in the open, they'll come true. Though, at this point, you know that's just hopeful thinking. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-15-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The light turns green and he resumes driving. You stare at him, waiting for him to continue and he sighs again. "A day or so after you were reported missing, your car was found in the parking lot of the grocery store," he says slowly, as if remembering it play out. "It was taken to an impound lot until the police could figure out what to do with it." "And?" you question. "Where's it now?" "I don't know," he replies and when he looks at you, a saddened expression on his face, you know he's telling the truth. "It was auctioned off a few years ago. Since we got no evidence from it in the first place, no one saw any reason to keep it." "No one? Not even you?" The words leave your mouth in a mumble and your chest tightens at the thought of him wanting to get rid of a piece of you. "Of course I wanted to keep it, $name," he says quietly. "But I was only an officer then, no one was going to listen to me." He takes a deep breath and, seemingly sensing your next question, he goes on. "We couldn't buy it back either; none of us were informed about the auction. I only found out after when I heard some of the other officers talking about it." You don't ask him who 'us' is, though you're sure you could guess. No, your mind has already moved onto it's next line of questioning; questions about your best friend himself. "Grayson?" "Yeah?" "Why did you become a detective?" He glances at you, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Are you sure you want to know?" You're pretty sure you know the answer already, but you give him your honest reply nonetheless. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes."⚡</div>' '3-17'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No."⚡</div>' '3-18'>><<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 15, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"To find you," he says finally and despite knowing it was coming, his words take your breath away. "After a while, it became my only chance of ever finding you. And it's not like I was going to graduate anyway; I pretty much abandoned school to spend all my time searching." You frown at him. "But… business was your whole world." <<if $gray_romance > 30>>The laugh that leaves his lips is bitter and mirthless. "No, it wasn't; it never was." He doesn't say anymore but he doesn't need to because when he looks at you again, his eyes speak the words for him. //You are. You're my whole world.// Your chest tightens and you have no idea what to do with that. Because yours isn't the only life that's changed and morphed into something so far different than the life you expect to live. Your future has been ripped out from under your feet in an instant. And in a sense, so has his. But still, his words make you wonder. Does he really love you that much? How long has he felt like this about you, like there was nothing else but you? You don't have the courage to ask and you fear that you never will. So you stare at the carpet beneath your feet, letting the silence hang in the air as if there's still hope left in the universe for the both of you.<</if>><<if $gray_romance < 30>>He shakes his head vehemently, as if he's never heard anything more ridiculous. "You're my best friend, $name," he says. "Without you in my life, everything else just fades into the background." Your chest tightens and you have no idea what to do with that. Because yours isn't the only life that's changed and morphed into something so far different than the life you expect to live. Your future has been ripped out from under your feet in an instant. And in a sense, so has his.<</if>> The rest of the drive to your apartment finishes in silence as well, no more words exchanged between you even as he leads you from the parking garage, up the stairs and to your front door. It's not one of those moments where things feel right or natural between you two. There's nothing but tense silence as his hand closes around the doorknob and pushes it open, letting you enter first before following. He shuts the door behind you and you look around, amazed at the fact that everything is as you remember it. Not the furniture, not the art on the walls, not even the various knick-knacks scattered in every corner of the room. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-19'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He doesn't reply and the rest of the drive to your apartment finishes in silence, no more words exchanged between you even as he leads you from the parking garage, up the stairs and to your front door. It's not one of those moments where things feel right or natural between you two. There's nothing but tense silence as his hand closes around the doorknob and pushes it open, letting you enter first before following. He shuts the door behind you and you look around, amazed at the fact that everything is as you remember it. Not the furniture, nor the art on the walls, or even the various knick-knacks scattered in every corner of the room have been moved. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-19'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed in concern, just as he's depositing his keys in the glass bowl next to the door. "You kept all my stuff?" He frowns at you as if the mere thought of getting rid of your things never once crossed his mind. "Why wouldn't I? You give him a flat look. "Gray, the apartment was basically a depressing museum with the constant reminder that I was gone. Why would you //want// to keep all of it?" He avoids your eyes and it slowly dawns on you that there's hypocrisy in your words. Here, you stand somewhat shaming him for keeping all your belongings, when you were near heartbroken at the notion of him agreeing to auction off your car. And that somehow makes you feel even worse. You make a move to apologise when you're preemptively cut off by a soft meow coming from behind you. You turn, excitement and shock morphing your features when you see your cat emerge from the hallway. She blinks, bright yellow eyes landing on you and not even a second goes by before she bolts toward you. You laugh as you scoop her up into your arms, cuddling her close to you as she purrs, loud and intense. A small part of you had been refusing to think of Gralex since finding out about your disappearance in fear that she'd have passed while waiting for you to return, but now you can't deny the relief that blooms in your chest, in your lungs. Losing her on top of everything else would have been the cherry on top of the world's worst cake. You catch Grayson's eyes over the mound of fur pressed against your shoulder and he smiles at you. "I'm gonna take a shower," he says. "You two have some catching up to do." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-20'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He looks unconvinced but he keeps his thoughts to himself and as the silence settles over the car, you look at the stereo, both confused as to how to turn it on and curious about modern music. You reach for the center dial, wondering if it's anything like your own car, when you stop yourself. //Your car!// "What?" Grayson says, alarm in his deep voice as he glances at you. "What's wrong?" "My car was stolen!" You can't believe you forgot, though with everything that happened yesterday, it's not surprising that you did. "I should've said so yesterday at the station... you're a detective though; you can report it, right?" He sighs heavily, turning to face you after stopping the car at a red light. "$name..." Now it's your turn to be alarmed. "What?" "You car... wasn't stolen," he says with a sigh. "It was at an impound lot." "An impound lot?" you repeat, your eyebrows furrowing as the full weight of what he said settles in your mind. "Wait, what do you mean //was//?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-16'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He doesn't give you a chance to reply or object as he disappears down the hall. You find yourself sitting on the couch - Gralex still in your arms and refusing to be put down - and you look around the room once more. It's difficult to grasp the amount of time that's passed when everything still looks the same, as if the apartment itself has been frozen in time. There are no new photos, books, furniture; nothing that could give a stranger a brief look into the life Grayson has made for himself in the last ten years and you slowly begin to wonder if he truly has made a new life outside of looking for you. Perhaps, just like you, he's stuck in the past with no way of moving on, only with the physical reminder that time has moved on without him. You're suddenly pulled from your thoughts by a knock on the front door and you get off the couch, though even as you walk towards the door, there's another knock and then another, the person on the other side relentless and impatient. You furrow your eyebrows and adjust the position of the cat in your arms before reaching for the handle, pulling the door open and coming face to face with your tutor, Kennedy. With her fist still raised to continue knocking on the door, the concerned look on her face morphs into one of surprise, perhaps mirroring your own, and she inhales sharply. "So, it's true," she says, her eyes glossy and her voice just a few octaves higher than whisper. "It really is you."<<set $meet_kennedy to true>> You open your mouth to reply, your words a jumbled mess on your tongue, but she doesn't give you the chance. She launches herself at you and wraps her arms around your middle in a tight embrace, Gralex meowing indignantly between the two of you. You stand there at a loss for words. Kennedy was probably one of the last people you were to expecting to see, especially given how rocky your friendship had been, so it doesn't make sense to you that she's standing here, in your doorway, hugging you as if her life depends on it. But, then again, perhaps it does in the figurative sense. So you do the only thing that makes sense to you and you hug her back. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next chapter</div>' 'chapter three'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He glances up at you as you approach, a smile unfolding on his face, before he clears his throat and quickly looks away, his cheeks twinged ever so slightly in red. He moves over on the loveseat, giving you the space to sit next to him though he doesn't look at you again, instead focussing his attention on the TV screen. You're about to ask what they're watching when you stop yourself. Your picture is on the screen; the morning news is about //you//. "The disappearance of $name $lastname was a case that shocked and baffled the nation," the reporter beside your photo states, both her voice and face serious and unwavering. "With no evidence or leads, authorities had little hope of ever being able to solve the case. Now, ten years later, $lastname Your lips part in shock. Suddenly any notion, any chance - however slim - that this was all a cruel joke is gone. Out the window. This is real. You were actually gone, //missing//. A crack in the armour your family had built. A statistic on some policeman's desk. You turn to Grayson, tears burning at the very back of your eyes as the weight of the news report settles in your chest. Reality has hit you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. "What is this? How do they know about..." You ask, your voice failing on most of the words as you gesture uselessly towards the TV. "Kelsey had to go to the Captain," he says quietly, still without looking at you. He bounces his leg, his fists balled together tightly. He doesn't like this any more than you do. "She didn't have a choice." A shiver rolls down your spine as you think of the detective. You don't like her and you're sure she doesn't like you either; you'd rather not spend any more time with her if you can avoid it, especially not in an interrogation room. Expelling her from your mind, your turn your eyes back to the tv, the reporter continuing to talk about the details of your disappearance. Looking at it now, the TV itself should've been your first indication that something was different. It's large, extremely thin - thinner than you ever imagined a TV could be - and mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The picture is clear as crystal, crisp; almost as if you stand in the newsroom yourself. You'd glanced at the screen briefly yesterday but chose to simply gloss over it. Now, it just seems obvious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The news report suddenly changes scenes</div>' '3-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>3. this is not a case of identity theft</h1></center> Sitting across from Kennedy is nothing short of confusing. It's familiar, the two of you have done this exact thing dozens of times before for academic purposes. You were subjected to each other's presence a few times a week, the icy distance between tutor and student slowly melting into something of a friendship. You know how to talk to her, how to sit in comfortable silence together, how to get along overall. This is nothing new to you and yet it feels that way nonetheless<</nobr>> Despite the familiarity, you feel a sense of detachment just being in her presence. She's not the same woman you once knew, simply looking at her makes that much obvious. Her face has changed, becoming more defined and chiselled, like a sculpture crafted by a master artist. The baby fat is long gone, replaced with something new and alluring. And when she moves, there's an air of confidence that's only grown since the first time you met her - a sense that nothing can stand in her way. She had already changed so much in your four years of being friends; you can only imagine how much change the past ten have brought her. "So..." you say, clearing your throat. "You heard the news, huh?" She frowns at you, hazel eyes never once leaving your face. "It's difficult not to when it's broadcasted nationally," she replies. "I don't think there's a news outlet in the country that isn't talking about you." You mirror her frown. "Right." It's still so strange to you, being the centre of such attention and sensationalism. You never imagined you'd be so widely recognised, especially for something as outlandish as //this//. "It's just so weird," she mumbles and you quirk an eyebrow at her in lieu of questioning her. "You look just as you did that morning." //That morning//. Yesterday for you, when you spent an hour or two with her in the library, going over the various topics available to you for your thesis. It all seems like a lifetime ago and you suppose that it technically was. "Yeah." You sigh. "I've been getting that a lot." "You've got to admit that it's strange." She's still analysing you with that calculating look in her eyes as if she's trying to find something in your face that could prove all that time lost was just a cruel, torturous dream. You know she won't find it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m still not convinced it\'s all real."⚡</div>' '4-1-1'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting - 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical + 10, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 15, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"More than just a little."⚡</div>' '4-1-2'>><<set $accepting to Math.clamp($accepting + 10, 0, 100), $skeptical to Math.clamp($skeptical - 5, 0, 100), $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your admission brings back her frown. "What do you mean?" "Everywhere I look, I can see that time has changed," you begin, unsure of how to express your frustration in the right words. "Everywhere except my reflection. It just doesn't make sense and no matter how hard I try, I can't come up with a logical explanation for any of it." She shakes her head slightly. "Logic isn't everything, $name." "You're saying I should believe the illogical explanations? That I was, what? Kidnapped by aliens or something?" "You know that's not what I meant." "Then what //did// you mean, Ken?" She winces at the nickname, seemingly hurt by the use of it, though she shakes herself out of it quickly. "Just because we don't have all the answers right now, doesn't mean that it's not true." She stares at you dead-on, taking on an expression you're more than used to; it's one she only ever pulled out when you were doubting your skills, your intellect. You reckon it's her way of trying to impart some of her confidence onto you. "It happened, $name, all of it. There's nothing we can do to change it but we can try to at least move on finally." "But how? What if we //never// get those answers?" At this, her shoulders sag in defeat and her expression melts into something resembling dejection. "I don't know..." For a moment, the silence descends upon you and exactly as it did the night before, it feels as though it's suffocating you. Before you even realise it, more words have left your mouth. "Can I ask you something?" "Always." "What's going to happen to my degree?" The thought has been plaguing you for a while now, brought on by the arrival of Kennedy herself. <<nobr>> <center>''[What is the subject of your degree?]''</center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">History</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "history">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Graphic design</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "graphic design">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Computer Science</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "computer science">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Physics</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "physics">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Music</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "music">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Nursing</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "nursing">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Criminal Law</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "criminal law">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Education</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "education">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"I lost ten years in a mere heartbeat... I don't really know how to cope with that." She offers you something of a sympathetic smile, though it falls away just fast as it appeared. "I wish I could say that it gets easier but it doesn't." She sighs as she looks down at her hands, her manicured nails tracing the lines of her palm. "I'd be lying if I said I'd fully come to terms with losing you and you being gone... honestly, even you sitting across from me is difficult to wrap my head around." "So where does that leave us?" "I don't know," she replies honestly, her eyes locking with yours once more. "Psychologically fucked, perhaps? We'd probably make some therapist a lot of money." The smile she offers you is conspiratorial and you can't help but return it. "Only if they like a challenge." For a moment, the silence descends upon you and exactly as it did the night before, it feels as though it's suffocating you. Before you even realise it, more words have left your mouth. "Can I ask you something?" "Always." "What's going to happen to my degree?" The thought has been plaguing you for a while now, brought on by the arrival of Kennedy herself. <<nobr>> <center>''[What is the subject of your degree?]''</center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">History</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "history">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Graphic design</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "graphic design">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Computer Science</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "computer science">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Physics</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "physics">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Music</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "music">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Nursing</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "nursing">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Criminal Law</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "criminal law">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Education</div>' '4-2'>><<set $degree to "education">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $degree is "history">>History has always fascinated you. You remember your mom once telling you that history has a tendency to repeat itself and that only propelled your interest. Studying the past has given you a way to understand the world around you and you've found that learning from where you come has given you an idea of where you could go in the future, even if that idea has been somewhat derailed now.<</if>><<if $degree is "graphic design">>You've always had an overflow of creativity bubbling just below the surface and graphic design has been the perfect outlet for you to improve and showcase your talent. You were always warned not to turn your hobbies into a career but if you're honest with yourself, that's never bothered you before and you doubt it ever will. If anything, you're certain you'll be more motivated in your work doing something you're passionate about.<</if>><<if $degree is "computer science">>You've always liked working with computers because there was always something to do, something new to learn. You could create anything you wanted with a few strings of code. When you graduated high school, there wasn't any doubt in your mind about what you wanted to study next. The world of computers was always expanding and you were determined to be a part of it.<</if>><<if $degree is "physics">>You've always had somewhat of a vague interest in the field of physics but you only really found yourself fascinated by the subject when you began high school. Going on field trips and conducting experiments opened your eyes to the wonders of the world around you and how it all came to be. There were questions you needed to be answered and with no one else there to answer them for you, you took it upon yourself to find them, even if it took the rest of your life.<</if>><<if $degree is "music">>For as long as you can remember, music has been a big part of your life. It was one of the few things that kept you sane when the world got too loud. You don't know exactly when it all started; maybe when you were five and your dad would play his guitar for you in the garage, or when your mom would put on a //Cranberries// CD on the drive home from preschool. All you know is that it was always there, no matter what, and you latched onto it. With the years, your musical talents have only flourished and you finally feel ready to strike out on your own.<</if>><<if $degree is "nursing">>When you were in high school, you found yourself drawn to the field of nursing because of your desire to make a difference in people's lives. On school trips and during volunteer work, you saw firsthand the impact that healthcare professionals had on the well-being of patients and you realized that you wanted to be a part of that impact. Nursing wasn't just a career for you, but a calling and you finally knew your purpose in life.<</if>><<if $degree is "criminal law">>You'd always had a somewhat vague interest in law but it wasn't until high school, through debate and mock trials, that you decided to pursue it as a career. Though it was difficult and complex, it only made you more determined to succeed in getting your degree. It's all too often that crimes go unpunished and you want to at least try to make a difference.<</if>><<if $degree is "education">>Your favourite part of school was always learning new facts and tidbits about the world, especially when you brought those facts home with you and recited them to your mom, who seemed just as excited about them as you did. You quickly realised that sharing your knowledge and inspiring others was a passion that you wanted to pursue. You wanted to be the one that sparked interest and curiosity in the people around you, just like your teachers had done for you.<</if>> You'd been so close to the end, only a handful of months separating you from your graduation and the mere idea of having to start over has your stomach in knots. Ten years lost is bad enough; if your four years spent studying were to suddenly mean nothing, you're certain it would push you over the edge. She raises her eyebrows at you, her surprise evident on her face, but the answer she gives you is measured as if she's thought of this exact thing dozens of times before. "You can pick up where you left off; the university will have kept your credits," she tells you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "The curriculum has changed somewhat but you were always one of the smarter students, so I wouldn't worry about it if I were you." You feel your face get warm at the compliment. You're not used to her speaking so openly with you, especially about how she views you, but you can't deny that it's refreshing. Perhaps not everything that's changed is bad. She bites her lip then, chewing on it as she hesitates to continue. "What is it?" You press and she sighs. "I just don't think it's a good idea to immediately jump back into school," she says and it's clear by the tone of her voice that she's choosing her words carefully. "With everything that's happened, no one would blame you for holding off for a while." "It might be good for me." You lift your shoulders in a shrug as you avoid looking at her directly, afraid of what you might find on her face. "It'd be nice to have a distraction from all of this." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-2.1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

throughout the story, you will be faced with certain choices that affect your relationship with other characters, and affect certain stats. choices marked with '❤️' will increase your romantic interest with a character. <<nobr>>choices marked with '⚡' will affect your mental health stat, either by increasing or decreasing it. a low mental health score will change the way different characters treat you and may result in an undesirable ending. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">I understand, take me to the story</div>' 'prologue'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The Grayson you know doesn't get aggressive or angry, he doesn't curse, doesn't raise his voice, doesn't get violent in any way. The Grayson you know is the kindest man you'll ever come across. But you suppose that maybe you //don't// know Grayson anymore. He's changed, Callie's changed; everyone has changed except //you//. "Are you okay?" He asks suddenly, his deep, accented voice startling you from your thoughts. He's back to kind, quiet Grayson now and that gives you pause. "Yeah," you reply, though your own voice fails you for the first time and you're forced to clear your throat before repeating yourself. "Yeah, I'm fine." "I'm sorry you had to experience that," he says, his tone honest. You're not sure if he's referring to the reporters or himself but honestly it doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. "It's okay." The reply is automatic and you say the words without really thinking about their meaning. It's not okay, probably far from it, but at this point what is? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-15-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>4. the prodigal father</h1></center> The atmosphere is tense; something of a living entity sucking all the air out of your mother's office. You find yourself seeking out the comfort of Callie's touch from where they sit next to you, your fingers interlocking with theirs and when they squeeze your hand back, you know they need it just as much as you. Especially with your parents standing in the same room together after so long.<</nobr>> You still remember the day he left; the joy and the laughter, the warmth that filled your chest as he pulled you into his embrace. But then there's the hurt and the longing, the gut-wrenching realisation that the last time you saw him was actually the last time. You feel all those emotions come flooding back as if you're twelve years old again, heightened to new levels of pain by your own disappearance. You can feel him hovering behind you, almost like an ominous, dark cloud casting a shadow over the life you had to rebuild after he left. You've been picking up the pieces since then only to have them knocked down again by this twisted turn of events. A quick glance over your shoulder and you see him staring that photos and certificates decorating the wall, something of a conspiratorial smile on his face, amused at a joke only he knows. "I love what you've done with the place, Nora," he says, breaking the silence with that same smile directed at your mother, now taking on a sickeningly sweet edge that twists your stomach into knots. "Who knew you had all this in you?" "Are you done?" She spits in return, her fists clenched so tightly atop the desk that her knuckles are beginning to pale. "What are you even doing here?" "Jumping straight into it, are we?" With his hands in his pockets, he moves to the other wall, $eye eyes raking over the decorations your mother had once chosen with such care. <<nobr>>Her eyes blaze momentarily and Callie's grip on your hand tightens instinctively. You haven't been on the receiving end of your mother's angry eyes for a long time but you've learnt to fear for your life each time they make an appearance. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Just tell me why you\'re here all of sudden,\" she hisses. \"The sooner you can get out of my restaurant, the better.\"</div>' '5-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>5. the multiple</h1></center> <center><h1>identities of</h1></center> <center><h1>demetri renfield</h1></center><</nobr>> <<button "next" "chapter six">><</button>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>6. dr colwell</h1></center> <center><h1>in the living room</h1></center> <center><h1>with grayson's</h1></center> <center><h1>hand gun</h1></center><</nobr>>

After everything that's happened, you can't handle any more changes. You know that it's only natural with the amount of time that's passed but it's too much for you to handle all at once. Change is supposed to be a gradual process and yet here you are, thrown in the deep end and expected to know how to swim. So even something as small as Grayson shaving his face and looking once more like your best friend is enough to keep your head above water. Through all your staring, you realise the man is talking and you blink, forcing yourself to pay attention. "We need to go to the hospital," he finishes and your eyes widen in surprise, taken aback by his words. "What? Why?" A quick glance in Kennedy's direction tells you she is just as confused as you. Grayson heaves a heavy sigh, his annoyance at the situation becoming abundantly more clear the longer you look at him. "The district attorney's demanding a DNA test," he responds dryly, rolling his eyes so far back that for a brief moment, all you can see is empty, white sclera. "To prove you are who you say you are." "My face isn't enough proof for them?" You ask, incredulous. He shakes his head. "They can't rule anything out and with how big of a sensation you've become, they need everything they can to close the case." He sighs again. "I'll call Nora on the way and tell her to meet us there." A sensation? //You?// The thought is almost laughable. "I'm coming with you," Kennedy states, finally speaking up and Grayson looks at her as if he'd forgotten she was even here to begin with. The finality in her voice tells you that she's not asking for permission but rather informing you of what's going to happen. His jaw ticks to the side and you think that maybe he might argue with her, telling her that she can't in fact come, but he surprises you and nods. He then turns back to you, a softer look in his bright blue eyes. "You should probably go get changed," he says and you're quick to nod, remembering that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes. You get up and hurry down the passage without another word to either of your friends. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Of all the changes that have been thrown at you, that was the most pleasant, albeit a bit surprising. Grayson's usual look was always more preppy, the stereotypical boy next door that you'd want to bring home to meet your parents. So seeing him the way you did yesterday, rugged and airing on the side of danger, was completely different to what you're used to. But //good// different and you can't help but long for its return. Through all your staring, you realise the man is talking and you blink, forcing yourself to pay attention. "We need to go to the hospital," he finishes and your eyes widen in surprise, taken aback by his words. "What? Why?" A quick glance in Kennedy's direction tells you she is just as confused as you. Grayson heaves a heavy sigh, his annoyance at the situation becoming abundantly more clear the longer you look at him. "The district attorney's demanding a DNA test," he responds dryly, rolling his eyes so far back that for a brief moment, all you can see is empty, white sclera. "To prove you are who you say you are." "My face isn't enough proof for them?" You ask, incredulous. He shakes his head. "They can't rule anything out and with how big of a sensation you've become, they need everything they can to close the case." He sighs again. "I'll call Nora on the way and tell her to meet us there." A sensation? //You?// The thought is almost laughable. "I'm coming with you," Kennedy states, finally speaking up and Grayson looks at her as if he'd forgotten she was even here to begin with. The finality in her voice tells you that she's not asking for permission but rather informing you of what's going to happen. His jaw ticks to the side and you think that maybe he might argue with her, telling her that she can't in fact come, but he surprises you and nods. He then turns back to you, a softer look in his bright blue eyes. "You should probably go get changed," he says and you're quick to nod, remembering that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes. You get up and hurry down the passage without another word to either of your friends. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

In your haste to get to your room, you realise you hadn't let Gralex go and you approach your bed to set her down amongst your mountain of pillows. The cat clings to you, chirping unhappily at even the prospect of leaving your embrace but you finally manage to pry her claws out of your arm. She meows at you again, glaring up at you from her favourite pillow and you can't help but smile at her. Leaning down, you press a kiss to the top of her head and receive another, softer meow in return. You begin to rifle through your closet, unsure of what to wear. What outfit is appropriate for something like this? There are too many unknowns about what's going to happen and you feel your anxiety begin to bloom in your chest like an untamed weed. You don't even know what's in style anymore. After pulling out varying articles of clothes and dumping them on the floor in frustration for close to ten minutes, you stop yourself and heave a sigh. You can't waste any more time on this than you already have, deciding to just wear an outfit similar to what you wore the day before. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A bomber jacket layered on top of a hooded sweat shirt and plain t-shirt, paired with ripped jeans and high top sneakers.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_1 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A lace top under a tank top and jacket, paired with animal print skinny jeans and boots.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_2 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A denim button up beneath a corduroy overall dress, knee high socks and ankle boots.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_3 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A long sleeve scoop neck top over a vest, with a mini skirt, wrist bands and sandals.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_4 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A denim jacket over a flannel and graphic t-shirt with dark jeans and sneakers.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_5 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A distressed tank top, black leather cargo pants and doc martens accessorised with a studded belt, chains and rings.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_6 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">A corset top, low rise pleated skirt, fishnets stockings, creepers and a choker with chains.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_7 to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Grey camo pants, metal band t-shirt, military boots, leather studded cuffs and chain necklaces.</div>' '4-5'>><<set $outift_8 to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

grayson = $gray_romance kennedy = $ken_romance alex = $alex_romance <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Accepting $accepting%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Skeptical $skeptical%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="acceptingstat"></div> </div></div> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Mental Health $mental%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="mentalstat"></div> </div></div>

You don't see the concerned expression she directs at you, more so hearing it in her voice, her accent forcing its way out in the open the more she speaks. "Not all distractions are healthy, $name," she insists. "It could do you more damage than good." There's not much you can think of to say in your defence. You know she's right, she almost always is, but you don't know how to admit that to yourself. You don't even know if you can. The truth is you just want to stop thinking about it; not only your disappearance but everything else that was affected by it. And if you're still being honest with yourself, any distraction, no matter how bad it proves to be, is one you'd welcome with open arms. Gralex chirps suddenly from her place on your lap, seemingly unhappy with the inadequate attention you're giving her and you let your hands coast over her fur in order to appease her. Kennedy lets her eyes fall away from you to Gralex. "I don't think I've ever seen that cat so happy." You give her a rueful smile. "Spend a lot of time in my apartment then, have you?" "I've only been here a few times," she admits as she continues watching you pet Gralex, the cat purring happily as you do so. "When I thought Grayson could use the company. It's been a few years though." It's difficult imagining her and Grayson being at all close; they'd only ever met once and even then the interaction was brief. But that was another time, another life; you suppose a lot of bonding can happen when the person who brought them together vanishes into thin air. Before you can formulate a reply, however, Grayson himself re-enters with a frown on his face as he stares down at his phone, dressed in fresh clothes and his hair still wet but styled back, his face cleanly shaven. Standing before you, he looks exactly how you know him to be: bright-eyed and cheerful, radiating boyish charm and undying optimism. The real boy next door type. This is your Grayson, not the tired and haggard man you met yesterday. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re happy to have him back to the man you know and love.</div>' '4-3-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Though you\'re glad to have some sense of normalcy back, you can\'t help but miss his new look.</div>' '4-3-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

For the second time today, you analyse your reflection, frowning at the person that stares back at you. Perhaps the district attorney is right to question who you are; you're starting to doubt what it means to be $name $lastname yourself. You turn to face your cat, spreading your arms out to show your outfit. "What do you think?" You ask and she tilts her to the side, observing you with big yellow eyes. Finally, after a brief moment of silence, she meows at you, giving you a once-over before she looks back up at your face. "What's wrong with it?" You frown at your cat and she meows again before jumping off the bed to rub against your legs. You sigh and pick her up, scratching under her chin as she begins to purr. "You can't come with me, you know." Again she meows, this time with a certain sullenness in her soft voice and you kiss her head. "I'll be back before you know it." Though reluctant to be set back down, she doesn't put up a fight as you deposit her back on her pillow. You know she'll be okay; she's waited ten years for you to come back after all. She can wait a little longer. With one last glance in the mirror, you nod and leave your room. Your clothes might be out of date, but you at least feel like yourself; like there's still some normal left in this world, and you think that might just make this whole thing that much more bearable. You find Grayson and Kennedy standing by the door, a tense silence hanging over them and you can't help but wonder why. What happened while you were in your room changing? What words, if any, were shared between them to make the air this uncomfortable? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Confusion written on your face, you look to Grayson for answers.❤️</div>' '4-6-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Confusion written on your face, you look to Kennedy for answers.❤️</div>' '4-6-2'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head, putting the thoughts from your mind and gesture to the door. \"Let\'s go.\"</div>' '4-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 5, 0, 100)>>You meet his eyes and you see something akin to nostalgia take over his features. Immediately the tension eases somewhat and you can't really understand why. "You look great," he says, his cheeks taking on a faint red tint, and you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you." A small part of you thinks he's just saying so to make you feel better about the situation but a much bigger part tells you that he means it. //You so badly want him to mean it.// Grayson clears his throat then, his cheeks an even deeper red. "We should get going," he says and without any explanation over what happened with Kennedy, he leads the way out the door, giving the two of you no choice but to follow. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $ken_romance to Math.clamp($ken_romance + 5, 0, 100)>>You meet her eyes and a grin unfolds on her face as she gives you a once-over. "Now this definitely takes me back," she jokes and the tension in the air eases somewhat. "Shut up," you grumble with a roll of your eyes but you can feel your own smile making an appearance on your face. "I don't have anything else to wear." "It looks good," she tells you and despite the amused look on her face, you can tell she's being earnest. Grayson clears his throat then, avoiding looking at either of you. "We should get going," he says and without any explanation over what happened with Kennedy, he leads the way out the door, giving the two of you no choice but to follow. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You arrive at the hospital soon after, a sense of calm settling your nerves when you spot your mom waiting by the entrance, only for them to be reignited at the sight of the Detective standing next to her. You hadn't been expecting to see her, and with your burgeoning anxiety, you almost hope the ground opens up and swallows you whole. When Grayson parks the car, and him and Kennedy get out, you remain rooted to your seat. You can't bring to move, not that you even really want to. Back at your apartment, with Gralex purring her head off in your arms, you were just starting to feel better about everything, but now it's all coming back, slamming into you at full force. You can't think, you can't breathe, you just //can't//. The world is suffocating you and there's nothing you can do to stop it. A knock on the window beside you breathe life back into you and you yelp in surprise, knocking your head against the glass in your haste to see who it is. Still somewhat rattled, you meet the concerned eyes of... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Grayson.</div>' '4-8-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kennedy.</div>' '4-8-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You've always known that Grayson is good-looking; there's really no use denying it when it's clear to everyone around you. There's just something about him that draws people in and never lets them go. You've never let it get to you before - you've tried, at least - but //now//, being on the receiving end of such fierce protection has you seeing him in a different light. He catches you looking at him out the corner of his eye and he furrows his eyebrows, shifting in his seat as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. "What is it?" "Thank you for doing that," you say, looking down at your hands in your lap, your face warm. "Back there, with the reporters." He clears his throat, glancing at you with a small smile on his face. "You know I'd do anything for you." "I know and it really means a lot to me." The words don't carry the full weight of what you feel for him but for some reason, you can't convince yourself to say more, to tell him just how much it meant to you and how much you want him to do it again. You briefly think that that makes you a coward, too scared to tell your best friend how you really feel and without meaning to, your thought latch onto the word, playing it repeat like a broken record. "You're welcome," he replies. His voice is soft, carrying with it a certain hope that you'll say more and a fear that you won't. You guess that makes you both cowards. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-14.2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

A comfortable silence settles over the car and you look at the stereo, both confused as to how to turn it on and curious about modern music. You reach for the center dial, wondering if it's anything like your own car, when you stop yourself. //Your car!// "What?" Grayson says, alarm in his deep voice as he glances at you. "What's wrong?" "My car was stolen!" You can't believe you forgot, though with everything that happened yesterday, it's not surprising that you did. "I should've said so yesterday at the station... you're a detective though; you can report it, right?" He sighs heavily, turning to face you after stopping the car at a red light. "$name..." Now it's your turn to be alarmed. "What?" "You car... wasn't stolen," he says with a sigh. "It was at an impound lot." "An impound lot?" you repeat, your eyebrows furrowing as the full weight of what he said settles in your mind. "Wait, what do you mean //was//?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '3-16'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Frowning, he pulls the door open and leans against the frame. "I know this is a lot," he says, offering you a sympathetic smile that drops away all too quickly for your liking. "But you're not alone." He casts a quick glance over his shoulder before his blue eyes return to your face, searching for something you're not quite sure he'll ever find. "And at the very least, you'll always have me." You nod, offering him a smile of your own. You find solace in his presence, a steadfast support that makes everything seem a little less daunting. Really, you can't imagine having to experience such a thing without him by your side. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I couldn\'t do this without you, you know?\"❤️ (bold)</div>''4-8-1.1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"It helps that you\'re here.\"❤️ (shy)</div>''4-8-1.3'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I know... I just need a second to breathe.\"</div>''4-8-1.2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She furrows her eyebrows at you, plush lips pulled together to form a pout and she reaches out a manicured hand to pull the door open. She sits on her haunches before you, a strange sight to behold in her tailored suit and high heels, and directs her concerned expression up at you. "Are you okay?" she asks and you can't help but think it's a ridiculous question. Of course you're not okay, you haven't been okay since yesterday, but there's not much you can do about that now. And you know she means well. "Yeah," you tell her, breathing a sigh before you give her a less-than-convincing smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Better with you around.\"❤️ (bold)</div>''4-8-2.1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"You make easier to deal with anyway\"❤️ (shy)</div>''4-8-2.2'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"It\'s all just a little much, you know?\"</div>''4-8-2.3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>His eyes drop to the ground, a bright blush blooming on his cheeks. He clears his throat, drags a hand through his hair but he can't meet your eyes no matter how hard he seems to try. "O-of course," he says, licking his lips nervously. "I'm here for anything you need." You reach out and gently place your hand on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "That means a lot to me," you say softly, tilting your head to catch his gaze. "I just wanted you to know that." He finally meets your eyes, and the vulnerability you see in them takes your breath away. His blue irises shimmer with a mix of emotions; concern, affection, and perhaps a hint of fear. "I just... I don't want to let you down," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. The hesitation in his voice makes you frown because you know what he was going to say. //I don't want to lose you again.// And how are you supposed to reassure him of that when even you don't know how it happened in the first place? Where you would even begin? "You won't," you tell him, unsure of which statement you're answering. Said and unsaid; they both hold a weight that overwhelms you, squeezing your heart until it feels like bursting. He shakes his head slightly as if he doesn't believe you - to be honest, you don't know that //you// believe you - before he's looking at you again, the vulnerability gone and locked behind a cool detachment that has you drawing back. "We should go inside," he says softly. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go home." You hesitate, your eyes scanning his face for any last remnant of the emotions he'd shown just seconds before accepting that it's well and truly gone. You nod, unbuckle your seat and step out of the car. Shutting the door behind you, you take one last deep breath before following his to the hospital entrance. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Okay," he says as he straightens up, his hands making their way into his pockets. He glances over his shoulder and your eyes follow, settling where Kennedy stands with your mother and the detective. The former two talk amongst themselves, occasionally looking over at you and Grayson with concern etched on their features. The detective, however, watches you with a stoicness that sends shivers down your spine, her gaze intense and unwavering. You can't do this, you tell yourself. //You don't have a choice.// "Do you want me to wait with you?" Grayson asks suddenly, drawing your attention back to him and finding those big blue eyes of his scanning your face. Though your heart's in your throat, choking you almost, you quickly shake your head. "No, I'm okay," you say quickly, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car in one fluid motion. "Let's go inside." He doesn't believe you, based on the way he studies you, but he doesn't say anything to dispute your claim of being fine. Instead, perhaps maybe shamefully, he shuts your door for you and leads the way to the entrance, blue eyes meeting yours over his shoulder to make sure that you're following him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $gray_romance to Math.clamp($gray_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>Though blushing, he can't help the goofy smile that appears on his face as he meets your eyes. "Really?" he asks, a hopefulness in his voice that has your own face getting warm. "Oh, uh, yeah!" you say quickly, your eyes wide with embarassment. "Mom and Ken being here are great too; big, big help. And you're my best friend obviously so that's... really... nice." Great, you're rambling. //Coward.// He bites his lip in an attempt to hide his smile but there's an unexpected sadness on his face too and you can't quite figure out why that is. But before you can even really think about it, it's gone just as soon as it appeared. "Right," he says softly. Clearing his throat then, he stands up straighter and shoves his hands in his pockets. "We should go inside. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go home." You hesitate, your eyes scanning his face for any last remnant of the emotions he'd shown just seconds before accepting that it's well and truly gone. You nod, unbuckle your seat and step out of the car. Shutting the door behind you, you take one last deep breath before following his to the hospital entrance. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $ken_romance to Math.clamp($ken_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>She gives you a megawatt smile in return as she reaches up to take your hand in hers. "You know I'm not your tutor anymore," she says. "You don't have to flatter me." "It's working, then?" you ask, glancing between her face and your joined hands. She looks down to where her fingers entwine with yours and bites her lip in a poor attempt to hide her smile growing. "A little," she admits. "But I'd need more evidence to confirm that hypothesis." "You're impossible," you laugh and she lets go off your hand as she stands up. Your eyes meet again and you can't help but lose yourself within them. She's beautiful - she always has been and she always will be - but there's something about the way that she looks at you now that sets your heart ablaze. Maybe it's because it's //you// that gets to be looked at by her in this way or maybe you're just delusional and love sick. Whatever it is, you're happy to experience it in real time. "Come on," she says eventually, reaching for your hand once more. "Let's go inside before Grayson gets fired." You chuckle as you throw off your seatbelt and step out the car before letting her pull you towards the hospital, your eyes coming to rest once more on your joined hands. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $ken_romance to Math.clamp($ken_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>Before she even has time to react, you bury your face in your hands in fear of what you'll see, what she'll say in response. However she surprises you when she laughs and reaches up to pull your hands down, forcing you to look at her. And you don't know how but she gets even more beautiful each time you do. "Don't hide from me," she tells you and despite the smile on her face, you can't help but notice the pleading in her voice. As if the thought alone is enough to break her heart. You don't want to break her heart; not when it's Kennedy, looking at you like you're the only person she ever wants to look at. It doesn't get any worse than that. Your face is still warm when you nod at her but no longer with embarrassment. "Okay," you say and her smile brightens. She stands up then, straightening her blazer momentarily before offering you her hand, her pinky outstretched. "Promise?" she asks and you're quick to nod, reaching up to wrap your finger around hers. "Come on," she says as she entwines the rest of your fingers so that she's now holding your hand. "Let's go inside before Grayson gets fired." You chuckle as you throw off your seatbelt and step out the car before letting her pull you towards the hospital, your eyes coming to rest once more on your joined hands. One of these days you'll figure out what it is about Kennedy that makes you feel so good about yourself. Until then though, you're fine with simply holding her hand. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She nods in understanding and reaches up to place her hand on your arm. "I don't doubt it," she says, her voice a soft and soothing sound that calms your nerves somewhat. "But if it's any consolation, you're handling it really well." "Really?" You can't help but laugh, incredulous at the notion that the anything you're feeling can be described as 'well'. "I feel like I'm one second away from a mental break." She scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully before offering you a genuine smile. "My point exactly," she says. "Anyone else would've already //had// a mental break, but you're still going strong." A teasing smile of your own makes its way onto your face. "What if I'm just bottling all my emotions up for a really big one down the line?" "Oh, no; definitely don't do that," she says with a grimace before grinning at you once more. "What I mean is... I'm proud of you. And I'm glad to have you back." You gently smack her arm, your voice taking on a joking tone. "Lead with that next time!" She shakes her head, chuckling softly as she stands up. "Come on," she says eventually, gesturing you follow her. "Let's go inside before Grayson gets fired." You chuckle as you throw off your seatbelt and step out the car before letting her lead you towards the hospital, something of a skip in your step. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

As soon as you're in front of her, your mom takes a hold of you. A bone crushing hug, a kiss on the cheek, her fingers laced through with yours as you walk through the hospital doors - any little touch to reassure her that you're still here, alive and well, right by her side. And you let her. For ten in the morning on a random week day, the hospital is incredibly busy. A waiting room full of patients, doctors rushing about and nurses rushing after them, the intercom going off with a new announcement or urgent call for assistance every few minutes. It's all too overwhelming and you're once again finding it difficult to breathe. "What now?" You ask, turning your attention to Grayson and doing your best to ignore the burning stare leveled at you by the detective. "Where do we --?" You cut yourself off when you hear a voice you'd been longing to hear for years and you immediately find yourself searching for its source. There, standing at the nurse's station in a white coat, $a_their black hair sleek and pushed out of $a_their face, a vision of beauty in the horrid mess that has become your life. “Alex?” you say before you can stop yourself, $a_their name a taste of honey on your tongue and when $a_they looks up at you, you're transported back to the last time you saw $a_them. “$name?” $a_they says, breathless at the sight of you and $a_they abandons $a_their previous conversation to approach you. Coming to a stop in front of you, $a_they stares at you in awe. “I heard the news this morning but I couldn't believe it... it's really you.” <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-10'>><<set $meet_alex to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You can't help but let your eyes rake over $a_their face, taking in every last little detail and comparing it to your memories. Almost impossibly, $a_they looks no different, as if $a_they stepped straight out of your mind and into the living world. It's breathtaking to look at $a_them and for a moment you think you might still be dreaming after all. But then, your mom squeezes your hand and you come crashing back down to the real world. No, this is real life. You clear your throat quickly, raising your free hand to scratch at the back of your neck. "What --um, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Germany?" Your mind flicks back to the last time the two of you spoke, to that dreaded moment when your relationship came to a final, deafening end. You suppress a wince and immediately pull your thoughts back to the moment. $a_They smiles at you and it's the most genuine one you've seen in the past few days. There's nothing $a_they's hiding behind it, no emotion of $a_theirs that $a_they doesn't want you to see. It's wholly and unequivocally Alex. And for that, you're grateful. "Oh, I work here," $a_they tells you, grinning as $a_they gestures to the badge clipped to $a_their labcoat. "I moved back here to help with..." $a_Their words taper off as $a_they waves a hand in your direction and your eyes widen at the implication that you're the reason $a_they's back. //Your disappearance brought $a_them back.// Grayson cuts in between you before you get the chance to reply and when you look up at him, you see him looking at Alex with an annoyed look on his face. The very same one he wore in front of the reporters outside of your mom's house. "It's been a lovely reunion," he starts. "But we need to get moving." Unaffected by Grayson's attitude, Alex nods quickly, sliding back into doctor mode as if it were as easy as slipping on a coat. "Right! What are you here for?" $a_they asks before $a_their face suddenly twists in concern. "You're not hurt, are you?" "Police business," Grayson grumbles in response. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">You roll your eyes. \"I need to get a DNA test done.\"</div>' '4-11'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The detective suddenly steps forward, making her presence known and bringing all eyes to her. "We have a warrant," she states, holding the folded paper out to Alex and $a_their eyes widen ever so slightly as $a_they takes it from her and begins to read it. You watch as $a_their deep brown eyes quickly skim over the page, $a_their face lighting up by the time $a_they reaches the bottom. "I can help with this," $a_they says happily, handing the warrant back to Kelsey before $a_they smiles at you, a smile you eagerly return. "Don't you have other work to do?" Grayson asks, exasperation evident in his tone, and Alex makes a show of dragging $a_their eyes from your face to his, $a_their smile widening. "Where's the fire, Columbo?" $a_they asks with a teasing smile. "It's funny you should ask, actually." Without waiting for a response, $a_they turns around and walks back to the nurse's station, forcing the rest of you to follow behind. "Have my interns take over my next few patients," $a_they says to the man sitting behind the desk and he nods, returning Alex's rather infectious smile before turning to the computer in front of him. Turning around, Alex looks only to you and you find yourself captivated by the attention $a_they gives you. "You can follow me," $a_they says, $a_their voice a softer tone than before and you're nodding before you even realise it. $a_They looks up then, at the emotional support group you brought with you. "You four will have to wait here, unfortunately." By $a_their tone of voice and the way $a_their eyes linger on Grayson, you don't think $a_they finds it all that unfortunate. Finally, $a_they sends a wink and a smile in your mom's direction and you notice how her posture loosens somewhat before $a_they's nodding to the hallway behind $a_them, brown eyes back on you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-12'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

After managing to pry your hand out of your mother's death grip, you find yourself walking alongside Alex. Your eyes on $a_their face, not even paying attention to where you're going. "It's really good to see you," you hear yourself saying. "You're one to talk, $name," $a_they grins. "I thought it was rough when we broke up after graduation... the past ten years without you have been hell." $a_Their tone is matter of fact, as if it's no longer something $a_they anguishes over but rather a now accepted part of life. As if having a piece of $a_themself missing is just the way things have to be. You sincerely hope that it's not. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"So, what you\'re saying is; you missed me,\" you say in an attempt to lighten the mood.</div>' '4-13-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"It hasn\'t been easy for me either,\" you admit. ❤️ (bold)</div>' '4-13-2'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I know what you mean,\" you say, suddenly avoiding $a_their eyes. ❤️ (shy)</div>' '4-13-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

$a_They laughs, shaking $a_their head slightly as $a_they glances at you. "Of course, I have," $a_they tells you. "I'd be an idiot not to." $a_They comes to a stop outside of a closed door and turns to face you fully. A teasing smile appears on $a_their lips and $a_they shoves $a_their hands in the pockets of $a_their labcoat, rocking on $a_their feet slightly. "The question of the hour, however, is whether //you// missed //me//?" You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at $a_them as you cross your arms over your chest. "Is that a trick question?" $a_Their smile widens and you catch a spark of mischief in $a_their eyes. "And what if it is?" $a_they asks, swaying from side to side in a poor attempt to appear coy and you can't help but laugh. "I missed you too, Lex," you say finally and $a_their face lights up in a way you've never seen before. "That's a relief," $a_they joke. "You had me worried for a second there." With a smile as bright and as brilliant as the sun, $a_they takes a step back and gestures to the door. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"after you.\"</div>' '4-14'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $alex_romance to Math.clamp($alex_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>"You really know how to make a mark on someone," you add softly. Despite having been missing, despite losing so much time; being apart from Alex for as long as you have - even longer when you actually think about it - is a worse feeling than the rest of it combined. Alex comes to a stop outside of a closed door and $a_they turns to face you fully. A soft smile graces $a_their face and out of the corner of your eye, you see $a_their fingers twitch as if $a_they wants to reach out and touch you but is too afraid to actually do it. $a_They lets $a_their eyes rake over your face, $a_their gaze warm and affectionate. "Is now the wrong time to mention that I never should've broken up with you?" $a_they asks, $a_their voice a soft and sweet melody that send shivers down your spine. "Probably, yeah," you murmur, breathless under the watch of $a_their deep, brown eyes. After all this time, how does $a_they still have such an effect on you? You're not sure you'll ever know and even less so that you //want// to know. "Guess I'll keep that to myself then," $a_they replies. After a moment of perfect eternity spent in silence, simply staring at each other, $a_they takes a deep breath and steps back. Clearing $a_their throat, $a_they gestures to the door. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"after you.\"</div>' '4-14'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $alex_romance to Math.clamp($alex_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>You feel your face get warm as you stare at the floor and Alex takes the opportunity to reach out and take your hand in $a_theirs. "Still shy as ever, I see," $a_they says with a chuckle. "At least that hasn't changed with time." "Don't tease me," you say softly, raising your eyes ever so slightly to see $a_them smiling at you. $a_They gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not, I promise," $a_they says, using $a_their free hand to draw a cross over $a_their heart. "It's one of the things I love most about you." Your eyes widen. "You still love me?" Again, $a_they laughs, incredulous that you can't believe the very idea of $a_them still loving you. "Of course, I do," $a_they says. "Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean my feelings for you ever went away." At $a_their revelation, any kind of remark dies on your tongue. How on earth are you ever supposed to recover from //that//? What could you say that would even measure up? Sensing your trepidation, and perhaps the insecurity pulsing through you as naturally as the blood in your veins, $a_they saves you from having to say anything at all when $a_they squeezes your hand again and nods to the door. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"let\'s go in, yeah?\"</div>' '4-14'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You step into a well-lit, albeit cramped office. A counter and floating cabinets sit against the opposite wall, a desk and rolling stool on the left-hand side and a two-seater couch on the right. An upholstered chair sits opposite the door, beside the counter. "You can sit anywhere you like," Alex states as $a_they walks over to the counter before $a_they points to the chair. "As long as it's right there." You chuckle and do as you're told, sinking down onto the chair as you watch $a_them gather the necessary supplies. <<if $degree is "nursing">>You mentally check them off as you see $a_them lay them out: gloves, iodine, tourniquet, tubes, tube holder, needle, tape, gauze. $a_They catches you watching $a_them and $a_they meets your eyes. "Shouldn't a nurse be doing this?" You flash $a_them a teasing smile as you think back to all of your classes. "Do you even remember how?" $a_They pauses putting on $a_their gloves to press a hand to $a_their chest, feigning hurt. "That cuts deep, $name," $a_they says as $a_they presses $a_their lips into a thin line. "And here I thought you still liked me." You laugh again and two of you settle into a comfortable silence.<</if>> After putting on $a_their gloves, $a_they sits on the stool and wheels back towards you. Taking your arm in $a_their hands, $a_they begins trying to identify the correct vein. "So," $a_they says after a moment, a cheeky smile on $a_their lips. "I see you still have your shadow." You smile despite yourself at Alex's nickname for Grayson. "He's my best friend," you state simply, as if that on its own is all that needs to be said. "He's a lot more... //aggressive// than I remember." $a_They finds the vein and presses $a_their thumb against it simply to double check before reaching for the tourniquet. $a_They ties it around your arm, just above your elbow crease, and grabs the iodine. "Make a fist," $a_they adds and you oblige. "He... he's been through a lot," you say after a moment, unsure of what you're supposed to say to justify the way that he is now. Without having been able to see his transformation for yourself, you don't know where you would even begin. You focus your attention back on the doctor and tilt your head to the side as you observe $a_them. "Be nice to him, please." Alex scoffs, keeping $a_their eyes on your arm as $a_they sterilizes the patch of skin. "When am I ever not nice?" You give $a_them a flat look as you replay in your mind every time the two of them interacted with each other. "Are you forgetting all of grade 12?" $a_They pointedly avoids your eyes as $a_they leans back, prepping the needle while allowing your skin to dry. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Just try," you plead. "For me." Glancing up at your face, $a_they heaves a sigh. "It's not all me, you know..." "I know," you say with a nod. "And I'll talk to him." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I want you two to get along.\"❤️ (gralex poly)</div>' '4-15-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"But that means no making fun of his accent.\"</div>' '4-15-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $gralex_romance to Math.clamp($gralex_romance + 10, 0, 100)>>$a_They rolls $a_their eyes at you but the smile on $a_their face is undeniable. "Well, how can I say no to a request like that?" You smile back. "You can't." "Very sneaky," $a_they tuts, waving a gloved finger at you. "Using your powers for evil... you know I can't resist." Finally, $a_they uses the needle in $a_their hand to gesture to your arm. "Are you ready?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">you nod and look away.⚡</div>' '4-16-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">you nod and watch as $a_they inserts the needle.⚡</div>' '4-16-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

At this, $a_their jaw drops, aghast at your request as if you're asking the impossible of $a_them. And perhaps, when you truly think about it, you are. "But it's so much fun!" $a_they complains. Quickly, $a_they clears $a_their throat and straightens $a_their back, seemingly getting into character and you have to stifle a laugh. //"Look at me, I'm Grayson; I'm a big and scary detective now. Pierogi... kielbasa... other Polish words."// You're unable to contain your laughter by the time $a_they reaches the end. "How are you so good at that?" After all the time you've spent with Grayson and his mom, you're well versed in what a typical Polish accent sounds like and if you didn't already know Alex prior to hearing $a_them imitate them, you'd have thought $a_they was Polish $a_themself. $a_They simply shrugs and grins at you. "I'm just naturally gifted." "I mean it though." "//Fine//..." $a_they grumbles but $a_they seems to get over it pretty quickly, using the needle in $a_their hand to gesture to your arm. "Are you ready?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">you nod and look away.⚡</div>' '4-16-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">you nod and watch as $a_they inserts the needle.⚡</div>' '4-16-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 10, 0, 100)>>The pain is brief, a slight pinch that you immediately forget what it felt like when the moment is over. $a_They attaches the tube and you feel a subtle tugging sensation as your blood is pulled from your veins. "I meant to ask," $a_they says suddenly, bringing your attention back to $a_them. "What's the test for?" Again you roll your eyes, heaving a sigh that weighs heavy on your soul. "The police don't believe I really am $name $lastname." You pull your eyes away from the ceiling and look at Alex instead. <<if $mental < 50>>"I don't know why though... who would want to be me?" "Anyone with a brain, //obviously//," $a_they says with a click of $a_their tongue, chastising you. Though the comment brings a smile to you lips, you can't deny the scepticism building in your chest. As it stands currently, //you// don't even want to be you.<</if>> "They should've just come to me. There's no way I'd ever forget a face like yours," $a_they goes on. "My face isn't proof enough," you tell $a_them, your tone only slightly bitter, and you watch $a_them frown as $a_they focuses back on your arm. With the tube finally full, $a_they removes the tourniquet first before the needle. "There's no replacing you, $name2," $a_they says with a scoff before $a_they presses a piece of cotton down on the puncture and secures it in place with a piece of medical tape. After disposing of $a_their gloves and the needle, labeling your blood sample and sealing it in a clear plastic medical bag, $a_they turns back to you with a grin on $a_their face. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"all done!\"</div>' '4-17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 10, 0, 100)>>You can't help but wince as the needle goes in, the pain lingering even long after the moment has passed. Alex moves with practised ease, keeping the needle steady with one hand and attaching a tube to the end of it with the other. Your eyes widen at the sight of your blood flowing into the transparent tube, a gush of crimson flooding the clear plastic. "I meant to ask," $a_they says suddenly as if sensing your discomfort and you bring your attention back to $a_them. "What's the test for?" Again you roll your eyes, heaving a sigh that weighs heavy on your soul. "The police don't believe I really am $name $lastname." You pull your eyes away from your arm and the blood pouring out of it and look at Alex instead. <<if $mental < 50>>"I don't know why though... who would want to be me?" "Anyone with a brain, //obviously//," $a_they says with a click of $a_their tongue, chastising you. Though the comment brings a smile to you lips, you can't deny the scepticism building in your chest. As it stands currently, //you// don't even want to be you.<</if>> "They should've just come to me. There's no way I'd ever forget a face like yours," $a_they goes on. "My face isn't proof enough," you tell $a_them, your tone only slightly bitter, and you watch $a_them frown as $a_they focuses back on your arm. With the tube finally full, $a_they removes the tourniquet first before the needle. "There's no replacing you, $name2," $a_they says with a scoff before $a_they presses a piece of cotton down on the puncture and secures it in place with a piece of medical tape. After disposing of $a_their gloves and the needle, labeling your blood sample and sealing it in a clear plastic medical bag, $a_they turns back to you with a grin on $a_their face. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"all done!\"</div>' '4-17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Equipped with a juice box and cookie that Alex had handed to you before leaving the office, you let $a_them lead you back to the waiting room. $a_They walks just a step in front of you but $a_their eyes never stray from your face for too long. You can tell there's more that $a_they wants to say to you but you can't bring yourself to ask. Your mind is too full, your thoughts racing faster you can comprehend, and you wouldn't be able to focus on anything even if you tried. You can't deny the feeling of doubt you feel blooming in your chest. What if the District Attorney is right? What if you are just some imposter, stealing someone else's life? You used to think that that would be impossible; that if no one else believed you, you at the very least would know the truth, but when ten years of wasted time separates yesterday from today, you don't know what to think anymore. You're back in the waiting room before you realise it, Grayson standing before you and looking more relieved than you'd expected him to be. Kennedy stands a step behind, smiling brightly at you and offering you a tiny repreive from the cacophony of thoughts taking over your mind. After unintentionally meeting the detective's cold stare, you realise that your mom is nowhere to be seen but before you can ask your friends where she is, she appears with her own arm patched up similarly to yours, a nurse in tow behind her. "That saves me the trip," Alex jokes, handing off your blood sample to the nurse with a thanks and a promise to buy her lunch before she disappears down a separate hallway. $a_They then turns to face the two detectives with a smile more tight lipped than before. "I'll make sure to get those results to you as soon as possible." Grayson nods and you can visibly see the tension leave his body. "Thank you," he says softly, earnestly and you can't help but smile. Maybe things won't be as bad between him and Alex after all. Turning to you, Alex nudges you softly with $a_their elbow. "Don't be a stranger, okay?" "Promise," you reply and with the formalities finally over, a moment of silence settles over the group, edging into awkward and you stand there for a moment, unsure of what comes next. But then your mom, forever your saviour, takes it upon herself and she looks at you, asking if you're ready to go. With a nod on your part, she thanks Alex again and takes your hand before leading you towards the exit. You wave at $a_them over your shoulder and you manage to catch the last of $a_their smile before you're walking through the doors. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-18'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Standing in the parking lot, your mom begins to move in the direction of her car but you feel hesitant to follow when you look at Grayson. The detective has walked off in the direction of her vehicle and your best friend watches her go, a strange look on his face that you don't quite know what to make of. He meets your eyes then and he's quick to school his expression into something more neutral, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "You should go with Nora, $name2," he says softly. "I'll see you later." "Where are you going?" you ask, frowning at him. You don't know why you expected him to be by your side the whole time but now knowing that he won't be, you feel something like disappointment blooming within you. "The station," he says and that same annoyance he'd displayed earlier at your apartment rears its head once more. "Kels and I have to meet with the Captain, go over our next step, that kind of thing. I don't think it'll take that long." You nod slowly and he waits a moment in case you say anything else. When you don't, he pulls you into a fierce but quick hug, squeezing you tightly against him before releasing you all too soon. He then walks back to his car without sparing you a second glance. You heave a sigh and turn away, Kennedy smiling at you and reaching for your hand again as the two of you follow after your mother. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-19'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The restaurant is as busy as you remember it being; packed with people, the air filled with laughter and conversations, and the comforting scent of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee. Your stomach grumbles and you're reminded that you still have yet to eat today, having walked out on the breakfast your mom had prepared, but more than you want to eat, your fingers twitch with the need to help out. If only you hadn't been sentenced to woefully sitting at the counter, doing nothing. "Mom, do I really have to just sit here?" you ask her as she returns to her spot behind the counter, refilling the coffee pot and putting it back on to brew. "I know it's been awhile but I do still remember how to wait tables." She settles her hands on her hips and fixes you with a stern look that only a mother could perfect. "I'm sure you do, $name, but I already said no." "Please!" You slump against the counter as you beg. You can understand her hesitance to let you help but you know she could use it - there's not an open seat left in the building and you see some people getting impatient - you just need to find a way to convince her. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Back me up, Kennedy,\" you say, nudging the woman sitting beside you.</div>' '4-20'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Kennedy is quick to shake her head despite the sympathetic smile she offers you. "Don't bring me into this, please," she says with a quiet laugh. "I'm fine just sitting here with my tea and pastry." "Traitor," you mutter with a shake of your head and she laughs again into her mug. Your turn your attention back to you mom when you hear her sigh. "$name, I don't want you to worry about it," she says. "Cal and the others have got it covered." As if they'd heard your prayers, your sibling suddenly appears, setting a stack of waffles in front of the man sitting next to Kennedy. "Actually, mom," they interrupt, coming to stand next to her. "Tina and David are both out with the flu so we really could use $name's help." You throw your fists in the air, a triumphant //"Yes!"// leaving your lips and miraculously, your mother laughs. "Fine," she concedes with another sigh. "But you're staying behind the counter with me. There should be a spare apron in my office." Before she's even finished, you've jumped off the barstool you'd been sitting on and run around the counter to throw your arms around her. "Thank you, mom!" you say and she laughs again, hugging you back tightly. You meet your siblings eyes over her shoulder and grin at them. "Thanks, Cal." They wink at you before getting back to work and you pull yourself away from your mom. You press a chaste kiss to her cheek before you practically sprint to her office in the back. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '4-21'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

It doesn't take you very long to find the apron in question, quickly slipping it on and with some digging in the desk drawer, you even manage to find your old name tag. Securing the tag to your chest, you take a deep breath, finally feeling some normal seep back into your life. It's been a few years since you'd worked a shift here and a lot has changed since then, the restaurants very own name now being yours was the most jarring, but you suddenly feel like you can conquer the world. You take another deep breath and smooth down your apron before you walk out of your mother's office with your head held high. As you approach the dining room, however, you feel a strange new tension in the air and despite the idle chatter of the customers, you can't help but think that the restaurant is suddenly oddly silent. "Now, this isn't exactly the warm welcome I was expecting," you hear a voice say and the familiar sound rouses something within that you don't quite understand. Frowning, you round the corner ready to ask what's going on when you stop in your tracks, your eyes widening in shock. There, standing in the door way with his hands in his jackets pockets, he wears a strangely soft smile on his face and you're speaking before you even realise it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Dad?\"⚡</div>' '4-22-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Demetri?\"⚡</div>' '4-22-2'>><<set $demetri to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental + 5, 0, 100)>>Dark eyes find yours and the smile on your father's face, a strange mirror of your own, widens slighty at the sight of you. He doesn't say anything to you though, and instead turns back to your mother. "What's the matter, Nora?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "You don't look too happy to see me." Her mouth falls open but nothing manages to come out and she simply stares at him with wide eyes. "Cat got your tongue?" He walks up to the counter, his tall and intimidating frame coming to stand before you and he turns his gaze to you, that same smile a permanent fixture on his face. "Daddy's home." <center><h1>END OF DEMO</h1></center>

<<set $mental to Math.clamp($mental - 15, 0, 100)>>Dark eyes find yours and though he arches an eyebrow up at you, the smile on your father's face, a strange mirror of your own, widens slighty at the sight of you. "I thought we were closer than that, $name." Without waiting for your response, he turns back to your mother. "What's the matter, Nora?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "You don't look too happy to see me." Her mouth falls open but nothing manages to come out and she simply stares at him with wide eyes. "Cat got your tongue?" He walks up to the counter, his tall and intimidating frame coming to stand before you and he turns his gaze to you, that same smile a permanent fixture on his face. "Daddy's home." <center><h1>END OF DEMO</h1></center>

You do as asked and he climbs onto the bed beside you, finding yourself laying face to face with him. Despite there being ample space in your double bed, he does his best to make himself as small as possible; which, obviously, doesn't exactly work out as he planned, given his size. Laughing quietly to yourself, you shuffle even closer to him and curl into his chest. The silence settles over the two of you like a blanket, comfortable and warm, but you can't help catching sight of the conflicting emotions flashing his face. You open your mouth, a question of 'what's wrong?' ready to roll off your tongue, when he moves, his actions halting you in your tracks. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight against him. //"I've missed you so fucking much."// His words are mumbled into your shoulder but you don't miss a thing he says. And if it'll keep the tears out of his eyes and the crack out of his voice, you won't ever again. "I missed you too," you say. You know that the length of time between when you last saw each other differs between the two of you, but it doesn't matter. Every second you spend away from him is a second too long. Perhaps that makes you crazy or obsessed or dependent on him - perhaps all three - you don't care. You'd never broach the topice with him but you get the feeling that Grayson feels that way too. No more words are spoken on the matter. His arms remain closed around you, your face pressed against his chest. The soft wool of his sweater cushions your cheek and his cologne washes over you, filling and intoxicating your senses, leaving you wanting more. It's not a scent you're familiar with but you think that it matches him perfectly; rich and earthy, a smell of trees and nature and freedom. It comforts and relaxes you, and you (semi-unconsciously) snuggle even closer to him. You're both still fully dressed and the light's still on but you're too far gone to do anything about either of those, and it's not long before you find yourself drifting off to sleep. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Morning comes too soon</div>' 'nora grayson cuddle 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the warmth that rolls off Grayson's body and his arms that still encompass you, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and a thin, fluffy blanket is draped over the two of you; you figure your mom had come in last night and done both for you. A twinge of embarassment shoots through you at being caught with Gray like this but you tell yourself not to worry about it too much. Or you force yourself to, rather. You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and you figure your mom must've come in last night and turned it off for you. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. The house is quiet and you figure that everyone else is still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You extricate yourself from Grayson as carefully as you can, not wanting to wake him up. Though your precautions are unnecessary - you'd briefly forgotten his ability to sleep like the dead - and you end up climbing over him, stretching your stiff limbs and biting back a curse as the cold morning air hits you full force. The house is quiet and you figure that your mom and Callie are both still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you shuffle out of your room and make your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson cuddle 2'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You laugh as you roll over onto your side and watch as he kneels on the floor, unboxing the mattress. His blue eyes flick up towards you and small smile unfolds on his face. "Just gonna lay there and watch me, huh?" He asks, unfolding the mattress on the expanse on your bedroom floor. You purse your lips at him. "It's self inflating," you reply. "There's not much else for me to do here." He shakes his head, his smile growing slightly as the mattress begins to inflate. //"Zboczeniec,"// he says softly to himself though still loud enough for you to hear. You narrow your eyes at him. "I don't know what that means but I don't like the sound of it." "It means 'my wonderful best friend'." "Liar!" You grab a pillow and throw it at him, though he easily catches it. Laughing, he stands up and clutches the pillow to his chest. "This is mine now," he says before dropping it down on the mattress, which is almost fully inflated. He then gestures to your clothes. "Do you plan on sleeping in that?" You shrug as you sit up, crossing you legs beneath you. "Don't exactly have anything else," you say. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Before you can continue, you get hit in the face by his balled up sweater.</div>' 'nora grayson sweater 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You pull the article of clothing off your head just in time to see him toss his jeans in the corner of the room. Now standing in his shirt, boxers and socks, he lays down on the mattress, stretching across the length of it, his feet and most of his calves hanging off the end. He folds his hands under his head, making use of the pillow you threw at him. "Use that," he says, nodding towards the sweater in your hands. "Or don't. But it'll probably be a lot more comfortable." "Oh, my hero." You press the back of your hand against your forehead as you look up toward the ceiling. "Whatever would I do without you?" "Give it back then." "No way," you say, clutching the sweater to your chest as you climb off the bed and he shakes his head at you in amusement. "Look away," you add and he dutifully slaps a hand over his eyes. Chuckling quietly to yourself, you strip out of your clothes and slip on his sweater before climbing under the covers. Hearing the shuffle of sheets, he removes his hand, glancing at you briefly before reaching for the blanket he brought with him. You wait for him to get settled before flicking off the lamp. The silence settles over you and it stays that way for a long time. You start to think that he's fallen asleep when he speaks. "I'm really glad you're home, $name," he says softly, almost more to himself than to you. "I missed you so, //so// much." You're not sure what to say in response. You don't think there is anything //to// say. It's all too confusing; the length of time between when you last saw each other differs between the two of you. A couple of hours is laughable in comparison to ten years. That's not really something you can overlook. You roll over to face the wall and say the only thing you can think of. "Goodnight, Gray." He doesn't respond immediately and for a moment you think he never will, but he does eventually. Just as you're beginning to drift off, you hear it; the words more distant and sad than you think they should be. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Goodnight, $name."</div>' 'nora grayson sweater 2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Morning comes too soon. You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and when you glance over your shoulder at the bedside table, two mugs of what is now cold tea sitting on the edge, you figure your mom had come in last night and turned it off for you and you smile to yourself. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. Grayson is still asleep; curled in on himself with the blankets pulled almost over his eyes, you'd briefly forgotten his ability to sleep like the dead. The rest house is quiet and you figure that your mom and Callie are both still fast asleep as well. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom as silently as you can, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get hot, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that proves to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk grayson sweater 3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wake, cold and shivering despite the thick duvet, and squint at the weak sunlight pouring in through the open curtains. The lamp is off and you figure your mom must've come in last night and turned it off for you. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and curse quietly as the cold morning air hits your bare skin. The house is quiet and you figure that everyone else is still fast asleep. You still feel tired yourself but you know that going back to sleep is a feat you'd be unable to accomplish, and so with half-lidded eyes, you scoop up your discarded clothes from the day before and leave your bedroom, making your way towards the bathroom you used to share with Callie. You dump the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and turn on the hot water tap in the shower. While waiting for the water to get, you turn to the mirror above the sink, facing your reflection with furrowed eyebrows and a frown on your lips. Eyeing your reflection, you'd never have guessed that ten years passed you by in a mere blink. You still look as you did yesterday and the day before that. But the proof lies all around you - Callie's taller, Grayson's more mature, the spitting image of his father, your mom is a lot more grey - it's everywhere, except for the lines of your face. Once again your $eye eyes rake over your reflection and again you find no changes, which confuses you further. You're determined to find something, //anything// that prove to you that this is real and not some unforgiving nightmare. You start at the top. Your hair is the same as it's always been: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'callie talk 3-10-3'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He turns suddenly, facing your mother head on as he comes up to stand behind you, one hand settled on Callie's shoulder and the other on yours, the weight of it like cement. "Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to see my family?" "A little..." Callie mumbles, glancing up at him briefly before looking back at your mother, a wide eyed and fearful look on their face. Your mother clicks her tongue in annoyance. "You can't just disappear for twenty years and then waltz back in here like nothing has changed." "Has it really been that long?" Looking away from her and down at you, a smile stretches across his face. "You're looking well, $name<<if $transman is true>>, you've changed so much<</if>><<if $transwoman is true>>, you've changed so much<</if>>. And Callista! Look how you've grown." "Don't!" Your mom snaps and he drags his eyes away from your sibling's face to look at her once more. He's unfazed by the venom in her voice, by the anger rolling off of her in waves so thick you're practically drowning in it. "You don't get to come in here and start acting like a father. As far as I'm concerned, that man died a long time ago.” He whistles, a hurt expression taking shape on his face that for a moment you think is genuine before you notice the twitch of his lips, a new teasing smile he doesn't bother hiding. "Cutthroat, Nora. And here I thought you loved me." She bristles at that and you wince, waiting for the damn to break and for all the things she's been wanting to say to him for the past twenty years to finally make their way out in the open. "I did... but not anymore." You take in a quick, sharp breath, slightly confused by the sudden calmness she displays as you sink back in your seat. "I'm not going to ask you again, Demetri." "My answer hasn't changed," he says with a simple shrug of his shoulders. "I meant what I said." "I don't believe you." They look at each for a long moment before she takes a deep breath. "Get out." "Okay." He removes his hand and you look back at him in surprise as he steps away from you. "But I'm here to stay, I promise." With those few words, her anger comes back in full force and she slams her hands down on the desk. "Get out!" <<nobr>>You watch him walk out the door and your throat closes in on itself until it's impossible to breathe. You're a child once more, transported back to that fateful day he left you behind, and you feel as though the hole in your chest has been torn open that much wider. The only difference is that now you know why he's leaving. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Before you know it, you\'re on your feet, chasing after him.</div>' '5-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You catch up with him in the restaurant front where he now stands in front of Grayson and the detective, the surprise on your best friend's face mirroring that of your own almost an hour ago. "Grayson!" Your father claps a hand on his shoulder, his tone of voice overly cheerful for the conversation that just transpired in your mother's office. "My, look how tall you've grown." Grayson stares back at him with wide, blue eyes. "Mr. Renfield?" "And who is this... //dazzling// woman by your side?" He says then, turning to Kelsey. "Your wife?" The detective glares at him, a fire in her eyes that you're all too familair with. "//Work// partners," she grumbles at him, her arms crossed over her chest. <<nobr>>"//Charmed//," he replies with a raised eyebrow at her before he looks back to Grayson. "Tell Katarzyna I said hello." Stepping around your best friend, he makes for the door without another word and Grayson meets your eyes, a confused look on his face. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">follow after him</div>' '5-3-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">let him go</div>' '5-3-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

By the time you've caught up to him in the parking lot, he's about to climb into his car; a 1970's corvette painted a striking blue that would've made you double take if you weren't so preoccupied with the man about it to drive it away. <<if $demetri is true>>"Demetri, wait!"<</if>><<if $demetri is false>>"Dad, wait!"<</if>> He stops, halfway in the car and looks over his shoulder to flash you that signature smile of his. "I wish I could stay and chat, $name, but you heard your mother." You huff, annoyed at your mother for banishing him from the restaurant and at him for leaving in the first place. How different would your life be now if he'd chosen to stay? "Where are you going?" His smile widens slightly, and you can't help but feel slightly unnerved by it, a shiver running down your spine. His face is the same, if only weathered by the years he spent away, but the curl of his lips is all different, no match for the loving smile he bestowed upon twelve-year-old you. Now, it's just downright eerie. "Don't worry," he tells you and you frown at him. "We'll be seeing each other very soon." He doesn't say more than that, simply sliding into the drivers seat and driving away without sparing you even one last glance. And you hate him for it. With a heavy sigh, you turn on your feet and make for the restaurant once more, your eyes landing on Grayson standing in the doorway with his own eyes on your father's disappearing car and his right hand resting awfully close to the gun holstered at his hip. He looks at you when you come to stand in front of him and his eyebrows draw close to each other in an expression of concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, the answer so far from yes at this point that it's comical to ask. "I don't know," you tell him and you really don't. How is anyone supposed to feel in a situation like this? He nods, seemingly as if he understands and feels just as conflicted in his emotions as you do, before a more analytical look forms on his face. "Think it's a coincidence that he's come back the same time as you?" <<nobr>>Frowing, you glance over your shoulder to where the two of you stood just moments ago, the blue corvette separating you from him, as if some clue or answer to all of your questions will magically appear. Somehow, you're disappointed when there's still nothing there. "I don't know what to think," you reply, sighing once again. You look back at him then, a brief second of eye contact shared between the two of you before you're stepping past him and into the restaurant. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '5-3-1a'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

No one stops him but you all watch as the doors shut behind him, a strange silence descending over the restaurant in light of his absence. Grayson is the first to move, taking a seat at the counter where he buries his face in his hands with a soft groan and Kennedy, sitting next to him, lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Renfield," the detective says, musing outloud with her sharp eyes still trained on the door as if expecting him to walk back in. "Where do I know that name from?" "Me," you say and she turns around, giving you her full focus which would almost be enough to make your knees buckle if you weren't already weighed down by exhaustion. "It's my dad's name." She arches an eyebrow up at you, clear surprise on her face at the mention of the patriarch of your small, broken family. "Where's he been all this time?" She asks, her question probing into a new and uncomfortable territory. "I don't know." You lean your hip against the counter, your eyes flicking across the restaurant. It's mostly empty now, your mother having cleared out the majority of customers who weren't already in the middle of eating. Paired with the sudden heaviness in the air, it's a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere from an hour ago. <<nobr>>The detective scoffs and you look back at her to find her watching you with narrowed eyes. "Of course," she chides, her hands settling on her hips as her mood shifts from only slightly annoyed to downright pissed off. "Why am I not surprised?" <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Kelsey,\" Grayson groans again, his tone reprimanding.</div>' '5-3-2b'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Back inside, you find everyone exactly where you left them; Kennedy sitting at the bar, innocently drinking her tea, and the detective standing somewhat in the middle of the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Grayson goes to take a seat at the counter where he buries his face in his hands with a soft groan and Kennedy, sitting next to him, lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Renfield," the detective says, musing outloud with her sharp eyes still trained on the door as if expecting him to walk back in. "Where do I know that name from?" "Me," you say and she turns around, giving you her full focus which would almost be enough to make your knees buckle if you weren't already weighed down by exhaustion. "It's my dad's name." She arches an eyebrow up at you, clear surprise on her face at the mention of the patriarch of your small, broken family. "Where's he been all this time?" She asks, her question probing into a new and uncomfortable territory. "I don't know." You lean your hip against the counter, your eyes flicking across the restaurant. It's mostly empty now, your mother having cleared out the majority of customers who weren't already in the middle of eating. Paired with the sudden heaviness in the air, it's a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere from an hour ago. <<nobr>>The detective scoffs and you look back at her to find her watching you with narrowed eyes. "Of course," she chides, her hands settling on her hips as her mood shifts from only slightly annoyed to downright pissed off. "Why am I not surprised?" <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Kelsey,\" Grayson groans again, his tone reprimanding.</div>' '5-3-2b'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She doesn't respond, simply rolling her eyes before pulling something from her back pocket. She reaches out, offering it to you and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Taking it from her, you realise it's a flip phone. "Until you get a better one," she grumbles as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Is that a burner phone?" Kennedy asks, a slight hint of excitement and intrigue in her voice, as you turn the phone over in your hands, a frown on your face. The other woman nods. "Used to belong to drug dealer." "But we've wiped it clean, and it's got a new sim, so there's no need to worry," Grayson says, quickly butting in with wide blue eyes. Kelsey rolls her eyes again but there's an uncharacteristically genuine smile on her face as she looks at your best friend. "Detective Dork over here already put in everyone's numbers for you." Grayson grumbles to himself but you ignore him momentarily, keeping your focus on the detective. "What happened to my old phone?" you ask her, remembering the distinct moment from the day before when you had to hand it in as evidence. She arches an eyebrow at you, her smile gone the moment she's looking back at you. "You mean your shitty old blackberry?" She scoffs. "The thing was fried, we couldn't get it back on." You frown again and look back down at the flip phone in your hands. The thing as is basic as it gets, used only for calls and the occasional text message, a far cry from what you're used to, but you suppose it will have to do for the time being. After a brief moment of silence, the detective clears her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "If we're done here, I'm going to the precinct." "What for?" Grayson asks, now wearing a confused frown that seems to have made itself home on his face. He stares at his partner imploringly but she doesn't reply, choosing instead to walk out the restaurant with nothing more than a flick of her dark hair. <<nobr>>"Is she always like that?" you ask and Grayson heaves a sigh as he drags a hand over his face. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"You get used to it,\" he replies.</div>' '5-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Callie suddenly reappears then with a sigh, pulling off their apron as they come to stand next to the counter. "I don't think mom's coming back out any time soon," they say before a sly smile takes shape on their lips. "Guess that means we're closing early! Thank god; I don't think I could continue working after //that//." They turn to you then, their smile widening. "Don't worry, I'll clear the last of the tables." They step around you, making their way to the nearest table and you look back at your friends. "Guess we need to find something else to do," you say, glancing around the restaurant as the last few customers begin making their moves to leave. There's still plenty daylight left, the hands of the clock on the far wall edging into early afternoon, it's only a matter of figuring out how to spend that time. "I should probably swing past the office," Kennedy says, finishing off the last of her tea. <<nobr>><<if $nickname is true>>Grayson turns his attention to you, his chin resting in his hands, and there's a certain tiredness on his face that you think goes a lot deeper than simply needing to sleep. "What are you thinking, $name2?" He asks and you take a moment to truly think about it.<</if>><<if $nickname is false>>Grayson turns his attention to you, his chin resting in his hands, and there's a certain tiredness on his face that you think goes a lot deeper than simply needing to sleep. "What are you thinking, $name?" He asks and you take a moment to truly think about it.<</if>> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I want to go with Kennedy.\"</div>' '5-5a'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I want to go see Alex.\" </div>' '5-5b'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I\'ll stay with Callie.\" </div>' '5-5c'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"I think I just want to go home.\" </div>' '5-5d'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise and you can't really figure out why. Is it so shocking that you want to spend time with her? You don't imagine it would be any different from all the times the two of you hung out in the past but there's an uncertainty that you can't get rid of. Too much separates the things that you know and the things that are now reality. "Are you sure?" she asks. "I'm just going to be grading papers the whole time." "I'm sure," you tell her, nodding quickly and a smile blooms on her face. "Alright, but if you get bored; you're not allowed to blame me." Chuckling, she stands up and grabs her coat, shrugging it on before turning to Grayson. "My car's still at your apartment; do you mind giving us a ride?" "Yeah." He sits up straighter, a brief look of surprise flashing across across his face as if he wasn't expecting to be addressed directly, before he shakes it off and stands up. "Of course, yeah." <<nobr>>He starts for the door and Kennedy reaches out, wanting to take your hand in hers and you let her. With a final wave to Callie over your shoulder, you follow her and Grayson out to the parking lot. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'kennedy 5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Grayson sighs heavily, so heavily it's almost as if he's been carrying the weight of the world on those broad shoulders of his for way too long and now he's too tired to carry on. "$name," he says and by the exasperation evident in his voice, you think you know where this is going to go. Only, you're not exactly willing to let it get there. "I know you're not $a_their biggest fan," you start, cutting him off before he can say anything else and he raises his eyebrows at you, curious about where you're about to take this. "But $a_they wouldn't let anything bad happen to me." "I don't know," he replies, uncertain, before dragging a hand down his face. <<nobr>>"I'll be fine." You reach out to squeeze his shoulder, hoping to convince him simply through that small gesture alone. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Promise.\"</div>' '-5b1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">\"Actually, why don\'t you come with me?\" </div>' '-5b2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

As if summoned by the mention of their name, they reappear behind you, making you jump slightly when they speak. "You can if you want," they tell you as they wipe their hands on a dish towel. "But Shin and I have plans to go out later." You vaguely remember meeting Shin, your sibling's best friend, years ago when they first started highschool. They'd brought him to the restaurant after school one day, introducing him only vaguely as their friend and demanding that neither you nor your mother ask any questions before whisking him off to a booth in the farthest corner to work on homework. You hardly ever saw him - Callie refusing to bring him over in fear of either of you embarassing them - but they made mention of him often, whether in passing or whenever you pried them for the details about their social life. Hearing his name now, you're glad their friendship has stood the test of time. "Can I come?" You ask, the question making it's way out in the open without you even thinking what might come of it. Callie blinks at you in surprise before that sly smile of theirs makes a comeback. "//You// want to go clubbing?" They cross their arms over their chest, rocking on the soles of their feet as they tease you. "Think you can keep up with us, oldie?" You roll your eyes with a scoff, your mind flicking back to every college party and bar crawl, every rave and all the random nights spent drinking when you should've been studying. You had to be carried home more than once by Grayson but you've learnt to hold your liquor since and though you're not exactly a party animal, you know there's at least //some// potential for fun. "I think I'll manage," you respond, your tone dry. Giving you a once over, they chew on their bottom lip and shake their head. "Not dressed like that, you won't." They walk off to clear the last table without saying anything else and you turn to your friends, somewhat concerned with what your sibling has in store for you. Meeting your eyes, Grayson chuckles softly. <<if $nickname is false>>"Good luck with that, $name," he says and you raise an eyebrow at him.<</if>><<if $nickname is true>>"Good luck with that, $name2," he says and you raise an eyebrow at him.<</if>> "You don't want to come?" You ask, somewhat hopeful he'll say he does and disappointed when he shakes his head. "Not really my scene any more." He stands up then and shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, looking anywhere but your face for a moment. "I think you and Cal could use the time together, I know it's been... //rough// for them lately." You blink, confused at his choice of words and omittance of others, but he doesn't let you dwell on it for long before he's speaking again. "I'll see you at home though; call me if you need anything." Kennedy quickly jumps to her feet and grabs her coat, shrugging it on as she turns to Grayson. "My car's still at your apartment; do you mind dropping me off?" "Not at all," he replies and you can't help notice there's certain restraint in his voice, as if there's more he wants to say but chooses not to. Once again, you don't have time to question it as he walks out the door and to his car, Kennedy giving you a quick hug goodbye before running after him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' '-5c1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He nods, quietly breathing a sigh of relief to himself that makes you have to stifle a laugh. "That's fine with me," he says, standing up and giving you an easy smile that almost makes him look younger, like the Grayson you're more familiar with. Kennedy quickly jumps to her feet and grabs her coat, shrugging it on as she turns to Grayson. "My car's still at your apartment; do you mind giving me a ride?" <<nobr>>"Not at all," he replies and he walks towards the door with a certain bounce in his step. He holds the door open for the two and you share an amused look with Kennedy at his eagerness to leave. With a final wave to Callie over your shoulder, you follow Grayson and Kennedy out to the parking lot. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' 'grayson 5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

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He looks at you for a long moment before slowly nodding his head. "Okay," he says, standing up and giving you a tight lipped smile. "Yeah, I'll drop you off." Kennedy quickly jumps to her feet and grabs her coat, shrugging it on as she turns to Grayson. "My car's still at your apartment; do you mind giving me a ride?" "Not at all," he replies and you can't help notice there's certain restraint in his voice, as if there's more he wants to say but chooses not to. You do your best to ignore it though and focus instead on seeing Alex again. Despite having not seen or thought of $a_them for years, being back in $a_their presence today simply reaffirmed all the reasons you got together in the first place. In all honesty, you're surprised you were even able to make it this long without $a_their charm and carefree nature putting you at ease. <<nobr>>With a final wave to Callie over your shoulder, you follow Grayson and Kennedy out to the parking lot. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' 'alex 5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He blinks in surprise, clearly taken aback by the offer before attempting to school his expression into something more neutral. "Really?" he asks and you have to stifle a laugh at his reaction. "Don't act so surprised," you say, jokingly rolling your eyes. "I like hanging out with both of you." He begins to frown and you can tell exactly where his thoughts have gone: the last three years of high-school, when you were dating Alex and Grayson had to third-wheel the two of you. That coupled with all the teasing from your then partner doesn't exactly amount to a fun time for him so you jump to reassure him. "You don't have anything to worry about; $a_they promised to play nice." He looks at you for a long moment before slowly nodding his head, a soft sigh escaping him that you'd have missed if you weren't paying attention. "Okay," he says, standing up and giving you a tight lipped smile. "Let's go." Kennedy quickly jumps to her feet and grabs her coat, shrugging it on as she turns to Grayson. "My car's still at your apartment; do you mind dropping me off?" "Not at all," he replies and you can't help notice there's certain restraint in his voice, as if there's more he wants to say but chooses not to. You do your best to ignore it though and focus instead on seeing Alex again. Despite having not seen or thought of $a_them for years, being back in $a_their presence today simply reaffirmed all the reasons you got together in the first place. In all honesty, you're surprised you were even able to make it this long without $a_their charm and carefree nature putting you at easy. <<nobr>>With a final wave to Callie over your shoulder, you follow Grayson and Kennedy out to the parking lot. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">next</div>' 'gralex 5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your eyes flick upward to your reflection, intended as a glance, a quick once over to make sure you still look some what presentable, when you stop, your gaze lingering as your stomach knots with dread. The lights overhead flicker, its once barely perceptible buzzing growing loud enough to drown out the muffled music pouring in from the club, and your mouth falls open as you watch your reflection change. The mirrored image of your face twists and distorts, $eye_colour eyes dissolving into inky blackness and a deranged smile stretching across cracked, bloody lips, $skin_colour skin stretching and pulling taut across your bone structure. Resembling more abomination than human, it raise its hands, clawed and skeletal, and you stumble back when the mirror ripples, fingertips stained in crimson emerging through the glass and reaching out for you. You remain frozen, watching in both horror and morbid curiosity as this nightmarish version of you climbs through the molten glass. A part of you is tempted to see what becomes of it but when you hear a guttural screech escape its gaping maw, teeth sharp as razors dripping in ichor, you do the only thing you can think of and you run.

You turn around to face your sibling and they clap their hands together as they approach. "Right! //$name's Place// is officially closed," they say with a wide smile as they gesture to the empty restaurant. "Let the tomfoolery begin." You cross your arms over your chest, furrowing your eyebrows as you can't help but latch onto the restaurant's name. Or rather, it's //new// name. "You know, I've been meaning to ask --" "We don't have time for your frivolous questions," they say quickly, waving you off with one hand as they pull their phone out of their back pocket with the other. Though, judging by the size of it, you think a brick is a better descriptor for the thing. "You need new clothes because I refuse to be seen out in public with you as you are now." "Hey!" You say, offended, as you glance down at your clothes. You're well aware that fashion trends were bound to have changed over the course of your disappearance but you hadn't thought they were //that// bad when you got dressed this morning. Their $eye eyes flick up to meet yours, a deadpan look on their face as they give you a once-over. "$name, you're literally wearing clothes that haven't seen the light of day in a decade," they say, their words matter-of-fact. They tilt their head to the side, analysing you once more. <<if $outift_7 is true>>"Although now that I think about it; you'd blend in pretty well." You nod, vindicated in your outfit choice, and shift your weight from one foot to the other. "What's the problem then?" "Well, I guess nothing," they say with a shrug and a mischievous smile. "I still think we should go shopping though."<</if>><<if $outift_1 is true>>"Plus, you look like a member of a D-list boy band from the early 2000's that still tries to be relevant despite no one caring about them anymore." "Harsh, Cal," you mumble, taken aback slightly by the insult and even more offended than you were just moments before. Perhaps it's a bad idea to go with them after all. "Doesn't make it any less true," they say, rolling their eyes as they look between you and their phone. "Just let me take you shopping. It'll be fun, I swear."<</if>><<if $outift_2 is true>>"You look like you're about to climb into a clown car and join a three ring circus." "Harsh, Cal," you mumble, taken aback slightly by the insult and even more offended than you were just moments before. Perhaps it's a bad idea to go with them after all. "Doesn't make it any less true," they say, rolling their eyes as they look between you and their phone. "Just let me take you shopping. It'll be fun, I swear."<</if>><<if $outift_3 is true>>"Plus, your outift looks like it was picked out by blind, Christian conservatives." "Harsh, Cal," you mumble, taken aback slightly by the oddly specific insult and even more offended than you were just moments before. Perhaps it's a bad idea to go with them after all. "Doesn't make it any less true," they say, rolling their eyes as they look between you and their phone. "Just let me take you shopping. It'll be fun, I swear."<</if>><<if $outift_4 is true>>"Plus, your outift looks like it was picked out by blind, Christian conservatives." "Harsh, Cal," you mumble, taken aback slightly by the insult and even more offended than you were just moments before. Perhaps it's a bad idea to go with them after all. "Doesn't make it any less true," they say, rolling their eyes as they look between you and their phone. "Just let me take you shopping. It'll be fun, I swear."<</if>><<if $outift_5 is true>>"Plus, you look like a suburban dad that's weirdly obsessed with //The Big Bang Theory//." "Harsh, Cal," you mumble, taken aback slightly by the insult and even more offended than you were just moments before. Perhaps it's a bad idea to go with them after all. "Doesn't make it any less true," they say, rolling their eyes as they look between you and their phone. "Just let me take you shopping. It'll be fun, I swear."<</if>><<if $outift_5 is true>>"Although, now that I think about it; you're halfway there to a decent outfit." You nod, somewhat vindicated in your outfit choice, and shift your weight from one foot to the other. "Alright, how do I get the rest of the way there?" "Let me take you shopping," they say with a shrug and a mischievous smile.<</if>><<if $outift_8 is true>>"Although, now that I think about it; you're halfway there to a decent outfit." You nod, somewhat vindicated in your outfit choice, and shift your weight from one foot to the other. "Alright, how do I get the rest of the way there?" "Let me take you shopping," they say with a shrug and a mischievous smile.<</if>> You heave a sigh. //There's no getting out of this, is there?// "Fine," you relent and their face lights up as they begin to rapidly type on their phone. "But you're paying. That trip to grocery store yesterday almost bankrupted me." Callie snorts as they pocket their phone once more to sling an arm aroudn your shoulders. "Inflation will do that to you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'callie 5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

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mirror mine

mirror mine is a sci-fi mystery interactive novel that contains certain elements of the horror genre. it will contain depictions of violence, graphic language and other adult content. reader discretion is advised.

show me the warning list.

take me to the story.