Work Text
Chapter 1: The Game Begins
12:55pm
Today isn't Lance's lucky day.
Just a few minutes ago, he sat in a metal seat that pressed against his butt bone. His knees jammed under the desk.
Now he faces off with a guy who reeks of ink. Lance knows this will get ugly, but this guy craves action, and Lance will deliver. He tightens his fists as adrenaline swarms through his veins.
Lance bites his lips, eyes twitching.
What the hell is this guy’s problem? It’s like he’s
dying
to get another hit or something. Well, he’s barked up the wrong tree, that’s for sure.
Before he can speak, he feels a strong hand on his chest. Lance turns to the hand’s owner: their supervisor, Mr. Shirogane.
A frown settles on Mr. Shirogane’s face as his dark eyes pierce Lance’s. The boy shivers, his face sinking as they share a look, but he doesn’t retreat.
Mr. Shirogane turns his gaze to the other guy. However, Lance’s adversary doesn’t flinch. Mr. Shirogane grunts. “Both of you, stop right now.”
Lance growls, eyes rolling. “This guy wants to get rowdy, so I got rowdy with him.”
“More like
you
got your panties in a twist,” the other boy jabs.
Lance grimaces, turning back to him. “Oh, look who’s talking. Did
you
forget
why
we’re here in the first place?”
“
I'm
here for my own reasons. You just want to start shit.”
“Shut up! Like hell I’ll let a loose cannon like you lecture me!”
“
Enough!
” Both boys whip their attention to Mr. Shirogane.
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Mr. Shirogane points to a desk. “Lance, you sit over in that corner, and Keith, you return to where you were.”
Lance’s cold stare lingers on Keith before he turns away. He glances around the room, clasping his clammy hands. Desks and chairs scatter across the stale carpet. Up ahead lies a fort of desks. He spots someone between the small openings.
In silence, Lance drags his worn sneakers across the floor. He lounges on his chair. His eyes land on Mr. Shirogane, who mutters something to Keith. His violet eyes glare at the floor.
Lance hates that he quivers in his seat. He tears his eyes away and focuses on the ticking clock.
He’s been held hostage for twenty minutes. Lance groans, closing his eyes.
Time is supposed to fly with drama, but for Lance, the minute hand on the clock is stuck.
-
11: 25am
The sun scorched Miami-- perfect for popsicles and salty beaches. The students of Garrison High School thirst for the end of the day, itching to leave...
The sun rays hammer Lance’s nape as he strolls in the crowded outdoor hall. He swipes through songs on his phone, scrolling for the right one for this upcoming talent show.
Homecoming is only three weeks away, and everyone is trying to prepare. First comes the football game, then the school talent show, and then the big dance.
Lance’s nerves bundle into a ball. His palms collect sweat, and it’s not from the sun. Still, he smiles brightly. His long fingers comb through his auburn hair, fixing his short bangs.
He struts through crowds of students. He displays his pearly whites or a quick wink for each girl he comes across. Of course, the ladies giggle to themselves. To Lance, this
definitely
is a good sign.
Lance halts when a sweet scent hits his nose. He inhales a great whiff.
Chocolate, cinnamon, cookies?
He tracks the lovely aroma until he finds the food stall. His smile thins when his eyes land on Hunk Garrett. The guy pushes his tiny cart of goods with his lady friend, Shay. Both of them in their own world, giggling.
Lance huffs and proceeds with his trip.
He’s fine without me.
His
words, of course.
Just when Lance turns, his eyes land on none other than Taylor. Her honey-brown curls drift in the wind, framing her sun-kissed face. Lance swoons. She’s coming this way. Lance straightens himself before approaching her.
“Taylor!”
The girl’s eyes land on Lance. Golden flecks flicker like fireworks, and she greets him with a warm smile. “Hi, Lance! It’s nice to see you!”
“It’s nice to see you too!” Sweat forms on his skin. “You did well on broadcasting today!”
Lance beams at the red tint on her cheeks. She chuckles. “Thanks, Lance. I’m glad someone’s paying attention. I thought no one had been watching the school news lately.”
“Well, Taylor.” Lance combs his fingers through his hair. He offers a dazzling grin, showing off his neat white teeth. “Your smile caught my eye. I couldn’t look away from the screen.”
He catches her hazel eyes falling to the floor. Lance spots her hands holding thin, bright yellow ropes. He tilts his head. “What’s with the jump ropes?”
Her eyes widen, glancing at the item. “My friends and I are jump-roping for this year's talent show. I wanted to bust out some moves.”
Lance’s smile spreads. “That’s cool! Hey! Me too! I’m putting my voice to use.”
“What song?”
Lance claps his hands together. “You’ll have to find out.” His head hangs a little as his cheeks burn, smiling. “Do you mind staying when it's my turn?”
Taylor hums. “I don’t know. My friend wanted me to stop by a teacher's office with her.”
Lance nods, and his insides churn. “I understand. Duty first.”
“But I’ll try to attend.”
Pressure instantly vanishes. He nearly cartwheels, but he restrains himself. His grin widens. “Thanks. You won’t regret it.”
Taylor chuckles and checks her watch. Her smile vanishes as her rose-colored lips curl into an O. “Oh my goodness! I have to go!”
Taylor hurries past him; her strawberry perfume lingers in the air. Lance takes a whiff, sighing. He gazes at the girl as she diminishes in the distance and waves. “I wish you the best of luck, Lance!”
Lance huffs, ruffling his hair, grinning. “Trust me. I don’t
need
luck with this impeccable voice!”
He puffs his chest out and slides backward, his eyes glued to Taylor. He spreads his arms out. “I’ll win all the judges’ hearts. They won’t even
think
about rejects--”
He collides with a figure. Lance flinches and whips his head around.
Immediately, the coolness drains from him, only leaving a bitter sensation. His eyes change from alert to annoyed. A snarl forms on his lips as he glares at familiar piercing violet eyes.
Keith Kogane.
Garrison’s biggest rebel and Lance’s number one enemy.
His soot gray shirt peeks through a scarlet red cropped jacket. Skinny dark jeans cling to his legs... Hasn’t he worn this already? Fitting for a guy like him. Always has to kill the mood.
This jerk throws Lance a nasty grunt. Though his large bangs mask his face, thick eyeliner highlights his sharp violet eyes as they glint in the sunlight.
A fluttering sensation boils in his stomach, like a hot spring. Lance
loathes
it with every fiber in his body. He snorts, ignoring the heat. “Watch where you’re going next time,
Mullet
.”
Kogane rolls his eyes but trudges away from the tall boy, grumbling. “Don’t walk backwards in a crowded area,
Idiot
.”
Lance picks up his words and groans. This guy scores the winning points but skips out on the celebrations. He plays his part in a project but doesn't show up for the group meetings. Lance bares his teeth.
This guy hasn’t changed one bit.
He sighs. Now isn’t the time to dwell on that jerk. He needs to prepare for the audition.
Soon, all anger vanishes, and his nerves act up again.
No, no!
He straightens himself and takes a deep breath before heading towards the cafeteria. He can’t mess this up! This audition is too important to fumble. He must win this.
Failure isn’t an option
.
-
“Thanks again, Hunk. You really didn’t have to bake all these yummy treats.”
Hunk and Shay enter the cafeteria. Students wander out while some linger around. Teachers hover near a table on stage, preparing for auditions.
He parks the squeaking cart near the lunch line. Towering over his baked goods, he picks them up and sets them on his counter. Even though he’s shielding the trolley, he feels hungry eyes on him. Shay organizes the treats.
Hunk provides her with a tender smile. “It’s okay. I wanted to. Besides, baking is my specialty.”
Shay giggles and stands in front of his counter. “Well, as your first customer, may I have a cookie?”
Hunk gives her one, winking. “On the house.”
Shay smiles, unwrapping the cookie. The peanut aroma hits both of their noses. She bites into the soft dough. Instantly, her cocoa brown eyes shimmer, and she moans. “Your treats always take my breath away! I bet everyone else will feel the same.”
Hunk notices students prowling around his cart. He scratches his head. “Looks like you’re right.”
“See! I know your bake sale will be a hit!” Shay pecks his cheek with a soft kiss. Her glossy lips imprint a plum-purple mark. Instantly, his cheeks blaze crimson. Shay skips toward the exit. “I’ll see you later. Tell me how the bake sale goes!”
Hunk nods. “I will!” Just as he turns around, five students appear, forming a line. He jolts, scratching his head.
This will be a long day.
-
Lance observes the empty stage. The previous contestant had spun a plate on their fingertips and hopped on one leg while singing,
“I’m a Barbie girl!”
“Next!” He wobbles to his feet, straining his jacket. He stumbles up on stage and stands in front of the microphone. He flinches back when the mic screeches.
Two— wait
four
teachers sit before him with papers on the white table. All dressed in black, fitting the homecoming’s theme. They smile nicely.
What is this, a funeral?
One waves at him. “Hi, introduce yourself.”
Lance clears his throat. “Lance McClain.”
The teacher jots down his name but pauses, their eyes widen. Lance sees the gears turn in the teachers’ heads when they make eye contact. He instantly regrets his introduction.
“Hold on. You said
McClain
, right?”
The question wreaks havoc within him. He sighs. “Yes.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Are you related to Veronica, Marco, Luis, and Rachael?”
Ding Ding Ding!
The golden question. One that Lance never escapes. He wears a small smile. “Yes. I’m their brother—”
“Oh my goodness! I miss those kids!” Teachers gush like children, their smiles gleaming. “They were a blast to be around. Top of the class! They always excelled in their academics, including your brothers.”
However, a small grimace twists on her face. “Do forgive me. Your brothers were a pleasure to teach, but they had some disastrous tricks up their sleeves. Some were difficult to clean up.”
“Don’t fret.” Lance cackles dryly. He waves them off.
“They’re a handful.”
“How are they?”
“They’re doing good.”
“Is Veronica in the Garrison program? I recall her wanting to sign up for that major.”
Lance nods. “Yes, she got into Garrison's astrology classes—”
A cheer erupts from the group of teachers. Lance looks down to his shoes. He can’t help but feel awkward as the teachers gush over his sister’s success. Just like that, he’s forgotten.
Lance knows he should be used to this. His siblings are Garrison’s legends. His eldest sister, Veronica, was a major brainiac who won most of Garrison's science trophies. With her being a student, Garrison University gained another genius. His brothers, Marco and Luis, were admirable soccer players; their trophies shine in the hallway. Crafty bastards they were too, pulling pranks that even janitors couldn't clean up. Last, Garrison's most excellent dancer, his sister, Rachael. Teachers still weep over her graduation.
All their trophies and awards shine in the school’s hall of fame, lighting the school’s pride and hallways.
So, it’s no surprise they made great impressions on everyone here. Now, it’s his turn to impress everyone, and ignite the same pride as his family did.
The teacher wipes a tear as their laughter dies. “Yeah. They were fun to be around. I wish to see them again,” the teacher says with a genuine smile on their face.
Lance feels grim within, and his smile dims. He shrugs off their comments, listening. “So, what type of performance are you doing?”
“Singing.”
“Well good luck and you may begin!”
He grabs the microphone with clammy hands, focusing on the crowd. Wide eyes scatter around the room. No sign of Taylor. Just students and teachers waiting patiently for him to begin. He gulps, his stomach uneasy, and his heart crushed. Still, the show must go on.
His voice starts low and soft before growing. All eyes on him. Sweat piles on his skin, and his hair sticks to his head. He doesn’t realize his foot tapping until he looks down. He fumbles over the lyrics a few times as he spots a few students yawn and a teacher checks their watch.
Unimpressed.
It feels like his body is sinking, and he can’t do anything about it. He wishes someone would throw him a lifeline.
He spots honey brown curls, a watermelon pink dress, and a bright smile in the crowd. Instantly, he recognizes Taylor standing with her friend. Their eyes meet. Everything around him blends into darkness as he’s drawn to her. Like he’s floating back to the surface, his nerves soothe, and a slow smile spreads across his lips. His feet tap along with the rhythm of the song. He leans into the microphone, voice booming. Taylor gives him a thumbs up. Lance feels his heart soar, and his adrenaline pumps, and, like a tidal wave, confidence floods in. As he sings, he stares directly at her.
Everything follows according to plan!
Almost near the chorus—just a few more lines!
Lance halts at the sound of something splatter. He looks down at a cupcake near his foot. More cupcakes land on the stage, then on the red curtains and microphone. He picks up a small piece of icing and brings it to his lips.
Buttercream…
He whips his head toward the audience only to find people launching cupcakes at each other. Food and crud covers all of them.
A rainbow chaos.
His heart drops as the girl of his dreams panics, shielding herself and her friend. They screech and hide underneath the lunch table.
“Excuse me!” One of the teachers rises from their seat, but they are hammered with cupcakes, crumbling on the floor.
Lance’s skin pales, shaking his head. “N-No!”
No— This can’t be happening! He was so close! He planned this performance— he
won’t
allow this setback to ruin his moment!
His heart stammers in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do or how to regain her attention. Turmoil silences his voice and it’s too late to make a sign.
A light bulb pops in his head, but he hesitates.
Would this work?
He’ll probably make a fool of himself. In the corner of his eye, Taylor and her friend crawl toward the cafeteria entrance.
It’s now or never.
Lance drops the mic and yanks his sweater off. Then his shirt… then his pants, shoes, and socks. Lance stands only in his boxers. His heart hammers in his chest, but instead of reaching for his clothes, he
break-dances
. His eyes find Taylor and her friend again. He still doesn’t have their attention. Lance continues to dance, even doing the moonwalk, but he’s invisible.
None of this is working. I need to get closer.
So, he inhales before charging his way in. He ducks, twists, and dodges cupcakes and people.
Just as his hand nearly touches her shoulder, a loud shrill echoes through the room. Two boys knock over a bakery stand, revealing a crying Hunk curled in a ball. The boys wrestle on the cruddy floor.
Black bangs, red cropped jacket?
Keith is on top of James Griffin as his fist plummets into James’ face, not giving Griffin a chance to hit back. James’ friends watch him getting whooped, too scared to intervene.
Soon, more teachers barge into the cafeteria. Mr. Shirogane marches towards the two boys and pulls Keith off of Griffin. Another teacher aids James to his feet, blood dripping from his nose.
Time stops for Lance. All eyes crowd on his bare skin. His heart races with the tense and shocked stares. In the corner of his eyes, he sees people pulling out their phones, aiming them at him.
While Lance regrets stripping, he stands firm in front of his dream girl. Her green shadowy eyes widen and her mouth gapes.
Lance feels his cheeks flush a bright red. He gulps down the lump in his throat and approaches her slowly. “T-Taylor!”
“Lance?!” She shrieks, bringing her hands to her mouth. “W-Why are you--”
“Taylor.” Lance regrets blurting. He takes a deep breath, even though it isn’t effective. He looks up to Taylor’s hazel eyes. He offers her a small smile. “I know everything is a mess, but w-would go to homecoming with me?”
He watches a small frown spread on her face. Lance’s stomach shrivels. “Lance...” Her eyes avert to the ground, her long curls cover her face. “I’m…I’m already going with someone else… I’m sorry.”
Lance watches the girl of his dreams flee the room, her friend comforting her. Laughter erupts in the cafeteria, knocking him over. His fist clenches into a tight ball, his knuckles pale. A blob of cake plops on his shoulder. He sees nothing but phones and fingers pointed at him.
He hears a few clicks from a student nearby. Their hand barely hides their smile. Lance furrows his brows. His blood runs hot. Without hesitation, he snatches a cupcake from someone’s plate and hurls it at the jerk.
BIG mistake.
In slow motion, the cupcake splatters all over Mr. Shirogane’s face. Lance's heart freezes. Chills run down his spine as the teacher wipes his face. Mr. Shirogane’s dark eyes bore holes into him. Lance’s forehead sizzles, making him shrink away. As he dashes toward the door, his foot slips, and his head slams on the wet tile.
The crowd booms with laughter. Groaning, Lance turns on his back, leading to Mr. Shirogane’s face hovering above him. His lips curl.
Ay mierda…
Lance offers him his best apologetic smile. “Umm… hey, Mr. Shirogane, si–sir. How’s it going?”
The teacher yanks him to his feet. Lance’s knees buckle as Mr. Shirogane brushes off cake from his body. His cheeks burn harsh red. He wants to hurl himself out of a window and into oncoming traffic.
A loud alarm cuts through the laughter and whispers. His eyes widen when he sees students outside of the cafeteria running out the doors. Without warning, sprinklers spray the room. Everyone screeches as they’re drenched.
The school’s intercom erupts. “This isn’t a drill! Fire in the science wing! Evacuate the building! I repeat, fire in the science wing!
Evacuate immediately.”
“This day can’t get any worse!” Lance facepalms.
“Everyone stay calm.” Mr. Shirogane holds his hands up. He points to the exits. “Evacuate the building and meet with your homeroom teacher. Head towards the stadium! Don’t push each other. Now!”
All students follow the instructions, exiting the building. Before Lance can escape, Mr. Shirogane grabs his arm. “
You
and–” he yanks Keith next to him, who snarls in return. “
You
are coming with me.” The teacher’s eyes fall on Hunk, who’s still rocking himself into a ball. He grunts. “Hunk, get up! Follow me!”
The large boy scrambles to his feet, and follows the teacher. Lance eyerolls.
Mr. Shirogane drags both boys outside and to the stadium. As the teacher rants, they see thick puffs of smoke trailing the science building. Lance nearly drops his jaw.
What in tarnation caused this?
A breeze blows at them, causing Lance’s nose to scrunch.
Lemon? Why does it smell like lemons?
Once they arrive at the soccer field, Mr. Shirogane forces all three boys to line up. Crowds of students and teachers flock near his group like disoriented geese. Some kids snicker and point at Lance. He turns to the smoke, and more students gather in other fields.
“Wow, they weren’t kidding when they said evacuate!” Lance murmurs.
Soon, firefighters arrive at school and charge in the science department. Shortly, they put the fire out. The field erupts with cheers as firefighters give the all clear. One of the firefighters brings out a kid. The kid struggles in their grasp as they drag them towards the principal who directs them to Lance’s group.
Eventually, everyone heads to their classroom while Lance and the others are escorted to the Principal’s office. Lance overhears each student punished with a week of detention, with Keith getting the short end of the stick.
Lance is the last to be seen. His blood curdles when one of the teachers at the talent show whispers to the principal. Lance hangs his head low as the principal rips him a new one. Just like the others, Lance receives a week of detention. His heart drops when the principal makes a phone call home. He can hear his mother screeching on the other line.
Yeah, he’s definitely a goner.
But...
“Mister McClain.”
He sighs, looking reluctantly at the teacher. Their stern frown is burned in his memory. “Yes…”
“You’re out of the talent show.”
“Wh-what…”
“It pains me to say it because your performance was stunning, but I can’t enable that behavior. Consider this your lesson.”
Lance weighs down his chair. His blood runs cold as his heart thumps slowly. Struggling to process her words, he nearly shuts down. His throat closes in while his eyes sink to the floor.
I made it… I made it in the show… just to kick myself out.
Eyes burning, he whips his head at the teacher. “Wait! I’m sorry! Please! Give me another chance—”
“I’m sorry, Mister McClain. My decision is final.”
The teacher fades out of the room, the click of their heels echoing down the hall, along with his opportunity to shine.
The principal doesn’t batter him anymore and makes him change into dry clothes before dumping him into detention with a bag of his wet ones. Lucky for him, the room remains silent. Lance takes a seat. His foot taps, his hands fidget. He doesn’t flinch as his teeth puncture his bottom lip.
I’m cooked.
Mr. Shirogane storms into the classroom. Lance notices the big cake stain on his white shirt. Guilt consumes him. “Mr. Shirogane, I’m so sorry! I swear I didn’t know it was you--”
“
Save it
,
Lance
. You’re not getting out.” The teacher checks the small mirror in his room. He groans when he spots leftover cake in his hair. He mutters, “I’ll be back.
Don’t
create mayhem while I'm gone,” before leaving.
Lance hangs his head low.
“Teachers are stupid.” Lance turns to the small kid with glasses. She props her feet on the desk, tilting in her seat. He notices the dullness of her copper eyes. “So, I started a little fire. Big deal. I’ve done worse.”
Big deal?
Big deal?
Lance’s eyes squint, his patience thins, and he snarls, “That
‘little fire’
is the reason why we're here, Einstein.” His blood boils when she shrugs her shoulders.
So careless.
He lurches against his seat. “If it weren’t for Keith’s infamous outburst, I would only be getting a day or two.”
“You must have Alzheimer’s because you left out the part where you stripped and threw a cupcake at a teacher.” Lance whips his head towards Keith whose glare still burns from earlier, hot enough to start a fire. “I hope that last minute attention was worth it.”
Lance’s glare darkens and he flashes his teeth. His fist clenches. “Can’t ever keep your hands to yourself, huh?”
“Don’t blame me for your stupidity. No one told you to put on a Magic Mike performance.”
“Oh yeah? No one told you to tackle Griffin. You were just itching to kick someone’s ass!” Lance notices Keith’s body stiffening. “I see why no one likes you. Such a disappointment.”
“Too bad I don’t care, unlike you.”
“Bet your parents think so too.”
Keith halts before cocking his head. His eyes narrow and scorching, sharper than a dagger. “
What did you just say?
”
“You heard me.”
Lance barely notices Keith has leapt over his desk until he charges at him. “You wanna go?”
“
Go?
” Lance springs to his feet, advancing. He rolls up his sleeves. “I’m just getting started.”
The girl groans. “Hey, morons! This isn’t a boxing ring. Have your little piss party somewhere else.” Unfortunately, her words fall on deaf ears.
“I’m in huge trouble.” Hunk sniffles and buries his head in his arms. His muffled cries increase. “My mom’s going to kill me!”
The girl rolls her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Keith pulls his sleeves up, revealing his muscles. He shields himself with his arms and gets in position. Lance grunts, his eyes twitching.
Showing off as always.
A firm weight on his chest– a hand. His eyes move from Keith’s eyes to the hand, then to the rear of Mr. Shirogane’s head, which faces Keith. The man stands between the two boys.
Lance’s face drops when Mr. Shirogane cuts to him, his dark eyes glaring. The boy shivers as they share a look, but he doesn’t retreat.
Mr. Shirogane turns his gaze to Keith but he doesn’t flinch.
The teacher grunts. “Both of you, stop right now.”
Lance growls, eyes rolling. “This guy wanted to get rowdy, so I got rowdy with him.”
“More like
you
got your panties in a twist,” Keith snarls.
“Oh, look who’s talking! Did
you
forget
why
we’re here in the first place?”
“
I'm
here for my own reasons. You just want to start shit.”
“Shut up! Like hell I’ll let a loose cannon like you lecture me!”
“
Enough!
” Both boys flinch at the booming tone, switching their attention to the adult.
Mr. Shirogane sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lance, you sit over in that corner, and Keith, you return to where you were.”
Lance’s glare lingers on Keith before he lumbers toward his seat. Keith turns on his heel and plops on his seat. Mr. Shirogane’s pencils crash on the floor, spiraling everywhere.
The teacher sighs, turning at the small fort of desks. Their hard polished surfaces glinting. “Katie, get out from under there, please.”
“Not until those two screwballs knock it off.”
“
Katie
.”
The short girl sighs before scrabbling from her little fort. She dusts herself off before taking a seat. However, she’s stopped by the burly man. Mr. Shirogane points to the disarray. “Come on. You’re fixing the desks. I want them back in order.”
She smacks her lips. “Oh, come on--”
“Right.
Now
.” Mr. Shirogane glares intensely. Lance gulps. Instantly, Katie scrambles over the desks and cleans up her mess before taking a seat.
“Now I want everyone to sit down, face the board, and wait till it’s time for dismissal.” Mr. Shirogane sits at his desk, shoulders stiff. “If I receive
any
lip or disobedience from anyone in this room, that person will receive a
harsher
punishment.”
-
A few cars are parked outside once Lance is released. He watches as Hunk and Katie are picked up. Immediately, he sees Hunk’s mother fussing, pointing a finger at him. She drives away with bulging eyes. Katie strolls to her Sedan. Its metallic paint sparkles under the sun, spotless, looking like a million bucks. Her pristine windows are too dark to see what is happening.
As Lance walks home, he notices Keith crossing the street. They avoid each other and Lance prefers it that way. Halfway to his house, the boy turns onto a different street. He forgets Keith lives right by him.
Lance continues walking until he reaches home. He halts when he spots his mother’s van in the driveway. Toy strollers, shovels and red buckets scatter on the lawn. Piles of sand spill over his porch. A sigh leaves his lips. He drags himself inside the shabby house. Quietly, he cracks open his screen door and slips in. He exhales with relief when the door doesn't squeak. As he tiptoes through the hallway, he hears sizzling food and harsh murmurs in the kitchen.
Just as his footsteps on a stair— “
Lance Carlos McClain!
Get in here now!”
Lance halts in his tracks, groaning to himself.
Great.
He drags himself in the kitchen, following the sound of crackling grease and the scent of cheese. Once he arrives, he immediately wants to turn back.
His mother stands near the stove, her hand on one hip and the other gripping a spatula. Veronica leans on their stubby fridge. In her usual training suit, her pilot badge glints under the flickering light. His niece and nephew color books at the dining chairs near the window.
Her hot gaze sears his skin. He looks away and murmurs. “H-Hola, Mami.”
“What’s this talk about you receiving detention for a week?”
“And
stripping
?” Veronica adds.
Lance clutches his teeth. “Butt out of it, Veronica!”
He jolts at the snap of his mother’s fingers. “
Enfocate!
”
Lance nods, sighing. “I’m sorry, Mami.” He musters up the courage to explain himself. “I was auditioning for the school’s talent show, and I wanted to impress this girl. I–I hoped she would--”
“That’s so stupid, Lance!” A cackle comes from behind. Lance groans. Pounding footsteps shake the kitchen. Marco and Luis creep beside him. They reek of gasoline and oil. Their grins make Lance’s blood boil. His fists tighten. Marco continues, wiping sweat from his brow. “¡Qué va! You can’t be this desperate!”
“No seas demasiado duro con él, Marco,” Luis adds, waving around his tool ranch. “Our poor baby brother Lancey Lance just got bad game–”
“
¡Cállense, Marco y Luis!
”
“I’m very disappointed in you, Lance!” Lance quickly turns to his mother with an apologetic frown. Her eyes scorch with disappointment, reflecting a blue storm. She wipes grease from her apron. “You’re throwing away your dignity for a girl. ¡A girl! ¿Estás jugando?”
Lance opens his mouth but closes it with shame. His eyes fall to the ground, and so does his will to defend himself. No excuse would save him this time. He knows he’s screwed up. He responds with a low voice. “I’m sorry, Mami.”
He feels his mother’s disappointing glare on him like a brand. He awaits his punishment, but he hears a sigh instead. “I was going to ground you, but you seem to have learned.” Lance straightens. He feels his heart soar until— “However, you’re taking your cousins out---”
Instantly, his eyes bulge from his skull. Memories play in his head of those little demons sticking chocolate bars on the seats, playing chase in supermarkets, picking tulips from the neighbors’ garden— this isn’t even half of the chaos they cause, and Mami knows it. “But Mami-- those ruffians---”
“Eso es suficiente! You’re doing it, or I’ll take it back!” She hums when the boy shuts his mouth and nods. His head hangs low in shame. “As I said, I want you to take your cousins to the park.
That
will be your punishment.”
Lance nods in defeat.
“You think dad’s gonna get a kick out of this?” Luis adds, sucking on a popsicle.
Lance’s skin pales, his heart thrashing and nerves flaring.
“Maybe his insides will hurt from laughing. I know mine did!” Marco erupts in laughter, Luis joining him.
“Alright! Now enchiladas are almost ready!” His mother yanks off her cooking net, brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Veronica, pass me the sour cream and tortillas. You two shower up! You better smell like a rose garden when dinner’s ready! And Lance,” he rips his eyes from the ground to his mother. “If you have any homework, finish it.”
Lance mopes out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room. Just as he passes Rachael’s room, he hears her door swing open. Instantly, the scent of rose perfume invades his nose. “You look pissed.”
He halts, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t look her way, too embarrassed and annoyed about the situation. “You have
amazing
observation skills.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Back off, Racheal.”
Lance pulls down the hatchet. A wooden ladder extends to the ground, leading to the attic. He climbs the ladder. Rachael stands underneath. “It was just a question--”
“¡Déjame en paz!” Lance yanks the hatchet closed. He sighs, cradling his face. He nearly trips on his swim trunks on his way to bed, plopping on the soft mattress.
Lance pulls out his earphones and jams it in his ear and puts on the first song. He turns to his window, staring at the rushing ocean.
You think dad’s gonna get a kick out of this?
Those words speed up his heart. Shark covered bedsheets ball in his hands, his knuckles turning white.
I need a way out.
-
After cleaning himself up, Lance is called down for dinner. He would rather stay upstairs, but he knows his mother wouldn’t approve of that.
He sulks at the end of the table, eating with his family. His legs tremble with the need to escape. His burning desire to hurl himself out of the window strengthens. Across from him sits his old man. Dining light bounces off his specs and flecks of gray hairs. His scent carries a hint of metal despite his stainless black suit. Lance gulps as his father’s silence eats him alive. The only time he’s spoken is for Mami to bring him more enchiladas.
No one mentions the incident, much to Lance’s relief. He remains silent for the entirety of this meal.
Eat and leave. Eat and leave.
As he bites into his enchilada, he feels eyes on him. He glances up only to meet his father’s royal blue eyes. Lance shrinks in his seat, turning to his plate.
“My son, you’re awfully quiet today. What’s wrong?” He hears his father’s voice.
Lance doesn’t look up from his plate. He continues to scrape food into his mouth. “I… I don’t feel too good, Papa.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t feel good either if an
incident
like that happened.” Veronica presses. Lance shoots daggers at his sister, who shrugs it off.
“Incident?” Lance’s face pales when his father responds. His body stiffens. Concern fills his father’s face, folding the wrinkles under his tired eyes. “What happened? Is Lance alright?”
“No, he isn’t.” His mother scowls. Her eyes lowered to Lance; sharp and unimpressed, like a magnifying glass burning him. “Your son got detention for a week because he decided to strip in front of the entire school for a girl’s hand.”
Lance sinks into his seat more. Of course, his siblings add salt to the wound by snickering and murmuring dumb jokes. He feels a bit of relief when his mother sends them the stink eye, which is enough to seal their traps.
However, his father’s vivid frown snatches away. He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You took off your clothes to get a girl to notice you?” His voice is low and calm, yet each word stabs deep in his gut.
Lance opens his mouth, but his father shakes his head, holding his hand up. He senses a raging storm in his tired eyes. Pure disappointment. “I expected more from you, Lance. You’re sixteen years old and still act like you’re six. I know I raised you better than that. Stripping? ¡¿En serio?! Are you so deprived of attention that you stoop so low to embarrass yourself? Your family? Me?”
“N-No, Papa—”
“Go to your room. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.”
All the air sucks out of his lungs as if a boulder has crushed him. He feels numb all over. His father’s stare weighs on him. Lance opens his mouth again but instead stands from his seat and leaves the dining room table.
Just as he leaves— “Mama, Papa, I got the job!”
Everyone claps and cheers for Rachael and continues with their conversation, like they hadn’t witnessed him getting torched.
Lance drags himself to his room and sinks onto his messy mattress, curling himself into a ball. He finally releases the tears in his eyes, sniffling. Quiet sobs fall from his lips, as he loses control of his breath. A downpour of tears falls on his face, and his throat closes. Everything aches.
“You’re out of the talent show.”
"I'm sorry, Lance. I’m already going with someone else.”
"I hope that last minute attention was worth it."
"You're so stupid, Lance!"
"So deprived of attention you had to stoop so low to embarrass your family? Me?"
His eyes sting as the words ring in his head.
The moon finally appears in the dark sky. Its cool light shines through his window, highlighting his figure over thin blankets. His eyes fall on the ocean across from his house. From a distance, the calm waves glisten.
His mind wanders to the beach, then to memories of waves carrying his body.
What would it take to get out of this misery?
If he were given a ticket to outer space, he wouldn’t hesitate to take it.
Lance feels his eyes grow heavy, and soon he succumbs to the waves of exhaustion. He murmurs. “It sure would be nice.”
-
Returning to school is hell.
Waking up to his mother’s nagging, his brothers snickering,
‘keep your clothes on this time!,’
and eating stale pop tarts with toothpaste mixed in is bad enough, but arriving at school is
way worse
.
Lance can’t escape the mockery from students and disappointing glares from teachers when he drags himself through the school. He passes by some cackling freshmen pointing at him.
“Hey! Do you accept 10’s or 20’s?”
“Gonna strip for school again?”
“Maybe if you wore jock straps, she’d go out with you!”
His blood boils, and his fists clench. He nearly stops but keeps moving forward.
It’s not worth it. I already dug myself a hole.
Speaking of rejection, Lance hasn’t seen Taylor. Usually, she skips around the school’s entrance to greet people. Her pretty smile and strawberry scent would lift his mood a little. He hangs his head.
She’s avoiding me, and rightfully so.
After wandering the halls, the detention room finds him. Dread weighs down his body as he stares at the red bold letters on the wooden door. He sighs deeply before lumbering towards the entrance.
Hunk is stuffed in his desk. His stubby nose rests on his sausage arms. He wilts like a flower. Katie lounges in her seat. Her round specs glint under the bright stale light. Her green hoodie swallows her head (and body), with fawn brown tips of her hair sticking out.
They exchange stares. Hunk breaks away first, shifting his attention towards the bookcases.
Lance scans the room with an arched brow. Neither the teacher nor Keith is present in the room. “Where’s everyone?”
“Mr. Shirogane went to get coffee,” Katie answers, writing something in her notebook.
“And Keith?”
“Keith… he hasn’t come yet.”
Lance scoffs and folds his arms. “I knew it! That Mullet-head dropped out. He thinks he’s too cool for detention, huh? All that talk and couldn’t even finish his time.”
Lance unfolds his arms when he notices Hunk’s trembling figure, his widened eyes glued to the carpet. Lance tilts his head before his eyes widen, too. Within seconds, he feels a presence loom over him. Slowly, Lance turns around and looks down. Keith blocks the space behind him. His head is lowered, his long, dark bangs cover his eyes. His lips thin and his gloved fists grip his bag strap.
Not wanting to piss Keith off more, Lance skitters inside the class and finds a nearby seat. He watches Keith toss his bag to the floor and thuds into the front seat.
Lance can’t help but shiver. Usually, he gives Keith a hard time, but seeing how tense he is, Lance backs down. The guy’s shoulders slump instead of broaden.
What’s up with this guy?
Lance mentally face-palms.
Why am I thinking about him? Mullet is just brooding like always.
The bell disrupts Lance’s thoughts. Just as he glances at the door, Mr. Shirogane enters with a coffee and papers.
“Good morning, everyone,” Mr. Shirogane says. His voice is lighter than yesterday. He strolls over to his desk, nearly tripping over Keith’s black duffel bag. A little coffee manages to land on Mr. Shirogane’s white office shirt. Mr. Shirogane scrutinizes the boy sitting in the front row. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His gaze softens at Keith.
Lance furrows his brow, curiosity dwelling within him.
Mr. Shirogane sighs and turns to his desk. “Keith, please move your bag.”
The boy catches the strap of his bag with his foot, lugging it to his desk. Mr. Shirogane nods before turning to his monitor. “Let me take attendance.” He types on his computer, the clicks echoing around the room. “When I call your name, respond. Katherine Holt?”
“It’s
Pidge
.” Lance glances over at “Pidge” who pulls off her hoodie, making her messy hair flop. Her desktop is cluttered with papers.
“I’ll remember that for future reference.” Mr. Shirogane looks down at his list. “Hunk Garrett?”
Hunk raises his head from his arms. A frown hangs low on his face. “Here, Sir.” His words are drenched with gloom.
“James Griffin?”
Lance squints his eyes. He looks around the room.
Griffin got detention too? Now this will
really
feel like hell.
Mr. Shirogane’s dark eyes flicker to the front of the room before returning to his computer.
“Keith Kogane?”
Keith remains silent. Mr. Shirogane sighs but proceeds with attendance.
“Lance McClain?”
Lance raises his hand. “Here.”
“Nice! Everyone is accounted for.” He clicks away on his computer. While Mr. Shirogane passes out the principal’s assignments, Lance’s eyes wander around the room. Everything is clean, like nothing has ever been touched. Desks are in neat rows, with chairs pushed behind. No pencils or crayons litter the floor. Books sit neatly on the shelf.
Mr. Shirogane returns to his desk. “The school wants a formal apology for causing yesterday’s chaos. You will write your apology, list ways of changing your behavior, and how you’ll be a better role model for incoming freshmen. It doesn’t have to be fancy and long but just be sincere. Are we clear?”
Lance mentally eye rolls at the assignment, but he shrugs off his swamp green jacket and gets to work. He writes for what feels like hours. His fingers start to itch and his legs stiffen. The dull silence makes his nerves jitter. Lance looks around the room and sees Hunk set down his pencil and sidle his large body toward Mr. Shirogane.
“Hey, Mr. Shirogane,” he squeaks. His large hands clam together, and his posture shrinks. “Can I read a book?”
Mr. Shirogane jerks his eyes toward the bookshelves and then to Hunk. “Find a book, quickly.”
Lance watches as Hunk nods and scurries to the bookshelves. Lance returns to his paper. His mind wanders back to the teachers’ dismissal. He grunts, his hand tightening around the pencil, almost snapping it in half.
Stripping for a girl’s attention. What the hell was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have ever done that. Of course Taylor rejected me. I was a lunatic!
He slams his hand against his forehead, sulking.
There’s no way I can show my face to her now.
He overhears a soft grumble across from him. Lance focuses on Keith who slouches in his seat. Lance grunts silently.
He still hasn’t said anything. He hasn’t even worked on his assignment!
Lance’s mind wanders to his piercing eyes.
His eyes... I couldn’t get a good look from his smudged eyeliner, but they… they look red.
“OMG!”
Everyone sits up and turns to Hunk. The big guy hops near his desk. A wide smile rounds his square face.
Pidge shrugs. “What?”
“I can’t believe you guys have this game!” Hunk shows everyone his discovery. A Scooby Doo game. He giggles as he hugs the box. “I love Scooby Doo!”
Lance raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen that game before.”
Hunk focuses on the box. His brows furrow, as he whispers, “This must be a new or a very old game.” He leaps toward Mr. Shirogane; his eyes beam brighter than the stars. “Mr. Shirogane, please! Can we play it?”
Mr. Shirogane sighs. “Hunk, this is
detention
. Not recess. Put the game away.”
“Please! It’s Friday. This could bring everyone together and give us a chance to learn from each other. I mean, maybe this will make everyone cheer up---”
“Hunk, put the game away.”
Hunk slumps forward like a deflating balloon. He lumbers his way back to the shelves and returns with a hardware book and reads.
The muffled chatter of students and slamming lockers pulls Lance’s attention away from his work. He looks at the clock on the wall.
Everyone’s heading to second class.
It’s 8:30 am. He huffs before returning to his stupid paper.
This is going to be a long day.
-
“You know what—” Mr. Shirogane sets his pen down and struts toward the bookshelf. Everyone shifts in their seats. Mr. Shirogane returns with the game. Confusion crosses Lance’s face. “Everyone is a bit stressed out. Like Hunk said, this could be a learning exercise for everyone. So, let's play one game.”
Hunk leaps from his seat and skips toward Mr. Shirogane. “I’ll help set it up!”
Mr. Shirogane smiles gently. His dark eyes slide toward the students still in their seats. He waves them over. “Come on, guys. One game won’t hurt.”
Lance’s frown deepens.
Is Mr. Shirogane being serious?
Pidge snorts before turning back to her work. “I’m not playing a stupid kid’s game.”
Mr. Shirogane folds his arms, his biceps bulging against the fabric of his shirt. “Pidge, just join the game.”
“I’m with Pidge,” Lance speaks up. “I have homework to do–”
“Lance, your homework isn't even out. Just play the game until lunch comes by.”
Lance groans and meets Hunk in the middle of the floor, searching for a good spot.
Pidge returns to her work again. “Have fun playing that stupid kid’s game. I'm not playing.”
“I’ll take off a day of detention--”
Without hesitation, Pidge slides from her desk and hops to the rough carpet with her classmates. She plops next to Hunk.
However, Keith still sits. Instead of reprimanding him for his disobedience, Mr. Shirogane joins the others. He wedges between Lance and Pidge.
Lance drops his jaw and points to his classmate. “Hey! How come
he
gets to sit out?”
“Worry about yourself, Lance,” Mr. Shirogane answers. Lance opens his mouth to protest but halts when he sees the look in Mr. Shirogane’s eyes. Instead of sternness, he’s met with sadness. The same look from earlier.
Lance decides to move on from the topic. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but it’s best not to open that can of worms.
Once Hunk opens the box, dust blows out and onto the carpet. Some get caught in his throat causing him to cough. Everyone copies his motions. Hunk’s eyes widen at the collected dust.
“Jeez!” Hunk says with admiration, as he examines the game. “... How long did you guys have the game?”
Mr. Shirogane shrugs as he coughs into his elbow. “I can’t say… this school was built 40 years ago, so I guess 40 years.”
“
40 years?
” Lance, Pidge, and Hunk say in unison. Hunk smiles before continuing to set up the pieces.
Pidge coughs one last time, shaking her head. “No wonder it looks like an ancient artifact.”
Lance picks up the pieces, and he blows the dust off in the opposite direction. The crud leaves, revealing a cheese yellow peg. He quirks an eyebrow at the black SD initials ingrained in the plastic. “
SD
? What’s that?”
Both the teacher and Pidge shrug their shoulders.
Lance scans the room. “
Anyone?
”
“Scooby Doo.” Hunk finally answers, but he doesn’t look up from his spot. “It’s an abbreviation for his name.”
“
O…kay
.” Lance picks up the remaining pieces before standing. “I’ll clean these off.”
“I’ll come with you.” Mr. Shirogane stands too.
“Why? The bathroom is only down the hallway.”
Mr. Shirogane provides a tight smile. “To make sure you don’t run away.”
Lance gulps, nodding. He leaves the room with Mr. Shirogane on his tail.
Once he enters the bathroom, the scent of urine and musk invades his nose. Lance nearly hurls and smacks a palm to his nose, opening his mouth. Instantly, he tastes the putrid air. His stomach churning, he dashes out of the bathroom. Relief washes over him at the smell of mop detergent. He can’t decide which is worse: breathing it in or tasting the air. Either way, Lance regrets volunteering.
His eyes widen as an idea pops into his head. This is a good time to practice holding his breath. Swim tryouts are coming soon. Lance inhales a deep breath for ten seconds before entering the restroom.
He hears Mr. Shirogane chuckling from behind. “Is it that bad?” Once the teacher enters, his eyes bulge. His lips wither, nose wrinkling. “I’m calling the janitor once we head back.”
Lance rushes to the sink and dumps the pegs in the bowl. He turns on the warm water. All the crud flows down the drain, revealing vibrant orange, green, blue, yellow, and pink.
Once the dirt is gone, Lance dries the little pegs underneath the blower. He feels Mr. Shirogane’s gaze burning his skin, causing him to tremble where he stands. This whole time, Mr. Shirogane leans against the wall, clicking his dress shoes on the dirty tile. Lance turns his head over his shoulder. In the corner of his eye, Mr. Shirogane averts his gaze. He has the same sad look from earlier.
Is this about Keith?
A flaming sensation increases in his lungs.
Time to go!
Lance brings the pegs to his chest before rushing towards the door. Mr. Shirogane stands from the wall, straightening his back. Lance leaps out of the washroom, sending his hair flying. He exhales all the air from his lungs, breathing in.
Mr. Shirogane stands beside him, humming. “Not bad, Lance.”
Lance’s chest heaves. “How long was that?”
“That was thirty seconds.”
Lance nods, smiling a little at the teacher’s Smartwatch. They return to the detention room just as the phone rings. Mr. Shirogane picks it up. “Hello?” Without warning, he slips out into the hallway again with the phone in his ear.
Lance sees Hunk and Pidge sit in their same spots as they finish setting up the game which is polished like it is brand new.
How did they clean off the board?
In the corner of his eye, he spots a pink duster swinging near the computers. Lance mentally facepalms himself. “
That
was there the whole time?”
He hears soft snickers in front of him. Pidge and Hunk giggle in their hands. Lance’s nose wrinkles, snarling. “You two knew there was a duster here? I could've saved myself the trip and my nostrils!”
Pidge eye rolls. “Yeah, yeah, now pass over the pegs.”
Lance lumbers his way over to the group. As he walks, his eyes slide to Keith who sits as still as a statue. A frown still hangs on his lips. Lance shakes his head before sitting down. He places the pegs in the middle of the game.
Pidge picks up the game manual and reads while Hunk focuses on the pegs. His body stiffens when Lance scoots closer to him. Lance eye rolls. He picks up the denim-blue peg, examining it. The black ink reads
FJ
. “I'm guessing
FJ
is a name too?”
“
Duh
,” Pidge answers. She fixes her glasses on her face. “Hunk mentioned it's an abbreviation for names. The blue color is Fred Jones, pink is Daphne Blake, orange is Velma Jenkins, and green is Shaggy Rogers—”
“Fred’s the handsome one, right?”
Pidge sighs. “He’s the blonde.”
“I’ll be Fred!” Lance smiles at the blue peg.
Hunk shakes his head. “No, I chose Fred earlier.”
Lance frowns. “Oh
now
you wanna talk to me. Well, sorry, but I’m holding the piece. I claimed it.”
“Come on, Lance. You know that I really like Fred. You can have Shaggy.” Hunk points to the goo-green peg.
Lance sneers. “Isn’t that the smelly hippy that eats whatever can fit in his mouth? Yeah, I’ll pass.”
Pidge huffs, grabbing the manual. “Who cares. Just pick a peg.”
Instead of complying, Hunk shakes his head. “No. I chose Fred first. Lance, give me the peg.”
“Dude, pick another one. You didn’t have a problem when
your girlfriend
was Fred last time we played. What’s any different now?”
Hunk’s frowns deepens. “At least my girlfriend isn't selfish and actually listens to me. Just hand it over!”
Lance’s sneer intensifies.
Selfish? Me?
“Oh I’m selfish? That’s rich coming from you!”
“Y— whatever.” Hunk sighs. “Just give me the peg. You know why I chose Fred, or did you forget like always.”
“Screw you. I’m not handing over the peg.”
“Lance—”
A fingerless gloved hand comes between them and snatches the blue piece from Lance’s grasp. Lance snaps up to see Keith standing over him. He glares as Keith barges to his left. Lance’s growls, baring teeth. “
Umm, excuse you!
”
“I’ll be Fred,” Keith speaks.
Who the hell does he think he is? Mr. Lonewolf was just taking a nap earlier. When did he decide to call the shots?
Lance shakes his head, reaching for the peg. “I don’t think so. Give that back--”
Keith pushes the bubblegum pink peg in the shape of a woman into Lance’s hand. “You’re Daphne.” He tosses the green peg to Hunk, who flinches. “Hunk is Shaggy.” Keith points to Pidge. “Pidge is Velma. Now can we get on with it?”
Lance grumbles, fists tightening. “Who put
you
in charge? Go back to sulking in your corner.”
“Shut up and play the game.”
Before Lance can snap, Mr. Shirogane reenters the room, makes his way to the small circle, and squeezes between Pidge and Keith. He looks over at everyone, nodding. “Everyone chose their pieces already? I guess I’ll be the dog.”
Lance grunts but accepts his piece.
Whatever! Fussing over a peg isn’t worth another day in detention; neither is punching this mullet head worth an added day.
Hunk accepts his piece without protest. His fudge brown eyes tremble. Lance rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth sealed.
Once Mr. Shirogane picks Scooby, Pidge claps her hands together. “Okay. I finished reading the directions. To move forward, we have to roll the dice.” She opens the palm of her hand, revealing two dice. “Both dice have three sides. Each side counts up to three. Get doubles, you get another turn. You'll get an extra turn if you land on a Scooby face.”
Mr. Shirogane hums. “I see.”
Pidge holds the two dice, showing three dots on both sides. “But if you roll a six, you’ll receive a…
prize?
”
Lance raises an eyebrow. “What's the prize?”
Pidge shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably a Scooby snack or something lame.”
“What’s that?” Keith points to a yellow triangle with an exclamation point.
Pidge rolls her eyes. “
Obviously
, that's a hazard sign.”
“Yeah, but what does it mean?”
“You’ll lose a turn.” Pidge points to the glass bulb on the board game. “The glass bulb reads the space you landed on.”
Everyone nods. Lance speaks up. “So, how do we settle this? Rock, Paper, Scissors?”
Pidge grabs the directions. As she searches, her lips pout. “It doesn’t say—”
“What the…”
Everyone looks at Hunk. He points to the glass bulb. Everyone gasps. The bulb is pitch black, but words emerge from the darkness, displaying glowing green letters.
Lance quirks an eyebrow.
What type of game is this?
Hunk trembles. “I didn’t know that’s part of the game. I never saw that in the instructions.”
Pidge frowns. “That’s because it isn’t.”
“Looks like things just got interesting,” Keith shrugs. He leans in and reads.
“This game is for every young boy and girl whose biggest desire is to leave their world. For the mystery to unfold, whoever chose their peg first must roll.”
“
Whoever chose first?
” Mr. Shirogane turns to the group. “So, who chose first?”
Hunk doesn’t raise his hand or speak. Lance clears his throat. “Well, I did choose Fred first, but
someone
decided to take it out of my hand.” His glare darkens at Keith.
Keith shrugs. “You two were acting like babies.”
Lance rolls his eyes, muttering. “Como sea.” He leans forward and grabs the two dice. “I’ll take one for the team.” Lance rolls a four and lands on a red spot. The bulb glows red, revealing black letters. “
You lose a turn
--
Que?!
I just started this game!”
“Sucks to suck! My turn!” Pidge rolls a three and lands on a blue spot. She places her orange peg on the spot before reading. “
You received a letter
? I can’t even do anything with it!”
Mr. Shirogane rolls a two. He lands on yellow. “
You get a Scooby snack?
”
Hunk rolls a five; his face remains gloomy. “You received a free item in the gift shop. Cool… I guess.”
Keith rolls a six, landing on the green. Lance seethes. “I hate this game.”
However, instead of green, the letters glow a thick and alarmingly bright red. “Isn’t it supposed to be green? I landed on the green spot.”
Hunk nods. “That’s strange.”
Mr. Shirogane shrugs. “What does it say?”
Keith leans forward and reads. “
Would you still like to leave your world behind? Once you’re in, you’ll lose track of time. Think carefully about your choice. Once you agree, you’ll be sucked into the void.
”
Lance leans closer to the bulb. “Leave your world behind? What does that mean?”
“It’s obvious it's part of the game. It’s just some dumb rabbit hole.” Pidge groans.
They remain silent until Keith speaks up, relaxing his shoulders. “I don’t mind leaving my world behind right now. It would actually feel nice.”
Lance’s eyes flicker to Keith then to the bulb.
He said the same thing yesterday. Now, the game provides a solution. It’s like the game knows how he’s feeling… how I am feeling. Wait a minute. Am I
really
being superstitious now?!
Lance bites his lips. He doesn’t want to admit it, especially to
him
, but Keith has read his mind. He wouldn’t mind entering another world at the moment, leaving all his troubles behind. So, a new setting would be quite handy. It’s just what he needs.
“Thank you for your sacrifice! Now, hold on tight and prepare for your flight!”
A high pitched voice comes from the bulb.
Everyone jolts at the words from the game. Lance’s eyes widen, pointing. “Hold the phone! The bulb just spoke! Bulbs don’t speak— wait… the game was listening to us this entire time?”
Hunk shakes his head. His eyes nearly pop out. “And
sacrifice
? Sacrifice for what? What the heck does that mean?”
Mr. Shirogane extends his hands to Lance and Hunk. “Calm down. I’m sure it’s part of the game. As Pidge said, it’s a rabbit hole.”
Pidge glances at the bulb. “Hopefully it doesn’t talk anymore. It’s enthusiasm creeps me out.”
Keith remains stern, shaking his head. “That was weird… How did it know what I chose? It’s not like I could roll or land on ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”
This time Mr. Shirogane doesn’t respond, sighing. Everyone stares at the game. Nothing happens.
Lance picks up the dice and rolls. He gets a five. A smile spreads across his face when he lands on the green. Next, he waits for the bulb to reveal his fortune.
However, the bulb remains black. He frowns, tapping it. Still, the bulb doesn’t respond. “Hey! I landed on green! Why aren’t you glowing? Where’s my fortune?”
“Is the game busted?” Mr. Shirogane asks.
Pidge grabs the manual again and reads, humming. “It doesn’t tell us how to fix it or if we need batteries.” She groans, facepalming. “So, we wasted time for nothing.” Pidge tosses the manual in the bin. “I’m going back to studying.”
Lance chuckles dryly. “So,
this
is the stupid prize? A broken game.” He eyerolls, muttering, folding his arms. “Keith broke the game.”
Keith growls. “Oh, shut up, Lance!”
“I'm just saying, you and your weird prize broke the game!”
“Board games don't break, you moron.”
“Well,
this
one did.” Lance turns to Keith, jabbing a finger at his sleeve. “And it’s
your
fault!”
“Quiet!” Everyone turns to Pidge. Brimming with worry, her eyes scatter around the room. Lance’s snarl drops when he sees her face. It’s the first time she hasn’t had an annoyed expression. “…What's that noise?”
Lance quirks his brow and listens. Though it’s faint, he hears a thundering sound in the room. He stands; everyone follows. The growing sound of thunder prowls around the room, causing the ground to tremble.
Mr. Shirogane marches toward the door. He twists the knob, but the door doesn’t open. He grunts, trying to open it again. As the sound increases, his shakes become violent. “Why is the door locked from the inside?”
Lance snaps to Mr. Shirogane. “
What?!
”
Mr. Shirogane jerks the knob, slamming his body onto the door for the final time, but it doesn’t budge. His calm gaze dwindles as panic rises. “It’s not opening!”
Lance runs over to the door. He also tries twisting the knob, but nothing works. “Why is the door locked?!”
After several attempts, Lance slams his hand on the wooden door. “How is it locked from the inside out?!
Why
is it locked!”
“I don’t know, Lance!” Mr. Shirogane says. His voice is low but trembling just a little. They share a look. He spots fear seeping into the teacher, but Mr. Shirogane inhales a deep breath, regaining control. “Just help me open the door.”
Lance and Mr. Shirogane press their bodies onto the hardwood, pushing with all their might, but the door remains closed.
Piercing shrieks make Lance jolt. He sees Pidge and Hunk flee towards him; behind them, the game thrashes violently on the ground. The orb flashes bright red and green.
The lights in the room flicker before blowing out. The ground quakes violently with booming sounds, making the desks dance and computers jump. Lance nearly falls over, but a table nearby saves him.
Pidge screams over the ruckus. Her pale face flashes red and green. “What is happening?”
“Alright, move!” Keith pushes everyone aside. First, he gives the door a hard kick, but still, nothing happens. He takes a few steps back before charging forward. He slams himself against the door, but it won’t break down. He grunts in pain after the third time.
Lance groans. “We tried that, idiot!”
Keith sneers, pounding against the solid door. “Maybe I’ll just throw
you
against the door!”
“It wouldn’t do much!”
“No, but it’ll calm me down—”
“Ga-Guys!”
Everyone whips their heads around to Hunk. Lance’s stomach drops at the sight, as he uses the table like a stand. Hunk holds out his arms but his hands are no longer there. Next, his arms dissolve into dust before his eyes. The particles from Hunk suck toward the glowing bulb like a vacuum. Everyone screams. Lance almost catches Hunk’s clothes but the bulb sucks in every piece of him.
Lance’s skin pales.
Hunk is gone.
His screams ring in Lance’s ears.
Everyone bangs on the door while Lance grabs a desk. “Everyone, move!”
Keith glances at Lance before he grabs a desk too and stands beside him. Just as they almost launch at the door, Lance sees Pidge starting to dissolve in the corner of his eye. “Pidge! Your arm!”
Pidge looks down. Her breath hitches. She clenches onto the desk but she starts to lose her legs. Her screams bounce off the walls, but are swallowed in less than a second. Just like that, she disappears into the game.
Lance’s grip tightens on the desk. He turns behind Keith and throws the desk at the bulb. Instead of shattering, it bounces off the hard glass and hits Mr. Shirogane.
Lance’s lips wobble. “Mr. Shirogane—”
The game thrashes more violently as the deafening sounds crash into everything. Lance can’t hear anything.
He turns to Keith, who’s reaching out toward him. Before Lance can take his hand, Keith’s hand dissolves into the game. Lance grabs his arms, pulling him close. Lance can’t even hear the shrieks from Keith. His trembling eyes are the last things Lance sees before Keith vanishes.
Lance’s breath hitches as he looks at his own hands that held Keith. Now, he watches his own hands dissolve into the game. It feels as if a vacuum is pulling him apart. His eyes sting as tears stream down his face. Lance screams at the daunting realization that he’s next. Sadly, his own voice falls on deaf ears.
A hand grabs his shoulder, pulling him up. Lance sees Mr. Shirogane. Colorful lights highlight his scared face. “Lance, hold on!”
Now, he doesn’t feel his feet anymore.
This is happening. I'm being pulled to the game!
Mr. Shirogane’s arms bulge as he keeps Lance from disappearing. “Mr. Shirogane! HELP ME!”
Mr. Shirogane clutches Lance’s shoulders. His breath stops as he watches half of Lance’s body disappear. Only his torso and head remain in this room.
“Mr. Shiro---”
Lance’s scream echoes as he dissolves entirely. Mr. Shirogane’s heart drops as his body heaves. He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t try breaking down the door again. Instead, he closes his eyes and waits for the game to take him.
In the blink of an eye, the room lights turn on. The room is still and quiet.
Sweat drips from his face.
Desks and papers are cast everywhere. Crashed bookshelves on the floor. Computers reloading. His eyes fall on the game.
Mr. Shirogane hesitates, but crawls toward the board game. His shaky, metal hand reaches out and touches the bulb. He reels his hand back, ready for the upcoming commotion, but nothing happens.
What? What just happened?!
Mr. Shirogane’s breath quickens. His eyes narrow in on the game. His head feels light just from looking at it, so he stumbles to the door. He doesn’t realize he has yanked it open and is dashing down the halls. “H—Help!
Help!
” His shaking voice echoes throughout the halls.
As the game is left unattended, words appear on the bulb.
Don’t worry, Scooby Doo. We know where to find you!
-
Lance floats as he's caught in a swirl of blue dust. The specks illuminate the surrounding darkness, allowing him to glimpse his legs and arms. Lance overhears screams from others.
“Pidge! Hunk! Keith! Help!” Lance hollers back, but the voices are drowned out.
Something hits him in the back. The blue specks blur. Lance feels his skin bubble and his head feels heavy. The last thing he sees is his tan arms turn pale and thin hair sprouts on his skin. Lance falls unconscious and allows the dust to take him away.