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“Hi! You’re Bruno, right? I’m Felix!” the shorter boy chirped happily from where he had practically appeared from thin air beside Bruno.
Admittedly, Bruno was spooked by the sudden presence of another person—not to mention the fact that he was trying to talk to him. The only people his age who did that were those who wanted to tear him down starting at the foundations. Older people merely claimed ownership over his gift, but fellow teenagers were all too happy to torment the lanky child.
Or at least they had. The best defense mechanism Bruno had ever discovered was using his tainted image to his own benefit. If he was going to be regarded as subhuman or a monster, he would simply allow himself to fill out the role. Intimidation certainly goes a long way, and the bruises on his skin had faded over the near year he had kept his torturers at bay.
“Anybody in there?” the boy—Felix—spoke again, startling Bruno from his thoughts, “Did’ja zone out? I do that sometimes.”
Bruno summoned the best glare his haunted eyes could muster, practically snarling in a voice near a whisper. “What do you want?”
Now, that should have been enough to send this strange boy packing. Not only were they standing in the secluded area that Bruno had practically claimed for himself and his solitude, but he had proven himself to be the fearful thing everybody said he was.
Felix only chuckled at him, sucking the air from Bruno’s lungs.
“Well alright then, bro.” he gave Bruno’s arm a light nudge, “I want to talk to you.”
His smile felt suddenly more like a threat, and Bruno stood as tall as his bony frame would allow him. It was a miracle this boy was shorter than he. “Well, I don’t want to talk to you. Don’t you know who I am? Have you not heard the rumors?”
The bravado he injected into his voice should have done the trick, but considering nothing else had, it wasn’t much of a surprise that Felix just gave a nonchalant shrug, grinning. “Eh. Not much for the gossip scene. I know you’re Bruno, and I know that you looked lonely sulking on out here.”
“I—” he stammered, astonished, “I was not sulking. And I am not lonely. In fact, I like it here when it’s quiet. So kindly piss off before I curse you.”
Bruno shoved himself off the splintering wall of the old structure, walking inside. It had been a barn at some point or another, but it was so far away from any other structures and imbedded into the forest that most left it alone. Especially now that Bruno used it to hide himself away when his mother insisted he leave the house.
Yet, as he walked inside and ducked past the low-hanging planks of wood, he heard a second set of footsteps following jovially behind.
“Nice place you got here.” A little clinking sound alerted Bruno to what Felix was doing and he turned hastily to face him, “You make these yourself?”
Bruno grabbed Felix by the wrist and yanked his reach away from the bottles suspended from the ceiling. Slender but practiced hands gripped the hanging items and stilled them, stopping the clinking.
All varying in height, little strings hung them from the ceiling. Empty bottles left littered in the forest by youths with no regard for nature were collected and strung up from the ceiling, some right side up, some upside down. It created an odd spectacle, but one that Bruno worked to maintain. Peculiar as it was, it was undoubtedly his.
Bottles hung from trees caught evil spirits, after all. Bottles hung from the ceiling might be able to absorb all the bad luck Bruno put into the world around him.
Plus some random brat said that the old barn looked like somewhere for cult rituals with the bits of glass hanging from the ceiling, which only encouraged Bruno to suspend more and more. It cleaned up the forest too, giving purpose to old bottles.
“Don’t.” Bruno locked eyes with the boy, “Touch those. You’ll break them.”
Felix, to his credit, nodded somewhat seriously. “I won’t, bro. I didn’t realize they were important to you. I’ll leave ‘em be.”
It gave him pause, to say the least. Wringing his hands in front of his ruana, Bruno studied this kid’s face. He looked about Bruno’s age, yet managed to simultaneously look younger and older. Strangest yet was how undoubtedly relaxed he looked—not at all seeming bothered by being in the presence of the cursed soothsayer.
He couldn’t for the life of him figure this kid out. If he knew Bruno liked his hanging glass, why would he not destroy it? Perhaps he was anxious of the glass. Or of Bruno. That made the most sense, Bruno decided.
“You alright, bro? You seem a bit—” He reached out to touch Bruno, and Bruno couldn’t stop the violent flinch that went through his body and forced him to take a step back. Felix looked… almost concerned.
Bruno tried to maintain his composure, “Get the hell out of here, you prick!” he snapped, waving violently towards the exit, “I’ll curse you! I will!”
Rather than fear, understanding was what Bruno found himself faced with. “You can’t do that, man.”
“I—are you deaf?!” Bruno shouted, making himself as tall as possible, a vision threatening to come on as it scratched at the back of his brain, making his vision start to go green, “Have you simply ignored the warnings of the Encanto? Do you want to be cursed by el brujo?!”
“You aren’t el brujo,” Felix stated calmly, “You’re just a boy. And a scared one, at that.”
Green light reflected around through bottles hanging from the ceiling, “I’m not scared of you.” His tone was low and dangerous, but Felix just smiled.
“I know that. I didn’t say you were.” He extended a hand to Bruno even as his eyes glowed dangerously, “I do think you’re a bit scared of people being nice to you, though. You shouldn’t be.”
Looking between the calloused hand and the smiling face on the boy it was connected to, Bruno couldn’t help but falter. He seemed so sincere, but sincerity was a scarcity for the forsaken seer. Still…
With a slight tremor, Bruno tentatively raised a hand to shake Felix’s.
“Alright then… Felix.” He spoke quietly, contrasting the ecstatic face the shorter man was making as he bounced excitedly in place and shook Bruno’s hand with an eager speed. “I still don’t trust you, but I’ll… grant you respite. From my wrath, I mean.”
Felix didn’t even flinch, just cheerfully clapping Bruno on the back with a wide smile, “Gracias! So, are—”
His words were cut off by a clap of thunder, sudden and obstructive. Bruno stood up straighter, intensity back in his gaze, though it lacked any luminance of green. “No, that’s a bad omen if I’ve ever seen one! No, no, nope, nada, not today!” he started trying to shove Felix, failing due to the sturdiness of the latter child, “The skies are splitting open! I’m not doing this!”
Felix put a hand on Bruno’s shoulder, alarming both of them with the way it seemed to power down Bruno’s panic for a moment long enough for it to register the silence. Slinking to the left, Bruno got out from under the thick and comforting touch.
“D-don’t touch me, Felix!” he tried to shout, but it came out as more of a whine as he took several shaky steps to the wall, beginning to knock fervently on pre-selected random spots. “Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood!” he completed it with a knock to his skull, the crack sound resonating in the air like lightning.
“Hey, woah, it’s alright, bro,” Felix spoke gently, hands up placatingly. He gestured with his head towards the door, “Listen to the outside, kay? No more thunder. Pepa probably just stubbed her toe or something.”
Harsh eyes once again locked onto Felix, “It’s not Pepa’s fault! She—you try controlling your emotions every day, you capullo! Que te folle un pez!”
“Woah, woah,” Felix’s expression went shockingly serious, “Listen, man, I am never gonna talk bad about Pepa. Or Julieta, for that matter. Pepa is a wonderful girl, and I’d fight anybody who blames her for the weather.”
Bruno studied him for a moment, gaging his seriousness. His expression never faltered for a moment, and Bruno let himself take a deep breath. “You—yes, that’s… okay.” He sighed, not seeing any more thunder and deciding it was likely not actually an omen. “Yeah. I’m the bad one, not Pepi."
"Bad one?" Felix chuckled, taking Bruno by surprise, “You aren’t bad, Bruno, you’re just… quirky.”
Bruno couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this, crossing his arms, “Is that the tonto del culo version of ‘a freak’?”
“Nah. You’re not a freak. Just different.” He looked like he wanted to pat Bruno on the arm or back again, but held himself back, “It’s a good different, though.”
Letting out a humored snort, Bruno rolled his eyes. It was easier to try and fall into his dangerous persona than anything else. Maybe Felix would leave, but probably not—at least he’d know not to mess with Bruno.
A few old crates lay discarded in the corner, and Felix seemed to notice them, picking one up and shifting it out from the corner to use it as a seat. Bruno hesitated, but followed him and sat on another crate against the wall, never taking his eyes off Felix.
“So,” Felix broke the silence after a moment, leaning back in his seat casually, “What’s the deal with this place? I mean, it’s been all abandoned for ages, then everybody suddenly knows to stay away from it, cause you stay here so often.”
Bruno just blinked at him, uncertain. “Um. Yeah. That’s basically it.” He glanced up at the bottles, hoping they could finally take some of the bad luck away.
A light chuckle surprised Bruno once again, and Felix looked at him with a smile. “Bro, I meant, like, why did you suddenly claim this place? I mean, I came out here once with a friend, and it was nasty. Mold and empty bottles everywhere. Why this place, of all the places?”
“I…” Bruno wrinkled his nose at the perceived insult to his sanctuary, “It’s good. Far away from everybody and their—their prying eyes. I like being alone.” He practically spat his words, glaring at nothing in particular with his arms crossed.
“I do too, sometimes,” Felix shrugged, “but I can’t imagine going out into an abandoned barn to be alone. Let alone cleaning it up as well as you did.”
“Just hung up the bottles, really.” Bruno shifted uncomfortably, disguise it as he tried, “And besides, it’s a damn good abandoned barn. The whole area is secluded off from anybody else. All mine.”
He grinned mischievously at Bruno, “So it’s like your own, like, mini kingdom. Does that make you the ruler?”
Any other time, Bruno would have sneered at the notion that he was anything more than a worthless prophet. But something about the way Felix grinned—something in the way he spoke—it practically forced Bruno to give a little snort before taking on his own grin. “Yeah, dude. I’m the King of Bottle Street.”
Snapping fingers and a surprised expression rewarded Bruno, “Hell, that’s got a good ring to it, eh? King of Bottle Street.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Bruno smiled more to himself than to Felix, though he did turn to the latter boy with mischief all his own, “Hey, what’re you, then? The Grand Duke of Bottle Street?”
Felix practically leapt to his feet, bowing dramatically and putting on a pompous voice, “Sire!”
A laugh erupted from Bruno’s lips before he could stifle it, though he did smack his hands over his mouth immediately after. Felix, on the other hand, didn’t stop his own laugher. The sound was massively infectious, and soon Bruno couldn’t suppress the little giggles that left him, slowly building into loud and side-aching laughter that bounced around the dusty barn and shone through glass bottles.
With high pitched sighs, their laughter fizzled and foamed to a stop, leaving both boys out of breath as they sagged against the crates they sat on. Neither said much of anything for a long time, until it was broken, surprisingly, by Bruno.
“Why did you really come out here, man?” he asked airily, “I mean, it’s not like either of us are actual royalty or anything. You knew I would be here. So why?”
Felix just gave a wistful smile, “Because I knew you would be here. Simple.”
“Who would want that?” Bruno wrinkled his nose with a small grin, “You must be slow, man.”
“Well, good thing I am, then. It’s not every day that you meet the King of Bottle Street.” He leaned against the wall contentedly, and Bruno once again couldn’t help but chuckle.
A thought occurred to him, and he grinned. “That’d be a fun name for some secret society. The Kings of Bottle Street.”
“Hey, it’s got two members!” Felix beamed, raising a hand, “That is, if you’ll have me.”
“I don’t know, let me ask the leader.” Bruno grinned cheekily, going quiet for a moment before nodding, “Approved. You’re in.”
Felix whooped, pumping a fist in the air. “Alright! That’s what I’m talking about!”
The seventeenth meeting of the Kings of Bottle Street began as normal. Felix showed up at some point in the early afternoon, and was entirely unsurprised to see Bruno had already arrived and taken refuge on one of the three worn out chairs Felix had found and brought to their secret hideout. That had been one of the best parts about forming their little alliance—the old barn was becoming a nicer place to be.
“Yo, check out what I got!” Felix beamed with pride as he knocked five times on the board beside the door followed by a clap—every good secret society needs a secret knock—entering the barn with bounce in his step. He held up a little metal rectangle, and Bruno snorted.
“Honestly, I should’ve known you’d get a harmonica. It’s loud, a bit obnoxious; clearly, it’s a perfect fit.” Bruno smirked from his chair, playing with a rat on his lap.
Felix flopped down into his own chair, twirling the harmonica around his fingers, “To be fair, it’s my third one. This one is in a different key, so it’s like a new thing a little.”
“Felix. Dude.” Bruno deadpanned, “I am not a music guy. You might as well be speaking Chinese.”
A quick riff sounded pleasantly from the harmonica, followed by Felix blowing raspberries at Bruno. “You’re just jealous of my super cool harmonica-playing abilities, bro.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Felix played around with the harmonica for a little bit, Bruno content for a quieter day. Sometimes the best meetings consisted of them doing whatever they pleased, just with the other near them. Though, their uneventful day quickly changed gears as they heard a shout crescendo as it drew near.
As the voice approached closer and closer, words could be made out, “—bees, not the bees, leave me alone!”
Suddenly, a boy practically collapsed into the barn, head slamming against a wooden board and sending him onto his back in the dirt. A small buzzing could be heard, but it seemed the bees dispersed shortly after. While Bruno had wedged himself into the corner in shock and fear, Felix rushed to the boy’s aid.
“Holy guacamole, you sure took a tumble there, eh?” he helped the boy stand, revealing how impressively tall he was. “You alright, man?”
The boy merely grinned, brushing the dirt off the knees of his trousers and fixing his crooked glasses. “Oh, yeah, I’m alright. The bees and I just have a complicated relationship.” He chuckled.
Seeming to finally remember himself, Bruno unfolded himself from the corner and stood menacingly with his hood up, a scowl on his face. “Who are you? What do want, coming all the way out here to my barn?”
The boy blinked at Bruno, seeming surprised. Felix cringed for a moment, but was quickly proven wrong in his suspicions as a gentle and caring smile emerged on the tall boy’s face. “Oh, right. I’m Agustin! Nice to meet you!”
He extended a hand towards Bruno cheerfully. Bruno looked at it doubtfully, sparing a glance or two to Felix.
“Bruno, the kid just got defeated by a plank of wood and some bees. I don’t think he’s particularly threatening.”
“I—I’m not!” Bruno stammered before glaring harshly at Agustin, “I’m not scared of you.”
Agustin just smiled patiently, lowering his hand, “Well, I’m glad. I’d rather you not be scared of me of all people. Then how could we be friends?”
Once again, that suspicious look emerged on Bruno. He squinted at Agustin, seeming to assess him for something. “You… why would you want to be friends?”
“Well, I—” Agustin was cut off as he took a step forward, tripping over his own foot and faceplanting into the dust. Felix snorted, moving to help him up.
“It’s decided. I’m keeping him.” Felix grinned, much to Bruno’s frustration.
“What makes you think you can just keep him?” Bruno gestured vaguely, “You can’t take every random person under your wing, dude.”
Felix shrugged, “I kept you.”
Stammering, Bruno resigned himself to sit back down in his chair. Felix followed behind, as did Agustin. Sitting around casually, the three glanced between each other.
“I like the bottles.” Agustin spoke abruptly, “To catch evil spirits, right?”
Bruno straightened his posture, surprised. “Y-yeah. Well, more to catch bad luck, but it’s the same sentiment, really. Plus there was a lot of litter around here, so I figured I’d just clean up by hanging them. It looks kinda cool, I think, and—and I’ve been talking for too long I’m gonna shut up now, sorry.” Bruno ended suddenly, redder than when he started. Agustin just chuckled.
“No, it’s cool. It was interesting.” He smiled at Bruno, and Felix could practically feel the caring vibe emanating from the tall boy. “Don’t apologize for talking about things you like.”
Bruno shrugged, looking away. Both other boys caught the little smile that formed on his face.
“I never caught your names, by the way.” Agustin smiled.
“Oh!” Felix extended a hand to him, “Well I’m Felix!”
Agustin took his hand, shaking it once in a sharp motion. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” He turned to face Bruno, “I take it you aren’t too keen on touch?”
“Sometimes, yeah…” Bruno muttered, though he was looking at Agustin again, “Sorry.”
“It’s cool, friend. I don’t mind.” He spoke patiently, “What’s your name?”
He hesitated for a moment, but finally spoke in a near whisper. “Bruno.”
Recognition flashed over Agustin’s face, and it was clear he had just made the connection and now knew exactly who Bruno was. Felix held his breath, uncertain how he would react to realizing he was in the presence of the widely disliked seer.
Dispelling all the tension in the room, Agustin gave a little wave and a big smile, “Well, nice to meet you, Bruno.”
Bruno waved back, and Felix sighed in relief.
“Well, bro,” Felix clapped Agustin on the shoulder, “welcome to the Kings of Bottle Street.”
The harmonica was out before either other boy could protest, and a jaunty little tune sounded in the barn. Bruno rolled his eyes, but Agustin’s lit up like a firework.
“Oh, a harmonica!” he beamed, “That’s so cool! I play piano, but it’s so cool to see other instruments!”
Felix grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at Bruno who merely scoffed with a little smile.
He continued the tune, and it only took a few minutes for Agustin to be rocking in his seat to the tune. Even Bruno was bobbing his head slightly to the tune. As the tempo picked up, a joyous laugh came from Agustin, who swung his arms as he swayed in his seat.
Felix leapt up from his seat, still playing his harmonica as he bopped around like a hyperactive saxophone player, dipping with certain notes and just all-around dancing. Laughing like a child, Agustin sprung up and danced with Felix. It was clumsy, uncoordinated, and reminiscent of a deer trying to ice skate, but the silly movements of his limbs paired with his bubbling laughter was enough.
He motioned for Bruno to join him, extending a hand for Bruno to take should he relent. After a moment, Bruno hesitantly put his bony hand in Agustin’s, only to be yanked up from his seat and rapidly twirled across the dusty floor. He gasped at first, but it quickly dissolved into laughter to rival Agustin’s as they both danced goofily around the barn.
Dust got kicked up and swirled around the humid air, and the harmonica music got slightly strained as Felix insisted on continuing to dance himself with the tune, but it felt like flying. Bruno bounded over to where a window was covered with a square of wood, and pulled it away to let the sun in. it reflected all through the glass bottles and onto the walls and floor, multicolor and twinkling.
Maybe it wouldn’t last. Perhaps such a joyful display of youth would end as Felix ran out of breath. Regardless, it was a brief but cherished respite from life itself. The world may have been a mess, but for brief moments as the Kings of Bottle Street, that world got to go topsy-turvy and things got to reflect around like sunlight through glass bottles. Spring became Autumn, the poor felt rich.
Bruno, Agustin, and Felix. The Kings of Bottle Street.