Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alan bobbed his head as he drove, groovin to some hip hop song on the radio on the way to work. It was almost noon, with this shift starting at 1, and the weather was nice. The sun was out, and it wasn’t too hot with a few sparse clouds drifting through the sky. He couldn’t help but be in a good mood. That was until he almost ran over that guy. The man stumbled out of the woods into the street, not even looking at Alan’s truck as it headed straight for him. Alan slammed on his breaks, yelping as he stared at him.

“Hey dumbass! There’s a sidewalk!” Alan shouted out the window. The guy flipped him off. “Prick.” He grumbled, mood soured as he drove past him, flipping him off back. He turned down the music and frowned, heading off to work. Nobody had any respect for drivers in this town! Green Lake wasn't even that big, he was sure he’d see that idiot again in a couple days. He parked behind the thrift store and tacked on his nametag onto his yellow t-shirt, tossing his lanyard over his shoulders. 

“Morning Alan!”

“Shut up, Stanley.” Alan mumbled, frowning. Stanley laughed, shaking his head.

“Rough start?” He asked, sticking some prices on a couple books.

“Asshole walked out into the street- I ought to’ve run him over.”

“Ought to.” Stanley shrugged his broad shoulders. “Say, did Walker ever tell you about that new guy she interviewed? She won't tell me anything.”

“She never tells anybody nothin’.” He shook his head, briefly walking into the break room and tossing his lunch in the fridge. “She wants to be mysterious so bad.” He said, stretching as he headed to the main counter.

“‘Kay well, it's working.” Stanley said, picking up the box of books and heading off to set them up.

“You got the aux this morning or is it me?” Alan called.

“Cords busted.”

“What? How!” Alan cried out, his day getting worse. “I cannot deal with that fuckin’ radio man.”

“You don’t wanna listen to cheesy love songs all day? Or about how life is so fun and awesome?” Stanley taunted. “Don’t worry. I asked Zero to bring me an extra cord from 'We can fix that'.”

“Thank God for that runt.”

“Don’t call him that, he’s cool.”

“Like you said you were cool?” He crossed his arms, leaning over the counter.

“I’m cool!” Stanley protested, pausing for a moment. “I’m cool to whom it matters.”

“What? Your mommy?” Alan pouted at him.

“At least-” Stanley bit his tongue. “Never mind.”

“I oughta run you over too.”

“Not with the ‘squid mobile’.” He feigned fear.

“Quit callin’ me that. You know I hate that.”

“That’s why I do it, Squid.” Alan shook his head, pulling a book out from under the main counter. In it were plenty of puzzles like word searches, sudoku puzzles, and crosswords to complete. Alan had completed exactly two of them before he called them stupid and gave up, leading to Stanley completing most of them. Only a few people ever really came in, with Walker coming in around 2 like always to see if anyone brought in anything good, which no one ever really did. She’d leave within the hour, leaving Alan and Stanley to themselves, helping the occasional customer. Alan really didn’t know how the shop was still open. Stanley was too afraid to ask. 

“Hey, Walker?” The woman looked up from the small sculpture she was examining.

“What?” She set it down, crossing her arms, looking down her nose at him.

“Uh, Stanley had a question earlier.” Alan threw her focus to the other boy, feeling his nerves spike at the way she looked at him. Stanley almost choked on his water. “What was it you wanted to ask her?” Stanley shot him a glare before his face dropped, looking up at Walker.

“Uh, I just remember you said you were interviewing someone new, and I was curious about how that went. We could use the extra hands when it comes to helping people that buy bigger furniture. Especially when it’s just one of us here.”

“Because your dumbass damn near broke that grandfather clock?” She raised an eyebrow at him. Stanley blushed, shrugging. Walker slightly smiled, running a hand over her ponytail. “I told him he could start sometime this week. I’m thinking about having him open since you two are allergic to getting anywhere before 10am.”

“I got here on time today.” Stanley mumbled.

“You’re the only one that does.” She looked over at Alan.

“Ma’am, in my defense- some asshole jumped out in front of my car.”

“So? You hit him and get your ass here on time.” She taunted. Stanley was only 40% sure she was joking.

“I was tellin’ him I should've hit him.” Alan gestured to Stanley. “But I’ll try to be better about bein’ on time.”

“You said that the last three times, Squid.” Walker scoffs. “His name is Ricky. I have him on the schedule for Friday. Is that all? I gotta appraise some of this junk.” She sighed, picking up the box and resting it on her hip.

“That's all Ms. Walker.” Stanley smiled, nodding at her as she turned to leave. She left as someone entered, the tension immediately falling from Stanley's shoulders.

The scrawny teen was in a big jersey and cargo pants, making his thin limbs look even smaller as he carried a box of old electronics. “What’s the warden doing here?” Zero asked. 

“Hey Hector.” Stanley smiled, ruffling his hair. “She was just leaving.”

“Hired some new kid.” Alan mumbled, twirling a toothpick in his mouth as he picked up a book. He sat on the counter, legs dangling off the edge.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded. “I got your aux.” Zero set his box down, rifling through it and picking up a cord.

“Actual life saver.” Squid took it from him, plugging his phone in and putting on his playlist. Alternative music drifted out of the old speakers, very welcome after sitting through a couple of hours of the same seven cheery pop songs. “What’s the shit in the box?” He gestured with his chin.

“Buncha old consoles and stuff my boss was gettin rid of. I’m taking that 3ds so don't even think about it, Caveman.” Zero swats Stanley's hand away from a green Yoshi themed console. “There’s some good stuff in here.”

“Holy shit is that a Walkman?” Stanley picked it up, mouth agape. “I always wanted one of these!”

Alan narrowed his eyes at him. “Maybe caveman is a good name for you.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’.” Zero shook his head, rifling through the box. “There's an old radio too, I think it’s an antique.”

“Why’s he getting rid of this stuff?” Squid asked, setting the book down and looking through the box. 

“Dude thinks they’re worthless cause they're old. I might take some of this to Barlow’s antique shop.”

“I’m sure Kate would love to get a look at some of this stuff.”

“Sweet ole lady.” Alan nods, picking up a smaller box of cassettes. “Aw cool! Can I keep these?” He turned one labeled ‘For Louis’ over in his hand.

“Go for it. I might try to pawn some of whatever y’all don't take.” Zero shrugged, sitting at an old table. Alan takes the small box with him, letting Stanley and Zero chat with each other. They’d become friends after Zero was put in an afterschool program for those that struggle with reading. Stanley was his mentor and they had gotten along pretty well, their friendship carrying on outside of school after Zero graduated the program. He really cared about that kid. Alan didn’t mind him so much. But now that he was older, high schoolers really just got on his nerves. Disregarding that he was a high schooler only a year or so ago. 

Alan sifted through the cassettes as the rest of his shift crawled on. Some were just music, some were blank, but most of them seemed like letters rather than songs, piquing his curiosity– and you'd have to kill him to get this information out of him– he was a bit of a softie for a good romance. There had been a couple times where Teddy had seen him sneaking into a romcom screening after paying for a ticket for a different movie. Teddy didn’t really care, but if Alan was embarrassed enough to be sneaking around, no one else really needed to know. The cassette labeled ‘For Louis’ had little purple flowers doodled on it in color pencil with dog stickers adorning the plastic. He wondered what was in it. Was it a love letter? Was Louis being broken up with? He was dying to know.

“Stanley.” He called the other over. Stanley sighed, leaning on the counter. “Look at this.” He showed him the cassette.

“Cute.”

“That’s all?”

“Should I have said more?”

“You're no fun. This don’t give you nothing? You’re not curious at all?”

“I mean– I am, but you just showed it to me like I was supposed to-”

“Whatever– what do you think is on this thing?” He swatted away his words and handed it to him. Stanley looked over it, his hazel eyes boring into the label. 

“Poor handwriting.” He mumbled. “Looks like your handwriting.”

“Hey-”

“No, like a dude wrote it.” He shrugged, handing it back to Alan.

“Hm. But it’s got love hearts on it?” He scrunched up his face.

“Some people are gay, Squid.” Stanley laughed.

“Yeah yeah…” He waved him off again. “Is there a cassette player in here?”

“This is a thrift shop, not an antique store. You’d have better luck at Barlow's, but you get off after it closes.”

“Shit. Say, what if you covered for me?” Alan said, already standing up.

“But I get off in like-”

“You’re such a lifesaver, man! I owe you one!” He grabbed his bag and slipped out the front door, pointing at him.

Stanley watched the door shut in his face, shaking his head. “Prick.” He mumbled, sitting at the front counter.

Alan hopped in his truck and started it up, heading over to Barlow's Antique shop, pulling into the parking deck further downtown. He jogged over to the shop, pushing open the door to the sound of an old bell.

“Welcome in.” An aged voice called. Alan smiled at Kate. “Hey Alan! What are you up to?” The old woman gave him a soft smile. Miss Barlow was probably the oldest living resident in Green Lake.

“I’m on the hunt for a cassette player. You happen to have one in here?”

“I believe we got one a little while ago from leftovers from an estate sale. Should be in the tech section.”

“Thank you Miss Barlow.” He tipped his hat to her. He walked through the shop, the warm dim lights humming overhead. He strolled, enjoying the cool air conditioning as he eyed some of the sections. The pottery caught his eye, staring down the intricate designs in the old polished clay. Moulded orchids wept over the edge of the mouth of one, the stems twisting along into the handles of it. If he had any extra cash, he’d love to bring it home. 

“It’s pretty ain’t it?” Someone asked. Alan nodded, briefly glancing at who was speaking. It was a guy who looked to be about his age. Lanky with a full head of curly blonde hair. Nice nose.

“Gorgeous. I’d oughta buy it, but I’m here for somethin’ else.” He smiled.

“Yeah? Like what?” His voice was flat, not really going up at the end when you usually ask a question.

“Cassette player.” Alan held up the small ‘For Louis’ cassette tape, having stashed that one in his pocket. “Found a bunch of 'em at the thrift store ‘round the corner.” He furrowed his brows a bit as the stranger plucked the tape from his hand, examining it closely. Alan watched him, having to look up at him a bit. Tall. 

“It’s got an 8 on it.” he pointed to something.

“Does it?” Alan moved closer, the guy holding it out a bit so the brunette could get a better look. “Huh, I guess it does.” He eyes the little 8 in the corner of the back of the tape. He was suddenly aware that he was standing way too close. He could practically feel the others' breath coming from his nose as they peered at the small tape.

“You know what that means, right?” The guy looked down at him, a soft smile on his face. The expression was more evident on one side of his face than the other, making it lopsided. Alan shook his head. “It’s a series. You gotta listen to them in order.” He handed the tape back to Alan, the cassette looking small in the blonde's large hands.

“Damn. I gotta sort through that box.”

“Ay, good luck man. I think I saw a cassette player near the back.” The stranger gestured. Alan nodded a soft thank you, heading towards where he pointed. He furrowed his brow before shaking off the encounter, trying to stay focused. He did want to try to get back before Stanley's shift was over. He found his way to the tech section, looking around until he picked up a small speaker looking object, popping it open to see the cassette fit perfectly into the case. Perfect. He jogged back over to the counter, watching that tall guy leave the shop. He sure had a lotta hair. He checked out and drove back over to the thrift shop, calling out as soon as he stepped in.

“Yo! Stanley!” The other looked up from his phone over at Alan with a bored expression. “Look, I’m sorry but guess what?”  He waved the little box at him.

“Cool.” He nodded. 

“Aw, don’t get all mopey on me now, this was urgent. Plus some dude helped me out, this is the 8th tape in that big box set. I gotta put ‘em in order.”

“I’m not helping you with that. You can count, squid.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just head home big guy, I’ve taken enough of your time.”

“I’ll see you Saturday.” Stanley slightly smiled, grabbing his bag. “I’m not upset with you. Just been a long day.”

“Naw, I get it. Get home safe, Caveman.” Alan tilted his hat at him, giving him a smile as he left for the day.  “Now…” He picked up the box of cassettes, starting to pull them out.

1/?

Chapter Text

“ So…Gosh this is silly, ain't it? It’s just as good as a journal though. I can’t be bothered to keep track of a notebook so I guess this’ll do”  Alan hummed as he listened to the first tape titled ‘Something new’. Stanley had been right, it was a boy's voice on the tapes. It initially put Alan off, something about it just feeling off, but his curiosity got the better of him. “I just wanted to make something that would last. Something that my parents wouldn’t find as easily as the other logs I had tried to make. Who would've thought scrapbooking would be so precarious?”  The boy gave a hollow laugh. “Ah, I gotta be careful with time, I bought a box of the cheap cassettes so I only get about 30 minutes. I doubt I even have much to say.” Alan looks down into the box,  eyeing how it was filled with cassettes. Seemed like he had a ton to say. He listened in his headphones as he cleaned up the living room, tossing some empty bottles his mom had left around in a bag. He planned to take them down to the recycling center in the next city over for some extra cash. “I just wanted something that I could be honest in. I feel like,” the boy pauses, the sound of crickets chirping filling the silence, “Like I was always worried someone would find what I was writing or drawing. Of course people could find this too, but maybe they’d be put off by seeing how many are in the box? Like reading one paper is one thing, and it always starts at the front of the book, but tossing a bunch of cassettes in a box, and no one knows where to start but me.” ‘Something new’ wasn’t decorated like the later tapes in the series, just having the title and the little faded sticker on the backside.  The first tape was just the kid explaining his plans for this set of cassettes, a longform diary of some sort. Alan couldn’t help but be a little invested. The kid also had a pretty easy voice to listen to. He stashed the tape, a notebook, a pen, and a pair of headphones in his bag and headed off to work.

His promise to show up early had not been met, but when he showed up, a different car was there. Right, the new guy. What was his name? Ritchie? Robbie? One of those were right, Alan shrugged, getting out of his truck and bringing his things inside. Alan walked in, looking around the place to see an empty building. The door had been slightly ajar. Had it been left unlocked? Or was the Warden there? “Hello?” Alan called– not too loud, just to get anyone’s attention who might’ve been in here. No answer. “Miss Walker?” He tried again. Alan picked up an old baseball bat, clutching the base as he inched through the store. He couldn’t see anything in the clothes section, but the furniture was a lot more crowded. He crept closer, adjusting his grip.

“Who are we looking for?” Alan spun around and raised his bat, tensing as he looked at the person.

“Dude. What the fuck?” He shoved the other guy's shoulder, recognizing him as the guy that was in the antique shop. He was standing over him, gaze trained right above his head “Why are you here? I didn’t unlock the store.”

“Ms. Walker gave me a spare key?” He titled his head as he looked down at Alan. He stepped a bit closer before looking around. “Did you see someone? What’s with the bat?” Alan looked him over, his brows furrowed in anger.

“It’s for you, weirdo. I didn’t know anyone else was here.” He shoved it into his arms. “Ritchie?”

“Ricky. I go by Ziggy though.” Ricky shrugged. “Did Ms. Walker not tell you I’d be coming?”

“She did-”

“Y’know she told me you’d probably be late, it's why she gave me the spare key. Are you Stanley or Alan?”

“Guess.” Alan huffed, his heart slowing as he stalked back to the counter, putting his head in his hands. 

“You look like a Stanley.”

“The hell I do.” He looked up at him. Ricky laughed. 

“Alan it is then. Say, did you ever listen to that tape you had?” He followed him to the counter, leaning on it as Alan set up shop. “I thought I’d never see you again so this is a blessin’.” He grinned.

“They’re borin.” Alan dismissed, shaking his head. “Go work or somethin.”

Ricky looked around the store. “There’s no customers.” Alan gave an exaggerated sigh. He looked over at the blonde. He didn’t like how still he was, his mossy blue eyes never roaming. “Besides, I’ve already organized everythin’.”

“Fine; Yes I listened to the tape, it wasn't boring.” He crossed his arms, slightly turning up his nose in indignation. “I have it with me if you want to listen, or whatever.”

“Oh I’d love that.” Ricky nodded, standing up. “Anything is better than this radio.”

“Right?” The tension started to fall from his body. “The aux cord is hidden under the counter.” He motions for him to come around the counter, the boy standing too close. Alan stepped aside, “The Warden doesn’t like what she can’t control.”

“Warden?”

“Shit- sorry. That’s what my friends call Ms.Walker. She’s very…commanding.”

“Lil scary?” His mouth twitched down as he inspected the cord.

“Yeah.” Alan shook his head, scooting himself on top of the counter, rifling through his bag. He pulled out his cassette player, setting it down on the table and popping in the first tape again. They didn’t talk much, Alan playing a matching game on his phone while Ricky organized some of the clothes. Alan would occasionally watch him work. Ricky stood a bit hunched, probably from always being the tallest in the room. His hands never really rested at his sides, the blonde typically wringing them and rolling his wrists, causing a small popping noise whenever he did it. Ricky smiled as the kid's voice filled the silence, invested in what he was saying. Alan took the time to take notes, having really nothing better to do other than his job. 

“What’s up fuckers!” The door flung open, the bell above the door dinging.

Alan jumped, putting his face in his hands. “Magnet, please. I’m beggin you to come in like a normal person.” 

“A normal person wouldn’t come in here, Squid.” Jose laughed strutting up to the counter with Rex behind him. “Who is this sad sack you got playin’ on the radio?” He jutted his chin at the cassette player. “Is the apocalypse coming’? Why’d you go retro?”

“One question at a time, man.” Alan ran a hand over his head, looking over at Jose. “Zero brought in a bunch of tapes ‘cause his boss was throwin’ em out so I took them.” Alan shrugged. “They seem cool.”

“They’re depressing man, turn this shit off.” Rex mumbled, looking down at his phone. 

“Right, whatever.” Alan laughed, pausing the tape. He stashed it and the notebook back in his bag, leaning on the counter. “What y’all got goin on today?”

“I need some new material for bandanas. X just wanted to tag along, I swear this fool can’t live without me- ow!” Jose flinched as Rex flicked his ear.

“Yeah, right. I was lookin’ for a lamp for my mom. She tore my ass up after I broke the last one she had.” Rex sighed, crossing his arms. “Jose said y’all had some good stuff.”

“Oh yeah, we got junk, and junk that doesn’t work like it's supposed to.” Alan rolled his eyes, grinning as Jose’s goofy laugh filled the silence. “Go look around.” Jose gave him a peace sign and wandered off. Rex approached the counter, beckoning Alan closer with a finger. “What’s up?”

“What’s up with Slenderman over there?” He jerks his head to the left. On the far end of the shop, Ricky stood there with a lamp in his hands, examining it. 

Alan lowered his voice, a slight smile on his face. “That's Ziggy, he’s new.”

“Why Ziggy?” Rex made a face as Alan shrugged. “His vibe is rancid.”

“Right?” Alan sighed. “I’m just tryin’ to keep him busy before he starts askin’ me to ‘find his pages’ or somethin’.” They snickered. Rex shoved his shoulder a bit, laughing.

“You’re ridiculous.” Rex looked down as his phone buzzed, “Shit, my mom is on her way home, I’ll be lookin at lamps,” Rex strode off to the furniture section, looking around when Ricky approached him. He simply offered the porcelain lamp, not saying anything Rex could hear till he asked him to speak up. “What you gotta say, Ziggy?”

“This lamp is lovely. I think it’s uh, very maternal-like. Like if a mother walked into this room right now, she’d be drawn to this lamp in particular.” Alan snickered at Ricky’s attempt to make a sale. 

“Yeah? Not my mother.”

“And that’s the beauty of moms, they’re all different.” Ricky gave a crooked smirk, looking down at Rex. “There’s more lamps this way, c’mon.” He beckoned him to follow. Rex looked at Alan and shook his head gesturing to Ricky’s back as he walked away with an incredulous look on his face. ‘Is this dude serious?’.

It was a slow day after Alan's friends left. He popped the cassette back on and quietly took notes while Ricky browsed the store. Ms.Walker didn’t even bother to show up that day. The ache of time was starting to get to him. He caught Ricky’s attention, gesturing outdoors and left through the break room. Alan squinted as he stepped out into the midday sun, getting caught in the rays that, if he didn’t know any better, were concentrating trying to turn the asphalt into magma.  He pulled his lighter from his pocket, flicking it in his fingers, watching it for a second before lighting a cigarette and leaning against the wall. It’d be a nice day save for the fact he was boiling alive.

Alan checked his phone as it buzzed, reading a text from Magnet reminding him about the party down at the old Trout property. He'd mentioned something about it before he left. It could be fun to go, maybe have a couple drinks. Anything was better than heading straight home.

Chapter Text

The couch never seemed to get more comfortable. Its frame was old and sagging, and a tad mildewy, but it was soft enough for Ricky to call it a bed, and that was enough. He’d offered his older sister the only bedroom, claiming he’d be alright on the couch, but the constant crick in his neck reminded him otherwise. He stretched and sat up, glancing at the time on the microwave and forced himself to get up. He had to. He drug himself up and went over to the sink, splashing water on his face, flinching as it was warmer than expected, making him just feel sweaty. He pulled a paper towel off the roll and wiped his face off. He quietly entered his sister's room, noting she was still asleep after her night shift. He rifled through the small closet, changing into day clothes, tossing his pajamas into the hamper. He huffed, prying his eyes open as he looked in the mirror, trying to wake himself up. He had to wake up earlier than he would've liked to make it to his new job on time, the walk being almost an hour from the trailer park. He mildly did his hair, knowing the southern wet humidity would have it sticking up sooner than later anyways.

Ricky started his trek, having his phone charger, phone, and headphones stashed in his bag. He only wore one earbud, planning to wear the other one on the way back. Green Lake was pretty. Tall ancient oak trees provided enough shade from the morning sun starting to peek over the horizon. The downtown area was rustic with mostly aged brick buildings with the occasional newer stucco place that switched owners every couple of months. Ricky and his sister were fairly new in town, having left their parents' place as soon as physically and financially possible. Their new place wasn’t much, but it was safe. He turned up the pop folk song in his ear, humming along as he traveled down the dirt path where a sidewalk should be. He couldn't lie, the idea of being in a new place terrified him, but he’d made himself familiar with the route to downtown to ease a bit of his nerves. He’d even settled with that off feeling Ms. Walker gave him. She was commanding, and damn near as tall as him, but there was something more cutthroat about her that set off alarm bells in his head. But he really needed this job. He was willing to put up with anything at this point, bills needed to be paid and groceries needed to be bought.

Ricky  huffed a bit as he made it to town, finally seeing the thrift shop come into view. The signage ‘Green Lake Thrift’ allowed no room for imagination. He checked his phone, 7:12. He’d been early. He sat down, taking a couple minutes to relax, shutting his eyes as he leaned his head against the cool metal door. It was the first cool thing he’d come in contact with all day, truly giving him a moment of relaxation, however short lived it ended up being.

He remembered something.

Shit. Ricky sat up, swinging his bag to his front and digging through it, cursing as he failed to find the key Ms. Walker had given him. He dug around finding a paperclip. That would have to do. He shoved it into the lock, digging around in his pocket till he found one of his sister's bobby pins stuck to one of his pockets. He sighed, thanking whoever was listening, fiddling around till the lock clicked open. He went inside, looking around. It was cozy. It had that ‘slightly used’ smell, but it was comforting. He clocked in, seeing who else was on the schedule. There were only 2 other names Alan and Stanley. He was working with Alan today. He hummed as he explored the shop. In his head he could only picture Alan as an older man that had hair so slicked back he might as well have been bald. Stanley looked like a stoner in his head, always functioning at 70% with pink eyes. Wearing one of those striped woven looking hoodies.

Ricky spent the morning looking through stuff when he heard a vaguely familiar voice carry through the store. 

“Hello? Miss Walker?” Ricky peeked around the corner of the mugs section, seeing the back of the kid he’d seen yesterday at the antique shop. That was Alan? Hm. Screw that, who was he looking for? He felt his anxiety spike, getting close to him, scanning the area. 

“Who are we looking for?” He leaned back a little as Alan almost swung at him, looking back up at the room.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Ricky tilted his head. Alan asked what he was doing in the store, saying he hadn’t unlocked the door. He bit his cheek, deciding to just lie about it, claiming Ms. Walker gave him a spare key. He changed the subject, asking if he saw anyone when the other shoved the bat in his arms. He looked it over, lying it at the end of the aisle, resting on an endcap. He followed him to the counter, opting to call him the wrong name like Alan had just done to him, receiving a scowl and response of “The hell I do.” Ricky laughed. He liked his energy.

“Say, did you ever listen to that tape you had?” He leaned on the counter, watching him place a couple things down like a water bottle and a small notebook. He looked him over, particularly fond of the brunette's big ears. “I thought I’d never see you again, so this is a blessin’.” He felt himself smile.

“They’re borin, go work or somethin.” Ricky stood up, glancing around the store. He’d already done everything that really needed to be done. Clothes were a little better organized. That box of trinkets was organized on the proper shelves. Hell, he’d even swept most of the place.

“There's no customers.” he looked at his nose, avoiding direct eye contact. “Besides, I’ve already organized everythin.” Alan sighed, his resolve cracking. 

“Fine; Yes I listened to the tape, it wasn't boring.” the brunette crossed his arms. “I have it with me if you want to listen, or whatever.”

“Oh I’d love that.” Ricky nodded, smiling. “Anything is better than this radio.” He sighed. The loop of whatever radio was on was starting to drive him nuts. Alan showed him where the aux cord was and set up the cassette to play. He was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia, really feeling what it was like to need to express himself in a place that made him feel like he couldn't. He messed around with some of the clothes, looking through them as he listened, needing something to do with his hands. The dull anxiety of the day made him roll his wrist a bit, a habit he’d repeat to ease his nerves. He had a lot of habits most people thought were weird. He’d look past whoever he was talking to, or make too much eye contact. Or he’d wring his hands. Or his posturing was weird, slightly hunched over, or rolling his shoulders back to stop him from slouching which he’d forget about and do it over and over till he gave up, opting to slouch. He spoke flatly, not having a lot of intonation or variation. He couldn’t help it, that’s just how he was.

He fumbled his way through offering a lamp to one of, what he had to assume was Alan's friend, leading him over to the furniture section. 

“Do you know what your mom would like? Is she more elegant? Is she uh, classy? Or does she prefer a more rustic vibe?”

“What do you think, Ziggy?” Ricky looked down at the other, being peered at through thick glasses.  He hesitated.

“I don’t know your mom, I can’t say. What kind did you break?”

“Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Squid?”

“You were the only two people talking in the store, it’s impossible not to hear.” He answered, setting down the nice lamp he’d picked up earlier and crossing his hands behind his back, rubbing his fingers.

Rex shook his head “It looked like this.” He showed him a picture on his phone. He peered down at the boxy lamp, looking at the lampshade that was reminiscent of stained glass. 

“Oh. Mission style. There’s some over here.” Rex followed him, watching him point to a lamp similar in style. 

“Shit, Ziggy, I think you just saved my afternoon.” He clamped him on the shoulder, making sure it worked before taking it back up to the counter where Alan was. He slightly smiled, feeling better about their initial interaction.

“Yo, Slenderman.” Jose called.

“Please don’t call me that-”

“Yeah sure– which fabric do you like more?” He held up two different patterned shirts. “I make clothes and stuff. I’m making bandanas with this stuff though.”

“Hm.” He stared at the two shirts, one was loud, covered in swans and flowers while the other one was art deco, a navy blue with a gold repeating arc pattern. He reached out, feeling both of them, tsking a little at the art deco one.

“What?” Magnet looked up at him. 

“This one,” he points at it, “feels wrong. It’s definitely pretty, but it feels like it’d start itchin after a few minutes. Plus this one is lighter and feels softer.”

“You sure?” He asked, feeling the fabric again, nodding. “Shit, you right.” He nodded, smiling. “Thanks Slenderman.”

“It’s Ziggy.”

“Yeah cool,” He waves him off, headed towards the counter. Jose spoke to Alan leaning over the counter as he wrung him up.

“This shirt is an affront to god.” Alan muttered, making Jose laugh, the odd sound filling the space.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m throwing-” He suddenly turned around. “Ziggy, you party?”

“Uh, I guess.” He shrugged. 

“Having a party tonight, should be by the old watermill. You can come if you want- I promise there’s chicks.” Jose offered. Alan rolled his eyes as he bagged the shirt. “I’ll see y’all later.”

He nodded as Alan waved him down, the other pointing to himself and then the back door, watching as he stepped out of the store through the back door, watching as he pulled a little yellow lighter out of his pocket. Ricky couldn’t help but smile as he worked. He hadn’t been so openly invited somewhere in a long time. He had ‘tagged along places’ but this was different. He had to go. He dialed up his sister.

“What’s wrong?” She asked before he even said hello.

“What? Nothing.” Ricky softly laughed. “I got invited to a party.”

“What! Cool.” She dragged out the o. Ricky could hear her smiling on the other end. “You can go if you want to. Do you know the person who invited you?”

“Uh, friend of my coworker? He makes bandanas. He seemed cool.” Ricky shrugged, putting the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he paced around. “I just wanted to let you know If I get home late.”

“It’s cool, Ricky. Enjoy the party. Make some friends okay?” she teased.

“God, I’ll try.” He sighed, knowing that wasn’t his strong suit. “ I’ll call you when I get there and when I’m on my way home, okay Lucy?”

“Alright Ricky.” She said, hanging up. 

Ricky checked the store to make sure no one was in there before peeking his head out the back door. He saw Alan squatting, playing a game on his phone with a burning cigarette in his fingers, more focused on the game. Alan turned his head, looking up at him. “What?”

“Do you know where the Trout place is?”

“You goin to the party?” the brunette raised an eyebrow at him. Ricky nodded. Alan sighed as he stood up. “I guess I’ll take you.” He shrugged. He chucked the rest of his cigarette on the ground, peering inside the store. “We can close early. Ain’t nobody here anyways.” They closed up the store for the afternoon, locking up and shutting off lights, straightening up and checking the register. Everything was in order. Dusty, but right.

“Your truck is cool.” Ricky hummed, getting in the passenger side, looking at the small stuffed animal charm hanging from the rearview. A little blue squid with a happy face. “I like him.” He smiled, gesturing.

“‘Squid Mobile’.” Alan mumbled, starting the car, immediately turning on the air. “Wait- didn’t you drive here? Dude, your car is gone-”

“Holy shit really?” Ricky looked around before laughing. “That sucks.”

Alan furrowed his eyebrows, looking at him. “...Shouldn’t we call someone?”

“Oh, no please don’t.” He put his hands up, “I was joking. I don’t own a car.” He snickered.

“Then who’s car was that?”

“Probably someone grabbing food round the corner. Don’t worry too much.” He shrugged. “What are Bandana guys parties like? He seems like the movie-house party type?”

“Jose? Why’s that?”

“I dunno.” Ricky shrugged, enjoying the air as Alan pulled out of the parking lot “he invited a total stranger to a party in some random location.”

“He’s just like that.” Alan shrugged. Ricky hummed and nodded. The ride was generally quiet other than Alan’s radio. Ricky was more focused on the view of the town rolling by. He had been trying to push down the growing anxiety of a party setting, knowing that wasn't always his favorite place to be. He was just going to focus on making friends. Maybe then he’d have more to do in this town other than walk to work and walk home.

Chapter Text

The water mill came into view like the promised land. The big overgrown mill rested there, sitting broken on the dry muddy bed, covered in overgrown vines and branches. Down next to it were a couple of boys setting things up. Alan grinned as he pulled over the gravel, parking crookedly and hopping out. Ricky got out after him, feeling awkward as he stood near the truck.

“Howdy boys!” He shouted, clearly overexcited as he jogged out to the group, throwing out his arms. He almost knocked Teddy over as he threw himself on him, squeezing him tight. “Where have you been, Pit? It’s been like 40 years since I saw you! You goin grey yet?” He peered down at his hair, laughing as Teddy knocked him off. 

“You wish. I know you enjoy the salt and pepper look, but that ain't me yet. This new job is making it set in early though, man.” He sighed, glancing over Alan's shoulder. “Squid mobile is looking good. Clean for once-”

“We live in like, dirt city, you can't blame me for not wanting to wash that thing- It’s like making your bed.” Teddy laughed at the others answer, being distracted from something he thought he saw near the truck.

“Making your bed makes you more likely to wanna sleep in it, y'know?" Stanley said, starting to unload a big speaker from the back of Magnet's car.

“No it doesn’t.” Alan scrunched up his face, leaning on Teddy. “It makes me feel like all my hard work is wasted.”

“Okay well, you sleep like an ape hopped up on red bull.” Stanley huffed.

Alan gasped. “I do not-”

“Guys,” Magnet interrupted, digging through his trunk. “Hate to break up…whatever that is but can y’all lazy asses help? Don’t make Stanley do this on his own.” He said, looking down at his phone. Zero gestured at Magnet with his thumb. 

“Uh, I can help.” A few turned at the unfamiliar voice.

“Oh– Ziggy! Cool, I didn’t think you were coming! We could use an extra hand setting up, Zero brought this fuckass generator and forgot how to set it up-” Magnet grinned as Zero cut him off. The others relaxed at Magnet acknowledging him. He was always bringing around new people.

“Look I just sell the shit, they don’t require me to know literally everything about every piece of technology that has ever existed because that’d be insane-” Ricky picked up the other end of the speaker to help who he assumed to be Stanley, getting familiar with his other coworker. 

“But you should at the very least  know how to use what you're bringing if the event relies solely on the one thing you are bringing.” They glared at each other. “Whatever man, just help me set this shit up? I’m working on the set for tonight.”

“Yeah, cause your JBL has gotta know in advance so she can be prepared.” Teddy laughed, nudging Magnet as he grabbed the other speaker with Alan.

“Leave Tina Turn-it-up out of this.” He mumbled. Alan rolled his eyes and Zero cringed.

“You’re so shit at names.” Alan rolled his eyes harder and shook his head. “What happened to just Jennifer Coolidge?”

“Her name wasn’t a pun, so I had to change it up.” He walked towards the old house attached to the mill, running in front to open the door for Stanley and Ricky. “The power isn't always the best in here, so I wanted the generator. Especially since I wanted to decorate a bit.” He gestured for the first two to set down the speakers in the old dingy first floor. There was a bit of old furniture scattered around, having been converted into a hangout spot by the local youth. Magnet had done it first, back when the majority of them were in high school, evident by the crude wooden sign hanging off the fireplace reading ‘Magnet’s Crib! Don’t fuck it up :)”. There were a couple couches, a table, and an empty cooler. The others fell into quiet conversation as they set up the supplies, Jose and Alan working on the decorations, with Rex and Teddy setting up the snacks and drinks, dumping ice into the cooler. 

Zero, Stanley, and Ricky were outside working on the generator.

“Alright y’all, I found a Youtube video.” Zero said, leaning on the wall.

“If this amounts to pressing the on button, me and Magnet get to kick your ass.” Stanley said, slightly sweaty from having to do the brunt of the work. Ricky softly laughed.

“It won’t.” Zero waved him off, watching the video. “Okay he says flip…flip the switch to on-”

“Hector!”

“Man, whatever!” Zero playfully shoved Stanley. Ricky laughed, switching it on, it starting to hum. “See! It’s on whatever. And it’s solar powered, so we can leave it out here till more people show up. Mag can just use his JBL till then.”

“You mean Tina Turn-it-up?” Ricky asked, slightly smiling. 

“That god awful name. Disgrace to Ms. Turner.” Stanley sighed, holding the door open for the others to file in to see Rex and Teddy arguing about placement.

“Why the fuck would the chips go in the middle, Pit?”

“It’s a fucking circuit they start at the plates, get real food, and then end with the snack bowl. We bought plates for this specific reason- you're fuckin up the feng shui.”

“This is a party, pit. Who the hell is thinking about feng shui?”

“Him apparently.” Zero mumbled, throwing himself on the couch.

“Ziggy, where do we place the chips?” They turned to him. The two glared up at him, Rex crossing his arms and Teddy putting his hands on his hips. Ricky eyed the table. There was some kind of taco bar it seemed? There was all the fixings with a couple different types of meats and tortillas, and at the end of the table were different bowls of chips. With the logistics of the room, a circuit just wouldn’t work, and would clog up the food table.

“Middle. Most people would only want to come up, grab a couple chips and keep it movin. Though the circuit is a nice idea. Also less risk of someone knocking over the chip bowl.” Ricky patted the edge of the table.

“Ziggy once again, solvin’ problems.” Rex smiled.

“Man- who is this fool, Mags?” Teddy asked, reluctantly switching the spots of the chips and the napkins, still keeping the rest of his circuit. 

“He works with Squid.” Jose mumbled, pinning up a dartboard.

“Oh shit- You’re Ricky?” Stanley asked, popping open a soda and sitting next to Zero. “I’m Stanley, we’ll be working together tomorrow.” 

“Good to meet you man.” He stuck his hand out and Stanley shook it, smiling up at him. “You look like a Stanley.”

“Doesn’t he?” Zero laughed. Stanley swatted him. 

They fell into casual conversation as others started to show up and the sun started to drift below the city. After another 7-8 people showed, Magnet sent the others to fetch the generator to hook up the speakers. Alan flicked on the battery powered lights, watching a video on his phone as Magnet turned up the music. More and more people filed into the old building starting to crowd up the empty floorspace. Most people were fond of the food circuit idea, since Teddy wouldn’t let someone walk by without pitching the idea. Rex relented and switched the positions back after the third person suggested they should move it around. Rex shook his head, grabbing a beer from the cooler, nursing it as he sat on an old squashed beanbag. Magnet had his usual ring of girls around the speakers chatting him up, and telling him how cool he was. Allan had to roll his eyes. The last thing that boy needed was another pump to his overinflated ego before his head exploded. Zero and Stanley were sitting off to the side playing a game on Stanley’s switch, with Zero trying to block the view so the other couldn’t score. Ricky was leaning on a wall as more people filed into the small building, feeling anxiety bubbling up in his stomach. Rex swung by at one point, handing him a beer.

“You good Zig?”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah I’m alright. I’m Cool.” He said, nodding a little too affirmatively. His lips were pulled into a flat smile and Rex laughed. 

“You need to loosen up.” He beckoned him closer, squeezing his shoulder. “You got a girl?”

“No- but I don’t really have-”

“Then it doesn’t matter if you talk to some, right?”

“I guess not…” He held down a groan as Rex led him over to a group of girls. They were pretty, but Ricky couldn’t help but feel stuck in this situation.

“Hey!” A brunette girl greeted him, her friends smiling. Ricky gave a soft smile, taking a sip of his beer. “What’s your name?” She asked, leaning up to talk to him a little. Rex smiled, offering an arm to one of the other girls, causing her to blush as he led her back to the bean bag, the both of them sitting together.

“R-Ricky.” He nodded. She giggled like something was funny, pushing her hair behind her ear.

“That's such a cute name, I’m Olivia.” She stuck out her hand. Ricky shook it.

“Hey, Olivia.” He said into the neck of his bottle, looking at her nose or hair instead of her face or anywhere else. “Good to meet you. Your shirt is cute.”

“Really? I got it from that weird thrift shop in town. That kid works there I think.” She gestured to Alan who was still sitting on one of the old couches. He was frowning down at his phone, working on his second or third drink. 

“Yeah?” He looks over at Alan. “I just met him.”

“He’s not as cute as you.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He stiffly laughed, holding down a generational cringe as Olivia tugged on his sleeve. “You wanna go talk somewhere where we can, y’know…get to know each other?

“Y’know what?” He sucked a little air through his teeth. “ It’s getting late and I forgot to call and check in on my little sister.” He lied, quickly pulling out his phone. “It was lovely talking to you though.” He nodded, gently patting her hand and slipping out the front door. He took a deep breath, walking round to the side of the house to gather his bearings. God, he felt like his face was on fire. It felt like every move he could’ve made back there would’ve been the wrong one. He shook his head, embarrassed as he leaned against the wall, slinking down to the ground. 

Inside Alan was holed up to himself, sitting next to Teddy as he spoke to this girl, Kaira, that he’d been interested in for some time. He was bored out of his mind. Everyone was doing something but him.

“Yo,” Teddy nudged him as Kaira briefly checked her phone, “The Adams brought a keg if you wanna make a lil cash, tell ‘em you can last longer? I know you can…pause.” Teddy grinned. The Adams showed up to every party as a way to scam money out of people who weren’t on their way to liver disease by betting party goers who could last longer in a keg stand. They weren’t blood related, just a group of guys that all happened to be named Adam– plus Danny whose last name was actually Adams. Alan had been one of the only ones to routinely beat them.

Alan sighed, closing his little game and shrugging. “You bet on me too, I’ve only had like two drinks. Buy you and Kai something nice, on my predisposed alcoholism.” He tipped his beer at him, standing up. Teddy laughed, shaking his head and handing him 15 bucks. He stretched, heading to the spare room to see a ring of people chanting and handing money around.

“Oh shit, the king has returned.” Adam S. laughed, pulling him in for a dap.

“Whatever, Teddy bet 15 bucks on me winning and I’m betting 20. Send in your strongest Adam.” He rolled his shoulders a bit. The Adams looked around a bit before sending out Adam F. . He was scrawny, but Alan knew better. He was one of the better ones, and his size was his biggest way to disarm some of the cockier people. There was no way he was losing though.

“40 bucks says you lose?” Adam F. taunted.

“I don’t wanna bankrupt you, now. Ladies first.” He gestured to the keg. Just to keep up the show, they’d slide Alan or someone else a couple extra dollars to make it look like it was possible to beat them, so they could make enough cash for all of the Adams to walk out with a nice chunk of change. He watched Adam F. get hoisted up, scrolling through an old text thread as he went, scoffing as the other hit the floor not too long later. Alan shoved him out of the way, the kid stumbling as he let Danny “Lump” Adams hoist him up and flip him over. His record was a bit over a minute, but he didn’t like to push it too much. He was up there for a while, feeling a little dizzy as he was let down, the position and first couple drinks hitting him all at once. He waved people off, grabbing the cash and stumbling back out to the couch to find Teddy and Kaira making out. He kept the cash in his pocket, making a mental note to give it to Teddy later before making his way outside. Something wasn't sitting right with whatever was in that keg. Maybe it was cause he hadn’t eaten much that day. Whatever it was he was drunk and it was only gonna get worse.

He snagged another beer, against his better judgement, trying to field off conversation that he was not in the mood for. Alan stalked out to the back porch, leaning over the railing of it. He slung his arms over it, resting his chin on his arms, feeling the wind gently nudge his head to the side. He opened his eyes and looked out over the old dried up lake, the urge to dig coming and going just as quickly. Too hot to dig…Too drunk to dig. He saw a blonde mop of hair off to the side of the porch, calling out. “Hey.” 

Ricky sat up, looking over to the voice. “Hey Alan.” He stood up, walking over to the side of the porch so he was looking up at him. Alan softly laughed. “What are you doing out here?”

“It’s so loud in there, right?” He lazily gestured with his thumb. Ricky tensed a little, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah. I’ve been out here for a while. I hope that girl I was-”

“You were talking to a girl!?” He hoots, beckoning him up the stairs. “Was she cute?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He laughed, coming up and standing next to him. He leaned on the old wood, it gently creaking under both of them. “How old is this place?”

“No clue. The warden’s family used to own this place. ‘Fore it went to the state or somethin…” He shrugged. He chugged the rest of his drink, setting it down on the porch.

“Hm.” He nodded, shaking his head as he watched the sky start to turn from orange to purple. “Beautiful day out. I just wanted to say your friends made me feel real welcome when we were settin up earlier.”

“Yeah…they’re good at that.” He smiled. “Those guys are great.” he dug around in his pocket, pulling out his phone and sighing at the battery. He looked up at Ricky, something stirring in his chest as the warm glow of the sun made his eyes shine just a little bit brighter. Alan shook his head as the blonde looked down at him. “What?”

“I didn't say anything, Alan.” He smiled. “How much did you drink? You’re slurrin, man.”

“Hey,” he lazily pointed at him, “Slurs are offensive- we don’t say shit like that.” Ricky laughed, the soft sound making Alan’s face feel hot.

“You’re ridiculous.” He shook his head, digging in his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, offering Alan one. The brunette took it, taking out his lighter as Ricky lit his own. Ricky’s lighter was purple and had a little dinosaur sticker on it. Alan took out his and felt like he should also personalize it a bit. He flicked it, huffing as it wouldn’t light.  He stuck the cig between his lips, standing up as he focused on trying to get it to catch.

“God damn.” He furrowed his brows, getting frustrated.

“Not lightin?” Ricky asked, stepping closer. Alan shook his head and looked up at him. “Here.” He stood close, leaning down a little. The blonde angled the end of his cigarette between his fingers, puffing a little as he tapped the end of Alan’s, causing it to light. “There you go.” He turned away, leaning on the railway of the old porch. Alan stood there for a second, staring at him, feeling his ears start to burn as he watched the blonde take a drag. 

“...Thanks.”

Chapter Text

Ricky had taken a ride home from Rex as long as he helped get Alan, who had eventually passed out on the couch, inside his home. They had gotten to Alan’s place, a cozy small home in the suburbs of the neighboring town of Vidalia. Rex parked his car in the driveway, sighing.

“I think his mom’s home.” He turned off his car, eyeing Alan asleep and drooling on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Is she gonna yell at us or something?”

“Something like that.” Rex smiled, unbuckling and getting out of the car. He fetched Alan's bag out of the trunk, shutting it and nudging Alan. “Squid. Yo, Squid.” He shoved Alan, making him grunt as he fell over.

“I got it.” Ricky shrugged, hopping out and rounding the corner of the car. He stared for a moment before leaning over and scooping up the brunette up in his arms.

“Hold on, I gotta get a picture of this.” Rex snickered, taking a couple pictures on his phone. Ricky felt his ears heat up, laughing too. Rex dug through Alan's bag, finding his keys and walking up the porch to the front door. “Don’t get thrown off by some of the stuff his mom says, yeah? Just get in and get out.” He advised, gently knocking on the front door before opening it. “Hey miss Bayridge, It's Alan's friends.”

“Drunk again?” A small woman slurred from the couch, a couple of glass bottles gathered together on the coffee table. She made a face as she looked at how Alan was being held.

“Yeah Miss. Bayridge. Jose threw another party. He got into it with the Adams.” He wrapped a hand around the coatrack as he spoke to her, carefully gesturing for Ricky to wait.

“I never liked those boys…” She grumbled, wrapping her blanket around herself. “Why’re you holdin him like a girl?”

“Eaisest way for me to carry him, ma’am.” Ricky answered.

She tilted the top of her bottle towards him. “...You’re new.” 

“Just moved to town, ma’am.” He adjusted Alan in his arms.

“Hope you like this shithole.” She scoffed out a laugh, reclining into the cushion. Ricky gave her a small smile, following Rex towards Alan's room. He didn't know what he expected, but various small plushies sitting neatly on the bed was not it. There were two foxes facing each other by the pillow, and a bear and lizard sitting at the foot of the bed. Rex set Alan’s bag down and leaned against the doorframe as Ricky gently laid Alan down on his bed. He hesitated before tugging off the brunette's muddy shoes and setting them on the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to Rex, who just shrugged. Ricky looked back down at Alan, trying to figure out what wasn’t right yet and hesitantly tossed the blanket over Alan. Rex nodded and shrugged, heading out of the room. Ricky followed.

That morning Alan had woken up and made direct eye contact with the box of cassettes. Instead of getting up right away he leaned over the side of his bed and dug through his bag that he did not remember putting at the foot of his nightstand. He fished out his notebook and the cassette player, popping it in and hitting play.

  “Drownin” was quiet. The second tape started with the sound of wind and the occasional car passing. The boy's voice was choked up when he started speaking. “There’s something wrong…” a small sniffle. Another car driving past. “I can’t…I just can’t shake the feelin that something is wrong with me. God, I can’t even talk to my family without getting that look. That they know something I don’t.” There's shuffling and footsteps crunching on old leaves. “I keep asking for this to be taken away- this pit at the bottom of my chest. I can’t go to church without feeling it.” The boy on the tape sighs, giving a soft laugh “I can only repent so many times. I don’t even know what I’m asking forgiveness for.” It was quiet as he walked, more leaves filling the silence. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”  The leaves stop, followed by another sniff. “I shouldn’t be cryin. Not enough time in the day.” The tape abruptly stopped.

Alan laid in his bed, looking at his notebook. Save for the title of the tape, he’d only drawn a small frowny face. He couldn’t find it in himself to listen to it again. It didn’t feel like he should. He spent the majority of his Saturday morning hungover, making a breakfast burrito and sitting in the kitchen to eat it. He made a second one for his mom, wrapping it and leaving it in the kitchen for her. He left a small note, and made his way to the porch, sitting on the steps. He pulled out his lighter, looking at it. His face felt warm, thinking about last night. Ricky had just lit it so casually. Like that was barely a best friend gesture, and very much not a ‘I met you 24 hours ago’ gesture. Hell, he was sure some married couples never even did that! He scoffed, flicking the lighter and lighting his cig.

“Such a weird dude…”

Chapter Text

Church was church. Alan was dressed in his nice Sunday clothes, but he kept fidgeting with his tie. He separated from his mom while she went to the main service and Alan went to the Youth service. Once he’d aged out of the youth program, the head Youth Pastor Pendanski recruited him [not directly, it was a general casting call] to become one of the small group leaders. If Pendanski had his way, Alan would’ve been the last person he would’ve chosen. Unfortunately that decision was made before he knew him. 

Pendanski kept a watchful eye on him as he taught some of the younger kids. Alan was at one of the round tables, talking to a group of about 3-4 kids, presenting his ‘Passage of the day’, or as Alan liked to call it, ‘Wow, why did God do that?’.

 “My chosen passage for the day is the story of Elisha. So basically, to spare you the details this fool was bald, right?” Some of them laughed and he smiled. “But he was a prophet. And there were these kids, probably like my age. No- 20 is not that old. But they were making fun of this dude, right? Like ‘Oh my god-” He felt Pendanski’s eyes on the back of his neck, “Goodness. Good gracious, he’s so bald. Hehehaha if the sun reflects off that thing it's gonna blind us’. Right? You can laugh now, but if you were those kids, you got straight up smited for making fun of this bald guy. I’m saying God sent two vicious bears out of the woods and killed 42 of these guys. Which tells us what?”

Alan picked a girl that raised her hand. “God is Bald.” 

“Yes- What? Wha-no. The moral is to not be a bully. And that God is Bald.” He smiled down at his group and shook his head. He sighed as he felt a hand on his shoulder. “God?” He looked up.

“Very funny, Alan. Can I speak with you a moment?” Pendanski looked up at him.

“Yeah sure. Draw away, stinkers.” Alan opened the big tin of markers on the table and pushed it to the center. He waved at them and stood, following the smaller man to the hall outside of the Youth room. It was a spot they were in practically once every Sunday or Wednesday, the two facing each other, annoyed. 

“Alan.”

“Yeah?”

“Elisha isn’t exactly age appropriate for your group.”

“Not quite, but it’s a funny story.” Alan shrugged, crossing his arms. Pendanski put his hands on his hips, shaking his head disapprovingly. 

“It’s not meant to be funny, Alan. It’s meant to guide and mold these young minds-”

“In a god fearing way-yeah I get it.” He waved him off. “I’ll tell a better story next time. Okay?”

“You said that last time.”

“Kay, well I mean it this time.” Alan refrained from rolling his eyes. “They’re supposed to be having fun here, sir. It’s not all about feeling guilty all the time.”

“Well if you’re feeling guilty, maybe you need to pray, boy.” Pendanski huffed, turning away and walking back into the youth room. Alan stood there for a moment, scoffing. Guilty, really? He wasn’t feeling all that guilty before that conversation. But then again, maybe he was. Maybe that was the knot in his chest whenever he woke up Sunday morning. He figured he was just hungover since he usually was on Sunday morning. He shook the thought away as he leaned on the wall, bumping into a large cross on the wall. Maybe he should refrain from thinking about it in church. He’d probably think more clearly far away from the ears and eyes of god. 

He drove on the way home, making small talk with his mom. 

“What’d y’all talk about today?” He idly asked at a red light. 

“The usual. They’re starting some kinda unit today? One on giving up the past to God.” She mumbled, a lit cigarette between her fingers as her elbow rested out the window.

“So like…forgettin?”

“Naw, like…makin peace with it.” She took a long drag. “That’s a hard thing y’know? Lettin’ go of shit like that. The past makes you who you are.” Alan hummed. “Done a lot of shit I regret.”

“What, like dad?” He joked, laughing as she swatted his arm. 

“Yeah, like that jackass.” She shook her head, a brown curl slipping from her ponytail. “You’re lucky you don’t look like him.”

“You’ve said.” He drove past the thrift shop, sparing a glance. Ricky is outside speaking to Walker. He almost waved, hesitant as he felt a knot in his chest. They noticed him first. Walker pointed at her watch then made an ‘eyes on you’ motion. Any playfulness was void from her expression. Ricky waved. Alan smiled, “Hey y’all!” he called as his mom glanced out the window. She gave a tight lipped smile, waving too before they drove off.

“You work with him?”

“Yeah, that’s Ricky. He’s new.”

“Hm. Him and Rex brought you home the other night. He was holdin’ you like a little girl.” She looked over at him.

Alan tapped the steering wheel. “I don’t remember anything, I think I was sleep.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You oughta tell him you didn’t like that. You gotta stop lettin’ your friends treat you like their lil girlfriend.”

“They don’t, mom.” He refrained from rolling his eyes. “They just think they’re macho or whatever,” he waved off the concept. “It’s really not that bad.”

She scoffed, cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth. “So? What, I just catch you whenever they happen to be treating you like that?” She shook her head, taking a drag. “You’re supposed to be a man, baby. Not some little pocket dog.” Alan stayed quiet. “I mean, what if your dad saw you like that?”

Alan gripped the steering wheel. “What happened to making peace with the past?”

“Past don’t mean the present won’t change, hon.” She looked over at him. Alan didn’t respond. 

The rest of the ride was fairly silent save for the quiet music and the blasting of the air vents. Alan went to his room and laid face down on his bed. He hated when his mom brought up his friends. They probably knew more about him than she did, yet she was always honing in on how she assumed they treated him weird. 

Alan liked the way his friends treated him. 

Maybe they doted on him a little, but he didn't see a problem with that. He’d do the same for them. 

Alan eventually sat up after doom scrolling on TikTok for about thirty minutes when he went to reach for his headphones. He glanced over at the box of cassettes and sighed. The last one was crazy depressing, and he wasn’t sure if he was up for another round of feeling like his heart was getting curb stomped. He groaned, sitting up and popping in the next cassette. 

Knees started off muffled, the familiar sound of worship tunes, a few people clapping. It cut to what sounded like a sermon, but it was so muffled, Alan couldn’t tell what he was talking about.

“Just got home from church.” The boy sniffed a little. It sounded like he was outside again. “I’m worried I don’t belong there. Like what I said last time? Bout that pit in my chest? It’s just growin and growin and…What if it eats me up?” He softly laughed before he got quiet for a minute. “Like, what if it does? Every time I get down on my knees to pray, it just gets harder and harder to get back up. This black hole is just…It’s sinking me man.” There’s a rustling of leaves. “Momma noticed I was feelin off. Told me to take a walk and clear my head. It’s not helping.” He scoffed. “Nothing is fuckin helping.” His voice rose a bit, shaky. “I just wake up and feel worse and- and like I can’t even breathe sometimes. It’s like everything in my body is telling me that I’m wrong and I don’t even know how to fix it- Like- like I’m calling out and no one can hear me anymore…and he doesn’t make it any easier-” Alan shut off the tape.

Chapter Text

MONDAY

“Squid do you know where Walker wants the School supply donation box?” Stanley asked, holding a big yellow sign in one hand, the box in the other. 

“Over there.” Alan mumbled, not looking up from his phone.

“Yeah?” Stanley sighed, starting to mess with him  “And what about the tiger?”

“Over there, man.” He waved him off.

He decided to try something that would get his attention. “Y’know, I secretly really really hate mangoes. I never got the hype.”

“You don’t fuck with mangoes?” He looked up. “They’re like-”

“I genuinely think you’re the worst person I know.” Stanley huffed out a laugh.

“Hey!” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not that bad.”

“Where are you today, man?” He set down the box, leaning on the counter. “Hard weekend?”

“I’m fine, Stanley. I think she wants the box near the counter so people see it on the way in and out.” He flipped his phone over, pointing to the side of the counter. “Make sure it doesn’t stick out so no one trips over it.”

TUESDAY

There was a loud thump over by the counter. Alan peeked over a shelf, eyeing Ricky lying on the floor. “You dead?”

“Box.” He mumbled, starting to pick himself up. “I’ll tell you what, sometimes I walk like a fawn, I’m a danger to myself- really.” The blonde started to dust himself off.

“You are real gangly.” Alan looked down at him, a familiar tightness in his chest flaring up as Ricky smiled up at him.

“I’d blame my parents, but I ended up teachin myself how to walk pretty early.”

“Oh yeah? High achiever?” Alan asked, taking a sip of his cherry soda.

“Hm. Neglect.” Ricky slightly turned up his nose, leaning against the counter, laughing as Alan choked a little. “Sorry.”

“Naw- you're good I just- I didn’t expect that answer.”

“Sorry.” He ran a hand over his thick hair. “Your mom seems chill.” He tried to change the subject. Alan rolled his eyes.

He played up his accent, “My momma told me to tell you, to quit carryin’ me like that.”

“‘Like a girl?’” He quoted.

“God, she said that to your face didn't she?” Ricky nodded, smiling. “I’m sure if I wasn’t sleep I would’ve said the same thing.”

“You’re watching too much fantasy if you automatically think this is for little girls” He holds his arms out, demonstrating the hold.

“Literally called a ‘princess carry’.” Alan put his hands on his hips, before crossing them over his chest. He raised an eyebrow at him as Ricky paused.

“I thought it was a ‘fireman carry’?” He stood up. The brunette gave him a blank look.

“No, fireman carry is-”

“Right! It’s over the shoulders.” He pointed at him, grinning. “Okay, but how effective is this-” He tossed Alan over his shoulders “going through a regular doorway? Plus I’m tall- I’d bash your skull open on the doorway-”

“Ziggy.”

“What?” The blonde glanced over his shoulder.

“If you don’t put me down-”

“What are you gonna do about it up there?” He taunted.

“Ricky!” He groaned, reaching for the counter, trying to pull himself off of him.

“Don’t- You’re gonna fall if you do that, Squid-” The blonde fretted, tilting himself and setting him on the floor, laughing as Alan lightly shoved him.

"You're an idiot." Alan shook his head, a familiar heat rushing to his face.

WEDNESDAY 

Alan was standing in the furniture section, watching Ricky sleep in an old armchair.

“If he wasn’t working, I’d totally grab a sharpie, man.” Magnet mumbled, coming up next to him. 

“He looks dead.” Alan softly laughed. Magnet stuck his phone out under the blonde's nose, sighing as it fogged up. He handed Alan his phone, walking away and coming back with the gaudiest hat Alan had ever seen. It was too ugly even for clown chic. Just colorful, mismatched and big. Magnet gently placed it on Ricky’s head, posing next to him with a peace sign while Alan took a picture. He took another one where Magnet gave a deep frown and thumbs down at the hat. “You’re stupid, man.” He laughed, handing him back his phone.

“Better a happy fool than a tragic scholar.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just say shit like that like it means something, man.”

“Why not? I thought it was kinda raw.”

“If you're 14 and think poetry is the highest form of art.”

“Or a happy fool, man.” He shoved his shoulder. “Wake this dude up, I wanna make a purchase. Unless you wanna do your job for once.”

Ricky woke up later with a blanket tossed over him.

THURSDAY

Ricky leaned over the counter, watching Alan smoke outside. The brunette had the cassette player in his hand, turning over the plastic. He couldn’t bring himself to finish it. It was starting to get to the point where he’d just stare at it.

“What’re you lookin at?” Alan looked up at Teddy’s voice. “Cassette player?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Zero found em a little while ago. He let me have em- there’s a whole set.”

“Why’re you lookin at it like it stole from you?” He teased.

“Bro, it has. This kid has ripped my heart out.” He ran a hand through his hair, resting his hand on his cheek. “I just…I relate, y’know?”

“What’s he talking about? You’re usually not so…whatever this is.” Teddy gestured to him. 

“Church. Feeling sick to your stomach going in…I dunno whatever he’s got goin on, it seems like I’ve got goin on too.”

Teddy hummed, looking down at him "Does he make it out?”

“I dunno yet.” 

“I bet you will. You’re stubborn.” He pat him on the shoulder. Alan slightly shook his head, eyeing the player as he turned it over in his hands again.