Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Sleep is a luxury.

One that Zye isn’t allowed even on his days off.

The usual nightmare has him jolting upright. The only problem is that he didn’t fall asleep in bed, as per usual, and instead on the couch. The sudden movement has him disoriented and reaching out to lean on what should be the mattress. However, his hand goes through the air and he tumbles off the couch.

Thankfully, he barely misses the coffee table.

For a moment he simply lies there. Staring up at the plain white ceiling, he can only try to shake away the dream. It dares to linger as well as a headache that’s already sprouting. He’s not sure if it’s from the small fall or the fact that reliving his past is the absolute last thing he wants to do when he finally has a break from reality.

Thirteen years later and he still can’t seem to out run it— never will be able to either. He lifts his hands to drag over his face and up through his shaggy black hair, of which the bangs are dyed pink. Zye’s almost tempted to simply fall back asleep. After all, the floor isn’t that uncomfortable.

Just as he thinks he’ll be able to, he hears the chime of his phone ringing. The noise pierces through the quiet apartment. Atop the glass tabletop the small pen-shaped device rattles and buzzes toward the edge. Zye pinches his eyes shut and tries to ignore it. He works the type of job he has for a reason; getting to choose when he goes in versus not.

The tone indicates it’s his boss and yet he dares to ignore it. The phone goes silent after a few seconds and he’s allowed to sigh. As he closes his eyes he’s interrupted once more. This time by soft knocks on his door. Zye can’t stop the groan from echoing out while he sits up. “I’m coming,” he calls out and the knocking stops.

Zye scoops up his phone and makes for the door. He flips the lock, swings it open, and raises an eyebrow at the youth standing before the threshold. “Need something, kid?”

Blue eyes glance everywhere aside from Zye, not confident enough to make that eye contact even after all the years they’ve known each other. “Well… I figured since you said you didn’t have work today… Um…”

“Yeah, yeah, come on in.” He steps to the side and allows the teenager to scurry inside. A yawn slips out as he shuts the door. Zye is just turning around when his phone rings again. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back.”

The boy plops down onto the couch, short blue locks bouncing against his face as he does. Even brighter sapphire eyes watch Zye as he strides quickly to the kitchen. Zye only lets the transparent screen extend out and answers the call once he’s far enough away to have privacy. “I told you I wasn’t available today.”

“And there’s a change of plans.”

“Look, boss, I’m in the middle of something. Can’t you get someone else?” Zye glances back out to the small living room where the TV has already been switched on with the volume kept low. “I wish I could help ya but I’m busy.”

“Our client is specifically requesting you. It should only take a few minutes.”

“The drive to the warehouse is at least twenty.”

A sigh from the other end of the phone. “They’re even willing to pay an additional fee to have you be the one to deliver it. A fee I’d be more than happy to give directly to you.”

Zye chews on the corner of his bottom lip. He’s not hurting for cash at the moment but with all of the medical bills rolling in day after day he’s not so sure. It doesn’t hurt to have more in case another emergency hits. “Fine. But only this one.”

“That’s all I ask. I trust you’ll be in soon.”

He can’t respond much less take a breath before the line goes dead. Zye scoffs and brushes his finger over the glowing screen to make it vanish. Work is not something he wants to do right now. He convinces himself he has to.

Seeing as the boy is entranced with the television, it gives Zye a moment to hurry back to his room and put on a fresh set of clothes. Well, that and get himself presentable. When he walks back out into the living room his guest gives him a curious look before turning away.

“They called you.”

Zye rubs at the back of his head before walking over and scooping up the helmet to his motorcycle. “It’s just one gig. I’ll be back before you can beat chapter one of the new game. It’s already in the system so have at it.”

“Are you… sure? I can leave…”

He rolls his eyes and pockets his keys next. “Come on, Xerxes. Relax.” Opening the door, Zye glances back at him. “If you can beat that first part then I’ll let you take it home. But you have to do it before I come back. Sound like a deal?”

Xerxes nods. Now that that’s settled, Zye leaves his apartment and hurries down the two flights of stairs. It takes him no time at all since he skips steps then slips out the side exit that leads to the parking lot. He’s not supposed to but it’s better than going by Mr. J, the landlord, as he’s usually up front at this hour. He can’t afford to get pulled into a lengthy conversation about being careful.

A quick check to make sure his motorcycle is charged up and he’s off.

Being roughly afternoon the traffic is thick and unwanted. Zye knows just what roads to take and which alleys to slip through to avoid this. It has him at work far faster than he would have been normally with that much congestion. Of course, it helps that he parks right by the front door, not bothering with one of the designated spots.

Zye rests the helmet under one arm as he goes inside. There’s plenty of people rushing about — most like himself. No one wants to hire a Chroma. It doesn’t matter that they can’t hurt anyone or pass on their disease by being near others. People keep their distance anyway.

Most except for this bustling little delivery job. Based in a large warehouse, Zye checks in almost every day to make as much as he can. It doesn’t pay that much but it’s better than being harassed at a normal nine-to-five. No one gives him those looks here either and that’s enough to make up for the sometimes spotty pay.

Although some days he does regret leaving his old job. He misses everything about it and he’ll wonder why he stopped. Only to remember that the pay is why. It’s so much easier to make quick cash here. That and no one here will fuss at him for working too much.

He makes his way to the rear office that’s large enough to fit two in one. Stopping before it, Zye raps his knuckles on the slightly ajar door.

“Come in.”

Zye nudges the door open the rest of the way and strides over to the desk where his boss sits. He’s not intimidated in the slightest by the single visible yellow eye that glances up at him. Wavy dark hair is swept over to the side of a sharply angled face, hiding away the right eye. That gaze always seems to be narrowed as well, to which Zye has slowly gotten used to over the years.

Even so, there’s something about the man that always has Zye on the edge of his metaphorical seat. Something that begs him to turn the other way and find a different job even if it means dealing with the hate.

Nonetheless, Zye takes one of the two seats in front of the large curved desk. He plops the helmet onto his lap and straightens out the wrinkles in his black and gray striped shirt. Zye grins over at him. “You’re lucky I didn’t have to make any stops. I never would have gotten here.”

Another worker peeks their head into the office. “Hey, Soren, the package is ready.”

He waves him away while he leans his elbows on the desk. “I trust you know where Bermuda Circle is.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“The package is at the front, number 247. Do me a favor and take a pair of sunglasses with you. I don’t need another incident.”

Zye huffs as he stands up. “That guy hit me first, he got what he deserved.” Walking back around the chair, Zye stumbles. It’s subtle and he catches himself well. Something he can chalk up to stumbling his toe against the ground.

Soren catches it regardless. “If you can’t handle the job say so. I don’t need someone working half-ass or off their meds again.”

“I’m fine,” is the sharp retort. One that’s equaled with not looking back. He doesn’t want to admit that he hurts. Some days more than others. Most days is because he misses taking his morning dose. But that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of working. “Do I need to come back after?”

“No. The client has already paid in advance.”

Zye leaves it at that. He’s about to hurry out of the office when Soren calls out to him.

“Ah, and Zye?”

He stops in his tracks, giving his boss a chance to finish.

“Daichi has been asking about you. Answer his calls so he doesn’t show up here if you don’t mind. I don’t need another headache.”

“Sure, whatever.” He says with a wave of his hand.

Rushing back to the front of the warehouse, Zye pays no attention to anyone that glances his way. He doesn’t have time for chit-chat. Not when he wants to get back home. If he’d known where he was being sent he probably wouldn’t have agreed to come in at all.

Zye is swift in grabbing the package and getting back on his bike. The last thing he wants is to stick around the warehouse. The less time he spends there the better. He doesn’t exactly care for lying which is why he eagerly avoids any questions about his work. He’d hate to have to admit he dislikes it.

The bone-chilling feeling that seeps into him is enough to make him want to run for the hills. But that’s all the more motivation to get in and out — doing as many deliveries as he possibly can because of it. Perhaps it helps that he doesn’t know what any of the packages are nor does he want to.

Trekking back up into the city, the real heart of it, is harder than he anticipates. The amount of people out on a weekend is ungodly. One small blip of hope is that the air has a slight chill to it to combat the glare of the sun. A benefit to being in a city off the ocean. The thrum of the engine is a welcomed feeling, giving him all the comfort he needs as he travels deep into an upper-class neighborhood.

He’s been this way plenty of times but his skin is still prickling from being here. Not that it stops him from going to one of the less impressive homes. The lengthy curved driveway is devoid of cars. Zye only pulls up at the curb, the more distance the better.

Helmet hung on one of the handles and package in his hands, Zye makes his way to the front door. Of course, not before grabbing out his sunglasses and flicking them onto his face. It’s a strange feeling of anxiety. He doesn’t quite understand why it’s creeping up on him in the first place other than just not wanting to be back here.

It encourages him to hurry up and get it over with. Pushing away any gut feelings is easy. Not to say he ignores them either. He keeps it in the back of his mind. After all, he’ll more than readily flee if something isn’t right.

These nerves of his prove nothing when he finally makes it to the door and rings the doorbell. A middle-aged man answers it with nothing but a smile. “Thank god you’re here.”

Looking down at the box, he reads the label carefully. Zye raises a brow. “Jack?”

The man blanks for a second, “What?”

“That’s who ordered this. Only they can accept it.”

Looking uneasy, the man doesn’t seem to know what to do. Lucky for him there’s a younger man that appears in the doorway. His hand pats the older guy’s arm, fingers lingering on the wrinkled sleeve of his white button-up. There’s a smirk on his lips as he shoos the man away. “Go on back to the room. I’ll be right there.”

“I didn’t think it meant you.”

The man gives a hum and reaches out for the package. Handing it over, Zye glances him over. Bright orange eyes with a green hue to them and short scruffy blond hair — he’s too familiar. It doesn’t help that Jack keeps the smirk on his countenance. “And you’re who I asked for.”

Taking the small box, Jack nods his head back toward where the other man vanished to. “A shame you don’t still work with us, the rates are a lot higher now and we could use another bouncer.”

Zye immediately takes a step back. “Thanks for using our service. If you need anything else you know what to do.”

“Hey, wait!” He pads out after Zye, bare feet slapping softly against the concrete. In the process, he tosses the box to the ground. “At least let me give you my card, I had to change my number recently. If you ever need back in Boss would be happy to have you.”

Eyes flick over to ‘Jack’ and Zye knows the blond won’t bug him for long. Not while there’s a client inside that needs to be taken care of. As can be seen by jeans that are unbuttoned, yet still zipped up, and a wrinkled t-shirt.

“I don’t do that anymore. Last I checked I don’t know a Jack.”

‘Jack’ raises a brow. “Yeah, yeah I changed it again. Don’t act like you don’t know me. That’s just mean. Besides, the customer ain’t here so you can call me Shae like always. Anyway…” He holds out his hand after fishing in his pocket, producing a yellow card that fits right on the palm. “It’s a lot safer than— Here just take this. Even if you don’t, call me sometime, okay? It’s been a while.”

Why he even lets the blond get this close he’ll never understand — nostalgia maybe? An old friend? Whatever the reason it makes it perfectly clear that he can’t stay here. He has a job and as long as he normally wears his sunglasses he should be fine. But Jack’s right, it’s not safer. It just pays better.

This is why he reaches out and takes the card, slipping it into his back pocket. “No promises. Now go get back to him before he doesn’t tip you.”

“He’s fine.” Shae gives a wave of his hand. “I want to know how you’re doing. How’s your mom?”

“I’ll call you later.”

Shae laughs, “No you won’t. Come on, man.”

Despite having a client, Shae follows after Zye all the way down to the curb. Zye tries his best to simply ignore him. He grabs his helmet, puts the glasses in the inside pocket of his sleeveless jacket, and gets on the motorcycle.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll make you a deal. Meet me for lunch sometime and I won’t bother you at work again.”

The offer is far too tempting. The last thing he needs is more distractions. Especially ones that bring him to areas like this. The memories are too much to begin with. At the same time, he does miss Shae more than he cares to admit.

“Deal.”

Shae smiles wide and slaps Zye’s shoulder. “Deal! And no flaking out on me, ya got it? Or I’ll really hunt you down next time.”

“You’d make a great stalker.”

“Heh, thanks.”

Zye rolls his eyes and starts the engine. He has more important things to get back to and one of them is a teenager anxiously waiting to play a game. As he begins to pull away and head home, Shae waits until he’s out of sight to head back to his client.

It doesn’t take Zye very long to make it back to the apartment after that. Park, proceed up the stairs, and halfway down the hall to his door. Zye is already tugging his boots off by the time he’s locking back up. The helmet thuds on the ground as he drops that as well.

All before taking long strides over to the couch and collapsing next to Xerxes. The boy glances over at Zye before returning his eyes to the screen.

“I…I’m about to beat the first chapter. It’s harder than the first game.”

Zye gives a hum while slouching against the cushions. “I’d say you earned to take it home then. But first, finish that and grab me the other controller.”

Xerxes can’t hit the button to pause the game fast enough. His eyes are sparkling with excitement as scoops up the other controller and hands it to Zye. He expertly has Zye into the game and ready to continue before Zye can even prop his feet up on the table.

Sinking into this comfortable feeling, being near someone that doesn’t have disgust for him, has all of the tension slipping away. Together they whittle away the rest of the day until he has to send Xerxes back home; just a few doors down.

---

 

The next day is far from relaxing. Much like all the rest. Every day is a hectic sprint to the finish line.

Zye is up early, at the crack of dawn in fact, to get down to the hospital the second visiting hours are allowed. Which is easier said than done considering how tired he is. It doesn’t help that he skips a meal and takes his medicine on an empty stomach. He’d rather spend time there than waste it eating.

The young woman at the front desk gives him a nod as he walks toward her. She smiles and tucks some of her hair back behind her ear. “Dr. Len is already waiting for you.”

“Thanks.”

He doesn’t pay her much mind. A friendly smile and a nod are all he can manage today. Zye stifles a yawn. The walk to Dr. Len’s office has Zye on auto-pilot until he gets there. He rubs a hand over his face as he comes to the open door. The older man seemingly senses Zye and partly turns in his chair.

Dr. Len is a thin man with wisps of white streaking through dark brown hair cut short around his ears. A pair of glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, sliding down ever-so-slightly as he regards Zye. “You’re early today. Sleeping okay?”

Zye steps into the room and nudges the door closed. “Yeah, fine I guess.”

“And you’re still good to come in Friday for your appointment?”

“Yup.” He replies while taking one of the extra seats in the room. “I’m not here about me, though.”

Dr. Len lets out a sigh. He swivels in his chair and scoops up his tablet. The translucent blue screen shifts as he flicks his fingers across it. “Lyra is barely stable. However, the progression has slowed tremendously. I believe it’d be a good time to attempt the new treatment.”

“And it should help?”

“I’ve had several other patients respond well to it. They’ve had signs of slowing the disease to where it’s barely noticeable. As well as perking back up and stabilizing.”

“The ones that don’t?” Zye asks as he leans back in the chair.

His eyes always level right with Dr. Len’s. There’s no flinching or cringing away from the truth of the matter. Everyone is on borrowed time. But for a Chroma? Someone must have broken the hourglass because the sand is leaking faster.

Dr. Len stands and gestures for them to leave. “If you’re asking if they’ve gotten worse, they haven’t. This trial so far has either worked in varying degrees or not at all.”

Following his lead, Zye begins to follow Dr. Len through the halls to where patients are kept. To where his mother’s room is. To any other visitor, these hallways must seem agonizingly similar. But to Zye he knows where he is. He’s been down them so many times he’s lost count. Dr. Len stops before the door.

“Talk it over.”

“No…It’s fine. Go ahead and try, just let me know how much.”

“Zye, I told you not to worry. We have programs that can take care of the cost to a large degree. I wouldn’t let Lyra go without treatment even if you couldn’t pay.”

He gives Dr. Len a nod. “I appreciate it.”

Dr. Len watches Zye open the door. There are words catching on his tongue, something he wants to say so badly. Still, he lets it slide and instead walks away. It allows Zye to slip inside of Lyra’s room. He shuts the door as gently as possible, unsure if she’s asleep or not. Zye moves in a slow stride over to her bedside where she’s raised slightly.

It’s always hard seeing her like this. The younger mother that raised him shouldn’t be lying there unable to take care of herself. He knows she’d still be with him if it weren’t for how bad the pain has gotten. In fact, he wouldn’t mind taking care of her. There’s just no way he can. Not anymore.

There in the hospital bed, she seems so small and frail. Especially when she’s under several blankets. Even the normally rich browns of her skin have grown pale and ashen. He’ll always be thankful to those that tend to her here. Especially the young nurse that braids Lyra’s hair every night; long black hair tied into one thick braid that’s draped over her shoulder.

The toe of his boot catches the chair at her bedside. The noise is piercing to him yet it barely stirs Lyra. Slowly, she turns her head in his direction. A smile crosses her lips. “Still trying to sneak up on me, sweetie?”

“N-no…I didn’t know if you were resting or not. I have time so I could have waited.”

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“I’ve slept enough. I’d rather spend time with you.”

She scoots over while patting the bed. Zye is more than happy to sit on the edge. Even more so when her hand reaches out to grasp at one of his. The smile that lights up her face brings him more joy than anything else. Finally, she opens her eyes and shows him the gaze that looks just like his own; purple iris fading into tinges of bright cerulean.

“Don’t tease your mother. Closer so I can touch you.”

He gives a laugh and leans forward. The second that he does he lifts her hand, placing it on his cheek. A pleased sigh slips from her lips. Slender fingers tremble as they brush up into his hair and guide him down to her. Her voice lowers to a whisper. “I’ve missed you, Zye. Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Yes ma’am. Three meals a day and plenty of sleep.”

She taps at the back of his head. “Don’t lie to me. Just because I can’t see you anymore doesn’t mean I can’t tell when you’re lying.”

Zye continues to dip down, leaning on one arm, until she has him laying partially against her. His cheek rests against her chest. All he can hear are the shallow breaths and the beats of her heart. It brings him both comfort and agony. The heavy weight settles onto his chest all over again.

Lying there, he clings onto her as if she’s the only thing that’s real. He lets her comb her fingers through his hair. She can sense his unease. She can feel the way his breath shakes against her. Touch is all she truly has left and it’s heighten more than ever. Her only gift at the moment.

“Len says you dyed your hair again.”

“It’s just the bangs,” he says after swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“What color this time?”

“Pink.”

A small laugh as she tousles his hair. “My favorite color. Is it that one shade I like? Like the dress I had?” Zye nods against her. A hum slips from her at that. “Len and I were talking yesterday. He says you look just like your father.”

Zye pinches his eyes shut. Memories he’ll never have float through him. A man he’s never known personally yet feels as though he does. All thanks to her. It has his emotions filling up to the brim far faster than he wants. Comforting each other is fine. He likes this. But he doesn’t want to be weak in front of her now. Not when she’s up against so much.

Even so, he still feels like he could fall asleep right then and there. No matter what she always puts his soul at ease. That one part of him finds solace somewhere in it. All the while the despair is ripping at his heart.

It only gets worse when he hears it. There’s a stumble in her breath, a choke on a sob that she doesn’t want to let out. Her fingers still against the nape of his neck. She can’t keep it down and struggles to push him away. Zye immediately sits up as she draws her hands against her face.

“I-I’m so…sorry. I-I didn’t want this for you.”

The way her voice breaks makes him want to crumple in on himself. After all, he feels the opposite. She only has this pain because she has him. All of those extra worries and fears that have piled on her shoulders over the years can’t have been easy.

Zye gently pulls at her wrists. The tears continue to stream down her face and redden her eyes. He gives a small scoot to get closer. Once he has, he pulls her forward against his chest. Immediately, she wraps her arms around his middle and holds on tight. Her tears wet his shirt as he holds her.

“I-I was so s-selfish! Oh God…Zye, I’m sorry.”

He rubs small circles on her back. “Don’t be. I’m glad to be here. Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone, right?”

She clutches onto him tighter. Sobering up but still emotional, she’s almost ashamed to have broken down in front of him. “I…I didn’t want you to suffer like this.” Lyra lifts her head with a pleading expression. “Please, please don’t be scared to ask for help. Let someone help you.”

Zye pushes her away ever-so-slightly. He lifts the edge of the blanket and brushes away her tears. He makes sure to raise his voice so she can hear him better despite how it wants to crack. “I promise.”

“What a way to start visiting hours. Sorry…” She says with a short laugh. Settling back against her pillows, she slides over more and pats the bed. “You’re not too old to humor me are you?”

He does as she asks with a grin. “Of course not.”

Lying down beside her, he turns onto his side with his head on her shoulder. Her arm, of which is beneath his neck, lifts up so that her fingers can comb through his hair once more. The other hand is reaching over for one of his. She’s eager to have her hand clutched onto his that is so much warmer and larger than her own.

“It’s getting long. Are you going to get it cut?” she asks, referring to his hair.

“No time. I’d rather be here when I’m free.”

Lyra sighs softly. “What about your friends? I haven’t seen Callua in so long now. How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine. Busy lately.” He replies while closing his eyes. The comfort dares to lull him back to sleep. At least a nurse will wake him before lunch so that he can make it to work on time. It all runs like clockwork on these days.

“Sweetie?”

He gives her a small hum.

“It’s never that I regret being with your father or having you. I cherish every moment.” She smiles and leans her head against his. “I do miss when you were smaller. At least then you’d talk my ear off.”

“I’d rather listen to you now. You have more to say, Mom.”

“You bet I do! Even when I’m with your father again you better keep an ear out, I’ll be yelling at you all the time on what to do.”

Zye tries to steady a breath and choke back the tears. He quickly tries to change the subject. “I’ll tell Callua to come with me next time.”

“Thank you… Now, how should I repay that kindness? Do you want me to sing to you?” The question is responded to with only a squeeze against her fingers. “Hehe, if you fall asleep again I’m not going to wake you.”

Regardless, she takes a deep breath and relaxes. The soft humming begins and in an instant, he’s out like a light. The words are something he hears even in his dreams or when he’s alone. The soft lullabies from his childhood urge him into a deep sleep with no nightmares or running from troubles.

As she said, Lyra doesn’t so much as twitch once he’s fallen asleep. She settles in and finishes her song. Only then does she let her fingers still in his hair and her eyes slip close despite already not being able to see.

“I love you, my little starlight.”

Lyra smiles as she lies there, enjoying the sounds of the creatures outside her window. Not to mention the calm breathing of her son. She holds onto him for as long as she can. Time is fickle and passes far too quickly for someone like her. It feels like it’s only been a few seconds when a nurse walks in.

They smile softly at her. “It’s time for your lunch and when you’re done we’ll get you ready for treatment. Do you need anything before I bring it to you?”

“No. Thank you, Cor. Take your time.”

A small nod and they’re back out of the room. Lyra sighs and milks the moment a little longer. She doesn’t want him to leave just yet even though she knows he has to. All because he works so hard to provide for them both.

“I really hate to wake you…” Lyra sighs as she begins to try and rouse him. “Zye? You need to wake up, sweetie.”

There’s an incoherent mumble of a response. It has a smile picking up the corners of her lips. A moment passes before Zye yawns and begins to sit up. The pressure leaves her arm. Immediately, she misses it regardless of how much better proper blood flow feels.

He’s groggy with the glaze of sleep still covering his eyes. Zye sits up, stretches, and stands up. The bones creak and pop as he works out the stiffness. Once he has, he leans back over and kisses her forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Be good for the nurses.”

Lyra laughs and swats his away. “You’re the one always getting into trouble. All those poor boys you used to beat up.”

“They deserved it,” he says nonchalantly. He knows how she feels about him getting into fights. But they’re both aware that sometimes it’s unavoidable when there’s something different about him. Zye stumbles and nearly knocks over the chair as he makes for the door.

“Haa…Be careful, child. Otherwise, I won’t let you leave.”

“I will. And I’ll let you know when Callua can stop by next.”

He’s just about to leave. The door is open and the knob is cold against his palm. A thin gray shirt and worn out jeans aren’t enough to keep him warm on the inside. Nothing can when he hates to leave. It always takes a moment to step out and let the door shut behind him.

Looking back is impossible.

If he does he won’t leave. The emotion is already welling back up in his chest. Still sleepy, he can’t force it down as well. A smile is hard to put on so the frown settles in. If anything it keeps anyone from speaking to him or asking questions. He’s allowed to move through and back out into the world.

Not that it ever helps.

The wind feels stale in his lungs. The sky not as bright blue as it should be. Clouds are moving in and not the fluffy white ones he used to watch with her. Even the noises are nothing but static in his ears.

Leaving means it feels like living stops. It’s a routine to slip back into now; things to do, money to make, people to talk to.

He feels the phone vibrate in his back pocket. A reminder that it shouldn’t have been back there all this time. He plucks it out and takes a quick note to message Callua back. It’s something he’ll do once he gets to work. For now, it’s a matter of getting past the people coming up the sidewalk to get inside.

Parking spot found, he starts his bike and settles the helmet back on. It stutters as it tries to start yet manages to do so regardless. Another thing he has to take care of. Or perhaps it’s just not charged enough.

The motorcycle pulls out and he’s off to work. A quick trip that ends with him along the coast at the port. Just further in is a warehouse with plenty of vehicles parked along the side of it in the shade of the building. The large doors are wide open and show the vast amount of people in there working alongside the countless stations and shelving.

Zye parks furthest away and more towards the back. To him, it’s worth the walk. It also gives him a moment to sit there with the hum dying down, the helmet sitting on his lap, and his phone in his hand. The small device extends when he presses on part of it. The soft glow of the transparent screens adjusts to the outside lighting.

There’s plenty of messages from Callua mentioning that Daichi should be coming to the warehouse today. He replies quickly; asking if she’s free to go with him anytime soon and if she’s still here now. For a moment it’s tense as he waits for her reply.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Daichi. It’s just…complicated and right now he really doesn’t want to deal with complicated. He just wants to fall into the daily cycle so he can eventually get back to the hospital. Back to the one thing that’s giving him purpose.

He bristles up when he sees her reply. The fact that she’s still here means Daichi hasn’t shown up. Even so, he can’t delay forever. Zye turns it off and returns it to his pocket. The helmet is left on the seat as he makes his way inside. He knows if he’s fast he can get in, get an order, and get out. Maybe avoid everyone until Daichi is gone.

“Thought you weren’t ever gonna come in. What took ya?”

Zye glances over to the entrance where another stands. She’s shorter than him, most are seeing as he stands right over six feet, yet her demeanor has him looking down at her when it feels like he should look up. She vaguely regards him with her eyes; blue with yellow hues that she hides behind a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses.

“None of your business, Kat.”

Her laughter is a melody he could get addicted to. It makes sense that she wants to sing. Every time she speaks people can’t help but listen. Even so, she’s here like the rest of them for the same reason.

Chroma can’t have dreams.

“Well then maybe you don’t need to know what I heard.”

Zye finishes swiping in on the screen and turns to her. “More gossip?”

Kat grins wide. She finally looks up at him. It sends her light blond hair swaying behind her. It’s held back in a messy braid. The yellow gradually fades to a soft shade of cotton candy pink. He’s always thought the color fits her so well.

She brings a finger up to her lips with a wink. “Just saw Daichi around back. Apparently, he’s upset with you. Oh, and Soren said to see him first thing.”

“Thanks. Try not to mix up your deliveries again, okay?”

“I didn’t! That was the customer’s fault and you know it!” She yells after him with a huff. A sigh slips from her lips shortly after before returning to her job.

Zye stuffs his hands into his pockets and makes for the office. The dislike for going inside is quelled when he shuts the door behind him. The woman sitting on the sofa off to the side pats the spot next to her.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

He rolls his eyes as he makes his way over to her, ignoring Soren who is busy finishing up a phone call. The delay is irritating. Seeing her makes it only marginally better. Since day one, Callua has been the only one that doesn’t set him on edge. She’s easy to read or at least she doesn’t act like she’s slinking around with dangerous secrets.

Callua scoots over on the couch to let him sit down. She smooths her long, beige skirt out over her legs before leaning over to him. Her voice drops to a whisper as to not disturb Soren. “He hasn’t shown up yet, I can stay until you get working if you want.”

“I can handle it.”

“Pff, sure, sure. I believe you.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “You just want to piss him off again.”

“Hmm… maybe?” Callua flashes him a wicked smile before sitting up straight. She reaches back and tightens the tie holding up her long, pale green hair. “It isn’t exactly hard to do.”

Off to the side, Soren mumbles to himself now that he’s finished his call. “A bunch of idiots.” The chair swivels and he leans one elbow on his desk. “Now I can deal with you. I changed your schedule. There won’t be a problem.”

Callua gives Zye a knowing look as Soren turns away.

“If you need more than that leave me a message or don’t show up, either way, I have plenty of new hires right now.”

Zye is about to stand up when Callua is suddenly glued up next to him. One arm slips around to nestle up against his, her hand resting comfortably on his wrist. She’s one of the few people who get away with being this close. Especially when the door opens.

The first thing Zye sees is the look of disgust. Then again, if he looks again it also holds anger. Perhaps a twinge of jealousy? He never knows when it comes to Daichi. The man is a pepper shaker of emotion and zero calm.

However, he doesn’t appear dressed for work. Normally he’d be in more business-like attire. Today he’s in a pair of jeans, with a knee cut out, and a baggy, black and red checkered jacket that’s zipped all the way up. Zye will never know how he’s not sweltering in it considering how hot it is outside.

Daichi glowers at Callua, “You don’t even work here.”

She smiles sweetly at him in return. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

After a moment of leveling her orange eyes with his one blue and one green, Callua stands. She pulls away from Zye while giving a squeeze to his shoulder. The last thing she wants is to have to leave him alone with these two.

“I’ll see you later. Give me a call and we’ll figure out a date.”

Her words have more of an impact on Daichi than her actions. The look on his countenance is murderous. Callua, however, isn’t bothered in the slightest. She gives Zye one last smile before slipping out of the office. Something Zye wishes he could do as well. It’s been one thing after another and he just wants to work to forget about it all.

Thankfully, Soren doesn’t care to listen to it either. He jabs a finger toward the door, “Go work. And Daichi, keep it short. I need you back here in two minutes.”

Zye takes that as his signal to leave and leave he does. As quickly as he can, he slips around Daichi to get out the door. Of course, Daichi is on his heels in no time flat. He follows Zye to pick up a couple of orders then out to his bike. Zye’s just grateful Daichi doesn’t start in on him until they’re outside and away from eavesdroppers.

“You’ve been ghosting me for two weeks. But you’ll answer her calls no problem?”

He tries not to look over at Daichi. Busying himself with slipping the boxes into the compartment, Zye sighs heavily. “I’m not ready to talk to you about it yet. I’m still… thinking.”

“Is what I offered that bad?”

“It’s not if it’s bad. It’s not what I want.” Finally, Zye turns around. If anything he gives Daichi his full attention no matter how much he wants to run from the shorter man. “I like where I’m at right now.”

Daichi grabs for Zye’s hand only for him to take a step back toward his bike. “I told you I’d take care of you. What more do you want?”

Zye gets on the motorcycle at the sight of a few other runners leaving the warehouse to make their own deliveries. The thought of doing this in front of other people has his stomach dropping.

“Look, how about we meet up and talk. Text me a date and a location for sometime after next week. But I have to get working or—”

“I can tell Soren to let you go home. I’ll pay for whatever you’d make today.”

“Daichi, you know I can’t accept that. People will talk.”

A breeze brushes in off the water. The silence is filled with Zye slipping on his helmet and starting the engine until it gives off a glow beneath the seat. For a moment, Zye thinks he can get away from this situation with ease. One look at Daichi proves otherwise— that he can’t stall this out forever.

The wind has grayish-brown bangs dipping into an irritated and confused gaze. Daichi reaches back, rubbing at his neck beneath where the longer hair is tied into a low ponytail. He keeps his eyes on Zye’s, refusing to back down. The slow reach for Zye’s hand is shot down as quickly as his words.

“Even if I said it’s because I lo—”

“I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, Zye.”

As he pulls out, he’s not sure whether the words worry him or saddened him. There are lines he never should have crossed. He repaid Daichi’s kindness with allowing things to go too far. Accepting this job to work for him and Soren might not have been a great idea after all. Not when Daichi is sprinting for a finish line in their relationship.

A relationship Zye doesn’t even know he started. All of those lines were erased. The consequences of it have him remembering Shae. A better time is in his past and it has him finding it hard to make it till the evening.

The grass isn’t always greener on the other side after all.

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