Chapter Text
Kris makes what is perhaps the worst fumble of their life on the Saturday morning before the town’s festival.
They’d just spent a good few hours hanging out with Susie, wasting their time together in such a way that it could hardly be considered a waste anymore, until they’re left with nothing but the glow of the setting sun to bask in.
It’s moments like these, where the silence and the solitude is overwhelmingly present, that Kris’ mind plays tricks on them. They’re greeted by a flurry of emotions – a whir of thoughts that conjure up from within their mind. Some of them are daunting, ever-haunting, whilst others are on the more normal side of things. Neither, though, are wanted.
They heave out a sigh and press their back firmly into the comfort of the melding, squishy grass they’ve been sitting on for the past hour. It’s supposed to be a change of scenery – something to fill the void. But it instead just leaves them staring up at the sky rather than the glow of Susie’s smile; something they find to be significantly less comforting.
Susie huffs out something akin to a laugh at them, then joins them in their grass-laying endeavours. She’s a little quicker as she swings her back down beside them – far less gentle in her movements, not quite as limited with her body as Kris finds themself being.
But now she’s closer.
Kris’ nostrils are invaded with the scent of fresh pine – the sensation of a strand or two of hair against their arm. They’re met with the brilliant vibrancy of Susie’s presence from their side. For a moment, they fear that whatever they are pales almost completely in comparison.
These are all things they’ve unfortunately grown familiar with. All things so Susie-esque, that just the simple reminder of one of them sends their brain into a state of panic, running hot into overdrive.
Susie is.. A difficult topic, to say the least.
Kris had never hated her – not even when she’d been so insistent on pushing them and pulling them around, bringing her nostrils up far too close into their hair and raising them by the scruff of their neck against the lockers more times than they could count.
They’d remained neutral on her throughout that era of their life, merely deciding that she probably had an issue or two to work through – an unseated, stubborn grudge against them that simply refused to vanish.
But then they’d begun to get close.
Susie’s harsh words became sweet, and her hands slowly grew gentle whenever she’d touch them. Her snout would still occasionally sniff at their hair, and they hadn’t grown immune to the prompts and the prods from her clawed fingers either. But it was all done very differently.
She began to cradle them with her touch, any sense of meanness always spouted in jest. What had before been spite slowly morphed into affection, continuing to mutate until they reached a stage where they could be considered friends.
Now, this was where things got difficult.
Susie’s affection steadily stopped growing from this point onwards. She had seemed satisfied by the prospect of friendship – of finding herself a relationship that she’d never before had within her clutches.
But Kris’ hadn’t.
It became an unstoppable force, consuming their being, growing with every single action or line of speech directed their way. It was unmovable, strong and large – powerful in all that it was.
And it was this persistent drive to edge ever-closer to Susie that spurred on their next word of speech, “I don’t have a date for the festival.”
It’s a bit of a stupid thing to state aloud, especially when the only other person around is your crush, of whom you’ve assumed doesn’t return your feelings in a way even nearly as burning or as vibrant. But, then again, Kris had always been incredibly round-about when voicing their wants and needs.
“Oh, yeah?” Susie scoffs, and she tilts her head backwards. “That’s cuz you’re a loser,” she teases.
Kris feels their heart tug from its strings, their cheeks growing warmer and warmer. They stiffen, and their mind scrambles to form something of a reply – because there are so many things that could be interpreted from that statement alone.
There’s the most obvious one, for starters, that Susie thinks they’re a loser. This one isn’t quite such a worry – it’s a teasing joke that she throws their way almost every day, always huffing it with a broadened chest and the bright flicker of a smile.
Then there’s the slightly less obvious one, that Susie thinks Kris wouldn’t be capable of scoring a date to such an event. This, too, isn’t much of a bother. If they’d wanted anyone other than Susie, then they’d probably have asked them already. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.
But then there’s the final implication. The implication of Kris being a ‘loser’ for not having a date to the festival, which would therefore mean that Susie had one herself.
That’s the one that hurts the most.
The corners of their cheeks tug downwards, and they have to raise a hand to their chest in order to stop their heart from bursting. “..Do you?” They question, their voice all weak and weary as they speak.
It’s something that causes Susie to follow their lead, her cheeks deepening into a shade of pink as her eyes dart to the side, taken by surprise. “Uh..” she mutters, all of a sudden flustered. “Nah.”
Relief settles within Kris’ chest, and they breathe out a sigh that they’d before been forced to keep at bay. It’s perhaps a little unfair, but they’re happy to be unfair if it means they’ve got even a slither of a chance here.
And that relief is the context behind what comes next – the overwhelming, unfiltered set of words that are choked out of their mouth.
“You should go with me,” they spur aloud. It’s both entirely a mistake, whilst also being something they’d been wanting to say for hours already.
As soon as it’s exited their mind, flying out of their mouth, they feel the regret settle into their stomach. It’s heavy, much like a rock, and it’s weighing just about everything in their body down.
They gulp – and they gulp hard – then they close their eyes as they brace for what’s about to come. The dismissal, the humiliation and the inevitable frustration.
Though, none of those things ever come.
Because Susie merely furrows her eyebrows and twists her head to the side, muttering out, “Huh?”
Whether she’s actually confused, or whether she just wants to reaffirm what she’d just been told, Kris doesn’t know. But it’s an out – an exit, a way for them to justify what they had just spilled, whilst not souring the relationship they’ve got.
“Like, uhm..” They mutter, scrambling through the pathways and inner-channels of their mind. It’s where they’re met with what they would later on consider to be the very worst excuse they could have possibly come up with. “Fakely.”
Susie scowls. It’s not the negative kind, but rather expressed whilst the corners of her lips turn upwards and a tooth slips out. “.. Fakely?” she repeats, her tone light and curious.
And so Kris finds themself scrambling again. They hadn’t realised this lie would require any upkeep – hadn’t written out the answers to all of the questions they’d inevitably get. It was supposed to be something that was one and done, something that’d be either accepted or denied. Not something that’d extend long enough for questions to be asked. “Like, uhm.. A fake date, y’know?”
Susie blinks, then slowly nods as she comes to the idea. “Oh, right!” She exclaims, although her heart doesn’t sound like she’s entirely in it. “A fake date.”
Kris tightens their lips, mumbling out a simple, “Mhm,” to fill the silence that threatens to linger between the two.
But it’s almost like they’re too slow – because a kind of quiet hardens between them both, anyway. Susie’s thrown head-first into a state of contemplation, whilst Kris feels their palms growing uncomfortably hot as their sweat stains their too-long sleeves.
She ums and ahs on the statement, before eventually finding the words to question it even further – perhaps the worst outcome that Kris could have anticipated. “.. Why?”
They let a shaky exhale slip, then shrug their shoulders – no doubt staining that green of their jumper with a deeper, more mossy variant of the tone. All sane excuses flow from their mind; all possible explanations are exhausted. It’s why they’re forced to settle on a clarification that barely even makes sense.
“For fun.”
There are so many more ‘fun’ things they could be doing than fake-dating their best friend – hell, even skipping the festival completely in favour of causing their own mayhem would be favourable to most. “Nobody else will know – gotta keep them on their toes.”
It’s only now that Susie gains the heart to laugh, spewing out a gentle chuckle. Her chest rises and falls in that pretty little rhythm of hers, and her full set of teeth is put on show before Kris. Their hand twitches, and they have to prevent themselves from reaching out towards something they shouldn’t try to obtain.
“Uh huh, gotcha,” she jeers, finally falling into acceptance. “You got a time you want me to pick you up, then?”
Kris feels their cheeks flush, praying that the bite of the autumnal wind will serve to mask the true meaning behind such a reaction. They notice their lips beginning to curve upwards, and have to fake a frown to hide that type of answer.
This had been both easier and harder than they had expected. The outcome that they had reached hadn’t quite been what they had hoped for, but it’s not like they were about to complain. Regardless of the reasons and the complications hidden within, Susie had just accepted to be their date to the festival.
They were going with Susie.
And so, in order to give them as much time as possible, Kris throws out what they believe to be the most reasonable possible answer, “Twelve.”
They feel the judgement of Susie’s stare grow harsher as seconds pass, her gaze hardening and her grin becoming an overwhelming amount more prevalent. “Dude, the festival opens at One.”
“Oh,” Kris states. Humiliation flutters in their chest, and they’re forced to tweak their previous answer a little. “One, then.”
Laughter bubbles in Susie’s throat once more, spilling out in melodies rather than giggles. She hauls her back straight, hugging her knees, then drags herself up onto her feet. There’s only a second or two before she’s twisted herself around, extending her arms outwards in Kris’ direction. She opens a hand there, ready for their taking, and they stare up at her expectantly.
Her hair flows in the wind – her eyes twinkle under the light of the setting sun. She’s covered in grass and leaves and moss, all things so Susie-esque that Kris feels their own heartbeat begin to pick up. She flashes a quick grin. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Kris feels the shine of their eyes brighten, becoming all soft and sweet and glittery as they accept Susie’s open palm. Her claws dig into their wrist as both of their fingers flex, wrapping around one another with a force of sheer desperation. “You will,” they reply.
And so Susie pulls them back up onto their feet again, picks a leaf or two out of those mop-like strands of hair that they own, then turns her back around.
Kris’ heart drops into their stomach as they both exchange their farewells and, before they know it, Susie’s pace is picking up. She’s exiting down away from them, fading into the glow of the sunlight.
It’s only at this moment that Kris is fully met with the realisation of what had happened.
Tomorrow, they’d be taking Susie to the festival.
On a date, no less.
And perhaps it was a ‘Fake Date’, product of their own suggestion – but that just meant that it’d be a little bit easier on them, right? All things that were counterfeit were easier – easier to acquire, easier to control.
.. This would be easy, wouldn't it?
They’re proven somewhat wrong at quarter past one the next day.
They’d awoken way too early – 7AM, sharp – where they had found themselves unable to crawl back into the depths of slumber. They’d run through the motions of their daily routine, shoving on that same brown shirt and sweater of theirs that they wore everywhere, before indulging in the tedious spontaneity of anxiously pottering around their house.
And it had been what they’d done for the entire morning. They’d tried to focus on a video game, only eventually giving up when their focus was cast more so towards the blank lock screen of their phone. They’d then tried to help out, making a poor attempt to complete a chore or two that their mother had assigned them. That, too, had been shot dead when they’d realised their mind was so out of it that they almost stumbled over the cable of the vacuum five whole times.
When it had finally reached twelve, Kris found themselves so filled with nervous energy that they were unable to do anything except sit on the sofa. They’d tapped their feet on the floor in the tune of theirs and Susie’s favourite pieces of music and they’d tried to ground themself by feeling the soft leather of the sofa in the tips of their fingers.
But none of it had served to soothe any kind of anxiety, and their nerves had only heightened when Susie didn’t even show up on time.
The extra fifteen minutes spent sat, waiting around, were much more agonising than any extension of time that they had suffered through prior. They were irritatingly dull, anxiety-inducingly long, and overall only served to make them second-guess their plan to even schedule such a thing to begin with.
The buzz of the doorbell at quarter past one had them snapping completely straight, no longer bent over themselves like a shrimp, curled up in the dumpster fire that was their own posture. They’d swiftly twisted their head around towards the door, immediately pulling their weight up onto their legs, then had opened the door to reveal the figure of none other than Susie.
And this was the situation that they found themself in now – a scenario that was neither easy, nor counterfeit.
Susie is presented before them, clad in an outfit that clearly contains more effort than any outfit she’d ever worn before. It consists of a patterned dress shirt and a pair of jeans that lack any scrapes, rips or holes. They’re still wide-legged, of course, but are instead held up with a polite black belt with a golden buckle instead of whatever she'd usually use.
Though, putting all of that aside, there’s a much more pressing matter at hand here.
Buried deep within Susie’s grasp lies a bouquet. It’s filled with different types of flowers – all of varying colours and different varieties.
And, suddenly, those patterns on her dress shirt become a significant amount more interesting.
Kris averts their gaze from the bouquet, feeling the heat crawling up their neck and spreading out onto flushed cheeks. They feel sweat begin to bead at their forehead, and they proceed to make an attempt at finding a distraction in those triangles and stripes on Susie’s shirt.
Though, as they’re scanning the pattern, they merely find their gaze drifting back towards the bouquet. Their eyes meet hues of red, pink and purple once again, and they basically just give up.
Kris is forced to bring a hand up to behind their neck, scratching at the patch of hair that’d been dyed red last summer. Their fingers are shaky and stiff, pausing at the best of times and freezing up at the worst. They’re rendered pretty much useless, feeling severely underdressed, and overly sweaty, but then the bouquet is shoved a little closer into their face.
They’re overwhelmed by a strong, floral scent – an amalgamation of all that’s there.
And so they take it, flush even deeper, and bury their nose even further into the scent.
There is so much running through their mind. There’s Susie – the very fact that she’s present, and there’s the bouquet, and her outfit, and their own appearance, and they don’t really know when the best place to start is, and –
They take a deep breath.
Oh, right.
Words.
“You, uhm..” They murmur, their voice barely higher than a whisper. Though it doesn’t take long for them to pause their own compliment, realising that it isn’t the best conversation topic to start with. “Hi.”
They flash an awkward smile, and Susie tries her hardest to return it. But she’s all rigid, practically frozen in the solitidy of her own stance. Her hands only just manage to return back down to her side, choppy as she performs the action.
“H-Hey,” She stutters back, very clearly nervous. It’s obscenely rare that she’s this level of nervous. “N-Nice outfit..?”
Kris feels their heartstrings pull from within their chest, and it’s suddenly incredibly difficult to keep their legs from turning to jelly beneath their weight. “Thanks, uh..” they mumble, buying time. “It’s the same thing I wear everyday.”
That sentence is spoken incredibly seriously – the monotone of their voice proves as such, but perhaps that’s why Susie proceeds to give such a reaction. She begins to sputter, raising her clawed fingers over her lips in a failed attempt to keep the laughter at bay – but that proves to be rather useless, because it only increases instead.
Her huffed, muffled chuckles transform into cackles – things you’d only hear from witches and wizards. But it’s warm and it’s bright and it only proves to stir Kris’ heart even further, so much so that the heat on their neck now reaches the tips of their ears.
And with that, Kris finds their own, shortened chuckles becoming free enough to escape their lips. They move one, floral-scented hand from the bouquet, now grasping much tighter with the other, and instead bring it to their lips in a half-hearted attempt to stifle themself.
From here on out, the atmosphere returns to normal. It’s no longer tense – no longer filled with nerves and inescapable feelings of anxiety. Everything is fine; all is okay.
“Well, uh..” Susie mutters, pulling them back into their usual rhythm of comfortable conversation. “Wanna go, then?”
Kris response is an eager, excited nod. Their hands clench around their gifted bouquet, and they dart a smooth glance behind their back. “Yeah, um..” They motion towards the dining table a few metres away. “Let me put these inside.”
Susie’s smile tightens a little. “Cool.”
Kris turns their back, pattering their feet throughout the quietude of their house. They dash over towards the kitchen, gently placing the smattering of flowers down onto the soft wood of the table. It’s accompanied by a small note, hand-written by them, advising their mother not to tamper with them.
They’re rather speedy as they pace back towards the door, meeting the beauty of Susie’s gaze once more. Their free palm scrabbles behind them, pulling the door to an abrupt close and they finally make a step outside.
The cold bites against their sensitive skin, but it eventually settles into a slight tingle that they’re acutely used to. They’re somewhat pushy as they toss their hand in Susie’s direction, palms open, ensuring that she gets the message they’re trying to convey.
She merely chuckles, before smoothly intertwining her fingers with their own. Her hands are a far stretch colder than theirs, prompting a quick shiver to run down their spine – but it’s all okay, because Susie’s got their hand in hers, and they’re both on the way to the festival.
They pass by sets of trees and piles of leaves, turning their noses up at Sans’ convenience store and giggling when they walk past the misspelled sign of the ‘Librarby’. Words are scarcely exchanged, aside from the occasional ‘ooo’ when they walk past a flower that Susie thinks is pretty – or an ‘aww’ as they see the outline of a kitten fleeing from a street. That, too, is uttered by Susie.
It’s only when they’re about to purchase their entry tickets that she pauses. They’re a few metres away from the entrance to the festival, still hand in hand, but it’s a little difficult to progress any further with the streak of stubbornness that Susie’s showcasing right now.
“Wait,” She utters, digging her heels into the squishiness of the grass. Their hands are no longer waving back and forth, dancing alongside one another in a lively rhythm. Instead they’re still – more than still – frozen in place.
Kris waits, and waits, but nothing else ever comes from her. No further sound – no kind of visual direction. And so they’re forced to tilt their head to one side, swishing their hair around as they stare up at Susie with glistening eyes and a quivering bottom lip.
It’s only now that she proceeds to speak up once more – only now that she’s sure she’s gotten Kris’ attention and that her words aren’t going to fall upon deaf ears. “What even happens on a fake date?”
It’s a bit of a funny question to have asked – because if Kris is honest, they don’t actually know either.
This is neither something they had been planning to do, nor something that had garnered much thought or attention. They’d wanted it to have been a normal date – like those ones that couples go on, or the type of things used to start out initial relationships.
Had their own fear not caught up on them in such a vehement manner, perhaps it would have been a normal date. Yet, they couldn’t help the nerves that crawled throughout their skin at that moment yesterday.
And so they’re forced to hum, filling space temporarily, before returning with a snappy response. “It’s like a normal date,” they state. “We’re the only ones who know it’s not actually one.”
Such a pitiful excuse, in actuality – because when you really think about it, nobody in Hometown could care less if Kris and Susie were dating or not. Not a soul would spare them a glance – not a single head would turn their way.
And yet, Susie doesn’t catch on.
“.. Huh,” she murmurs. “Sounds cool as hell.”
Her beam transforms, brightening, and her eyes soften as her head twists around, her gaze locking with Kris’ own. There’s so much hope in that glance alone – so much ambition, so many expectations.
It’s what solidifies Kris’ desire to push on forwards, hardening their resolve.
No matter what happens today, they’re not going to let Susie down – this will be cool as hell; this will be the best fake date in history.
.. If there’s even any history of those, anyway.
Kris smoothly pays for both of their tickets – it’s not like Susie had any money to be wasting on trivial things like this, anyway. There’s a reason why they’d stolen an extra wad of cash from Asriel’s chest of drawers before leaving this morning. If he complained about it during his visit home over the Christmas break, then so be it. Kris would rather deal with an angry Azzy than a disappointed Susie. Only one of those things is capable of crushing their heart into two.
Their hand remains enveloped in Susie’s as they take a step into the entrance of the festival, and —
Wow, this is overwhelming.
There’s children everywhere, rushing to and fro. Some have parents chained to their wrists, others do not. There’s balloons and music and lights glittered across the trees that enclose the area. There’s a station of cops, vendors selling food, and trinkets, and hosting all kinds of games.
Kris had been here every year since they were a kid, and yet this sense of overwhelmedness never calmed. It was like being hit by a truck, all bright and flashy and terrifying. Though, they supposed that in this situation, they would at least be able to recover from the bright and the flashy. People who were hit by trucks didn’t tend to be capable of such a feat.
They glance over their shoulder, staring expectantly behind them – where they’re met with the sight of Susie, once again.
And Susie is mesmerised.
She’s still, standing there with widened, enchanted eyes. They’re gleaming and glistening – relishing in the beauty of the chaos. She glances between all of the tacky decorations, inhales the scents of food from the street vendors, and when she’s finished processing absolutely everything, a kind smile frames her cheeks.
And there’s only one thing that Kris can interpret from that – that Susie had never seen the festival before.
Anyone who had been to Hometown’s festival before would know that such a place was not as bright and glittery as it had been made out to be – anyone who had endured the shaky ferris wheel ride and the scammy festival games would be aware of such a truth.
Yet, Susie didn’t seem to be in the know.
Combining the fact that she’s only lived in Hometown for a few years, therefore slimming her chances, with the fact that she’d always resigned herself away from festivities and celebrations, it all becomes faintly obvious to Kris. “You’ve never been before?” they ask.
Susie practically scoffs, as though it’s some sort of given. “Always thought I’d be out of place at this kind of thing,” she elaborates, accompanying her response with a shrug of her shoulders. “Most people don’t look at me kindly.”
Kris tightens their lips. The words ‘I do,’ linger on the tip of their tongue. It’s not something so out of place for a fake date – but Kris is fairly certain that if it were to be brought up again in casual conversation, they’d have a very hard time declaring that their words had been false.
And so they opt for the next best response – to prove that statement.
They stare back at Susie, their gaze gentle as it caresses her face. She’s so sweet from their point of view, so kind and tender in all that she is. She’s hopeful and bright, gleaming and strong. Kris almost catches themself feeling a little jealous, before then discarding all of that.
Susie flushes, and she twists her head away from them, shielding herself from the care of their view. “Dude,” she states, humiliation creeping into her words. “I get we’re on a date, but don’t look at me like that.”
She’s clearly not used to this kind of affection in a public setting yet, and so Kris scoffs, and they begrudgingly tear their eyes away. They’re set back out onto the view ahead of them.
Right, the festival.
Their grasp around Susie’s hand tightens as they lead the way.
They guide her through the twisting pathways – the rows upon rows of vendors and street food sellers. They occasionally pause in their stance when Susie’s eye is caught by something – but they’re usually unable to get past staring at said object before their reality hits them.
They don't have the money for pretty much any of this.
Being two, broke teenagers at a festival isn’t actually all that fun. Sure, the music’s free and the wafting aroma of greasy food is a little satisfying. But what are they even supposed to do? Hook a duck is worth about two dollars – a frightening price, considering all of the prizes are dropshipped. The cost of tombola, also a stark price, is far too high for the risk that you’ll end up with someone’s used socks. And, finally, lucky dip is geared towards literal children. Perhaps that’s the best part of it, though – it’s like something of an escape from the looming adulthood approaching the two.
Pretty much the only saving grace throughout this endeavour is the fact that they’re there with Susie. She’s pretty energetic about it all, making quips and jokes out of the staunch prices – giggling when she sees toys that she finds silly enough to spur on a fit of laughter. It’s enough to rid Kris of any festering frustration that’s threatening to build, instead replacing it with an unbridled sense of joy.
After doing their first run through the festival, Kris bites the bottom of their lip and whips out their purse from within their pocket. Sitting at the very bottom is a five dollar note and six measly coins. It’s probably enough to secure them both a ride on the ferris wheel, and maybe a portion of fries from QC’s booth if they’re able to haggle the price down enough.
Susie glances over their wallet, staring a hole into the bottom of it. “How much you got?” She asks, her voice way too hopeful considering the circumstances. Then again, she always was too hopeful.
Kris purses their lips and shrugs their shoulders. “Like, six.. Ish..”
“Ah,” she mutters, the word falling out as more of a sigh. “We’re broke.”
Kris masks a chuckle, then responds a little snarkily, “Always were.”
Their conversation pauses for a beat or two as they both wrack their brain for any potential solutions. There isn’t much here they could do for free – the event is hosted by Carol Holiday, after all. She’s Hometown’s richest woman for good reason.
Susie raises a hand to her chin, contemplative. “How about we, uh…” she murmurs, before being hit by a sudden wave of inspiration. Her head snaps straight and her hands return back down to her sides as she voices her suggestion, “The music is free, right?”
Kris nods – the music is in fact free. They reconnect their hands with Susie’s, not wanting to lose her – not wanting to lose themself, and begin to lead the way over. They’re completely and utterly unaware of the horrors that are about to greet them.
As soon as they enter the musical area, regret seeps into their skin. It’s lively and somehow crowded, busy enough that there’s no space to weave your way towards the front or even weave your way out, and the music is—
Well, where do they start?
In full honesty, it sucks. Like, really, really badly sucks. The vocalist is both too loud and too quiet, their voice overshadowed by the booming of the instruments at the best of times and their words giving Kris a splitting headache at the worst.
The pianist can’t seem to stay on time – Kris would be a better fit themself, even with their ever-wavering confidence, and the drummer doesn’t seem like they know what they’re doing. It’s worse than any other aspect of the festival that Kris had ever faced in their life before, prompting them to pray that a pair of noise-cancelling headphones will appear atop their head and that all the side effects will suddenly vanish.
Almost as if on cue, right before the end of the first song, Kris feels a pair of hands reach atop their head – placing themselves over their ears so as to mask any incoming sound. They glance upwards, completely unsurprised to find that the owner of said hands is Susie, who gives them a tight-lipped smile as she signals towards the exit of the music area.
They swiftly nod, more than happy to take the out, and are incredibly pleased to find that Susie’s hands don’t falter as she guides them back the way they came from.
It’s only when they’re metres away, no longer surrounded by the hideously-timed musical number, that Kris finds themself able to let out a sigh of relief. They can still hear the screech of the microphone in the back of their mind – are still haunted by the insistent crashing and bashing and battering of those drumsticks that should probably be snapped by now.
They’d found themselves perched on a bench in one of the quieter areas, surrounded by trees and facing a picnic table. Despite it being the only one with any ounce of space nearby, there was unfortunately only room for one person, leaving Susie abandoned a few centimetres away.
But they found that having her there and willing to save them from inevitable over-stimulation hell was astoundingly reassuring – hence why they’d been so initially hesitant to take the seat. They glance up at her, offer up a smile as if to say they’d recovered, then watch as she returns something of a similar calibre.
Though, hers doesn’t take long to vanish as she finally finds the words to voice her opinion on the matter, “That was kinda sick.”
It’s clear and concise – yet spoken in a way that contains two meanings. And Kris, despite having been subjected to the horrors of The Band, finds that they’re unable to discern which of the two Susie had meant. “..In a good way or a bad way?”
Susie quirks up an eyebrow. “Do you have ears?” She teases, scoffing. “Bad way, dude.”
Kris blinks, their eyes now shining – glad to know they’re on the same page.
Then Susie, not yet met with an answer, begins to run on a tangent. “You know, you could play so much better than that.”
It’s one Kris had heard time and time again. Usually from relatives who glazed them far too much for their ego’s own good or friends who didn’t know how to play. Somewhat unsurprisingly, though, Kris had never found that the words would stick. They’d usually remain modest, always down to earth, brushing off the compliments and acting as though they were only spoken out of obligation rather than for any other reason.
“You should’ve played, actually – I’d love to have seen you on stage,” Susie continues.
What’s funny, though, is that this is the first time such a compliment has ever actually had even a chance of sticking for longer than a second or two. It’s the first time that Kris had actually considered the speaker’s words might be true, that they might be something more than an elaborate lie made up purely for the sake of pleasing them.
Their cheeks begin to flush, embarrassed that they’d assume such a ridiculous statement, and they shake their head from side to side. “I can’t do that..”
Susie scoffs, flicking her curly head of hair. “Yeah you can,” She argues, as though it’s some kind of given. “You’d kick ass – you’re so cool anyway, the stage presence on you would be insane.”
Even though they’d already been glittering before, Kris can feel their eyes shine. Their head raises upwards from its place against the floor, praying that the breeze of the wind will be enough to cool their cheeks as it tousles their hair. “.. You think so?”
Susie pauses, freezing up like a deer caught in headlights. She only now realises what she’d said. She, too, begins to fluster as she mutters out an, “Uh..” in a pitiful attempt to buy herself some time.
And now is when Kris is fairly sure they’re going to be met with some kind of disappointment – that they’re going to be faced with the rejection they’d always given themself before. Because, after all, it was rare that things were only ever good.
But Susie nods her head, hardening her resolve. She doubles down on her previous statement, “Yeah, I know so,” and forces a brightened beam onto her cheeks.
Kris feels their own lips tug upwards in imitation, then stands up from the bench they’d resigned themself to. Their hand reaches to their side, reconnecting with Susie’s as they begin to create a path forwards.
They don’t acknowledge what she’d previously told them – they’re not sure they want to, out of pure fear that maybe what they’d assumed had been wrong. Instead, they guide the way towards the ferris wheel, the attraction Susie had seemed most excited for, with an intent to pay for both their tickets. Out of gratitude, of course.
Kris is suave as they make their way over towards the ticket booth. They’re not even entirely certain they’ll have enough money for the both of them – six dollars isn’t likely to get you basically anywhere in this economy.
Yet, they still want to try. They’re persistent as they weave their way over, waiting in line for what feels like eternity, only to be slapped in the face by a sign that tells them tickets are $3.50 each. They grimace. Tickets were only $2 last year, for Angel’s sake.
They huff out a sigh, stare at the lonesome coins in their pocket, then ready themself for the inevitable session of mooching and bargaining.
It takes about ten minutes or so, but Kris is eventually very glad to announce that they’re able to return with two, whole tickets. And, wonderfully enough, both of which had been nabbed for a measly $2 each – take that, ticketseller!
They’re excited to show them off to Susie – excited to see her reaction, to watch as her face morphs with unbridled joy and her fingers begin to fidget with anticipation. But when they return to the spot they’d left her in, they find that she’s.. Gone?
They glance around, their head spinning. She’s nowhere to be seen in this little subsection – nowhere of note in the waiting area, and most certainly not in eyesight. She’s.. Gone?
Their lips tighten and their heart slips into their stomach, writhing and wriggling there with a kind of disoriented disappointment. They’d gone through all this effort – had put the work in to invite her out (Even if they had chickened out last minute), had paced around their room with a frustrated kind of anticipation.
And now she’s just – gone?
They whirl themselves around and around, twirling on their heel as they try to keep their gaze firm, yet malleable enough that they’re able to see all of their surroundings. They want to capture everything in entirety, don’t want to leave any room for even the slightest error, they —
Wait.
From the corner of their eye, they catch a head of curly, purple-tinted brown hair. Their heart resurfaces from their stomach, now light and weightless in a way they hadn’t expected it to be. They find their lips curling upwards, where they swiftly turn them back down to put up a more neutral face, and they exercise their legs over to where they’d seen Susie.
She’s still near the ferris wheel, just more so off to the side – where the amount of people is significantly lessened and the atmosphere doesn’t feel quite so stifling. Their footsteps make no sound as they creep up on her, keeping them as patient as possible.
It’s in keeping slow and steady, like this, that they realise something of mild importance.
Susie is not alone.
Her hands are stretched outwards gently, a seemingly neutral expression etched onto her lips. Kris knows that expression, though – they’d made themself familiar with it, finding the worry and the fear that it stands for to be upsetting. They’re about to stretch their hand out to make their presence known – to scare her, or something like that. Yet, as soon as they feel the soft cotton brush against their silky skin, they hold themself back.
Something new fills their ears.
It’s a wail of sorts – that of a child in need of something they miss, of someone who’d found themself deeply lost.
Their hand retreats, returning to their side, and they peek their head around Susie’s torso, where they’re met with the shaking form of a sobbing, young kid. She’s probably no older than a first grader, with an extended snout and pink locks tied into braids. They’re accompanied by two, pretty bows, and a dungaree-style dress that reaches her knees. Her palms are covering her eyes, obscuring her view. Strangely enough, there’s something about her that feels almost.. Familiar?
Kris takes a step or two backwards, choosing not to intervene – to instead observe from the backgrounds. They’re already Hometown’s most bizarre attraction, so they’d rather not strike any more terror within someone already so frail.
Susie’s eyes are glossy as she peers downwards, dropping to her knees. The two seem like they’d already exchanged a few words – probably a conversation held prior to Kris’ appearance, or something. The girl isn’t tense or awkward as Susie extends her arm outwards, placing it onto her shoulder in a comforting manner.
“I, um..” She mutters, awkward in all that she is. “We could.. try find them?”
The girl’s hands pause, no longer rubbing incessantly at the ever-flowing tears sprouting from her eyes. She raises her head upwards, blinking, then tilts it to one side. “Y-You–” Sniffle. “Mean.. it?”
Susie’s eyes grow wide, somewhat unsure, but she nods up and down anyway. It’s a false kind of hope, yet one that’s contagious – the little girl brightens completely, and she, too, nods enthusiastically.
And with Susie’s next action, Kris’ heart stirs. Because Susie is so kind that it actually physically hurts.
She takes the poor child by its shaking, terrified hand, where she nurtures it within her own embrace. Her palms are much larger – her claws much sharper and her fingers littered with far more scars than this child may ever gain.
But she’s ever-so gentle for someone so large and sharp and scarred.
“So, uh..” she murmurs, lulling her voice down to a soft whisper as she guides the way. “Stop me if you see your parents, ‘kay?”
The girl practically shoves herself into Susie’s grasp, jumping from her seat against hay bales, where she wraps her tiny little arms around Susie’s legs. Susie startles, snapping up straight as she glares downwards, the height difference between them more than notable, but she eventually returns the action. Her hands are messy and cumbersome as she rubs up and down the girl’s back, but it’s an action that’s appreciated, no less. The kind of comfort someone like that needs.
It’s only when the two separate once again that Susie’s gaze aligns with Kris’, her cheeks flushing as she realises how much they’d witnessed.
Kris immediately huffs out the fondest of chuckles, then pockets the tickets they’d initially been so excited to show off. “Side quest?” They ask. Another head whips around in response, surprised by the intrusion of a voice she’s unfamiliar with.
Susie rolls her eyes, takes the girl’s hand again, then nods affirmatively. “Side quest.”
And this is the start of a very long, drawn-out, awkward conversation with the girl about Kris, their strange appearance and who they are, all whilst the three of them trundle through the winding pathways of the festival ground.
Susie first goes to explain that Kris is her best friend, before swiftly cutting herself off by describing them as ‘Uh.. On a date.’ It first makes Kris’ head spin positively with possibilities, before realising that they’d been the one to set the terms of this fake-date, and that keeping up this act was one of the conditions.
She explains that she’d known them for a few months – that they’re ‘Pretty damn cool’, that they play piano with a kind of skilled expertise she’d never seen anyone else play with before, and that, most important of all, they were the only person who’d ever put up with her own bullshit.
This then prompts the girl to ask Kris about Susie. A situation that’s even worse than the questions she’d been prodding at earlier. They’re stumped for a moment, slightly confused as they search the corners and depths of their mind for answers that don’t reveal their devious intentions behind asking Susie out on this date.
They reply similarly to Susie at first, describing her as a ‘date’ – skipping the stage of almost fumbling and referring to her as their best friend like she hadn’t quite managed. But then they continue on and on, their lips forming a goofy grin, as they explain all that they’d been through together. How Susie had at first hated their guts, exercising all of her free will to spend every waking moment of her life hating their very being.
And then they reach the topic of how they’d become friends – and then had crushed on one another, which led them here; to this date.
The girl nods her head as she walks, seemingly taking all of the information in. It’s how she manages to come up with an absurd question – one that Kris doesn’t expect to fall from the lips of a child so young. “So you two, like.. Kiss?”
Kris pauses – Susie doesn’t. It takes her a moment or so to process the question, before her limbs, too, turn to stone.
Then as if to make matters worse, the girl doesn’t seem to be finished there. “Mommy and Daddy do that too.”
Susie’s head slowly turns around, her gaze firm and the rest of her body cold. It takes Kris every bone in their body not to flush from their feet up to their forehead. She mutters a quick, “Shit,” from beneath her breath, before suddenly realising that’s a word she’s not supposed to say around a kid. Her hand flies towards her mouth, censoring herself, as she steadies herself with a careful sigh.
Kris can practically see the gears moving in her head as she wracks her brain for ideas – How does one explain a concept like this to a kid? Especially when they aren’t even really dating, and it’s all some kind of elaborate lie that Kris had spouted from their lips when struck with a deep kind of fear that they’d get rejected.
Because how does someone describe the concept of ‘Bros that kinda flirt and also one of them wants the other really bad’ to a little, innocent girl with no experience in this world?
Kris huffs out a sigh, and frees their limbs from rigidity as they take a bounding step forward, placing them back on par with the other two. They’re about to come up with a reply – they promise, they are – but they’re smoothly cut short as a lady manages to barge into their back.
She’s so panicked that she doesn’t seem to have noticed them, her hands all shaky as she huffs out a string of apologies. She excuses herself, pressing onwards for a few steps, before suddenly pausing again as she registers the sight that had been held before her. Her eyes widen, her lips parting, and her heels clack as she makes her way back towards the trio.
“Lillth!” She exclaims, rushing back down the path and bending down to the same level as the child Kris and Susie had unintentionally picked up. She holds her hands out into a welcoming, open embrace, and the girl - Lilith? - wriggles her way out of Susie’s finger to encapsulate herself into a hug.
Kris stares the lady up and down, noticing her extended snout and bright locks of hair. The clues connect, forming a grand picture in their mind, and they nod in realisation. This is the girl’s mother.
Lilith sniffles into her arms, crying and crying, her tears staining the ladies’ pretty clothes. But all Kris is able to do is offer up the lightest of smiles, glad that they’d both avoided having to answer the girl’s question, and that they and Susie were back on their own again.
The girl glances upwards, bright and beaming, where she offers out two, gratuitous ‘Thank You’s’. She places Lilith firm within her grasp, not wanting to lose her again, and the two spin the other way. They leave, though making sure not to forget the extra, added request – “Well, you two have a lovely date now, yes?”
Kris’ heart begins to thrum with delight, incredibly pleased that the two look like they're on a date, whilst Susie merely mumbles out an, “Uhh..”
The two don’t need to turn around to stare at one another in order to nod their heads in tandem, both spouting out a measly, “Yeah.”
The mother beams brightly, murmuring something about, ‘Ah, young love,’ before guiding her daughter the other way.
Kris has to take a moment to themself in order to process all that had happened – the girl and the mother, the questions and the uncertainty buried deep within their answer. Yet, when all is said and done, they’re back on their own with Susie and a pair of tickets they both need to spend.
They pull their phone from their pocket, glancing towards the time. Much to their own chagrin, it’s now 5pm.
The ferris wheel is now closed.
They huff out a sigh, crumpling the last remains of those four dollars they’d wasted, then bring their head upwards confidently. The haggling may have gotten them basically nowhere, but it did have one upside. The fact that they’ve still got money left.
They do a quick performance of mental maths, adding and subtracting from their initial total, where they reach the conclusion that they’ve still got two dollars remaining. Two dollars should be enough for a snack or two, yes?
“You hungry?” They inquire, rather stupidly. It’s not a question Susie really needs to be asked, considering how quickly she nods with vehement nod. They muster up a light chuckle, reconnect their hand with hers, ensuring to not take the sticky, child-palm covered one, and lead the way.
They’re doing a lot of that today, apparently.
As an incredible result of luck, QC’s running a stall here. She always has – it’s been a recurring thing ever since Kris was a small child, coming up to her with hands filled with their accumulated pocket money from many week’s worth of saving.
So they try their hardest to achieve the same feat now. Except, this time, they’ve got two dollars, a pocket-full of hopes and a dream in their mind – plus, they’re a lot more grown up now. They can’t use the excuse that they’re cute and poor anymore.
Regardless of the time since she’d last seen them, though, QC’s eyes brighten as she sees them come up to her. She ceases whatever she’s doing in favour of rushing over, greeting them with a warm welcome.
“Heya, Kris!” She shines. “Haven’t seen you enjoying yourself here in a long time, how are you doing?”
Kris stares at Susie, noticing how she’s somewhat excluded in this conversation, even despite being the whole reason they’re enjoying themself. They gulp down the guilt, answering simply, “I’m okay.”
QC’s smile widens, nodding affirmatively. “Whatcha after today?”
Kris’ hands reach into their pocket, pulling at whatever scrappy old coins they’ve got left. They slide them all over, uttering out a response, “Whatever this’ll get me.”
She stares at the fries, and it doesn’t take longer than a second for her to notice they’re nowhere near enough for anything substantial. But she takes them anyway. “I could discount you a portion of fries,” she suggests. “Special offer.”
Kris smiles – just the thing they’d been hoping for. Their head whips around, and they stare up at Susie. “Is that okay with you?”
The question is whispered somewhat quietly, just a small little note in passing. They’re not sure how much they want QC to pick up on their relationship, seeing as it is a little embarrassing having someone you’ve known so long suddenly find out something so intrusive and imposing.
.. Then again, they did set up this fake date to begin with.
“Hell yeah,” Susie returns. Her words are quite the opposite of Kris’, spoken very much aloud – drawing maybe a little too much attention to them both.
Kris flushes, and they spin themselves back around so that they can return their gaze upon QC. “Yes please, then.”
She gives them something of a knowing smirk, then gets back to work in her mini kitchen. “Coming right up, sweetheart.”
And coming right up, it is. It takes no longer than five minutes for them to be served a portion of steaming hot french fries, placed into their palm with tender care so as to not burn them. They turn on their heels, scouring the area for a bench that they and Susie can collapse on.
As they do so, they notice that it’s now just them. Them and the silence of the rest of the world – them and each other. Their heart warms with glee, and they shove a fry down their throat to stop the squeal that bubbles back there.
Susie steals one of her own, then huffs out a statement that Kris doesn’t know if they’d consider to be true, “This was a pretty good date.”
Their eyebrows furrow, but they don’t deny it. Even if forcing their feet up and down on the ground for a good few hours, in search of something even remotely interesting, then trying to find a home for a lost child isn’t their ideal concept for a first date. “Yeah?”
“Uh huh,” She nods. “First I’ve ever been on, even if..” She pauses momentarily, twirling her head around to check who’s around. She spots a nearby couple, and resides herself towards a more vague response. “Well, y’know..”
Ah.
Kris feels an all-too familiar sense of guilt creeping up in their chest, rising and then harshly stopping. Susie’s first ever date – and they’d made it something fake. None of what they’d done today had been fake for them; the hand-holding and the compliments and every little glance or gaze they’d thrown her way. All of that had been real in their eyes.
In fact, sitting here, on this shabby little bench, was the first time today that Kris had even considered everything was supposed to be fake. This insane, unbridled feeling of longing in the pit of their stomach is supposed to be fake – the smile that’s threatening to creep onto their lips as they watch Susie gnaw down on those fries is supposed to be fake.
In their heart, they feel all of these things so strongly – with such force that it’s incredibly difficult to place them down into words. Which is what had thrown them into this situation to begin with.
Their own inability to explain their feelings with words.
And it was probably what would end up wrapping them into something of the same caliber again, sometime down the line. There was no easy way to explain all of this to Susie – no way to open their mouth and declare that none of their emboldened actions this past day had been fake in their eyes.
So they’re forced to remain silent, shovelling another fry into their greedy gob as they nod their head up and down in agreement. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Yeah, man,” she utters. “It’s been fun.”
Kris nods, agreeing, then leans their head down against Susie’s broad shoulders. They’re warm, comforting, and it’s a feeling that they could find themself growing scarily fond of. They huff out a gentle chuckle, trying to wipe away the smile that works its way onto their lips.
She stares at them with watchful eyes, first stiffening in response to the suddenness of the touch, before slowly lulling back into normalcy as she watches the stages of happiness phase across Kris’ face.
And they’re quiet, for a moment or so.
It’s calm and gentle – more intimate than any spoken words could ever be.
Kris chuckles, revelling in the moment, then nudges their box of fries a little closer in her direction. Her eyes shine with delight, and she’s swift to bury her knuckles deep within. She pulls out a handful of fries – probably about six or seven, then proceeds to shove them into her gob.
She grins from ear to ear as she chews, her teeth chomping and making that unceremonious, disgusting chewing sound as the food crushes from beneath the sheer weight.
It’s not fun to hear – not in the slightest – and yet Kris finds their heart growing fond as they nuzzle themself a little closer into the crook of her shoulder, seeking as much warmth as possible. Their nostrils are filled with the scent of strong pine, forcing their stomach to flip and whirl as they bring themself so close that the two are basically fused.
It’s at this moment that they realise something that they can’t decide whether it's a blessing or a curse.
They don’t ever want this moment to end.