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⚠️ Content warning: Profanities and sexual content.
⚠️ content warning
01 Connor
“The best parents are those who never get the chance to become a parent themselves,” said the old man as he leaned back into the white plastic chair. He was wearing an old orange jumpsuit zipped down to reveal a white tee underneath, and on the shoulders, the suit bore The Insignia. In a practiced motion, he crossed his right leg over his left and settled more comfortably into the chair. He continued:
“It’s the same principle as when a genius, or someone fated to be influential, to lead, to make a difference, is born into a bad life; poor, no education, no ways for him to etch his name into the history of the world as the next Big Person,” Frank rambled on, shaking his head in mock-pity.
“You’re single right? In your lifetime, you meet about a tenth of a million people. Considering you’re in your 30s, let’s cut that number down by about two thirds. You’ve probably seen about 30 000 people (if you’re the social type), but you haven’t really interacted with even a fraction of this number. You probably still have yet to find someone you truly and fully love and most likely never will. Imagine this: there are almost 8 billion people and it’s highly impossible that there isn’t one right for you. Your soulmate’s out there, waiting. They could be in Argentina, Myanmar, Greenland, in places you’ll never visit or villages you’ll never even discover. The chance for you to find them in the next 70 000 people you meet is so infinitely small, most people will have to settle down with someone less, but still acceptable. Even you aren’t an exception to this rule!”
I frowned. “Frank, that’s all good and well, but you see, I’m not really here to have a nice little chat with you. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re a D-Class now, and we’re detaining you until we get the information we need, which so happens to not be this ostentatious love advice that you’re giving.”
“You’re always impatient. See, that’s why you haven’t got a girlfriend yet,” smirking, Frank stated matter-of-factly.
Breathing in deeply, I retorted: “Look, I’m trying to make life easier for the both of us because of who you were,” at this comment, Frank snorted but I continued, trying to ignore him. “As long as you keep treating me as your friend, Mr. Frank, you won’t be enjoying your time here. So please, let’s proceed with the investigation, shall we?”
Frank harrumphed. As if contemplating, he rubbed his chin while staring off into a corner of the room. Finally, his face lit up as if he had made a decision. He grinned wide.
“I’d like someone more experienced in talking to a poor old man like me. Is there a therapist or someone that’s professionally trained?” He feigned as he groaned loudly, obviously trying to attract the attention of Clementine, who was on the other side of the 1-way window. I grit my teeth in annoyance.
“I’m professionally trained, and you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your time here, so why don’t you shut your-”
The speakers fizzled a little before popping alive, radiating a tinny voice.
“Uh… Connor. Please proceed out of the cell, the stipulated time for your interaction is over.”
“You cut me off! We barely started anything,” in a voice that was almost shouting but not quite, I accused Clementine.
She swept a fallen piece of her curly hair behind her ears as she sighed. Twirling into the swivel chair, she slumped and grabbed the coffee mug off the table, glancing at the brown stain left by it. I was still staring at her adamantly. After a while, she finally decided to look me back in the eye. “Connor. You know, I know, that you’re not so good with uncooperative people. Poor match with Mr Frank here - we’ve kept an eye on him for a while already and he loves pushing people’s buttons. You’re a little stuck-up, and you can’t relax,” she said as she jabbed her index finger into my stomach playfully.
I pulled a palm down my face. “Frank’s always been like this and I know that. But this isn’t a place for me to relax, Clem. This is work. You keep telling me to loosen up a little when I’ve already explained to you a million times the exact reason I won’t ever do that,” I grumbled.
“I understand that. It’s just, people aren’t things, Connor. You gotta strike up a conversation with them, make them let their guard down. People are more complicated than what you usually work with. You usually work with oranges, the good stuff is underneath just a layer. People like Don? He worked with onions, there is no “good stuff” in onions, or people for that matter. Only reason you’re here right now is because we’re short on manpower and Don’s not around.”
“I’m as good as Don is with people.”
“…Really. Well, I don’t think so.” Clementine took a sip of her coffee.
“Look, just because he has a degree in psychology or philosophy or whatever and I don’t doesn’t mean I can’t fill in his spot,” I started petulantly, but when I remembered the reason that I requested to change departments in the first place, I mumbled, “I’m… not that useless. Okay, here’s the deal. I promise I’ll do my best here even while Don’s gone. Just don’t tell the higher-ups to remove me from this case. Please.”
Clementine set down her cup, and we looked at each other for a long while. Only then did I observe that she had gotten visibly older compared to just a month ago. The incident really took a toll on all of us. I averted my gaze quickly when I realised it was travelling to her hollow left sleeve. She took a sharp breath.
“…Fine. Call me if you’re going to the canteen later,” she whispered as she rubbed the spot between her eyebrows.
“Yeah. See you,” I lingered for a moment, before exiting the room.
02 Clementine
That was the last time slot that the interrogation room was going to be used for today. Gripping my office chair with my right hand, I planted my feet on the table and pushed off it, spinning across the room to the little intercom by the left of the tall potted plant. I held down the hash key for a while.
The speakers crackled to life.
“Hey, what’s up?” Yang’s voice came through. My body melted, the tension slightly relieved as I heard him.
“Clementine here. I’m locking up room F-451 soon. I got Fra- uh… detainee Lambda-729 with me so I’ll need the escorts over soon.”
“I’ll send over Gary and Herman, they’ll be there in about a minute or so.”
“Thanks, Yang.”
There was a brief moment of silence.
“So… Yang, is the date still on?” I asked meekly, subconsciously moving my left arm to itch the back of my neck and was very confused for a while when I couldn't. Shit.
“Ah, ah. Foundation line, don’t say too much. I’ll text you later when your shift is done. 11pm, yeah?” Yang quickly hushed me.
Hearing Yang’s voice made me happy, and I think that joy was accentuated by the fact that I was both sleep-deprived and hungry. Sometimes when I miss him, I don't really need us to have a long conversation to catch up with each other. I just need some reassurance that he's there and will be for me later. I smiled. His presence alone already takes my mind off stupid stuff.
“Mhm,” I replied, “But I’m gonna go get supper first, I’m feeling a little peckish. Hadn’t got anything to eat since 5 in the evening."
"Are you going with anyone?"
It was then I hesitated. I really couldn’t tell Yang I was gonna eat with Connor. Yang hated Connor for good reason, and I should hate Connor too because of what he did, but…
“…No. I was gonna ask Tabby but I remembered she didn’t clock in today,” I lied through my teeth.
“Okay then, see you, love you!” Yang replied cheerily.
“Love you too, Ya- ah.” He cut the line before I could complete my sentence.
I bit on my lower lip.
I wish he stayed for a bit longer, then maybe I would have changed my mind about going with Connor. Maybe I could have mustered up the courage to tell him that I lied, that this wasn’t as transparent of a relationship as he and I hoped we had. What was that word again? In French, about the regret I feel whenever I leave a conversation with Yang without saying all I had in mind. L’esprit de escalier, that’s it. I promised to myself that I would tell him one day, but I’ll make sure that I gain something out of it when I do.
I don’t know what I saw in Connor. He was right in front of me, right now, and I was thinking that. I had a couple of theories but in the end, it always boiled down to how he made me feel in his presence. He’s large. Not physically, no. Whenever I’m near him I feel a tingle in my feet and a flutter in my chest, something I never felt with Yang even when I first met him. Something I never feel with anyone, a feeling I particularly hate.
Connor makes me feel small. I looked down to my left arm, or at least the arm that was there before it got cut off because of him. Connor is legitimately trash. He’s a fucking man-child that only cares about himself; a selfish prick that believes that the value of his life is higher than the lives of others. It’s a completely different vibe to what I get from Yang. Yang’s sweet and compassionate. He actually cares about me and asks how my day was when we meet each other in the parking lot and cheers me up when I look down.
Connor just looks at me weird whenever I’m around. In fact, he was doing it now. He doesn’t even see me as a human being! I’m nothing to him and everything to Yang!
So, tell me, why do I like that look so much? Maybe it’s because I know that I’m the one in control, even if he looks at me like that.
“Clem? It’s not like you to zone out like that, you fine?” Connor asked, with a tone of slight concern.
His voice snapped me out of my introspection.
“…Yeah, I’m fine. Frank just gave me a little bit of trouble after you left, it seems like he wasn’t satisfied with annoying you.”
Connor clucked his tongue, believing my tiny fib. That’s when I decided to execute my plan that had truthfully already been in motion for a few months now. Operation: make Connor fall for me, in any way possible.
“What’s even worse is that I can’t say anything to him,” I pushed forward and continued to recount my entirely made-up suffering at Frank’s hands, “considering that we… no, you put him in there in the first place.” Connor froze. A small, dirty smile crept up the corner of my lips. I raised my chin up slightly and looked down at him.
“I thought we all promised to never bring that up again,” Connor mumbled morosely, his eyes averting my accusing gaze.
“Of course, that was my bad, and I’m not blaming you or anything. I know it’s a sore spot for you, me and Don,” I said, pretending to back off. Connor winced.
“But I can’t help but complain sometimes, you know? In the end, there’s only the two of us left, and you're the only one I can tell. Frank knows how to push buttons, and he really reminds me of the past we used to have, all four of us. It really makes me think sometimes: wouldn’t we all be happier if that didn’t happen?”
Connor stayed silent.
“If you had followed Frank’s orders then, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation?” On cue, I raised my left arm, pointing at the stump with my other hand, attracting Connor’s attention. He bit his lips. It looked very painful.
I leaned forward in my chair, and I brought my head right beside his. Softly touching his right shoulder, I brushed my lips against his right ear, and whispered into them:
“Maybe if you weren’t such a useless teammate, Don would probably have been here. Sitting with us and joking like he always did, and not in a coma due to your recklessness.”
Retracting my body and slipping back into my seat, I observed Connor. His face that had been perpetually aimed at the floor since the beginning of our conversation had turned extremely pale, and I noticed that he was shuddering terribly. Small beads of sweat had formed by the side of his head and his hands, that were on the table, were shivering slightly.
“But we don’t talk about it anymore, for the good of all of us. Remember, Connor, that you still have me,” I musicked, as I reached out to grab his shaking hand. He looked up at me. Softening my gaze, my lips parted once again to reassure him. “If there’s anything that bothers you, you can tell me. After all, we’re in this together.”
Connor still looked shaken, but his face had regained some of his colour. I nodded to myself in a satisfied manner. I stood up. Twirling around the table in one large stride, I slipped my right arm under Connor’s. I reached my left stump across his back, wrapping him in a boa’s embrace. “You got me, okay? I love you,” I mouthed into his ear. Turning his head to face me, I looked at his pathetic face as I kissed his lips slowly, tracing my tongue along them.
I left him and strutted away, smiling contentedly. With this, there’s no way he can escape from my grasp now.
03 Connor
I vomited into the toilet bowl. Whatever I ate during supper just now was regurgitated, my stomach refusing to hold any of its contents. Bile tickled the back of my nose as tears and snot and undigested food mixed into a disgusting concoction that floated on the water like waste in the sewers. Through the gaps in the floating pieces of vomit, I saw myself in the water. I threw up again.
After a while, I leaned back, almost slamming my head against the cubicle door. All I needed right now was air, and the poor ventilation of the claustrophobic room was not helping my case at all. It seemed as if the oxygen in the air just didn’t want to enter my airways, and the only thing that filled my nostrils was the caustic bite of the contents of my stomach that floated on the toilet water.
I let my tears, mucus and saliva run down my neck. I couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away. Clem was right, it was all my fault that we were in this situation. It’s my fault that Frank lost his job and was framed as the main perpetrator and instigator of the event that confined Don to the hospital, lying vulnerable in a helpless and endless sleep. It’s my fault that everything that could have gone wrong with the experiment, went wrong and took off Clem’s left arm, her good arm. Nothing can replace them, and everything’s “Wrong!” I screamed out loud, my frustrated voice echoing in the small chambers of the isolated lavatory.
I sniffled, and I raised my left hand. Looking at it, I laughed, amused that despite me being the one that caused it all, I survived with no repercussions. I didn’t even get the chance to repent for my sins. My arm dropped back down limply by my side. In an attempt to console myself, I reasoned: but I guess Clem is still fine with me, even after all I did. She promised to me she would still be by my side.
I breathed slowly and deeply, and soon my vision blurred with tears and fatigue. With the icky feel of my own excretions running down my goosebump-ridden skin and the uncomfortable texture of my wet-with-sweat office shirt clinging onto my body, I fell asleep, my body propped up against the cubicle door. And soon, I was dreaming the first dream I had in a decade.
“What do you think about Clem going on a date with Yang?” asked Don.
“I don’t give a shit about her, she can do whatever she wants. Why’re you asking?” I managed to scoff as I continued chewing on the McDonald’s fry in my hand.
Turning his head slightly to me as we walked down the long corridors of the Foundation facility, Don gave me a mischievous grin.
“I noticed, you know, the way Clem looks at you. She’s totally into you.”
“She ain’t, why would she go out with Yang then, Doctor Don?” I mentioned snidely.
“You don’t know anything about women, do you? I mean, I won’t claim like I’m some kinda guru because I’m not — if I was, Francine wouldn’t have broken up with me — but it’s pretty obvious at this point.”
“It’s not for me. Go on.”
“To tell you the truth, I try to remain impartial and I say I’m a man that knows where his loyalties lay. I’m not easily swayed and wouldn’t rat Clem out unless I have something to gain.”
“What are you trying to say?” I narrowed my eyes in mock suspicion.
“A fry.”
I handed him one wordlessly.
“Alright, so,” Don mumbled out as he chewed on the fry, “Clem came up to me last week, actually. She asked if you were single.”
“And what did you say.?”
“I said, of course not! Connor is madly in love with me.”
I punched his arm. He recoiled and winced, but over the years of spending time with Don, I knew that he was just playing. Maybe I was too, belatedly realising that a small smile had formed on my face.
“One more fry and I’ll continue,” Don demanded as he pouted his lips, trying to appear as pitiful as possible.
“Suddenly, I don’t really feel like hearing more. I mean it’s not like it matters to me any-”
“Alright, alright! Just promise to share a few more once I’m done with the story.”
I shot him an unamused look. Relenting, he sighed.
“Last week after our evening research with Frank, I met Clem in the cafe. I sat her down and ate something but all the time while I was eating she just kept asking about you. Mundane questions like what you liked and stuff like that. I mean, it’s pretty much common knowledge anyways so it’s fine.”
“That’s it?”
“Apart from her asking if you were single, yeah. I mean what other evidence do you need to have to see that Clem likes you?”
“I mean, it’s just weird she wouldn’t ask me directly,” I frowned.
“Oh, what’s this? Are you by chance, sad that Clem didn’t ask you for a date directly? I didn’t know that the scary Connor would have such a soft-”
I punched the same spot on his arm again.
“Ow, okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Don muttered morosely, rubbing his arm.
“I mean, it’s weird that she chose such a roundabout way to ask about me when we’re literally on the same team, but I guess it doesn’t matter. She seems to be over me already, seeing that she’s already on another dude’s di-”
“Ah, look, it’s Frank! Hey Frank!” Don shouted, waving his arms exaggeratedly as he ran towards the aged researcher. Frank was shorter than both of us, but his ramrod straight posture made him appear much more imposing and appropriately senior to us. His intelligent face was worn by the passage of time, his wrinkles becoming accentuated and his crow’s feet deepening as he grinned when he saw us.
“If it isn’t Don and — oh, who’s this? — Mr. Buttercup here,” Frank greeted, slotting his pen into his chest pocket.
“Shut up, Frank,” I grumbled, catching up with the two.
“How’s the day been treating you two?” Frank continued, obviously satisfied with my reaction.
“Good. We just came back from Mac’s,” Don explained, taking the files from Frank’s hands, “We were just talking about Clem going on a date with Yang, even though we knew she liked Connor,” he continued, jabbing a thumb into my chest.
“We? Who is ‘we’? I never knew. In fact, you’re the one that brought this up in the first place. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even have noticed,” I asked.
“‘We’ is us, Don and I. It’s pretty obvious at this point, Buttercup. I mean, Connor,” Frank corrected himself when he noticed my annoyed glare. “There’s only two possibilities at this point. You are either very dense or you were a sage in your past life,” he continued, only to be cut off by Don. “Or you’re very gay.”
For a while, it was just me and Frank walking as we left the howling Don behind, who was clutching his shin dramatically, massaging the spot that I had just kicked. It was a reward for coming up with such an original joke. Soon, he caught up.
“You know, Connor, this is physical abuse at this point. Did the years of our friendship boil down to this toxic relationship?” Don lamented dramatically, clutching his heart.
Rolling my eyes, I nudged Frank to continue.
“Hm? Oh, right. Do you remember the time Clem came to a research session wearing a dress and heels? She strutted and fretted her hour upon the stage — and then that version of Clementine was heard no more after that. Of course, anybody would be discouraged from that measly attendance! Her stage was the R&D room and the unappreciative audience member was…” Frank jabbed a finger into my chest and raised an eyebrow, an accusatory look that condemned me for not being able to figure out her feelings for me, then continued: “It was kind of embarrassing to see a grown woman acting that way but it’s not the team’s fault that we didn’t stop it. It was kind of funny,” Frank laughed. “And to go through all the effort for you, I wonder what she sees in a man that valued the analysis samples more than her dressing up for the occasion.”
“When you bring that to attention…” I trailed off.
“But it looks like the feelings aren’t reciprocated, huh?” Frank was smiling as he ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “It’s boring to talk about these kinds of things anyways when it’s so one-sided. I think you’re the only one that never cared about Clem. She’s pretty good-looking and she’s the star of our department, so you always have time to reconsider,” Frank mentioned half-seriously.
“Not interested. I’m happy with how things are,” I smiled as I wrapped my arms over the shoulders of my two friends.
I woke up. I vomited again, but this time, my body only managed to push out the last dregs of saliva mixed with the morsels of the little food I had left in my stomach. Crying for a few more minutes, I gripped my neck as hard as I could with both my hands, wanting to put an end to the burning sensation I felt down my entire throat. But soon, those cursed, useless hands of mine lost strength and they fell weakly to my sides.
I wish things stayed that way.
Hauling myself up, I flipped the toilet cover down and flushed, hoping that the night’s misery would be pulled down into the dark depths of the sewers along with all the waste from my guts. Opening the door, I trudged towards the basin and quickly washed my hands and face, purposely avoiding the stare of my own countenance in the mirror. The last thing I wanted to be reminded of was how god damned useless I was — by my own innermost guilt.
I left the toilet.
04 Clementine
I re-adjusted the hem of my skirt, smoothing out the kinks in the soft fabric. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, a dark-haired woman in a simple red-white striped shirt and a yellow knee-length skirt stared back at me. I grinned, noting that I looked perfect: pretty but not pretentiously so. A bad memory resurfaced: a time when I was so blinded by feelings of infatuation for Connor that I dressed embarrassingly. I shook the thought out of my head, it was the past and I had already redeemed myself anyways.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realised that I still had a couple of minutes before I would be too late for our date, so I decided to practice some expressions. Mother was always bothered about how we looked to others so I learnt to always keep my emotions in check. Learning how to consciously form expressions and practicing it was an important daily practice.
I continued to think about listless stuff as I flexed the muscles on my face, stretching and contorting them to reflect happiness, sadness, surprise, disgust and as many emotions I could display. Usually, I was able to keep myself in check but there are some people that I lose all inhibitions when I’m near them. In the recent past, it really took a lot of effort to re-arrange myself enough to seem cool whenever I was with Connor (especially after that horrible display of my inner desires). I mean, I learnt my lesson, I’m never doing that type of shit again for anyone.
The other person I toned down my stoicism was Yang. To be fair, the only reason I do that is because I like him quite a bit, but even then I still try to stay in control. Control is comforting. I was going to see Yang later anyways, and I was excited to see him again and actually be in charge of something again after the long and claustrophobic week in the Foundation’s pristine rooms. As a last practice, I rehearsed a few actions. All humans had actions they did unconsciously. Yang would touch his chin whenever he was lying and Frank would twiddle the extra skin at the tip of his ears whenever he was focusing. As a result of my upbringing, I never developed these habits. Some time in my teenage years, I took it upon myself to create a few fake subconscious actions that would represent emotions or at least be useful in making others think I was feeling a certain way, even when I wasn’t.
I averted my gaze and bit my lips — a flawless enactment of someone that felt guilty. I was satisfied with my preparations.
The clock face displayed 6:30. It was the perfect time to leave so that I could make Yang wait for at least 10 minutes. Walking out, I shut the door to my apartment behind me.
05 Yang
It was very easy to spot Clem in the crowd. A spot of colour in the otherwise monochrome background, I was thankful for having my ability in times like these. It made the moment much more special, allowing me to relish all the details of the moment she arrived during. The orange evening sunlight that was filtered through the leaves of the tree along the path danced across her hair and face, casting pretty shadows and highlighting the beautiful imperfections of her skin. My eyes penetrated the bland grey of the other pedestrians, tracking the movement of her slender fingers as they daintily tucked loose strands of hair behind an ear.
Lifting her head up, Clem’s eyelids fluttered in recognition as she spotted me, and she smiled. Then I realised I’d been smiling all this time as well. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I felt exposed when she started walking towards me and time seemed to slow down as I became increasingly consumed by feelings of self-doubt. Was my hair OK? I don't usually gel my hair but I did it for her today. Was my outfit alright? Looking down, I tugged at the hems of my shirt, trying to straighten out folds that didn’t exist. Did I look good enough? I wouldn’t want to embarrass Clem by walking by her side if I looked ugly.
Was I even good enough for her at all?
I don’t know how long had passed while I was frozen in this state of corrosive insecurity, but a warm sensation in my left hand; the soft touch of someone else’s fingers intertwining themselves between mine, brought me back.
When I came to, Clem was right beside me, the muscles of her face relaxed in a picturesque smile.
“Hey Yang,” Clem cooed, a hint of delight in her voice as she pronounced my name. All the tension that was knotting up in me melted away as I pulled her closer.
“Hi Clem, you look beautiful,” I said, kissing her on the forehead lightly. Her shampoo smelt nice. Her cheeks reddened, her face emitting a slight ethereal glow under the light of the streetlamp that illumined us.
“Stop staring at me like that, it’s embarrassing. Let’s go already,” she muttered with her cheeks slightly puffed out as she nudged me playfully. For the next few minutes, we walked in a comfortable silence, each other's presence calming the both of us.
“How’s work been?” I asked gently, not wanting to break our peace.
“It’s been going alright. The people in my new department are nice and everything has been going smoothly so far. Thank god we were allowed to switch departments,” sighed Clem, her face still pointed forwards.
“The higher-ups work fast, don’t they? Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago when you finished the project?" I asked absent-mindedly.
"Yeah," I heard a hint of sadness in her voice as she replied softly. At first, I was a little confused, then it hit me. Shoot. I completely forgot that she said she didn't want to talk about that incident or anything related to it anymore. Did I already mess up like, 5 minutes into the date? I held her right hand a little tighter, berating myself for not remembering the simple, yet important fact.
Clem seemed to have noticed my tightened grip. There was another moment of silence again, hers a relaxed quiet, mine a guilty one. As the minutes stretched on and my discomfort grew, I tried to break the quiet. Before I could start though, Clem spoke first.
“It’s alright, Yang. I know what you’re thinking,” she started, “and I don’t really mind anymore, but it’d be nice if you didn’t bring it up anymore.” I gulped. “Of course, it’s a sore spot, but I don’t like being pitied, you know that, right?” She continued as she kept staring forward. I nodded quickly. “I don’t want our date to just be ruined because of a little mistake, so I’ll let it go this time. I just wanted to talk to you about… just anything else, really.” As she finished the sentence, she looked at me, a warm smile on her face. “I just want to talk to you about stuff. It doesn’t have to be anything deep.” She let out a wistful laugh. “It’s just nice to take a break sometimes.” We had reached the cafe. I pushed open the door and let her enter first. “Let’s order something first, alright?”
We settled down on a table near a window that looked out into the street. While we were waiting for our order, Clem’s gaze was fixated somewhere outside and no words were exchanged. I finally relaxed, knowing that I had managed to escape Clem’s wrath. It was weird. Clem has never explicitly shown her anger, but I just knew somewhere in my subconscious that I just should never push her past a certain point.
I enjoyed this moment of wordlessness. Leaning back into my chair, I ‘switched on’ my ability, and everything apart from Clem shifted into grayscale. Because of my power, I was always a valuable asset to include in any investigations where traces had to be found. By setting parameters in my head, anything that wasn’t defined by those parameters turned black-and-white. Even though I was born with this gift, I still had not fully comprehended its capabilities, vague parameters like ‘anything relevant to the investigation’ worked to a certain extent but intuitively simpler ones like ‘find any fingerprints left behind at the scene’ didn’t seem to work even if it was much more specific.
When I was younger, I tried defining ‘the purpose of life’ and kept my ability switched on the whole day. Even after a whole day at school, I didn’t see anything that stood out. Even though I was a little discouraged as I thought I discovered the limitations of my ability, I was reluctant to deactivate it. It was when I arrived home that I was assaulted by a bunch of colours (it was as if I was a blind person that suddenly gained the ability to see) as my mum and sister greeted me, their bodies bathed in the pale yellow light of the sun as they shone brightly. My PS3 was glowing too.
I usually used the ability more for self-serving purposes nowadays — it's a great help when I try to find my glasses — and now was no exception. With the parameter ‘the person most important to me’, I observed Clem. She was the only splash of colour against the monochromatic world.
The server brought our order. I sent her off hurriedly after thanking her: I had satisfied my desire to just look and admire Clem’s beauty, but now I wanted to properly speak to her.
“How’s the sandwich?” Despite my eagerness to engage in a proper conversation, I started off tamely, suddenly not knowing what to say and feeling slightly awkward.
“It’s great. When did I tell you I liked tuna?” Clem said as she pulled the sandwich away from her mouth.
I relaxed a little bit and the words came out naturally. “You never really told me; I just remembered that when we were at my mum’s house, you really liked the tuna confit.”
“It was the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time,” Clem paused to take another bite at her sandwich. “I’m surprised you even remembered!”
“I tend to remember little things. But I mean, the way you were eating it was kind of unforgettable. I’ve never seen you so… engrossed in something before,” I mouthed dreamily, remembering Clem’s voracious manner of eating.
“Wow, that’s embarrassing. Sorry, I just eat like that when the food’s good. Why didn’t you tell me that day itself?”
“Didn’t really find the need to, after all. My mum told me after you left that you ate the food with such relish she wouldn’t mind cooking for you whenever.”
“Is that all she said?”
“Yeah? What do you mean?”
Clem laughed a little. “You’re sure she didn’t imply anything when she said that?”
“What’s there to impl-” Then I realised belatedly what my mother had probably meant. I looked up at Clem to see that she was looking at me in my eyes. There was a small winsome smile on her face and her cheeks were tinted a soft red.
“You know, Yang, I wouldn’t mind eating her food forever too,” Clem commented demurely.
Our gazes locked. My own cheeks grew hot. “I can cook as well as my mum too. She taught me all I needed to know about cooking just in case I would live alone. Looks like that won’t be the case anymore. I’ll have to use those skills for someone else now,” I replied allusively.
“Oh? Who might that be?” Clem raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward slightly, pretending to be ignorant. “Oh, just someone very special to me,” I answered. “You know what? Maybe I’ll find them here if I switch on my ability.” Making a show of scanning the cafe, I pivoted my head around as if searching for the person until I eventually ended up on Clem. Clem flickered for a moment. That’s weird. I know I liked Clem very much and her being the only colourful one did prove that, but why did my ability flicker? Was it getting buggy from overuse? The only other time I experienced this was… when I was looking at my mum a few days before she passed away. I grew worried.
I was broken out of my negative thoughts by the sound of Clem’s laughter. She was looking at me, the corners of her eyes pinched together in amusement, her hand loosely covering her mouth as small hiccups of laughter shook her body.
She’s irresistible, how’d I even get her? My slight frown turned into a wide smile; it was amazing what her laughter could do. I suppressed my fears, locking them up in the back of my brain. It probably wasn’t anything worth over-thinking and I’d rather enjoy the present. I didn’t want our date to be ruined just because of a malfunction.
It took a while for us to both calm down. Clem’s laughter slowly died down, and by the end of it, she almost looked sad. Now it was silent again, and the only thing that filled in the gap was the collective murmur of the others in the cafe.
“Hey, Yang?” Clem asked quietly. She suddenly sounded very tired. Surprised by the sudden change in mood, I studied her face. Her gaze was averted and she was biting on her lips, an action I knew very well. She always did this when she was coming clean about something, and no matter how much I knew I would hate whatever she would say…
“I have something to tell you.”
…I’ll just have to accept it.
I looked up at her. “Yeah?”
“You know the night when I said I was getting supper alone? After I had to interview Frank?” She seemed to be looking everywhere apart from me.
“What about it?”
“I went with Connor,” she whispered.
A sudden onset of nausea assaulted my guts and I felt like throwing up. I glared at Clem, confused as to why she would even consider going anywhere with him.
“Clem, you promised me you would distance yourself from him,” I spit, my teeth bared. Clem winced. I was taken aback a little, fearing that I was too forceful, but still pressed on: “So why, why would you go with him again when he was the one that cut your arm off?”
Clem’s face was pale and her hand that was on the table was trembling. I studied her and my eyes slowly made their way to her left arm, or what used to be there. Now, emptiness occupied the space, a lost memory and a painful past. She is a beautiful person, and it pained me whenever I thought about how I couldn’t save her from being vandalised by someone who was better off dead.
There was a deafening quiet.
“I didn’t want to go,” Clem started. She finally looked me in the eyes, her black irises twitched and swivelled slightly in their sockets, as if they were trying to tell me something. “He…” She sobbed, “He was the one that forced me to go.”
I grew even more confused, a dark grip inside my chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry, Yang. I’m sorry,” Clem started crying softly. “I really didn’t want to ruin our date so I was planning to keep quiet about it.”
“Clem,” I stretched both of my hands out across the table and held her hand in mine. The trembling slowly stopped. I opened her palm and massaged it with my thumbs. Returning her gaze, I tried to convey that she was safe with me. That I was always on her side. “Please tell me, what did he do to you?”
“He knows everything about me, we were once friends, after all,” Clem finally mustered enough strength to continue. “And even after I requested to switch to a new department, he followed me here. It hurts everytime I see him, but I can’t escape.”
“That day, he…” Clem’s body shook all over. “He…” Her eyebrows knitted together as the words died in her throat. I got out of my chair and went to her side, pulling her into an embrace, I let her cry. The seconds that ticked by with Clem in my arms only fueled my hate, animosity, anger and disdain to that scum of earth.
“Let’s go outside first,” she whispered hoarsely as her eyes darted around the cafe. Nodding quickly, I hurried to the counter to pay for our meal and returned. Clem was trembling in my arms as I supported her out of her chair; I had to steady her wobbling gait, holding her close as we exited the cafe slowly. The sky was almost completely black; the vestigial rays of atmospheric light that were still present were drowned out by the harsh mechanical glare of the streetlamps as we exited into the cold night.
The warmth and buzz of the cafe became muffled as the door shut behind us. We fell quiet again. As we walked, I belatedly realised that silence was so common in our date today, and it was only earlier when I had enjoyed the wordless moments between us. But now I had so many questions, so many things I wanted to confirm with Clem, so many things to tell her and assure her. What is “silence”, anyways? Its definition is so flexible. In some cases, it provided solace and tranquility. It was a time for us to reflect on our emotions and thoughts, to process the events that happened in the day and to collect ourselves. In some instances, however, it was deafening. What is “silence”, if not just our ears straining for anything to prove their existence? To escape the torture chamber that is our brains, we seek for external stimuli, hoping to take us away from from our thoughts — our torturers. Once it was comforting, but now… I just hoped we could talk about anything to fill the damned silence.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Clem-”
“Yang-”
“You go first,” I said.
We arrived at a wooden bench in a small clearing that was beside the carpark of the café. Clem sat down slowly, and she looked like she had recovered a bit of her composure. I hated that. I hated that she would always try to put up a strong front when I knew that all wasn’t well. Why couldn’t she at least pretend to be weak? Please let me do something for you.
“He approached me on Friday in the morning and told me I had to come, or else. At first, we were just talking about work and stuff and I tried to look alright even though I was disturbed by him being here. Why would he act as if nothing had happened? Why would he come to talk to me when I’ve been trying to avoid him?” Clem asked. I wasn’t able to answer. “He even followed me into the Aftermath department.”
“I kept the conversation going that night, hoping that there might be a chance for me to escape. But as I stood to leave, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into him. He was breathing really heavily and I think he was drunk. I was scared, Yang, I was scared.” Her eyes searched my bewildered face for understanding. She continued, “He then… brought me into the… he kept repeating it,” Clem’s hands were now buried in her hands as her voice came out strained and miserable, her whole body shaking from the heaving sobs that rippled through her. “He kept saying that I was the one that caused all of this while he touched me, that I was the reason Frank is in prison and Don is in a coma. He touched me all over. He…” She collapsed into my arms, bawling. “Please, Yang, I don’t know anymore. Am I the one, Yang? Am I the one that is the cause for everyone’s suffering?”
I didn’t know what to do or say. There was this rage building up inside of me, but I couldn’t help but feel that it was hopeless. Didn’t everything already happen when I wasn’t there? What’s the point of being angry? Ironically, the more I thought about the situation that way, the more I grew furious at my uselessness. I was a failure as a boyfriend. Do I even have the right to call myself that if I don’t somehow pay him back for what he did to Clem? But what mattered now wasn’t to sort out my feelings. I knew that I had to comfort Clem, but how? Wouldn’t she hate me for not being there to save her? To help her when she was being touched? I really wanted to ask how far he went, but I don’t want Clem to relive her trauma just to satisfy my selfish curiosity.
I sat beside her and pulled her head onto my shoulder, letting her lean on me. At first, she shivered at my touch — which deepened my resentment for that bastard — but she relaxed after a moment, reaching her right arm across me and tucking her left behind my back as she pulled me into a weak embrace.
“No, Clem. You aren’t,” my voice escaped my dry lips, a phantom of a whisper in the darkness.
I don’t know how long we sat like this, her crying into my chest and me patting her head softly. My chest burnt, the cold of the night permeating my shirt through Clem’s tears did little to quell the fire that burnt in my heart. A logical part of my brain knew that whatever I did would be useless: Clem had already been defiled. But I know for sure I’m not letting him go.
06 Connor
I closed the door to the interrogation cell behind me. Frank was sitting, his posture arrogant and relaxed as he hummed an old, familiar tune. It was (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YasRuLucsCo) Memento Mori, a song Don played all the time in the break room.. I was only able to catch an hour of sleep last night, my empty stomach kept bothering me but I couldn’t muster up any strength to get out of my bed to get food from my fridge. I should have taken some panadol in the morning.
“What’s bothering you, Connor?” Clementine’s small voice buzzed from the earpiece.
“Nothing, just a slight headache.”
I sat down and set my notes on the table. Greeted by Frank’s face, I sighed.
“Oh c’mon, am I not a sight for sore eyes?” Frank mused. Shaking my head, I tried to refocus on the task at hand, but the contents of the dream from yesterday kept bothering me. If Clementine had changed, wouldn’t Frank have changed too? Was I the only one that desired to remain like how we were in the past?
For the first time in a long time, I actually looked at Frank’s face. His crow’s feet had deepened and the wrinkles that once could only be seen when he was smiling had now become a permanent fixture on his old face. There was now more salt than pepper on his head and a wispy beard had replaced the neatly-trimmed moustache he sported when he was still a researcher.
“Quit staring at me like that, gives me the creeps,” Frank retreated into his chair exaggeratedly, his upper lip curled up in mock disgust. “What’s up with you today, man? You seem out of it. Oh, wait, sorry. I was insensitive,” he leant forward, his eyes furtively darting between me and Clementine (who was on the other side of the window) before he whispered like he was gossiping: “is it that time of the month for you?”
The corner of my right eye twitched in annoyance.
“Since you’re healthy enough to be making stupid jokes, I’ll assume you’re feeling well so we can skip the pleasantries and get right into today’s interview.”
“Bah, you always ask me the same questions, it's getting boring. Don’t you value my mental health? Imagine being stuck in a small room for all week long then the first human contact you make every seven days is with some moody man and all he talks about is the same thing every interview. You’re an old, cranky man, duuuuude,” Frank said derisively as he drew the last syllable. “Even crankier than I am, and I thought I was the senior here. At least try to make things fun, even if it’s embarrassing. Stop taking yourself so seriously, damn.”
Frank crossed his arms before he leaned back into his chair even further than I thought was even possible. Remember what Clem said, calm down. Calm down, Frank just likes to mess around. He was always like this, wasn’t he? Frank seemed to be happy in prison and Clementine was enjoying the benefits of her position. Don was in a coma and to be fair no mind is the answer to having peace of mind.
So was I the only one that wanted things to go back to how it was before?
DONT READ ON IF YOU DONT WANNA BE SPOILED AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
PLEASE ITS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Ok current plot > Yang will then get angry with connor then go pick a fight when connor comes out of interview with frank > connor will allow it and he thinks about how he deserves it for putting everyone in this mess > clem stops yang and brings connor back to his house > yang follows, curious as to what clem was doing > Clem tries to rape connor, but connor couldnt get hard and kicked her out > yang went home silently > clem cries then resolves to go back to yang, thinking he didnt know anything > when yang visits yang to cuddle for the night, yang says that she isn’t colourful anymore > it is then revealed that clem was the one that deluded everybody, including the readers to think that connor was a bitch. Sure he didn't reciprocate and was harsh but he was never a horrible guy. Clem just went insane that there was someone she couldn’t control and came up with a persona of Connor that wasn’t really him. > Connor goes to visit Don and cries beside his hospital bed > end
