#fryreslegacy5

[vintageplumbobs]

Ridley: Deep breath. You can do this. 

[vintageplumbobs]

Orwell’s phone buzzed, a notification from Simbook. 

Ariel: Hey, a few of us are going to do some painting and art shit on the beach later. You should come. If you want. x

Ariel Kilgrove? They were pretty cool. They had blue hair and nice pencils and...friends.

But...but why would they want to hang out with him? It had to be a trick. Orwell’s fingers hovered over the keys. He closed the app and threw his phone away, where it slid down the side of his bed. 

Orwell: Shit. 

He stretched for it, and opened the message. Ariel would know that he’d seen it, he couldn’t just leave it there. That would be worse than any reply. 

Orwell: Thanks. Sounds fun but am really busy. Maybe next time?

Please... He thought. Let there be a next time.

[vintageplumbobs]

Orwell watched his classmates as they filed on to the bus. Chatting, laughing. He had felt invisible before, but today was the worst it had been. It was as though he were completely transparent.

[vintageplumbobs]

Ridley: I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you being out after school.

Orwell: But, Dad-

Ridley: It’s not safe, Orwell. You...you need to understand, this world...it’s cruel. These kids...you don’t even know them by the sounds of it. I don’t want you risking anything for them. Do you understand me? You’re not going. 

Orwell: That’s so unfair.

Ridley: Fine, then I’ll be unfair. But at least you’ll be safe. 

[vintageplumbobs]

Detention again. Orwell slung his bag down on his bed and grabbed his paintbrushes. 

Screw Algebra. Screw Mr. Peterson. Screw the whole damn school. 

The paint slapped the canvas, and Orwell was transported far away from everything. 

[vintageplumbobs]

Orwell: Hey...so...some people at school are getting coffee later. Would it be alright if I went? 

Ridley: Who?

Orwell: Just some friends. Ariel and some people.

Ridley: You don’t know, do you? 

Orwell: It’ll be fine, Dad. They’re nice. 

[vintageplumbobs]

Orwell: Runnnn Cyber-Dog! 

[vintageplumbobs]

Ridley: Those kids...they don’t care about you, Orwell.

Orwell: You don’t know that.

Ridley: I saw you...and I heard them after you left...

Orwell: Stop it. 

Ridley: Putting yourself at risk for people who mock you when your back is turned. Exposing yourself to the world...anyone could’ve seen you.

Orwell: They didn’t. 

Ridley: How do you know? How could you possibly know?!

Orwell: ...I...

Ridley: Pack your things.

Orwell: Dad, no-

Ridley: Pack. Your. Things. Now.