Brave Fear (boyxboy)

Chapter 7

Zane hated that his prison cell was so delightful.

He hadn't noticed before, but the floors had lush burgundy carpet laid over it that was pleasant to the touch. In some places, it was punctured with horse hoof marks, evidence of Marcus's passing by. The carpet extended into all rooms but the restroom, which was all cream tiled, smooth, and chilly on the bare feet.

Right now, Zane sat in the room they had designated for him, the closest one to the door. His toes were curling into the carpet as he sat on the edge of the bed. Unlike the first holding cell he was in, this one had pleasant smelling bed sheets to match the carpet. They were made of a satin material which Zane had slipped off of many times during the night before. A fluffed pillow laid near the headboard as well as a nightstand with a lamp. The walls still bore resemblance to the first cell because they were chromic steel. That, however, was the only resemblance.

He stretched his arms over his head, hands linked. A punctuated yawn pierced the eerie silence and he stood up.

Having found the night before that they had stocked a wardrobe with clothes his size, he had gladly taken a shower and changed out of his ten day-old clothes. He could almost feel his body sloughing as he was taking the shower, so he had cut it short, not hoping to relive that feeling.

He was dressed now in simply a pair of shorts. He stepped over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. Upon opening it the night before, he had not seen any traditional gray suits, but he was hoping somehow there would be some this morning. He had no such luck. He knew he had no logical reason to keep wearing the gray suit and blue tie, but it had been almost second nature since he turned thirteen. It was just another impact of his life in New Vancouver that he couldn't manage to shake off.

There were a variety of clothing options to choose from. He saw outfits similar to Marcus's, and he also saw khakis and chinos and some cargo shorts. Sleeveless shirts were an option Zane was open to considering, but the option of Hawaiian shirts was also appealing. However, he felt it too early to change into clothes. Besides, he now had no visible commitment except for Wawrzynski's honing, whatever that meant. He closed the wardrobe decisively, considered putting at least a shirt on, but then decided he was too lazy to open it back up.

He walked into the common area. He moved stiffly and his hips hurt from sliding off the bed sheet and hitting the floor. It may be carpet, but there was steel underneath it.

Daisy was already up. She was rubbing her eyes and lounged across one of the sofas in the center of the room. Without looking up, she said, "Morning," He glanced behind him, making sure she was talking to him and not someone else.

Zane grunted in response and shuffled over to the kitchen. Or what passed as a kitchen.

One more magnificent discovery he had made; no more crappy prison food. Wawrzynski was clearly hoping to coerce them to play along with his wicked plans, because he played to every teenager's cuisine wants. There were potato chips and soda in a corner cupboard, and noodle cups lined on the counter. Bagels were stored in the fridge next to an insane amount of cream cheese icing. There was hardly any healthy food, but Zane was okay with that. Besides, if he ate beef, he would probably just picture Marcus as a cow and then throw the beef away. The thought entertained him and he chuckled.

He slathered a bagel with about an inch of cream cheese, grinned to himself, and strode over to where Daisy was lounging. "You know what this place needs?" she asked, and only then did Zane realize there was a family-size box of Froot Loops next to her and her arms were elbow-deep in it. "A home theater." He crossed his arms, preparing to point out that she was one person consuming a family-size portion of Froot Loops.