[ Flipside - A DSaF Fanfic ]

[ Chapter 12 | Who am I? ]

     Scott sat on his boss's office chair, clicking a pen over and over again as he attempted to regain focus. He should have felt relieved, as he managed to remove any lingering files about who he...no, who Harry was. His brain still told him he was Harry, which was annoying. 

    "Just a fantasy...nothing more." He said out loud, flipping his pen. 

    But, there was a feeling inside of him, a creeping, eerie feeling, that made him second guess if the Harry file was truly gone. Harry- No, Scott had a wall around him of files and paperwork. F̶u̶c̶k̶ Heck, his brain was still calling him Harry. 

     I never was, and never will be Harry.  He told himself. Now gripping his pen tightly in his hand, a red-hot annoyance growing inside of him. Scott slowed his breathing, trying to control his anger. He leaned in his chair to peek through the window, which was hard to see with all the piles of paperwork. The ember-like glow of the rising sun shined through the window.

     It had been a few days since Mr. Kennedy had shown up last, which made his already stressful workload double. And, to add onto that, he was worried for him. He clicked his pen more rapidly as he thought. Jack clearly had known whatever the h̶e̶l̶l̶ heck that thing behind the dumpsters was. Maybe it was a cryptid Jack had trifled with in the pass, and it was seeking his blood, or maybe it was an angry ex. What if it had killed him? From what Scott was aware, Jack was a corpse, but who knows? Maybe he could double die. Scott punched himself in the arm. He shouldn't be thinking of such fantastical things, he had work after all. 

     Pulling a paper from a stack to sign, he accidentally pushed the rest of the papers. The pile flopped to the floor, scattering all over. He almost-cursed under his breath, calmly putting his pen onto his desk. The papers were hard not to step on, Har- Scott feeling like a child playing hopscotch. Childish. He shouldn't be so childish.

    As he scrambled to re-pile the unfinished paperwork, and sort some loose papers into their respective files, he heard a knock on the door. His heart leaped, remembering the last time he had been in the office and heard a knock. Plus, he was still worried about the police that had started to come and go around the restaurant, as they investigated the building. If this place got shut down, he'd be scra-

    The door flung open, causing some of the fallen papers to be blown away, twisting in the air. Scott jolted up, meeting eyes(?) with the man who stood in the doorway, a folder he was carrying by his side. Mr. Kennedy.  Scott stared and let out a sigh of relief. Jack wasn't dead. Now that he was here, maybe he could help with the massive workload. No, he shouldn't care about work right now. He needed to make sure Jack was okay.

    "Morning, Mr. Kennedy." He waved, curtly.

     "Heya, Scott!" Kennedy grinned from ear to ear, showing off his two missing front teeth. The orange man seemed to have bruises flickered everywhere. Scott eyed him, concerned.

    He stepped closer to his boss, studying the bruises on his arm. Someone one probably beat him up, with how scattered they were. "Are you okay, Jack?" 

    Mr. Kennedy pulled his arm away from Scott. "Yeah, yeah..." He waved him off, his eyes narrowing with mild irritation. Jack's black and white eyes drifted to the papers that littered the floor. Harry- F̶u̶c̶k̶ Heck no, Scott. Why do you keep on messing this up brain?! You're such an idiot! Scott stepped in front of the papers in a poor attempt to hide them. Jack tilted his head to the side, to get a better look at them. 

    "Damn, you have a lotta papers. You need help with signing 'em at all, Scott? I could also help with putting those in a pile, too..." He gestured to the fallen papers.