𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖒𝖔𝖐𝖊

II

Phantom slowly stirred to the bright sun peering into his dimly lit room. His eyes slowly fluttered open, and he blinked slowly a couple of times before managing to lean up onto his elbows.

Nothing was different in his room, it was still empty, with the same plain white walls, the same dark brown dresser, the same door to his closet, the same nightstand beside his bed, the same curtains, the same unopened boxes. The same everything.

He peered over at his phone laying on the nightstand, reaching over to tap the screen, seeing that the large text at the top read 8:10. His eyes widened in frenzy and panic. Practice was at 8:00. He was 10 minutes late!

He jumped out of bed, his legs nearly giving in on him as he rushed to his closet, swinging open the door and flicking on the light. Out of his few clothes, he chose a black 'Misfits' t-shirt, black jeans, a belt, Jack Skellington socks, and converse.

Once he was dressed, he left his room with the door half opened as he quickly made his way to the bathroom, brushing his hair and his teeth. He quickly ran down the stairs and to the rehearsal room, yet almost immediately had he gathered blank stares from the other ghouls because he nearly rammed himself into the wall while going into the rehearsal room.

"Ah!" Papa started, standing awkwardly along with the others. "There you are, Phantom. You're late.. again. That seems to be quite the, eh, habit you have." He spoke, receiving a guilty and embarrassed look from Phantom.

"I'm so sorry, Papa. I promise that this'll never happen again, I swear." Phantom replied, looking away awkwardly. He felt stares burning deep into his skin, stares from ghouls he doubted even liked him. He felt so wrong even standing here in this rehearsal room, wondering why Sister seemed to want him so much rather than Aether. Wondering why Aether isn't in this position and how the others would welcome him with open arms rather than stare at him blankly or even with faint traces of disdain or hatred. His brother was a much finer musician anyway, he didn't deserve to be replaced. So he couldn't help but wonder.. why.

After awkward silence that felt like it had lasted hours, Papa finally spoke, bringing Phantom from his daydreams and endless wants to know why. "Yes.. it is okay, Phantom, just– get your things together quickly please."

Phantom nodded, shuddering in discomfort at the silence that filled the air. He quickly grabbed the guitar and put it on. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. To let himself become one with the music.

{*}

2 hours later.

Practice came and went with mostly ease. Every ghoul was packing away their guitars and instruments as Papa announced when practice was tomorrow, and he couldn't help but feel like Papa was staring directly at him. His eyes burning through the fabric of his clothes and making large burn marks on the skin of his back. He also couldn't help but think that when Papa projected his voice and repeated the time, it was aimed at him. Which it probably was. He was the only ghoul that's been late almost everyday to practice for the week he's been here. Somebody would've thought that he had gotten the swing of things by now, but every maneuver and nook and cranny of this ministry was still slipping through his fingers like liquid.

Even the basic things he could barely keep a solid grip on, like dinner, or breakfast. He'd usually end up having to make his own or eating cold leftovers that didn't taste nearly as good simply warmed up in an air fryer or microwave. As he left the rehearsal room, he was given a quick tap to the shoulder. He turned around, it was Papa. Of course it was.

"Yes Papa?" Phantom spoke softly, yet still tried to seem more formal than awkward. "Phantom, I can't help but notice the amount of times you've been late." Papa started, his voice more weak and shaky rather than formal, he almost seemed scared. "I understand that this is probably much more different than your life before, but I really.. need you to adjust. I know it's difficult, adapting to something so unordinary, but it's been nearly everyday now and it's been a full week. Do you think you could maybe.. work on that?"

Phantom nodded quickly, yet he seemed to pick up on Papa's anxious and pathetic voice. It wasn't proper, or formal, it was weak and fearful. Nothing like how a leader should talk to his followers. How a Papa should talk to his ghouls.

Papa nodded and dismissed him, and Phantom nearly bolted out of that awkward moment, his mind reeling as he glided up the stairs to his room. He was paying no attention to his surroundings, staring at the ground, when suddenly he bumped into a larger figure. He looked up, seeing it was Swiss and how the multi ghouls golden eyes turned from widened with surprise to narrowed in hatred. Phantom backed up and dusted himself off, looking up nervously at Swiss.

"What?" Swiss snarled, his tail lashing from side to side, occasionally brushing against Phantom's leg. Swiftly, the door Swiss was standing in front of opened. Dewdrop's bedroom door. Those blood red eyes of the fire ghouls pierced right through Phantom's gray skin. A low growl erupted from Dewdrop's throat, it was one of pure hatred. Pure rage. Dewdrop was far from messing around.

Phantom felt like nothing but a small ant compared to these two ghouls, their eyes overfilling with disdain. He was practically weak, nothing but a puny little creature, and he was the most powerful out of all three of them. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic gasp. Tension was filling the air, seeping into his lungs and choking him internally.

Dewdrop was enraged, his breath coming out in huffs and growls, his claws unsheathed. His body language screamed hostility. Danger. Violence. And there was Phantom, looking up at them with those feeble purple eyes. What happened to him being the quintessence ghoul? Him being the most powerful ghoul and element, the protector? It was as if those rules had just been stomped down and thrown out the window. It had all meant nothing in the other ghouls' eyes, Phantom was nothing but a replacement in their perspectives, and it felt like that's all that it'd ever be.

Swiss noticed how pent up Dew was getting, pushing himself into the room. Dew yelped and growled and snarled, trying to claw his way through Swiss to Phantom. Before Dew managed to get by, he shut and locked the door. The tension slowly faded away, yet still kept Phantom in a tight chokehold. He rushed down the hall to his room, quickly barging into his room and shutting the door.

He sighed, kicking off his sneakers before walking up to his bed and flopping down onto it. Why was this all happening? To Aether? To him? To Dew? To all the others? He only felt like a burden, nothing but an obstacle. Why did Sister feel like this was a smart idea? He thought that maybe, rather than wondering why, he'd have to find out why.