𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟏𝟏

𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
NOVEMBER 2ND, 1984

Scarlette had woken up with a weight in her chest, one that pressed down on her like a heavy blanket she couldn't shake off. The thought of going to school felt impossible, like it required energy she just didn't have. So she did what she hadn't done in a long time: she begged her parents to let her stay home. At first, they were adamantly against it—Steve had even sided with them initially, saying the school year had barely started and missing a day wouldn't help. But after some persistent nudging and maybe a well-timed favor, Steve convinced them otherwise.

The victory of staying home wasn't as sweet as Scarlette imagined it would be. She spent the morning buried under her blankets, listening to music as the world outside moved on without her. The hours seemed to stretch and blend together, as if time itself had slowed to match her lethargic mood. It wasn't until around one o'clock that she finally dragged herself out of bed, feeling grimy and tired in a way that sleep couldn't fix.

She forced herself to shower, letting the hot water run over her face in an attempt to shake off the fog that clung to her. She scrubbed her scalp, brushed her teeth, and even changed into a fresh pair of pajamas—this time an old pair of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pants and a black tank top. Still, the exhaustion lingered. She didn't want to face the day, didn't want to do anything but lay there, wrapped in the comfort of music and stillness.

Hours passed in a haze, and before she knew it, the sound of the school bell was replaced by the familiar quiet of her empty house. Steve was still at basketball practice, so when a sudden knock came at the door, Scarlette frowned, her head still resting on her pillow. Who could possibly be here right now? The thought of getting up and answering the door felt like too much effort.

But the knocking persisted, more insistent now, and she let out a groan of annoyance, pushing herself off the bed. She adjusted her pajama pants, tugging at the waistband, and slid her feet into a pair of worn slippers before padding downstairs. She wasn't in any rush to answer.

When she finally opened the door, her mood darkened instantly. Mike. Of course it was him. Her fingers tightened on the doorknob as she prepared to slam it shut again, but his hand shot out, stopping her before she could.

"Wait! Hey—hey, it's a code red!" Mike said quickly, his voice a mix of urgency and desperation. He was used to her shutting him out, but this was different. "You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."

Scarlette sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly. A code red? Fine. She pulled the door open a little wider, crossing her arms over her chest as she took in his expression. Mike's eyes darted down, taking in her outfit, and he raised an eyebrow.