Intention Man (title in progress)

Unhappy

Flashing lights echoed off into the dark air above the thousands of people gathered at the park. Their eyes reflected the colorful display and their faces, although downcast in mourning, showed awe at such a performance put on for the death of a mod center worker. This was only the beginning.

Lev sat ensconced between his stiff-shouldered parents in the bench at the very front before the stage. People were still filing in, looking for seats or standing spaces. The Mod Center had called a mandatory assembly for the night to celebrate Serafina. So anybody who was physically able to make it was required to come.

A hand landed on Lev's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. He jerked and looked behind him. Lucca was there, a sad smile making his wrinkles pull downward. Trista, next to him, had tears rolling down her cheeks. Just having them close made Lev feel more secure, but that was the extent of his feelings. The weights in his stomach had let up and now everything was empty. Just empty. Usually he was so full of everything that being the opposite should be unsettling, but he couldn't care less or more about any of it.

The lights dimmed for a moment and the crowd went silent except for a few sniffles. Perhaps Serafina was valued by more than just his family. That was nice, for her. Not that she could enjoy it now.

With a pop the stage lights went back on and Oliander appeared on the stage. Wild screaming sparked all around the octagon and people who had previously had their heads down were jumping to their feet and pumping their fists.

Oliander's face flickered a smile, but he quenched it and raised his hands to quiet the audience. "Today is a grievous day for Trealles." The audience began taking their seats once more and hanging their heads again. A sickening pinch started in Lev's stomach as he watched the falsity put on by his neighbors and peers and elders and Oliander. "Some of you may know, some of you may be unaware, but today marks the passing of a beloved mod center worker named Serafina Langford."

At this somebody began weeping. Lev felt motion to his right and he glanced to see his mother's shoulders shaking.

"So tonight we are gathered here to not only mourn Serafina, but to celebrate her legacy."

What legacy? Her HLC scores? The mods she added to other people? Surely it was better to mourn than celebrate. But perhaps she deserved celebration as well, although it seemed empty. What was the point if she was gone? But perhaps that was the point of celebration. Why mourn if she was gone? But why do anything if she was gone?

Another thing to add to the list.

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 Three days had passed since Serafina's passing and Lev hadn't eaten at all. Not at Lucca's and Trista's, not at any synth session. He was supposed to, yes, but the Keepers had given him a break from Higher Learning to give him proper space and time to mourn. This also meant nobody was coming by to make sure he was taking his synth.

His lights had been off all day and he hadn't moved from his bed. Sunlight did its waltz across his floor, moving with the day, and dust motes sparkled in the air. Lev stared at the ceiling, tracing the lines with his eyes, counting and recounting over and over and over again. He kept expecting the trapdoor to pop open and for Serafina's head to peek through. But no, that wasn't going to happen.

A squeezing began in Lev's heart and a wave of emotions fell upon his entirety. He began breathing so quickly and he couldn't calm himself as warm tears streamed down his face, already beginning to soak his shirt. He'd gone through two boxes of tissues. But this time he didn't move to wipe them away. He just let them fall and drip and wet his lips with salt. There was nothing he could do to take the pain away, so why bother to do so with the tears? It wouldn't help anything. They would just keep coming and he'd have to keep drying them and there was no use in trying to fix something that would forever be broken. Lucca wouldn't be able to teach him how to work with this sort of thing.