Schizoid

:.Obey.:

Start the song in the media. It's Heathens by twenty one pilots (you had to know this was coming at some point, I mean seriously).

"Oh, honey," the woman sighs after talking in Tyler's bruised and scratched face. "What happened?"

'I happened', I think, standing at the door behind Tyler. Nothing will stand in my way anymore; I won't allow it. My first plan might be down in the books as a failure, but I still have one important tool: Tyler's trust. With it, I can still cause him more pain than anyone else.

"They were here, I swear, they were right here," Tyler whispers dazedly, not making eye contact.

"Tyler, start from the beginning. Tell me what happened."

"I... Well, I was in my room - my cell, I mean, and... that's when he told me-"

"He? Who is he? The boy that made you..." she trails off ignorantly.

"Yes," the boy answers.

"Okay. Maybe we should have a name for him, something to make it easier. How about we call him X or Blur or... let's call him Blurryface."

I scoff at the idiotic nickname.

"Alright," Tyler agrees, getting back into his story. "So, uh... Blurryface told me to leave my cell, so I did."

"How did you get out?" Jenna's tone reveals that she already knows. I smirk.

"I don't know; I can't remember."

"Tyler," Jenna sighs, sounding like a disappointed mother.

"Jenna," the mentioned says firmly. "I. Can't. Remember." The woman softens, nodding her head to allow Tyler to continue. "And so when I came out, there were lights... and music.... So I followed it, and they were there, I swear, Chris and Nick were right there, they were playing some song I had never heard before and-"

"Who are Chris and Nick?"

"We used to be a band. They were there one second, and then they just disappeared, just like," Tyler snapped his fingers, "that. Then the lights came down, and I could hear sirens and stuff, so I got really scared." I can hear Tyler's voice change as tears well up into his eyes. "So I just sat down, right there on the ground because I didn't want anybody to hurt me. Then all the guards came, and they all had guns. One of them hit me in the face, and then shoved me down on my stomach. But I didn't resist or anything."

"And that's what happened? That's what you remember?"

"Yeah, I... it wasn't real, was it?" Tyler asks, making eye contact with his lawyer for the first time all day. She shakes her head slowly, gently. "What really happened?"

Jenna rubs at her eyes, sighing out the deep breaths she inhale. "You told the guard that you needed to use the restroom; that the one in the cell wasn't working. He opened the door, you took his baton, and you hit him in the temple with it. No one really knows what happened after that: the cameras don't point in the direction that you went. But they heard you screaming, banging the baton on the walls and the floor. And... well, the rest is true. When the guards came in, you were sitting on the floor with the baton behind you."

Tyler's eyes went wide with disbelief. "I didn't... why do I keep hurting people?" he cries. "What is wrong with me? The guard, is he okay?"

"He's alive... but, Tyler, why do you do what Blurryface tells you to?"

"I wanted to see Chris and Nick, he told me they were out there. I wanted to hear them play a song," he replies innocently, his voice cracking. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous he sounds.

"That's not what I mean. I'm not talking about this isolated incident. In general, why do you obey him?"

The twenty four year old shakes his head. "I don't 'obey' him. He's my friend. We help each other out. I mean, there's really not much I can do for him, but he does what he can for me"

Jenna looks astounded. "How? How is any of this supposed to help you?"

"I don't know, but I trust him. I have to, and he'll make sure that everything turns out okay." I feel a pang of something at his words, but I don't know how to describe it. Regret? No, that can't be it.

"Oh, honey," Jenna sighs again. She says 'honey' and sighs a lot. It almost feels condescending, like she's trying to be Tyler's mother or something. I want to scream at her, punch her, beat her until she agrees to treat Tyler as an equal. Why am I so bothered by what's happening right now? Shouldn't I be in a state of nirvana with Tyler in such an emotionally vulnerable condition? I take a deep breath, willing my heart to harden.

"Is he here right now?" The blonde asks. "Can I talk to him?" Tyler looks around the room slowly until finally turning around, fixing his eyes on me and giving me a questioning look.. I stand next to him, waving my hand in front of Jenna's face. Her gaze shifts uncomfortably around the room, as if she can eventually train her eyes to see a ghost; a figment of a crazy boy's imagination. I grow indignant, wishing I had a real body so I could hit her. I pound my fists on the table suddenly and ask, "What do you want?" into her ear. Tyler flinches at the sound.

"Yes," he answers his attorney, "he'd love to talk to you." I roll my eyes.

"Okay," Jenna says, clearing her throat. "Why did you make Tyler leave his cell today?"

"I wanted Tyler to be able to see his friends again. Also, he loves music. I just wanted to help him. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," I lie.

The boy, completely convinced, relays my message to Jenna, who nods with fake understanding. "Why did you make him kill his family? That was to 'help him' too, right?"

"Yes," I reply, Tyler translating.

Jenna leans forward slowly, resting her elbows on the table with her hands clasped. "How?"

"I can't tell you," I answer. "I don't want Tyler to know exactly how I've helped him until it all plays out. It's like a surprise. Or at least as close to one as I can manage."

Tyler is grinning as he conveys my expressions to Jenna. She, however, is less amused. "Right," she deadpans. "But here's the issue, though: You're ruining his life." Tyler's smile falters. "If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be here. And you know that. It's really hard to profile you, but I'm just treating you like a normal person. You seem very smart. You have his trust, and for whatever reason, you're using that against him." I feel my throat constrict.

"No," Tyler objects. "That's not true. That can't be true, is it?" He looks up at me, his eyes wide and expectant with an undertone of uncertainty. For the first time, he's doubting me. And it's all her fault.

"You know that it's not. She's doing this on purpose, I told you that if anyone found out about me that they'd try to get between us."

"She's just trying to help me," he mumbles.

"No, I'm trying to help you," I say, my voice raising. "She's just trying to get into your head!"

"You are the only thing in my head," the boy replies quietly, "and I'm starting to think that's not such a good thing." He turns to Jenna, leaving me standing beside him in utter shock. In a matter of days, this woman came in and destroyed my six years of hard work; rewired my perfect machine.

"What happened?" she asks, unaware of what our conversation fully entailed.

Tyler only shakes his head. "I want you to help me get rid of him."

"No," I say, dumbfounded. "No. Hey, you don't mean that, Tyler. Tell her you don't mean that."

"Please," he begs his attorney, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I talked to a friend today that can help you, okay? After we win this case, and we will win, he's going to work with you. Just hang in there." Jenna puts her hand over Tyler's. "Just hang in there."

And the plot thickens. p.s. I'm not sure if we're still on the run over the whole Heathens fiasco, but if we are, then I am a middle aged man named Ricardo as far as the local authorities are concerned and I have no idea about this 'Heathers' song you speak of.