most likely goodies ; an update book

fillers

"Hey, Seto?" Brice beckons me over towards the balcony. His frame is leaning against the railing while his eyes linger down onto the road below. He can sense me, standing there at the door, leaning against the glass frame.

"Yeah?" I ask, shuffling to his side.

He takes a deep breath, hesitation actually, then speaks, "I'm stuck in love with you and there's no way out."

And then, I woke up. There's anticipation lingering throughout my body; thoughts scattered into an empty abyss that was called the mind—my mind. A blanket was messily tossed over my skinny frame and a pillow propped beneath my neck. A damp cloth fell from my forehead as a sat up.

My eyes stayed blurred, groggy from being so abruptly waken from a dream—a realistic one at that. Piecing together the room around me as best I could, it felt as if I was mixing the wrong parts. Acknowledging that this wasn't my bedroom took longer than I could anticipate because mainly I'm on top of things. Being dim-witted isn't my forte, but today, reality felt slower. I couldn't process anything hastily enough.

Then, I heard a voice: "Seto, you're finally awake!"

He's cheery, one that I could east recognize. There, the blurry figure walks up to me, squatting down to reach my height. I'm on a leather couch, an old and small one at that, on a moving bus. I began to felt the motion sickness that I fall subject to every time I'm not driving a car. "You've been out for quite a while. I'm guessing your fever hasn't died down yet."

He places a his hand on my forehead and I quiver; it's frigid. I squint, trying to make sense of the blotches that appeared to be his face. To which, I finally recognize the outline of his pale jaw, the coloring of his apple red eyes, and the shagginess of his oak brown hair.

No, this can't be possible.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," the man I conclude to be Ty profoundly chuckles.

I say nothing as I gaze down to my hands. My vision is returning, so I blink. Reality check: I pinch the exposed sliver of pale skin on my arm—to the point where I could feel the surface turning visibly red. Ty slaps my hand away; another sting. You can feel pain in dreams, right?

"Dude, are you feeling alright?" He asks, voice small. There's a comforting concern in his tone, one that I haven't heard of in years.

"What year is it?" I question.

He furrows his eyebrows, a look of shock plastered on his face. There's an exasperation in his tone, "Are you really that sick? It's 2012! We're going to a competition soon, you gotta get ahold of yourself."

That's when the church bells chimed in my memory. No, there's no possible way it could be 2012. Just a couple minutes ago, I was celebrating New Years with Brice in his crummy apartment—not that I'm complaining about the uncleanliness. I gaze down at my arm again and pinch it with my fingernails, this time drawing blood. Ty freezes like a deer in headlights, then slaps my hand away. Another sting, another reminder that this is reality.

"What's wrong with you!" It's not a question, more of a horrific statement that's flooding out of his mouth. "Are you really that out of it?"

I don't choose to respond.

I lay back down and shut my eyes again, squeezing them actually, so tight that no one could pry them open. No, it can't be 2012. I'm an adult; not a stupid sixteen year old that's blindly following a bunch of older men into a competition. Unfortunately, when I'm opening my eyes, I see Ty staring back at me. He's the same as I've always remembered him—a stupid seventeen year old with the worst "2007 fringe".

"Are Adam and Jason here?" I murmur, scared to ask about their whereabouts.

"Of course," Ty shakes his head. "You want me to go get Jason?"

"No, it's okay—" he's heading away and behind a curtain, presumably where Jason is. I frown, rubbing my temples trying to make sense of what's going on around me.

Team Crafted—one year from now I'd be kicked out due to some stupid reason. We're all going to grow up and move on from this group, it's inevitable. Both Adam and Ty are going to have kids—I can't imagine those two becoming adults. Yet, I already know what's going to happen in the future. Everything's been set and stone, but yet, why am I here?

I recall the competition as best I could. Team Crafted entered into some kind of battling competition—last team standing would win a prize. There would be injuries, multiple actually, and Jason would nearly lose his sight in the process. I'd mess up, it would be with some kind of spell, and nearly blow up the whole arena in the process.

"He's burning up!" Jason exclaims, interrupting my thought. I feel his cool hand pressed up against my forehead. "We need to get medicine or something, hell maybe even a doctor. Go tell Adam to pull over at the nearest hospital."

"But what about the—"

"I could give less than two shits about the competition!" Ty scurries off.

I don't remember getting this sick. There's a twisting feeling in my stomach as I take slow breaths. Without going to that competition, we wouldn't meet the others—it would just be the four of us. This would deeply affect the future.

I sit up, relentlessly, "I'm fine. I can still fight." I manage not to slur or splutter on my own words.

"You're not fine," Jason insists, laying me back down. "Fuck that competition, I could care less."

"But without it—"

"Whatever your stupid excuse is, I don't care. Your life matters more to me than some trophy," Jason rolls his eyes, the familiar blue orbs I've grown accustomed to. I forgot how nice it felt to have someone look after you.

"Thanks, Jason," I mutter, pretending to seep back into my dreams. There's too much to worry about, truly going back in time is some kind of mistake on my part. I'm an experienced Sorcerer, in the future that is, how could I accidentally send myself into the past? Scratch that, I don't even know how to time travel in the first place.

What the hell is going on?