Hey Sunshine

Two Out of Ten, Would Not Recommend

IN WYLAN'S LIFE, he had generally accepted that letters sent through mailboxes were probably not a good thing. If not only because he was dyslexic, and anybody who ignored that fact tended to be of the asshole variety.

Seriously, it could take a good thirty minutes to read two hundred words, and sometimes that made Wylan only want to translate the name of the sender and then go to aforementioned sender and punch them in their forgetful face, all without reading the rest of the letter.

He was pretty confident when he told the gang though, that no, despite the assholes who sent him personal letters throughout the years (sadly, this list mainly included his father, an ex-friend, and who was supposed to be an ex-friend's dog when he ignored the first letter sent by the previously mentioned ex-friend), nobody had been quite asshole-y enough to handwrite a threat letter.

This was new, and if Wylan was being honest, he was terrified.

"Do you know anybody that would do this?" Matthias asked as he paced the room frustratedly. Wylan shrugged, gnawing on his lip.

"My professor, Professor Rollins, made a kind of strange threat-ish thing today," he told them hesitantly. "Inej was there."

Inej nodded from her perfect perch on the windowsill, despite it only being about five inches thick. "Professor Rollins said something strange, referencing his father and his apartment," she explained. "There's no way he could have been casually mentioning it - he looked like he knew what he was talking about, and the apartment mention was incredibly direct. He also included Wylan's dad though..." she frowned, thinking about it. "Though that might only have been because he wanted to fit in the reference to his apartment being trashed."

Jesper slung an arm around Wylan's shoulder, drawing him into the taller boy. "Are you okay, sunshine?" he murmured concernedly. "I know this has been terrifying, and it's been so soon that you had to deal with your trashed apartment."

Wylan shrugged, leaning into Jesper's heat. "It's been rough," he told the other boy honestly. "I mean, I tried putting my apartment out of my mind and for a while it worked but this threat letter is terrifying. I mean, it scares the crap out of me Jes."

Jesper brushed soft kisses down his hairline and gratefully Wylan curled up by him even more.

"Well, on the bright side," Nina said from the armchair. "At least - I'm sorry I have to address this but Matthias stop pacing. You're stressing me out, imagine what you're doing to poor Wylan. Sit down," she pet the altogether too small space next to her and ignored Matthias' glower. "Anyway, Wylan, honey, this was a terrible threat letter. By far the worst I've ever seen. Two out of ten, would not recommend."

Wylan made a snorting sound of amusement, while Kaz let out a sigh of exasperation.

"All of you are ignoring the bigger problem though," Kaz said seriously, twisting his long cane between his hands. "We can, reasonably suspect Pekka Rollins to be apart of this situation, and the Amsterdam mafia officially confirmed that they don't recognize the kind of trashing done to Wylan's apartment. Rollins has a distinctive way of doing things, and he's been in crime for a long time. That means he's working with somebody. Who is he working with? Well, we can assume from the fact that Pekka Rollins adores his son, and mentioned your father in his threat that he's jealous that his son was a catastrophic failure rather than you. Therefore, he's planning on killing you to make up for the number of times you've shown up his son. His son's name is Ferdinerd the Thirty-second - I'm told it's a family name from when 'nerd' was not a term. Let's make our plans from there."

"How did he get all the way there?" Wylan whispered to Jesper, who simply shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe he's being dramatic."