Pisanthraphobia (H2OVanoss and Others)

Chapter 17

Bryce had a mission, a task. It was ingrained into his mind like the need to breathe, to blink, and it pulled as his other thoughts were overridden.

Not that he had any other thoughts to begin with, but something had overridden his work mind space and wormed itself into his very being.

He had left his job several hours ago, and had spent some of that time standing just inside his apartment door, his thoughts blank. After several long moments he had moved, dressing himself in a white suit, mirrored sunglasses, and gloves.

Just before he set out again, he instinctually grabbed something metal from a box, two bars forming a 90 degree angle that seemed familiar, and tucked it into his suit jacket.

No one looked at him as he left, and he felt invisible, like before. He didn't take note of the change.

He drove far, going for hours without rest or thoughts of safety, and pulled into the parking lot of a bar with some nondescript name and tacky biker decorations.

A few stray eyes glanced at him, looking him up and down as he entered, before turning back to their previous business. He went to the bartender and slid onto a stool.

Taking out his wallet, he flashed a card that he was unaware of owning, and immediately a drink was being made. After a minute a Sex on the Beach was slid in front of him, an odd blueish-green colour.

He took it and slipped it slowly, mechanically, and listened to the soft bass of the music. He watched an almost naked man in a panda hat swing around, pretending to know how to use the pole in the center of the room.

He stayed for hours, watching the crowd and taking sips of his drink, but suddenly he knew it was time. As he left, a man sitting at the bar saw his untouched drink and grabbed it when no one was looking.

Bryce straightened his gloves and took a long walk over to a cafe, where a waitress was just unlocking the door. She saw him and smiled, an old smile on a young face, and swung the door wide.

He was brought to a specific table, really more of a booth but just as hard as any wooden chair. It was there that he sat, for hours once again, and waited.

Despite the other tables being filled and constantly in motion, not a single person looked his way. He was content to barely move and let his mind go blank, and the time passed like hyper speed.

Eventually, he suddenly became aware again as voices sounded behind him, in the booth his back faced. Somewhere deep inside his mind he recognized the voices, and something inside him stirred.

Instincts he had no reason for pushed it down, and he remained focused on his task. After a while of listening, two more voices joined. And then a third.

A warm, ever-consuming light flooded him, and the blankness his mind had come to accept was replaced by a wave of accomplishment, of satisfaction. If he tried, he could remember every word of what he had heard from the other table, but none of it held significance.

When the waitress came to that other table, he slipped away, no voices calling after him. He decided to go home, and as he sat on his couch it felt right. Something was right.

His laptop sat next to him, and he sent a single email. It was long, and took minutes to type and send, but it felt right. Afterwards he slinked off to his bedroom, changing out of the suit and the gloves, and returning the metal.

He put it all in his closet and shut the door, knocking the wood once, and opening it again. Looking through, he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a grey hoodie, a gift from his amazing friend.

He lay on his back in his bed, the mattress sinking beneath his weight and comforting him with memory foam. His breath evened out, and he felt so, so right.

And then, he went blank.