FACELESS

Chapter Two

A year earlier, Ynk is all smiles and laughter, surrounded by friends and family on his twelfth birthday. They all sit in the bland, colorless living room, eating cake and messing with balloons (still, no color; not that Ynk cares. Colorful decorations only lead to trouble, as far as he knows). There were only a few, though, as too many would cause for alarm.

Each person stares at him with blank, uncaring masks, talking to him in smooth, level tones that do just enough to tell him how important this day is, but not enough for him to puff up with pride.

"Congratulations," his mother says, sitting across from him. She hasn't even bothered to take a bite of her cake, having stared at the ceiling for a good ten minutes to try and excuse herself from the situation at hand. Probably just worried about a mess, Ynk thinks. "I hope today's been...enjoyable." She searches for the word before it comes to her, sounding foreign and awkward. She hasn't felt such a thing in so long, she barely remembers how to say it.

Ynk nods, words muffled as he talks with his mouth full. "Mmhm—Ve'y!"

"You must be excited," his father pipes up, leaning forward. "After all, today's the most important day of your life."

Maia, his best friend, elbows his side, dressed in something semi-formal compared to her usual tank top and shorts. She's the only one, besides Kurt, who showed up to his party. "Yeah," she snorts, "because bein' one year older is just amazing."

She giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. The adults in the room eye her curiously, turning to Ynk for help.

Ynk's face flushes pink, and he elbows her back. "I-It's really important," he blurts. "B-Being twelve, I mean. It's when you get a job, an' stuff."

Maia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, and when you get this pretty little mask thing that goes ding—" She flails her arms, as if demonstrating, "—and magically lights up."

Kurt, who sits on Ynk's right, leans closer. "She's just jealous because you're the first of us to get a Face."

"Hey, I am not!" Maia huffs, crossing her arms. "I'm just sayin', it's not that big of a deal."

"Quite the contrary," Ynk's mother interrupts, pushing her plate away. She clasps her hands together, addressing the girl in front of her. Though stoic, Ynk notices the slight tension in her shoulders, how she sets her jaw. His mother is serious. "Reaching the age of maturity is very important. It proves to the Order that you're ready to become an adult—and not only that, but that you're able to help the community."

"Plus, you get to work," Ynk's father chuckles. "Not fun, but it pays the bills."

"Nothing's fun, Dad," his brother, Ralph, says. "Don't confuse 'im. Stuff like that goes out the window when you get your Face."

"Right, right." Ynk's father nods, before turning in Ynk's direction. Ynk can't tell, due to the mask his father wears, but he likes to think he's smiling. "Speaking of..."

His father reaches behind him, and Ynk feels his heart races. They got me a gift! He realizes. That hasn't happened in years...

But, as it turns out, it's not a gift—not from his parents, anyway. He knows this immediately just by how the box is wrapped—or, rather, how it's not wrapped.

"Here you are," his father says, handing him a regular old box, as plain as can be.

Ynk moves his plate to the side before holding the present, unable to hide the way his smile widens. He grunts as he takes it, dropping it on his legs. The box is small, though it's definitely got some weight to it, the boy wincing when it adds pressure to his knees. He wonders if the amount of tape on its surface is behind its heaviness, as he already has a suspicion as to what's inside.