Chapter eight : Candor or Ordascious undertakings

They arrived at their supposed destination; the middle of nowhere. Nick turned off the main road into a narrow dirt road pathway up a steep hill, surrounded by nothing except forestry. The light of the sun became dim until it dulled in such a way that made the surrounding area feel as if trapped in timelessness; as if it were all enveloped in an invisible or glass bottle, leaving the sunlight to feel artificial as it's dim twinkling light added a gloss and glow to whatever it touched. Rowland looked up through his widow and glared at the ever-green aesthetic appeal as they drove by; he got lost in the scene as if he was wandering the woods by foot along side the car and all of this reminded him of the camera he had left at home. He felt cozy and warm in the woods surrounded by what was left of summer, until;

"We're here! ", Nick announced, grabbing Rowland's attention as they stopped at a derelict house that looked like it belonged to Death.

"What is this place?", he asked getting out of the car and staring up at the one story house that seemed to tower above him with grief and shadow.

Nick walked up to the house and took a look through the window; "It's our destination.", he beckoned Rowland over;

"Check this out. "

Rowland inched closer until he reached the dusty, cracked window; he looked inside and noticed figures sitting haphazardly, scattered throughout the room from what he could see. When Rowland turned away, Nick was nowhere to be found so he moved towards the back door for the front was boarded off.

"Yo! ", he heard as he turned the corner, finding Nick looking for a way to open the door. Rowland took a pin from his jacket and bent it, stuffing it into the door lock attempting to jimmy it; it was successful and in doing so earned a pat on his shoulder from his company.

The lintel sagged and made the door hard to open but once done they both stood there scoping the shack from the door frame.

"How did you find this place?", Rowland asked, covering his mouth and nose as an odd smell came from the room which smelt of raw gelatine, burnt hair, dust and chemicals with something...metallic and rusting.

"I just stumbled upon it one day.", Nick answered upon entering the dingy room; panels creaked under his weight as he waltzed in; "Yikes this place is ripe.", he joked as Rowland decided to go inside and join him; the house felt warm despite the fact that it was falling apart and the rays of the sun illuminated the figures Rowland was so eager to see.

"Whoa, are those real..?", Rowland asked trying to inspect each skeleton as the whole house awoke with the echoes of his footsteps bouncing off the walls.

'Holy Fucking shit, these are real!' he thought with a morbid excitement or intrigue the same way kids do when they find a dead animal and poke it with a stick.

Nick took a dried up half bloomed rose and gently placed it in his hair by his ear as he put away his glasses and casually moved towards a table filled with small tools and needles next to two closed doors that sat beside each other, his face was covered with his puffy maroon turtle neck sleeve.

Rowland wouldn't admit it, but was a bit put off by the place; though being accompanied gave him the freedom to explore without the need to watch his own back as paranoia would set in. This made him feel a bit spooked to think of the possible person who would do anything like this.

A morbid smell, familiar to Rowland, wafted through the now open door.

It was similar to times of funerals, which were always somber and yet sacred times. As for him, most of the funerals were always mostly traditional and always for someone close to him. Where an animal; such as a Cow or a sheep would be sacrificed for prayers and blessings for the family of the deceased, followed by tea and coffee, among many other practices.

The strange smell of hair, and bowels being cleansed once they cut the creature open after being carefully skinned, and then the sudden memory of the funny way the skinned muscular limbs would twitch, even after they had been chopped off popped into his mind. But Rowland tried to ignore the stench most of all, which reminded him of death, he figured there was an animal in here some time ago, which probably died in some far off corner somewhere.

To him it was a beautiful house of "fake ghosts" that some weird dude playing Death, seemed to have forgotten and left these poor "fake" souls behind to wither. He kept repeating that word in his head, Rowland took out his phone and immediately started taking pictures.

"Hey.", he started; "Remember what you said in the car...?"

"Yeah... ", Nick answered, gazing at a collection of flowers dried and pressed in an old light skinned leathery hardcover book.

"What happens if the message you give to the people...What if they abuse the power you give them.", he stopped taking photos and straightened himself from his crouching position;

" What if they use it against each other or misinterpreted it, like...Then what?", he looked at Nick; who was still looking through the book when he answered; "That would be the most typical outcome because... Erm, humans...", Nick joked; "But in all seriousness I really don't care, they can do what they want with it...And if it leads to their demise it was their own choices that lead to that... I won't be some idiots' Atlas.", he looked up at Rowland; who did the gesture of tilting his head in acknowledgement to the logic.

"Okay, but what if nobody else agrees with you? What if people think you're just full of shit?", Rowland then asked.

"Welp, if they call me a horse...", Nick shrugged his shoulders.

"What, what do you mean?", Rowland asked shifting his weight to his right, Nick stood up straight still holding the book; "Oh, well there's this saying; 'if someone calls me a horse, I'll be insulted ;if someone does it for the second time, I punch them...;if someone does it a third time, then maybe it's time to get a saddle...", Rowland thought for a while before huffing a laughter in response to the joke; "Like a reverse 'fool me once, shame on you'. "

"Hey yeah, I never thought of it that way, yeah.", Nick laughed and continued; "...And well, no one has called me one just yet.", He smiled.

Rowland didn't really know what to make of his answers, as Nick voiced his say with fluency and rhyme as if poetry; as if it were all a straight arrow.

But it was not as if he was reading all of this off some milk carton or some tweet, no. But it wasn't anything anyone wouldn't say nowadays, so Rowland wasn't completely convinced that he was a real person.

"Is this place even safe? Like, we don't know if someone or something still lives here. ", Rowland asked still taking pictures and inspecting the now fourteen white zombies that seemed to somehow stare. Rowland ignored the feeling.

"Why something?", Nick laughed.

"I don't know...What kind of person would do something like this. I mean... It's pretty creepy.", Rowland chuckled over his morbid curiosity and over the thought of what type of person would find the time, energy or resources to create something so beautiful and yet so secretive. He kept asking himself if they were real or not but truly, he didn't want to know.

Nick appeared smug in is stance as he clasped one hand on the book, while the other rest in his back pocket;

"Most monsters are human...", he answered softly; " I think we both know that."

"Yeah but...", Rowland said, really in thought; "I don't think humans are monsters, I think we're just...Babies with bazookas, what with all the power we have and the shit we're doing with it. "

Nick looked at him and farrowed his eyebrows as if he said something admirable; "Either way, same miserable outcome.", he said it as a matter of fact.

He then decided to place the book on his head and balanced it as he continued;

" Besides, I've been watching this place for a while and I don't think that whoever or 'whatever'...", he emphasised as the book dropped into his ready hands; "...That was here is coming back anytime soon.", he stated as a matter of fact, swinging the mystery door wide open wafting a new kind of stench into the room they both stood in. Holding his nose; Nick scanned the egg white tiled bathroom; "Y'know, that kinda reminds me of something someone told me... ", his voice echoed as his back faced Rowland who was listening; "People are born of hatred and violence...They're only taught kindness.", he said, spotting nothing more than a rusty bathtub; a cabinet possibly filled with chemicals (judging by the pungent smell) and a sink, the toilet was missing in action; replaced by blood stained plastics that seemed to fester and breathe with dust and mould.

'Well, let's hope that isn't true. ' , Rowland thought.

Nick turned around to face Rowland who was still taking photos with what looked like a smile behind his sleeve from the look of his one good eye;

"Dude, I just realised something...", Rowland stopped what he was doing and looked at him; "What..?"

Nick seemed tickled by his sudden realisation; "If they're thirteen of those weird decorations...Then we shouldn't really be here..."

Rowland looked at him confused, he then suddenly remembered a news broadcast on the radio about a possible elusive serial killer that had the police running around that seemed to oddly enough hit close to home when the mystery of Oliver's whereabouts came to light.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and then widened them in sudden realisation, turning on his heel to face Nick who stood there still smiling. The open front door allowed fresh air to roam the room, so they both took the chance of removing their hands from their faces; revealing their expressions.

"Are you telling me..?", Rowland looked around with his eyes only.

Nick now trying to hide his smile, pursed his lips and hummed a 'yes' in response while nodding.

"Oh my God.", Rowland couldn't believe it, he thought maybe it was some weird October Halloween prank; he didn't really figure they were real he just at the time thought it would be cooler if they were and now that he knew, the room felt less empty. He started noticing the nails and the screws that were jammed into the corpses and the glue that kept them still (the gloss of which he mistook for plastic) and just then, he noticed among the melancholy crowd of bones, one extra in the far right corner from where he stood caught his eyes, the skeletons were placed in such a way that made a sort of scene as the backs of all the other boney characters faced the one while - face tilted to the sky and mouth agape; it seemed to be laughing with one hand stretched out and pointing to the crowd of thirteen. The playfulness of the slightly small bowler hat and it's matching cane contrasted with the other skeletons making it look very much alive; even the flowers were fresh and vibrant as red spider lilies littered it's rib cage; one single violet was stuck in between it's right hand and the cane and an Amaryllis sat in the left eye socket, with a fully bloomed rose tucked between the spinal disks where a throat once would have been.

It looked different from the rest apart from the gleeful expression on the skeletal gentlemen's hollow and open face or that it was the only one wearing a form of clothing, but Rowland couldn't put a pin on it.

"Wait...You said thirteen, there's fourteen.", he said, backing up away from the scene for that was more than enough evidence for him.

'They're just bones, Row...But someone could still be here.' Rowland repeated to himself. "Whao...", he said.

"You think we should leave..?", Nick requested, seeing how uncomfortable Rowland got. He still opened the other mystery door and found a tray of slightly rusty knives and cleavers placed on an old and splotchy mattress with nothing else in the room except for more bottles of chemicals.

Rowland didn't answer, not sure how to react. The warmth of the room suddenly made him feel sick and uncomfortable, he silently stepped out.

In contrast to the shady house, outside felt different; it felt awake and alive unlike the skeletal gentlemen's hollow imitation. The birds sang and chattered through trees as the wind blew by, he breathed in the fresh air. Being out in the open never made him feel so safe until just then and so he walked away and further to a hidden cliff a few feet away from the shady porch of the forgotten house.

Nick casually lagged behind as he followed him; with book still in hand, he walked up and stood next to him. And from where they stood - a small cliff hidden behind a few tall trees, they could see further down the slope lush with shrubbery and littered with wild blooms of bright flora which furthermore lead to the road they came from.

Although they both stood in view of such a picturesque landscape, Nick chose to direct his attention to Rowland who quietly snapped pictures on his phone.

Rowland noticed his glare but chose to ignore him, he then huffed a laugh at a passing thought that begged a question;

"Why did you bring me here?", he asked turning his attention to Nick as a sudden anger and anxiety came over him.

"I promise you, I did not know that that was in there.", Nick said, raising his eyebrows as a genuine gesture of sincerity, in such a way that it almost made Rowland feel sorry for the black eye. He huffed a sigh and simmered down and continued to fill his phone's memory with somewhat thoughtless pictures, not sure what else to do. A silence then fell between the both of them, they both just stood there; Nick was more relaxed while Rowland was not so much apart from the ability (or lack thereof) to coexist, that was until; displaying like a close up magic trick, once Nick got his attention he pulled out a blunt from his puffy maroon turtle neck sleeve in some attempt to break the ice;

"I found it in my back pocket.", he said; "Care to shomke this bone with me..?", he joked dryly, which earned no response from Rowland.

"Too soon..? ", Nick asked, frustrating Rowland with how blasé he was being.

"How are we going to explain all this to the cops..?", Rowland raised concern, practically imploding with mixed emotions.

"Oh no no no no, we can't do that now.", Nick stated, giving a hearty chuckle to the thought that crossed Rowland's mind as if it was insane, Rowland closed his eyes and tightened his jaw as he bit down on his frustration.

"So what the fuck do we do, we just then pretend like none of this ever happened..?", with a slight tone of irritation in his voice. Which in response, Nick simply and silently nodded a 'yes' through narrowed eyes as smoke rose heavily from the now lit marijuana cigarette with a lighter that may have also been found in his pockets. Rowland fell silent again.

"Man, I did not think they were real.", Nick sighed, talking aloud but mostly to himself; "I figured they were some weird loner's morbid Halloween decorations.", He laughed, staring out at and beyond the open road that lay just below them.

The sun gleamed and felt very real, it must have been ten in the morning and the heat was already setting in, Rowland looked at the time on his phone and indeed it was that time of the day.

Nick offered a puff from the now halfway done blunt, Rowland took it and inhaled deeply; holding the smoke in his lungs before releasing it all along with a sigh as he hunched over in defeat.

"You still up for tonight?" Nick asked, staring out at the vast panoramic view. He turned to face Rowland as he dabbed the garret on the bottom of his shoe, finishing it. Rowland snapped a picture of his face as he looked up; the surprise brought innocence into his frame as he captured the same look he gave him when he apologised. The rose was elegant and the bruise was a contrast, the colours of both including the maroon sweater seemed to compliment each other as he stood in front of a forest green background, to Rowland's eyes it all made sense, but the question didn't.

"I don't know man..." Rowland looked down at his shoes avoiding eye contact.

"C'mon, man. You're gonna let this spoil your appetite.?", he said referring to the house. But it didn't just spoil his appetite, it simply made him sick. Figuring that he wasted ten dollars on a candy bar that was probably sticking to it's wrapper from the inside as it melted while they spoke.

"Why are you so chilled about this!? You do realise what we've just found, right..?", he turned his body to face Nick.

"Yeah, but there's nothing we can do... Their just bones.", Nick shrugged his shoulders, holding the book to his chest as he folded his arms.

'Sigh, they're just bones,Row...', he thought once more before sighing with his head down and silently made his way to the car.

"Hey,... ", Nick called after him; " So... What do you say?", Rowland turned around to face him but didn't know what to say, so he simply said what he thought;

"I don't know."

Nick rolled his eyes and marched toward Rowland;

"Truth or dare? ", he said, now face to face with Rowland who couldn't read Nick's current expression.

"What.", He scoffed at the absurdity of the question and so Nick asked again;

"Truth. Or dare? ", the reason why Rowland couldn't read his expression was because he didn't have one, his eye brows naturally furrowed as the corners of his lips turned downward when he relaxed his face.

Rowland evaded eye contact with his steel grey and intense glare and felt that this was a trick question but answered anyway;

"Truth."

Nick raised an eyebrow, still staring at him and then spoke;

"Then is it not true that you are bored of the life you've come to know..?", his tone more formal.

Rowland looked up at him, his height was intimidating;

" Y-Yeah, I guess...", he paused for a while then simply answered: "Yes." still unsure of if he truly was, so much so that it felt like he lied.

Nick spoke; " Then... I dare you to live the one you've dreamt of.", smirking as the last few words escaped his mouth, putting one finger right between Rowland's eyes and gently pushed his head backwards; ending and breaking away from the conversation as he moved to the other side of the car.

Rowland stood there for a moment and blinked at the sudden and surprising gesture. From a slightly murderous look of seriousness, to flicking him on the head like a kid; Rowland simply couldn't compute what had just transpired. He sheepishly got into the car and they drove off.

'What the actual fuck..?' Rowland thought.

Although the stereo played, Rowland still felt awkward after the brief chat with Nick, tense in his seat beside him. He could strangely enough still feel the cold finger tip on his forehead, it all made him feel like a scolded child which he didn't like at all, but in all fairness he was acting like one. This realisation only made him feel more so like one, so he folded his arms and tried to relax. But he just couldn't as the thought of being up in front of all those people shook him. But just then, he remembered that Nick had to face the same crowd, doing more than just hiding his face behind a canvas knowing he had to perform word of mouth. This made him feel selfish and stupid for possibly ruining Nick's on stage performance and also any chances of being in his art exhibition. He cursed himself for almost being that stupid; having been totally thrown off by the house of ghosts.

Nick paid no mind to the internal struggle riddled on his face as he drove, stopping again at the same gas station but this time parking the car.

"Just give me a second.", he said quickly as he jumped out of the driver's seat, dipping his head back in to take his wallet from the compartment that laid between them before closing the door behind him.

As he waited, Rowland closed his eyes and exhaled an audible sigh. He put his head in his hands and started rubbing his temples, finding comfort in the combating pressure from his fingers.

'Wow, this is...a lot.', he made a tired little huff of laughter, groaning at the end as he lifted his head up to the car ceiling;

"It's not even past noon.", he said aloud to himself, just then his phone rang and it was Charlotte on the other end.

"Hey, baby.", she said sweetly though her voice sounded hum and low as if trying to whisper.

"Morning.", he unknowingly smiled finding some calm at the sound of her voice;

"Where are you?", he asked concerned and still not sure where she disappeared off to after the bonfire.

"I'm in the library! I have a fucking test today and I totally blew it off!", she sounded panicked and rushed as Rowland spotted the sound of pages or paper flipping harshly in the background, he thought it a bit cute as he pictured it;

"I'm so sorry I didn't stay over...", the page flipping stopped for a moment on the other end, she hunched and leaned over the large library table with a small hill of books; biting her lip in guilt.

"Nah nah, it's fine. I just wanted to know if you're okay. I'm sorry for not calling earlier it's just...", he sighed softly before continuing; "...Nick.", he glossed over the house in his head.

"Oh man gah, did he like stab you!?", she surprisingly said in what Rowland would always cutely refer to as her ghetto moments.

"Wait, what!?", he asked puzzled.

"Like I don't know I just get this 'stabbing' vibe from him...", she continued.

"Okay... Well he just offered me a gig for tonight at a poetry slam.", he said numbly; "You think you could make it..?", he really hoped she would say yes.

"Oh, babe that's great but I don't think I can make it.", Charlotte said softly; "I gotta cram paper two tonight."

'Damn!', Rowland thought, hoping for the emotional support.

"Nah, it's cool. I guess I'm stuck with this loon until the night is over, and I feel like he low-key kidnapped me... I mean he straight up told me that he's kidnapping me but like now... I think I'm fucked.", he joked laughing, his comment made Charlotte snort as she tried her best to suppress the bout of laughter bubbling in her throat; he found this so very cute.

"Oh me gosh, that sounds super shady.", she couldn't stop laughing, he was proud of that.

"Yeah, well...", he said as his mind went back to the house and they both gradually simmered down.

"But seriously though, be careful, Row.", she changed her tone as she addressed him; "We were talking last night and I don't know what it was but I...couldn't shake this feeling about him, y'know."

"What, the 'stabbing' vibe.", he humoured.

"Yeah, that vibe I guess." She chuckled, "There's just something about him...", she said thoughtfully through a few flipped pages.

Rowland brushed off the warning and figured it was simply a case of dark humor that Nick had but answered;

"I think it's cute that you worry about me, but I'll keep that in mind."

The back door opened suddenly which made Rowland spin in his seat only to find Nick carrying large candy bars; root beers and other quaint packets filled with assorted candies.

"My ears are burning.", Was the first thing he said once his hands weren't full and he noticed Rowland on the phone, Charlotte heard him and asked Rowland to put his phone on speaker as she spoke louder on the other side.

"Yo, Nicki!", she cheered as he got back in the vintage vehicle, turning the key and giving it life.

"Yo, Charizaard.", He said with a smirk as he heard her voice to which she replied by saying his new found nickname again but in a higher octave this time, he did the same thing and this went on with them both until their nicknames sounded like bird calls. It was like watching two fraternity brothers who've just spotted each other at a party.

"What is going on? ", Rowland said in joyous bewilderment.

"Oh.", Charlotte spoke up; " He's my new supplier.", she said factually when both she and Nick suddenly in unison shouted;

"DRUGS!", as if it was some indirect high-five between the both of them.

' He pushes too!? ' Rowland thought.

"Aren't you in the library?", Rowland chimed in.

"I stepped out, needed to call Nicki anyway, so..." she said brightly then continued; "...hey Nicki, hey hey hey Nicki...", she literally cheered over the phone.

"Yyyeah..?", he answered with a smirk.

"I got a few gals looking for a good time, I told them about the bubbles and they seem pretty down for it.", she said, sounding excited as her finger snaps echoed from what sounded like a possibly empty corridor.

"Ooh, excitement.", he said with his typical nonchalant attitude. "When?"

"Some time this weekend, I would say Saturday to be safe.", Charlotte sounded serious as if finalising a formal contract; "I'll definitely check in on you if anything changes."

Nick agreed and reassured her that he'll be waiting.

All the while Rowland listened, he felt left out and decided to speak up;

"Er... How am I not aware of this taking place?", sounding how he felt.

"Busted.", Nick murmured jokingly as Charlotte answered.

"Oh honey, let's both be real...you can't handle your liquor. I didn't think you would've remembered even if I told you."

Rowland smirked at the verbal joust, feeling no shame for the lack of alcoholic exploits his had in his life. While Nick added; "Ooh, she's calling you out bro.", he snickered, also enjoying the banter.

"Hey! I'm a proud smoker, okay. I don't need alcohol to enjoy myself.", he announced proudly.

"Yeah, Charlotte. He doesn't need to get drunk to have fun.", Nick said this like a spoilt child bragging, pinning the two against each other and playing the devil's advocate as he played along.

" Et tou? ", Rowland asked Nick; who answered; " Qui, moi?"

"Oui.", Charlotte said backing up Rowland as they turned on him.

"I just wanna see where this conversation goes, so fight you devils, fight to the death.", They all laughed; so much so that Rowland almost dropped the phone.

"Ah, we have fun, we have fun.", Charlotte replied; "Well boys, I got a test to cram within the next hour so toodles!"

"Keep me posted.", Nick added just before Rowland cut the call. And soon silence fell again.

"What's up with all the sweets?", Rowland asked.

"Oh, those are for me. Why, you want some?", Nick said before adding; "Just kidding, I figured we would need the extra fuel."

'But... Breakfast though.' Rowland thought, still not quite sure if that was what he wanted.

" Well, I don't have any weed on me, man.", Rowland said, wishing that he did; knowing it would make the snacks worth while.

"Check the glove compartment.", Nick said as he plucked the rose from his head and handed it to Rowland; who huffed by the timely manner of direction, referred to the compartment which once opened; he placed the rose inside and revealed a small black cigarette holder with a white stripe that ban around the width of it. Rowland opened it up and found several incredibly thick joints placed neatly side by side.

"Duuuuuude.", Rowland looked at him.

Nick smiled; "Each one has a different flavoured blunt rapping."

"Duuuuuude!", Rowland exclaimed as he got excited, holding out a clenched hand for a fist pump which Nick then reciprocated; making contact as they both did a 'we're about to get stupid' laugh.

They soon stopped at a quiet spot unknown to Rowland that looked over a breathtaking view of Shellville and it's shore. It was getting hotter, so the both took off their jacket and turtle neck. Now in a tattered T-shirt and an untucked formal shirt; Nick and Rowland decided to sit on the hood. Grabbing a few packets; two root beers; a lighter and the cigarette holder and got comfortable.

" Y'know that this spot..." Nick started; " Was said to be one of the zodiac killer's most favorite locations back when the theory of a copycat killer was at large during the 1970's."

"Must have been romantic times.", Rowland said sarcastically not sure what to say about the strange general knowledge.

"This was a make out point. Poor horny bastards.", Nick poked fun, lighting a joint as he settled.

Rowland grabbed a root beer and put the cool beverage to his head, simultaneously stuffing fruity pebbles like candies into his front jean pocket adding to the melted chocolate bar for no other reason than for his love for them.

"I see I'm not the only slut for candy.", The comment made Rowland feel dirty as it stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I personally am a sucker for Ho ho's.", Nick continued as he grabbed a sucker.

"I hope we're still talking about candy...", Rowland chuckled. Nick farrowed his brow before relaxing them realising the pun; "Hurtful.", he smiled at the funny.

"Truthful?", Rowland asked.

"And why would you want to know?", Nick asked.

"I don't know, why does anyone want to know anything...y'know.", Rowland played with a sweet rapper avoiding ocular contact.

"Oh no sir, you do not get to play the existential card on me.", Nick demanded an answer which Rowland reluctantly gave; playing with the rapper until it wore out and broke; "You're a fucking chick magnet, bro. Like...it's like... Fucking impressive, y'know. Like why are you even here of all places and how do you walk the fucking streets without someone trying to snatch an item of your clothing.", Rowland only said what he was thinking with no real filter and immediately cringed at the sound of it all, so added; "Okay, that came out a little weird...", Rowland silently and subtly scratched the back of his neck and looked at the ground before them as Nick did a cheeky little laughter; sounding flattered then answered; "Well shit,... I guess, that's why I drive a car.", he joked.

"Wow, tss, modest.", Rowland said sarcastically.

"I mean, modesty aside, not to stroke my own ego but I kinda see what you mean.", Nick answered confidently with his signature smile; "But I have an...Acquired taste. I'm what they call a sapiophile."

"So what, brains are like tits to you?", Rowland asked.

"Apart from actual tits... Yeah.", Nick stated and they both did a boyish giggle.

"Nothing is hotter than a girl who is not only intellectual but wise.", Nick added as he stared thoughtfully at the view before them. Rowland felt like he should be worried about something but he didn't know what.

Rowland cracked open his root beer as Nick passed the rest of the blunt to him and he lit another one.

'Ohhh, cherry.', he thought as he puffed on the special cigarette; tasting the flavour through the smoke.

The high hit Rowland slowly, but once it did he loosened up, stepping away from his self consciousness.

"How many followers does a guy like you have on an instagram account?", Rowland said, getting comfortable.

"I don't have one.", Nick said.

"You're joking right? Do you have a life? Are you trapped here? Blink twice for yes.", Rowland asked as he joked, amazed that this kind of confidence didn't come from some kind of social media ego boost;

"Snap chat, twitter...at least facebook. Do you even have a phone?", he continued humorously.

"Several actually, and does it matter? In a year's time I'll have to get a new one anyway... And social media bores the snot out of me anyway, apart from the odd Newspaper article.", he said flicking an unwrapped sweet at a bird that was minding it's own business, making it take flight.

"Oh by the way, this is Sativa.", Nick continued, changing the subject as he referred to the weed; "I figured if I give you a head high...", he paused mid sentence, taking a deep puff;

"...And get you as high as possible before tonight...you won't freak out on me again.", Nick's sort of out of place comment felt like more of a complaint as he glanced in Rowland's direction. Rowland still felt a bit bad;

"Sorry about that bro, but that was a lot to take in at like... Eight in the morning.", he said whilst flicking the crushed bud over the cliff.

"Fair enough.", Nick said; "I guess I'm just... Desensitised."

This in Rowland's eyes, this was an apology from him, but he didn't know what he meant by what he said.

"We're cool about it though?", Nick looked at him humbly.

"Water under the bridge, bro.", Rowland said putting down his fizzy ginger ale as Nick passed yet another blunt down to him; fist bumping amidst the exchange.

"But wait...", Rowland said; "...these were in the glove box...", he said, believing he had connected the dots.

Nick looked at him amused.

"Don't feel special, they just happened to be there."

"Hurtful.", Rowland said smiling.

"Truthful.", Nick replied as he played with the smoke in his mouth and smiled as it came out of his nose.

The day in their opinion was well spent, they were so high that almost everything was funny. The whole way they giggled and fooled around as if school boys, it was if they had not a care in the world, time seemed to have stopped in order for them to have their fun and be it as it may that their on drugs; it seemed as though it would have felt the same either way. That is until they reached their new and final destination for time did move towards the remainder and end of the day.

Nick tried to put on a straight face as Rowland fumbled out of the car and as far as feelings go, was completely null, so much so that he didn't feel the cold as his white shirt clung to him as the ocean wind blew.

Nick put back on his turtle neck as the night winds got colder due to the slow crawl of autumn's wake; sitting in the car a little while longer before hopping out and grooming his hair with his fingertips, closing the door behind him. He looked at Rowland who was in his own world and enjoying it and roughly wrapped his arm around his neck.

"We go in and we kick ass, plain and simple.", Nick said as he put on his glasses with the other hand; walking along with Rowland toward a quaint bar squeezed between an inner city college and university student residential grounds in a busy part of town. It was only eight in the evening, so most people were calling it a day by then which filled the streets with noise or rather white noise that Rowland used to focus despite his high. He saw a cop car and was a bit more motivated to not look so doped, standing up straight when Nick broke contact with him as he walked in front to greet the bouncer at the door manning the small line that ran right next to the door. A heavy but beefy dark man who seemed to use guys like Rowland as weight lifts stood by the door with his arms crossed and legs apart defensively but relaxed as Nick approached.

They passed words as He and Nick exchanged a soulful handshake departing as Nick further disappeared inside for a moment before turning back and beckoning the lagging Rowland who then made haste.

Once inside, the smoky air of ordinary cigarettes filled his mouth and nose as well dressed yet rustic pioneers of poetry and hipsters sat down and filled the space with the familiar rumble of hushed conversations. Either a drink or a cigarette was found on each table if not both as this cafe/ bar filled up with sounds of clinking and smokey banter. Pretty posters hung on the plain brick walls as faux grapevines hung with lighting for decoration.

Rowland spotted the canvas on stage and felt his heart pang, unsettled by what he was about to do next, watching as thick rimmed glasses glared at him from a table with what he felt was an unwelcoming glance although by chance. They seemed to be late for Rowland heard a waitress passing by whisper a "finally" as she spotted Nick and Rowland moving towards the stage.

"Five minutes late.", Nick grimaced playfully; "If this isn't fashionable, then I don't know what is.", he continued to joke, but Rowland couldn't laugh for he was too nervous; he hated being late, hoping he could hide his face behind the A3 canvas.

Now standing on stage Nick lifted his chin slightly with a sort of preparatory gesture of pride as Rowland turned his canvas vertical and hid.

"Evening all.", Nick spoke clearly and cool and made random groups of guys and girls 'whoo' the way all college students 'whoo' as he continued; "What a lovely night this is with all you lovely people.", his voice low and hum as if he was talking to a lover while Rowland listened.

"I brought a friend with me tonight...", he gestured towards Rowland who simply put a peace sign in the air while his face was still covered by the canvas, the crowed laughed at the gesture; figuring it was a simple joke to emphasise his shyness but he genuinely didn't want to be seen.

"Yeah, he's a bit shy but he'll come around.", Nick humoured with the crowd as he worked with their energy, Rowland felt like a puppy.

"This one's called...", he paused for dramatic affect; "...a riddle.", he finally said bowing his head closer to the microphone as he hunched over.

Rowland was prepared to only listen to his words, counting the colours that lay before him on the easel. Nick began;

" You uproot me from my soil to light your four walls with my colour despite how much it pains me, clipping my thorns that I thought would protect me from your ruthless and unforgiving heart. Leaving me to believe I was respected for conquering you. Yet I sit neglected by your selfish love.", he spoke passionately, like a love lorn man.

"You lustfully gaze my way as I die a little every day. You won't hold me...", he uttered sounding pained, thrusting the room into a gloomy silence as they listened. He sounded on the verge of tears and although this was all for the performance; this Rowland knew, but his emotions sounded real. It urged him to think about flowers, he scribbled and scratched feverishly using the house from earlier that day as inspiration.

"I drown in my glass mixed with my tears. You lied to me when you told me I was beautiful, as I stare hollowed; at another memory of another soul, dried from your lustful embrace as it bled them dry.", he sounded enraged, voice shaking with the duality of two emotions. It almost made Rowland stop; wiping pastel colours onto his white shirt unwittingly occasionally.

"Everyday I wilt and I sink closer to the floor.... But stand for your attention...I stand with you in mind and unlike the others I stand for your purpose...for the purpose that which you gave me. If not that then what am I?", Nick said after a deep breath that was audible due to the technological equipment.

He pulled out the dried rose from his hair symbolically and crushed it in his hand; dropping it's lightweight pieces on the ground as he leaned closer to the microphone one last time but with no emotion at all on his face apart from tears that ran down his cheeks;

"Nothing.", the crowd seemed to have a lagging time of ten seconds before the morbid silence broke, Rowland turned his canvas to the crowd and held his breath; half expecting what came next but only because of Nick's performance.

The room came to life with cheers and whistles as well as finger snaps and loud hand claps. The two of them had a standing ovation, Nick humbly smiled and bowed in gratitude as Rowland finally revealed his face and did the same. His bright forest green eyes were beaming with personal satisfaction as the artwork although rushed, seemed to have come together in his mind.

A dark background highlighted an illuminated vase from an unknown lights source. Within the vase lay a lonely blooming rose that coiled within and around a small skeleton drowning within the water placed inside the vase. The skeleton's face was - like the other one before but this time had it's mouth agape in what looked like pain as the Rose emerged from it's mouth; teeth peeling off small bits of the Rose as it was lodged within it's tiny frame. The Rose hung on one side carelessly and unaware of the pain it caused the miniature version of the human skeleton. Nick took a look and smiled;

"I just knew we would knock 'em dead.", He said cockily walking off the stage, past the bar and out the door.

Rowland caught up, still holding the canvas;

"So that's it..? You just drop the mic and leave?", he asked; " We're done? I-I get the offer..?"

Nick swung the door of the car open and leaned over it as he overlooked the roof; " That's it.", he sighed; "Kinda scary how simple it can be?", his rhetorical remark made Rowland want to jump in the air and smash the canvas as an 'in yo face!' to the universe. Nick chuckled seeing how Rowland tried to repress his excitement and got into the car. Rowland still couldn't believe that this was happening, the painting that he held was going to be neatly placed in a newly established art gallery.

It was time to go home. The day was rocky in Rowland's eyes as he turned to face Nick as he drove; "So what was the meaning to that message?", Rowland asked referring to the poem.

Nick looked at him confused; "I don't understand, you drew exactly what I said, what do you wanna know?"

"I mean yeah sure, I drew the literal meaning...but I mean, the only true perspective worth note is of the artist themselves so..?", Rowland starting this conversation with glee and a new sense of smokey happiness as he awaited an answer.

"It was about...to put in a few words...", Nick thought as he answered; "The abusive and addictive nature of existence."

"Explain.", Rowland requested.

"The Rose is a metaphor, and it's circumstances are a feeling. I just Fucking made it up.", Nick answered with an unrelated sigh.

"Tss, So much for a few pages...", Rowland stated as he looked out the window and they both shared a laugh.

Rowland; who half expected a long winded speech about the poem's moral significance and meaning, was actually quite satisfied with the answer he got as it was simply put. Yawning and tapping his foot to a random song on the radio as Nick drove him home.

Opening his front door and breathed a sigh of relief mixed with the smell of smoke from earlier that day holding his trophy of the day's activities, placing it neatly on the floor by his couch as he sinks himself into the cushions. He didn't own a television, so he took out his lap top and streamed his favorite things; flipping through his phone as one of his shows started, really using this time to forget about the forgotten house.

While going through his photos his phone died, so he focused his attention to the show he was watching; BLACK MIRROR -there's nothing like fighting trauma with existential trauma, nothing like a good show. He watched until his eye lids felt heavy; occasionally nodding off and waking up. He figured it was time to go to sleep, so he shut down not only his laptop but also his brain; taking his phone with him to charge. Stripping himself of his pants and tossing them in a forgotten corner and practically dived into his bed.

He finally fell asleep...

But it seemed as though his waking moments never ceased. He was somehow back at the house, he felt cold and it was dark. There were no other skeletons like before but just the one he noticed last among the others. He stared at it; looking the way it did before except this time... It's head turned towards Rowland's direction, it was truly alive. Rowland caught his breath in his chest and held it against his racing heart as he shuddered, a heat like that of an open oven washed over him as the skeletal gentleman used it's cane to lift it's self off the chair it rested in. Rowland couldn't wake up, he didn't know if he was dreaming as he felt stiff and controlled. He watched as the skeleton took big steps towards him as the heat seemed to be omitting from it. He watched as the sudden sound of flies buzzing in his ears turned into a loud hum then into a vibration as it shook him to the very core... As the white zombie made it's way across the floor and now right in front of Rowland's face who couldn't hear anything at all, not even the hum; a defining silence as he stood face to face with this thing which, out of nowhere slammed it's hands on either side of Rowland's body hitting a wall he didn't notice, and then opened it's mouth as if trying to consume him. His vision went blurry and he lost what little control he had of himself; screaming and yelling as the beast inched closer...

And then he woke up... To the sound of his phone alarm waking him up, highlighted on his lock screen as he slid a finger left to shut it off; waking up with such a fright. As he shut off the alarm, the last picture he scrolled to was of Nick when they were up at that house. Rowland was cold and sweaty from the dream. He didn't really remember what happened but what he could feel was so real, he shook his head and made his way to the bathroom.

It was just another day.