Amson, 17, "New Presence"

'What is this feeling?' I asked myself, unsure if I could even provide an answer.

This nameless face, the combination of my most trained and ravaging faces within myself, was a miracle work; I'd never known this self. Both the social knowledge of "The Liar" and the mental fortitude and ethic of "The Mind." With this, it was easy to satisfy the needs of both.

Through its influence on both myself and those I was around, I could easily form my relationships to something more beneficial, without worry that I might be neglecting a single part of myself. This was my purest self; there was no need for the illusion of faces anymore. I was a psychological force, and the only thing in my way would be myself and this godforsaken system.

Yet Butcher Cross, after three dreadful years of solitude, had finally become something I could mold, refine into something that would not only guarantee my present but my future. I'm ashamed I hadn't thought this out beforehand.

Charismatic, confident, and levelheaded, all aspects of myself that were only contained within my mind, waiting to be tapped into. Their awakening was probably the best thing that'd ever happened to this reality.

Still, they had no name.

Throughout my day, I focused on my studies, drowning out the endless noise inside my head completely. I was present with no will to sleep or dissociate. When called upon, my answer was perfection, with articulation and personality to match. I felt the increase of eyes upon me, but it only fueled my renewed self.

I walked the halls with a swagger, not of ego but a content, a presence that came from within myself and only happened to show externally. I wanted and needed no trouble, but if it were to present itself, this new face would be prepared; he doesn't put up with the bullshit that "The Liar" might've. But not without consciousness.

I might've been a bit too enthralled with who I'd become.

I bumped into someone, but it was ok, a useless inconvenience. I turned around to meet their face, showing my compassion.

"I apologize." I said, my eyes slowly ascending to meet the unfortunate soul.

That unfortunate soul grinded his teeth at me like some animal. In comparison to myself, he was a giant; I could barely see within his dominating shadow. I continued to look at him without aggression or fear, for there was no need.

"What the hell's your problem, chump?!" He yelled, shaking the floor with his voice alone.

Those inside the hall stopped completely, their eyes surrounding us as they instinctively formed a circle. Phones flashed in our direction, and I stood, indifferent. I knew what was about to happen, but I didn't care. De-escalation was my best option to rid myself of the scenario, but seeing his idiotic, mad mug, I gradually realized that it might be an impossible outcome.

"I don't mean you any trouble, honest." I assured the beast. "We really should be getting to class."

"What a pussy!" He yelled to the crowd, ushering all eyes toward me. "You scared to take responsibility for your actions, bitch?"

I sighed.

"I just don't care to humor you. I apologized, so leave me alone, man."

He pushed me back, and the crowd howled in response. He'd thrown the first "punch," and I was now nearly forced into this useless fight. From watching them from afar, I thought I'd know how to feel when presented the situation, but the feeling was strange. I didn't like the feeling; I didn't want to lose.

"What're you gonna do, bitch?!" He taunted me. "Huh?!"

The most he did was make me stumble a bit with that push. What'd gotten him so confident? It was all another annoyance, but it wasn't without affect to my image. If I lost, this revelation would have bore nothing but hubris, but if I won, I'd get the unwanted attention of these idiot followers.

It was a chore deciding which, but I settled quickly enough. I'd told myself I wouldn't lick their shoes anymore, and as I stepped forward, the crowd's uproar echoed through the hallway, shaking the lockers to a beat that almost signified my return to the limelight.

///

I locked eyes with the pitcher, waiting to push my feet free from the grasp of the turf beneath us. My team was about as defeated as they could have been, and though I hadn't kicked yet this game, they were not very hopeful. I'd become known to show little interest in the game, sometimes neglecting to kick the ball altogether. That was the image I'd made for myself; it wouldn't be easily remedied.

Though, if I kicked it there, I could rebuild that trust and paint over all evidence of the person I once was. I braced my legs, and as it rolled, I steadily gained momentum, leading into my powerful kick. The ball flew through the air, and the eyes of my team trailed its path through the sky. I walked nonchalantly toward first base as the ball passed the metal chain fence.

My team went into pandemonium, prancing all the way until I arrived back at the home plate. They embraced me, and I caught Baun's smile from afar, standing idly in the outfield. It was rejuvenating, this feeling. It was almost nostalgic; I knew I'd felt something like that feeling before. The adoration, in the moment at least, made me feel alive.

Still, we lost horribly.

///

"That kick was something, Am." Baun laughed, patting me on the back. "When'd you become some ace?"

Baun and I sat by one another, within the comfort of the air-conditioned gymnasium. Still winded, the both of us talked between breaths, enjoying each other's company. No matter the state of mind, my feelings toward Baun'd never changed. He was too much of a pivotal figure in my life that whenever I spoke to him, I was probably the closest thing to myself that I'd ever become.

I looked at him, smiling as the chatter of the gymnasium rang fresh in our ears.

"Probably just hit a lucky spot." I humored myself.

"Yeah, right." He chuckled. "You looked way too confident for some fluke."

"I don't know." I said. "I think I've been feeling this party."

"Now that's something I didn't expect to hear from you. You struck me as someone who'd be mortified... Seems like that fear about your family's dialed down a tad."

I got a cold chill from the reminder.

"In any case, the realization'll strike me when it needs to." I groaned, standing up.

He did the same, following me to the locker rooms. It was silent for that moment, but he eventually broke it, something seeming to be on his mind. We changed right next to one another, and those in the locker room with us carried their own conversations as well. It was the premier bonding setting.

"I wonder what your sister's gonna cook up." He said.

I took my gym shirt off, kicking my leg over the wooden bench in front of us. Baun started shorts first, revealing his white briefs to the room. He sat on the bench, struggling to get his shorts over his shoes. For some reason, he kept them on.

"Probably something troublesome in some way." I responded, trying not to think too hard on the possibilities. "Anyways, there's not much she could do with so little space."

"Your yard's decently sized." Baun pondered, straining to push his shorts over the edge of his shoes. "Maybe--"

"That's enough daydreaming, Baun." I put my jacket over my tank top. "Now, take your shoes off and put your fucking jeans on."