Simon Says

He is staring after them and can't believe it. 'Are you kidding me?' This idiot decided to go with this brand-new superstar, who was a step away from jail, of all people? After all these talking about his betrayal and his rotten core under the guise of virtue? 'And you think it's a great idea', Simon doesn't even specify, he doesn't try to hide an utter astonishment in his voice. Marlon looks up, distracted from a piece of paper, tilting his head. 'What idea?' Simon looks at him speechless. Marlon knows the heart of the matter, he looks back just as silently. Simon lets the topic die out. It isn't worth it. 'Don't sweat it — he won't finish him off'. 'Who will finish off who and where?' Simon chirps casually, casting the spot of light from his flashlight in the hallway and making circles with it. Marlon is silent for a while, but then sighs and rolls his eyes. 'Even if Riley really likes to hear 'no' more often than 'yes', it's not like this when it comes to guys.' 'Ew.' 'Ew?!' Marlon turns around and the light blinds Simon. 'I don't mean men fucking, but Trudeau with his quirks — ew. Next time put some disclaimer so no one gets gagging.' 'I thought you were worried that his quirks involve not only girls, even though you and Cyrus are not big fans of each other, you are trying to take care of him.' 'Ugh…' 'What is it this time? ' 'Your touchy-feely gay snots.' 'You're annoying.' 'I just want to have a normal evening without getting caught in the middle of a ten-year-old shit. If you know what I mean.' 'It wasn't ten years ago. Although it's kind of funny that you remember about this. I'm not even sure Cyrus cares about it, and Riley cares even less with everything that's going on with him. But somehow it pops in your head right now.' 'Do you think they're having a casual conversation there, like everyone else? Having fun doing something?' 'What do you think they're doing?' Simon drops this matter as well, recognizing a mockery in the air. Maybe he is just imagining things, and maybe not. Better safe than sorry. 'Do you think it would have worked for us if it had been our fight five years ago?' Marlon breaks the silence first, as he almost always does. 'It was six years ago, if I'm not mistaken.' 'Whatever. You're evading the question.' 'How touchy of a motherfucker you are.' 'What the fuck?' 'We wouldn't get into such a serious fight, we wouldn't ignore each other for six years over some bullshit. And if we were, then we would never pretend that we are over it and all is smooth, as if our childish skirmishes passed from record.' 'But you don't know what started it all.' 'If I parted brass rags with you it would be lame to fake goody-goody now.' 'So, if we fuck up, we are not getting back together?' 'You and I are not twelve years old to go through such bullshit. Maybe they already regret that they fell out then, probably it wasn't worth it. I had a lot of rubbish in my head when I was twelve.' 'You don't have to tell me, I remember that well', Marlon raises his voice significantly and then grunts. 'Sure you do. I guess they both regret this shit and each of them tears his hair out.' 'Which brings us back to the question — what are they doing there? And why doesn't it seem like a good idea to you?' 'You want my honest opinion?' 'Of course. This is between us, cross my heart.' 'It's not going to work. The old buddies who once fucked up over some shit can't get over it even at the age of forty. Even if they both start admitting their guilt with the right words, talking about 'no hard feelings', the pride eventually comes out. You know that there is no such thing as blameless in a fight. The thing is, no one would want to hear that. Nobody likes to be blamed by anyone.' His grumbling fades out in the dark. They both hear a strange dripping sound. Perhaps it's only an echo. 'You know', says Marlon, pointing the flashlight upward and illuminating the moss on the ceiling, 'from a statistical point of view, I don't think that leaving them together is such a brilliant idea. Anything could happen.' 'Who the fuck even thought of it.' 'Me. I knew no one would join Trudeau willingly. Speaking about you and Cyrus, ripping your hand off is easier for you than being with him in one room.' 'Did you ask Riley?' 'Well, I guess both of you see eye to eye. But the thing is you are not labelled as a skilled rapist as he is. I knew he wouldn't mind. At least not openly.' 'You're such a best friend, you know.' 'Come on, Cyrus knows it's going to be funny.' 'Nothing about that sounds wrong to him? Did you come up with this beforehand?' 'C'mon, we are not planning a bank robbery. We, let's just say, have our own suspicions about Riley, besides, Riley never saw Cyrus clearly. This is one of the reasons they parted brass rags.' 'Is he really still driving up the wall after all these years?' 'You told me you had a lot of rubbish in your head when you were twelve. At that age all shitty stuff doesn't go away just like that.' 'What exactly are you up to?' 'Big secret.' 'Do you think Riley will care when he's got so much on his plate?' 'Right now, he could miss a drop in the bucket of pig's blood that hung over him to roll over.' 'Good reference. Which one of you two is Rhys Targensen?' Marlon looks up thoughtfully, illuminating his face with a flashlight — like a scene out of a horror movie. 'That would be Cyrus. I am more of a Willy Dolan type of person. I'm the brains of this operation.' 'It's a subtle hint at his stupidity.' 'It's also a hint that he's attractive.' 'It doesn't matter.' 'But you liked it.' 'Exactly.' 'What the hell is always wrong with you and him?' 'His personality is a mix of two human qualities that I just can't stand?' 'You are underestimating yourself.' 'Did you just call me dumb as well?' 'Why do you always focus on the ba… Shush.' Simon breaks off. Marlon stops without looking back and Simon suddenly bumps his lower abdomen into his arm. A similar picture could take place in another hall between Trudeau and Cyrus. Simon rolls his eyes and pulls a face — fucking thoughts. He takes the flashlight and the map. Marlon puts the phone in his back pocket, the fabric is apparently too tight on him. He climbs into the dubious ventilation shaft just above the floor. Luckily, the grille is pushed back. 'If a pile of bricks will fall on you and your guts will be squeezed through your mouth slowly and painfully, it will be hard to feel it because of a broken spine', Simon laughs at his own joke, 'Ah-hah, 'hard'. I didn't mean to, really. But it will be hard for sure.' 'Why in the world did I take you with me. You're a pain in the ass.' 'Because without me, you'll even look into a serial maniac's ass with a flashlight, and you know yourself — you'll come to a sticky end. You have the worst taste in friends, picking them according to your own advantage, and not out of sympathy.' 'Well, thank you.' 'Then you get used to them and completely forget where it all started…' The skin-blistering female scream cut their conversation off. Simon twitches, glad that no one could see him. But Marlon jumps up in the shaft and naturally beats his back against it's ceiling, then he shouts and swears. Simon winces and closes his eyes — Marlon's fumbling and the crackle of a breaking screen. The phone is definitely going to fall out of the pocket if seventy percent of it sticks out. 'At least Riley can be sure that whatever happens he is not blamed for this', Simon grumbles and gawks. This reminds Marlon why they are friends in the first place, despite the stodginess of his bestie. There is a doll suitcase rocking on his finger with straps and buckles, and even with a digital lock on the clasp. 'Are you fucking serious.' 'This stuff is made for idiots, Riley's 'bright intelligence' would never let him find the door if it's not opened, despite the fact that it's easy-peasy.' 'What are the chances…' Simon begins and drops off, thinking about it and staring at him. Marlon stares back at him and turns pale. 'I told you.' 'I hate you! Seriously, for a change, can't this ever be not your way?' Marlon, with a growl of weakness, pushes past him. There are no sweeter moments for Simon than those when he hears that he's right. He is even ready to be left with bruises from other people's elbows. 'Literally everything in the world is not my fucking way, why can't something be my way sometimes', he whines unconvincingly, following the self-proclaimed 'brains of the operation' again. The operation which is apparently going wrong. 'I knew it', he bends and whispers in Marlon's ear with ill-concealed pleasure. Simon tries to infuriate him, taking advantage of his height. Marlon waves him off sharply, like a mosquito. Simon manages to dodge and giggles nastily, peeking out from someone his head. 'Who was yelling?' Dustin asks what everyone else would like to know. 'Me', Lourdes answers honestly, raising her hand just a little. Silence. 'I was scared, should I get any special permission for screaming?' 'Can you live just one day without raping anybody, Trudeau?' Marlon gets lost in thoughts as Trudeau suddenly rushes in his direction, Simon manages to sneak away behind his back, then he dives under someone else's elbow and emerges on the other side of the human circle. A small crowd surrounds the hole in the floor, they have gathered to celebrate Tamhain. Riley goes around, eyes on Simon, faking a smile. He can't get any closer, because Simon is hiding between the edge of the gap and the girls who don't have an escape. Trying to grab Simon through them is too risky — one or two of them can be pushed as well. What if one of the girls gets hurt again… 'Asshole', Riley says almost in a whisper, but then backs up, his eyes on Simon are clearly promising something. 'Yeah, we look similar, but not this much. Take a chill pill, winner, the one you need is over there', Simon pokes his finger into the hole's direction. 'Gods, what am I doing… Are you okay?!' Marlon finally shouts into the hole, although the floor below them is not so far away. 'Um… no? Obviously? If you're done, I might have a dislocation, and it would be great…' Cyrus replies, his voice is matter-of-fact. Lourdes interrupts him: 'Don't move, the broken glass can be there! We're coming to you', Marlon notices how his friend refuses the idea of teaching people some ethics. His eyebrows are raised very high, but he doesn't say anything out loud, sitting in the wreckage. It doesn't really look good. 'I know what is broken — his ego', Simon mutters heading to the stairs and gets slapped on the ass. He doesn't bother to check, knowing who did this. 'Can you be less… you?' suggests Marlon. 'I just said that he might not realize that he has broken something. Good thing if it's a leg. Or two.' 'Okay, the quest game in the abandoned building was a shitty idea. Are you satisfied?' 'No, but I'll shut up. Holy smokes, you are so unstable today!' Lourdes reaches first, overcoming the chaos created by Cyrus, who sits like an emperor in the throne room, afraid to move, probably thinking about the broken glass. Perhaps he really has broken something, who knows, he is pinned down and not sure if that is why he does not feel any pain. 'Uh, should I remove something?' she offers. '…If you don't mind', he replies, the voice is so lifeless that the heavy sarcasm is unnoticeable. 'You can start with that piece of concrete', suggests Simon, pointing the flashlight at the mentioned fragment. It's not only Cyrus who gets astonished at the sight of the big rock. 'Are you sure that nothing is broken?' 'Fuck off', Riley shoves Simon away before Cyrus answers. The air is stale. Why would they agree to this in the first place? After all, Marlon doesn't know much about these 'college buddies' who set up the event. It's an abandoned doll factory, who knows how many of them are scattered around here. 'College buddies' like the eerie vibe of this place. Every year they hide the 'winning ticket', hoping to beat it off and get a good extra. What will they win, if at all? A group ticket to the cinema? A box of cheap beer? The whole idea no longer seems as brilliant as it was a week ago, when Marlon invited them, mentioning that he would pay for the entrance of all three of them. The prospect of dying from tetanus never excited Cyrus. Simon jumps back in a very artistic way, as if he is going to collapse from the poke, he purses his lips, suppressing a smile. Marlon glares at him suspiciously, he can recognize a provocation when he sees it, though the purpose of it is not blatant to him. Now it's Simon's turn to stare — Riley fusses around a guy he pretended to ignore for two months. Six years ago they parted brass rags and didn't talk all this time, though they had a lifelong friendship till then. 'Look at that, ten minutes alone in an abandoned building make miracles', he thinks, grimacing at this hypocrisy. He lowers the flashlight, accidentally catching Marlon's eye on him, turns it off and takes out his phone. Whatever. Even if this dumbass broke his legs or spine, what can he, Simon, personally do with that? Nothing. He's not just the third one here, but the thirty-third wheel, there is a bunch of those who care. It is not necessary to pretend that he is one of the caring crowd. Even if someone ends in hospital today, the sun will shine for him tomorrow just as brightly. At least Riley doesn't push Marlon away, he pretends not to see him while they dig his highness out of a pile of garbage. He doesn't even mind when Marlon helps to pull Cyrus out of the wreckage and put him on his feet. To Simon's satisfaction, Marlon doesn't let his ex-bestie decide what to do next. Riley had already thrown Cyrus' arm over his neck and was trying to pull him aside, pressing him to his side, but Marlon did not let him go, pulling him in the opposite direction. Simon's smile gets broader. He couldn't believe that Riley Trudeau could rape someone who has a vagina. The reasons for the doubts are obvious. The story becomes more interesting. It's just as funny as pissing Riley off with something he obviously didn't do, because his reactions are worth it. 'Um, thanks, Superguy, we can handle it from here', Marlon giggles thickly. 'Do you have a car?' the ex-celebrity of a local football team asks casually without a hint of social interaction. Or is he the current one? Not much of a celebrity though. 'No, but calling a taxi is not a problem, we will take him to the hospital and then home.' 'I know where he lives. I don't need a taxi, my car is just around the corner.' 'Do you even know which dorm his room is in?' Marlon looks so surprised that almost releases Cyrus. Simon hides his broad smile behind the phone he holds next to his mouth. Riley looks stuck, just like a computer that needs restarting. 'They'll carry me somehow. What is it for you?' interferes Cyrus and Riley finally lets go of him, Marlon catches him just in time. Simon tries to get to Trudeau: 'So it wasn't him who broke the floor with you, was it?' he feels that his finest hour has come. Unfortunately, it doesn't work — Trudeau just turns away, brushing himself off. 'Then I'm off. It was a lot of fun, thanks for the invitation.' 'Well, at least we found the prize', Marlon tries to stop him, and Riley turns around reluctantly. He doesn't look at them. The guess is correct, Simon holds the doll suitcase with the prize. 'Congratulations, now you can drink yourself blind in some cheap-ass food joint. I hope it was worth it.' Cyrus tries to hide it, but his face is almost white, even in the light of the flashlights. 'Come on, nag, your hero went to another castle, huh', Simon dives under his other arm. Cyrus doesn't seem to keep up with hints, even when he sees him coming up close. Cyrus has a proud spirit — if you don't kick him, he won't move. Simon would kick him with pleasure, probably not now and not in public. 'Well, guys, good work, go take a break!' he raises his voice without looking back, making an awkward curtsy and changing his legs. His acting distracts everyone. Almost everyone. 'Hey, and what about the prize?!' Lourdes' voice catches up with them. 'Fuck', Simon mutters. Marlon thinks that the beggarly nature of some people can't be cured. 'Let me guess, running is out of question', Cyrus clarifies, hanging between them askew, like a scarecrow in a field, covered either with dust or whitewash. 'And it's all your fault, unless, of course, you're protecting the villain. Savannah didn't finish well, standing up for him, think about it', Simon grumbles, still hoping to sneak away without further explanation or sharing. The other nine losers, apparently, are not going to throw their money away. 'Do you believe she finished at all?' Cyrus responds. The three of them face the fact — they will have to share, the taxi is called as well. When Cyrus peeks out of the passenger seat window, which he was tucked into, Riley's truck is no longer in sight. The factory looks so dubious that he does not understand how they decided to go inside with this 'crowd' of only thirteen people. What if, instead of a doll suitcase with a prize for a 'drink in a cheap-ass food joint', there would be… He is complicating it too much. This only happens in the movies. He shouldn't listen to Simon's talks, otherwise he can give you so much anxiety that you'll be scared to leave your room. Speak of the evil spirits, Simon is here. The mentioned spirit gets into the car as if there was no place in others. Cyrus has to move his injured leg which hurts terribly. 'Make some room, will ya?' They have always been together since Cyrus transferred, being urged by Marlon. If he only knew that the 'great funny guy' would turn out to be Simon, he would have stayed at his 'queasily elite' academy. 'Fuck! It hurts!' he screams with a growl, grabbing the leg on which Simon has dropped his bag. 'Cut the comedy. It doesn't look broken', Simon is full of sympathy and compassion. 'So we're not going to the hospital, are we?' Marlon asks. 'Yeah, what are we supposed to say? 'Hello, we've been wandering around private property without any permission, but with some freaky guys who would break our heads if we turned them in … Would you mind to look at scrapes and bruises on our friend?' Don't we have a first-aid post in the dorm?' 'And what? Our story won't change a bit', Marlon raises his eyebrows and squints. The antipathy of one of his friends to another sometimes crosses the limits and turns into something threatening. Simon doesn't want to look at the 'new best friend', but he has to. Surprisingly, he and Cyrus have the same thoughts. 'Let's just say that he fell down the stairs', Simon winces and shrugs.