The Famoux (Wattpad Books Edition)

CHAPTER TWO

In the beginning years of Delicatum, people thought the first-ever Darkening was a sign of the end of the world. It's not hard to see why. A few days before one occurs, small black particles begin to pepper the sky, growing thicker with each morning. And then, when there isn't any more sky left for them to block—darkness. Two whole days of it.

But these first survivors in Delicatum didn't know it would only be two days, then. For all they knew, it could've been forever.

They panicked. These were people who had survived mass floods and atomic bombs to get through the End. But this? This didn't have the same kind of easy scientific explanation. It felt divine, like a punishment for the way the world had ended up. The two days of that first Darkening were filled with absolute chaos. One of the reasons Betnedoor is the most prosperous state today, with high-tech buildings and freshly paved streets, is because its citizens set fire to nearly all of their ruins then, desperately trying to create their own sunlight. They had to build from the ground up when the sun returned.

Nevertheless, the sun did return. The world rejoiced. They'd survived. They were apprehensive when the particles returned weeks later, but they survived it again. They began to piece it together. This wasn't an unpredictable attack, but a reliable weather pattern. There was nothing to fear at all.

Today, Darkenings are a calm affair. A welcome one, even. The last two days of every month are considered holidays now, for everyone to stay home and decompress after a long month of working. Some people use the time to rest, to read, to start something new. Nowadays, however, most people spend it watching the Famoux.

Over the week, the sky has slowly gotten grayer than our usual smog coverage in anticipation of this month's blackout. I've endured a whole array of torment from the Greyhounds, as they try to inflict as much pain as they can before they have to take two days off. It's not favorable, but the promise of a break at the end of the week, filled with only the Famoux, makes me grit my teeth and bear it.

Today is the day before the Darkening, and the streets of Trulivent are bustling. The news about the Fishbowl coming to town was all anyone could talk about at school. Usually I run right home after class to avoid Westin sniffing me out around town, but I can't help myself from following the hordes of students rushing to the main square to catch a peek.

Even in the soot-covered sunlight, it glitters. Three times larger than my own house, this one is made entirely of glass. The aptly named Fishbowl, where The Fishbowl broadcast will happen. The Famoux will roam about this house like rare, alluring fish for our Darkening entertainment. Since Eldae and Notness don't get to see the Famoux roam their streets every day like Betnedoor does, the Fishbowl house moves to different cities over here every blackout, giving fans all over Delicatum their fair chance to see it in person. This is a high honor for us to get the Fishbowl for a Darkening that promises to be eventful. The first one without Bree Arch.

There is an incredible number of tents pitched up around the glass house, with fans milling about to find a good viewing spot. Though there's technically a country-wide curfew during the Darkenings to reduce any potential crime, the Fishbowl comes here so infrequently that when it does, authorities don't get too mad about people camping out in the square. It becomes somewhat of a festival, even. My family doesn't join in on this, of course. We opt for watching inside, usually muted so Brandyce and Dalton can dub ridiculous conversations over whatever is happening on-screen.

On nights before the Darkening, our house may as well be as muted as our television set. When I arrive home, stillness has already set in the air, thick and impenetrable. My family eats dinner, the clink of silverware serving as sporadic background music. Every so often I'll meet Dalton's gaze, but then he turns away to our father, for whom Darkenings are impossible reminders. The day after my mother disappeared we entered into one, and he kept pacing the floors and murmuring about how wherever she was, she likely couldn't find her way home without any light. Even when the sun came up two days later, it may as well have never surfaced again for him. He picks at his food and even thanks Brandyce for making it, and she lets the comment hang. Silence pervades over us all, a gash gone untreated for years.