Lost Boy (True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys) #Wattys2016

Chapter XII

Hey, Atom? Are you there? It's me, Chris. I just wanted to tell you what's been going on.

I'm at a hospital or something. Apparently we're being held as ransom, and for some reason, they want this Girl in change for us.

I miss you and the guys from the Den so much. I hope they're doing well and haven't gotten into any more trouble.

I hope that me and the rest of the Killjoys stay safe and that we keep this act up as long as we can. The BLI people think that I'm taking their weird-ass drugs, so tomorrow I'm going to a new job at the city laundromat with someone named Master Flam. He's a lot like Civil, well except for the fact that he can see, but he can't talk. I guess it'll be pretty eventful, won't it? Especially the part where I have guards stationed outside my door all the time and that if they see me leaving the city, I'm a dead man.

I haven't heard from you at all. Maybe you've said something while I was out for a week and gave up? I hope not. Or maybe I haven't been listening hard enough. I miss you like hell. I wish I could hear your voice again one more time...

"Chris?"

Atom?

"Chris? You here on Earth?"

At-

"Chris! That is your name, right?"

I opened my eyes to see a taller guy shaking me by the shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a concerned look on his face. "Chris?

"Wha- sorry, man," I apologized, shaking into reality. "I was doing something important. Didn't mean to space out like that."

"Yeah, no worries," the guy said. His hazel eyes were warm, almost comforting. They almost reminded me of Atom's. "I need you and your really loud friend to work the washers, okay?"

I smiled. He'd gotten to calling Flam my "really loud friend" and always joked about how he was always yelling and needed to tone it down. Of course, Flam never voiced his disapproval, so we didn't stop.

"Yeah, on it," I said, then turned to Flam, who was working the register. "Hey! We're on washers!" He nodded and gave a thumbs-up.

"So new guy, what're you doing here at the laundromat?" the guy asked. "You look kinda young. You're what, sixteen, seventeen? I'd think you'd pick something more exciting, like the hospital."

I cringed for a little bit at the mention of the hospital. "My mom set me up here," I lied. "She decided it was a good place to start. Seems like it." I loaded some shirts into the washers. "I don't think I caught your name."

"Arthur," he replied.

"Nice name," I said, dropping some shirts with a curse under my breath. "Better than Chris, anyway."

"Oh come on, Chris is cool!" Arthur assured. "Here, let me help." He grabbed some of the loose shirts from the floor and threw them into the washer. "Chris is like Christopher Columbus or Christoph Waker. At least those guys are cool. You know what I have with my name?"

I shrugged. "What?"

"An anteater," he sneered. "Like that fucking kids show. You remember that show?"

Play along! "Oh yeah, I remember. That show was wack."

Your poor acting skills are actually, physically hurting me.

Shut up.

"See? So your name is cool!" Arthur said, smiling. "Not a fucking anteater."

I chuckled. "Guess so!"

I felt tapping on my shoulder, and I turned around to see Flam tapping his watch.

"Alright, pipe down," I chuckled.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"Time for lunch," I replied.