A few blocks away from the poppy field dwelled a mansion too large to even be considered a mansion- maybe it could be considered an industrial complex. With gates that soared above even the tallest of rainforest trees and drizzled with a golden sparkle that resembled the glisten of a rich soup.
The mansion itself was a smooth, fondant-like banana, with white accents in a style resembling the designs of ancient Greek architecture.
Inside the many winding corridors containing rooms the size of Olympic swimming pools was one room. The door leading to the room was garnished with scratches and marks with the letters: 'Edgar' engraved onto them.
Inside lay a well-decorated large room. The room was an eclectic mix of interests and idiosyncrasies. From ancient video game consoles bound by heaps of dust to coolers filled with numerous drinks, ranging from milkshakes to sodas.
Littered about the room were framed photos and paintings, a few being framed with gold. Furthermore, the golden ones only had photos of Inuwa, Clarissa, Anyasu and Edgar. Off to the side was a large king-sized bed.
The sheets were a bleached white with a white pillow to complement. This gave it the feel of the sort of bed one would use in a hotel. Sitting on top of that bed was Edgar- his hands were together, and he held a grim expression.
The one concern he had was whether Clarissa was safe. Was unbearably pressing.
If she was successful in questioning Vector and learning the truth, then she would have called him. She would have gone to him because she trusted him.
Yet, she didn't- and if she didn't, then that would mean something had happened to her. But he didn't know what happened to her; it was impossible to tell; Clarissa had turned her location off. She had completely stopped him from intervening. He looked up to the ceiling; his eyes were wavering, his brow furrowed, and he was slightly wobbling as he rocked back and forth, disquieted. Without any means of control, he was completely out of his element.
He stopped rocking. Quickly and robotically, he pulled out his phone. He tapped the 'CrossChat' app– then he hurriedly entered his chats with Clarissa. He stared at the banner showing it was his chat with her.
It read: 'Last online 30 minutes ago'. He turned his phone off. Then without a single wasted effort, he resumed rocking. He stayed like that, his thoughts a torrent, his mind racing.
Coupled with the severity of Inuwa's failing condition, Clarissa was completely unavailable. She was cut off from the world- in Edgar's eyes. He needed something to distract him. He needed to keep moving, keep doing something. Or else he'd be lost to the constant, decadent ravings of his inner mind.
Then, as if answering his internal pleas for relief, a loud bang came from the entrance of the room. The bang permeated the room; the noise had diffused the maddening silence and with it, the continuous spiral of Edgar's increasingly chaotic thoughts.
Immediately, Edgar clambered over to the entrance. The lights were off, so he turned them on, allowing him to get a better view of the entrance at his door. It was the maid. She was probably calling him for his missed dinner at the allotted time of 6:30 pm. Now it was 7 pm. The security of such an idea allowed for a strange sense of comfort to wash over him. He smiled in relief. However, that relief was soon crushed.
The maid looked to be frantic and flustered. Her blonde hair was ruffled, and she was out of breath. Her eyes were slightly puffy, and her nose was running.
This was quite unexpected, as she usually maintained a composed exterior. Whenever Inuwa and Clarissa were done with school, they'd sometimes spend the night over at his place; as a result, they got to know the maid, who was Edgar's personal caretaker.
Through all the chaos and disasters the three had caused, the maid had never seemed to lose an ounce of composure. Thus, Edgar concluded. Something had gone extremely wrong.
"Master Edgar," the maid huffed, "Please look at this," she said, pointing at her phone. It was an app. It was labelled as 'Emergency: Crosschat'.
"What is this?!" Edgar asked incredulously.
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but Master Cross made Inuwa and Clarissa install it to ensure that we could track their location and heartbeats so we could dispatch any forces if they were in danger."
Edgar was rendered speechless for a moment. They never bothered to tell him any of this- if he had known, he could have used it to find Clarissa. What he needed to know was why he was never told.
"Why did he never tell that to me?" he asked, "Explain at once, maid!"
The maid recoiled backwards slightly at the demand. She looked to the side. "Your father wanted to ensure your friends remained safe; he didn't mean any harm-"
"Nonsense! Does he not know I am practically an adult now? Does he think of me as useless? Right now, I've been insulted!"
Squinting her eyes slightly, she studied Edgar's expression. He wouldn't calm down if she started acting as insincere as she usually did. As such, she deeply bowed.
"We're sorry! We'll make sure to notify you sooner, but shouldn't you be more worried about the condition of your friend?"
Edgar paused.
"What do you mean by that?"
Edgar obviously knew what she meant by that. The notion felt like a dagger through the heart. He was gutted. But there existed a chance that it wasn't it- so he decided to ask anyway, to hopefully deny his suspicions.
"Your friend Clarissa. She… her heart's BPM reached zero ten minutes ago," the maid solemnly stated. "She died at Geno Meadow, according to our data; that's a place Inuwa and Clarissa frequent quite often."
Geno Meadow? Edgar knew of that place; he had visited it when he was practically a toddler with his mother. If Clarissa and Inuwa had frequented that place quite often, why was he not made aware? Why was he left to be isolated?
No, he knew. He had always known. Why wouldn't he know? Edgar, the second smartest. Edgar, the champion. Edgar, the talented. So, he knew that-
Being the 3rd- and final friend, or the 'floater', is the greatest burden one can carry in a friendship. They love you and respect you, but you know that they would never choose you first. It'll always be 'Inuwa, then Edgar' or 'Clarissa and then Edgar'. They'll never try to see you at your best; they'll never try to see you at your worst; they'll never care to know because you are the constant that keeps them together. You are the one they'll turn to after a fight; you are the one they'll turn to second; you are the one they'll forget to acknowledge after all is said and done. You keep them together, but what is keeping you together? Aside from the blithe prospect that you can stand on the same level ground someday- even if it's still all futile. Being that person makes me wonder: did she even think of me in her last moments? And if she did, what about me did she think of? Me being gentle? Me being angry? I don't know, I don't want to care, because I know it'll only be the side of me that she cared to look for. In other words, the hollow shell that I felt comfortable showing them.
Edgar began to bite his lip. He bit it so hard he began to draw blood. The maid had long since left for the head's quarters. It was just Edgar's head swelling and melting in his excessive melancholy.
There was nothing to hold him together, nothing to show him the way. Clarissa had died, and Vector was the likely culprit. However, one man certainly couldn't contend with an entire police force? Could he? But if he killed Clarissa of all people, someone who was the peak of intelligence in his eyes. Who's to say he couldn't evade the police?
The situation seemed hopeless. He couldn't get revenge for his friend, nor could he go out and look for Clarissa's corpse, in fear of being killed. The drowning hopelessness of the situation suddenly took him back. It reminded him of when the mind-numbing, gut-wrenching, hopeless feeling of plastered smiles and barely hidden venom was the norm in his life. Where he had all the knowledge but the inability to act on it, where 'friends' came in droves, but warm memories and strong bonds seemed to stagnate.