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Not much was said on the drive to Vergil's home. Mr. Janitor refused to open up even a little, so Vergil kind of gave up eventually and kept quiet. It was very easy to, he was the quiet one, it came naturally.

Once the car stopped a few streets away from his home, probably as to not be spotted by his mom, Vergil glanced at the man tentatively. Vergil's pitch black eyes peeked from underneath the silly straight bangs, glistening with hope.

The man must've foreseen his intention, for he threw a glance outside and nibbled on his knuckles, elbow on the frame of the car's window.

Still, Vergil went for it.

"Would you walk me home?"

It was a few ways from there, not accessible by car. Mr. Janitor sighed every bit of air in him and exited the vehicle. He didn't seem necessarily pissed, not even mildly discontent. He was as neutral as ever, which calmed Vergil down.

Only a few steps later and Vergil shivered uncontrollably. His 1235 calories a day diet took its toll on him.

"I'm not giving you my hoodie."

A few birds flew away from a nearby tree because of his low, raspy voice. Meanwhile, butterflies also flew away from Vergil's intestines and swarmed over his heart. He hugged himself tightly.

"I didn't do it on purpose."

The man looked at him from the corner of his eye. The very low corner of his eye. He was huge compared to Vergil.

"So you're really cold?"

Vergil shook his head. "You don't have to give me your sweater. It's a- a sweater, not a hoodie, by the way. It doesn't have a, um, hood."

He knew it wouldn't mean anything anyway. Mr. Janitor just did that kind of things. He could remember a certain rainy day, when a student was sitting outside on a bench, shirtless, after his clothes had been hidden during PE by Dork and his friends. Mr. Janitor had gone in the rain and placed his janitor jacket on the guy. He was kind like that.

That's how, a minute later, he found himself swimming in the man's sweater. He tried not to sniff too obviously. Once they took maybe two lefts and a right and getting to a very narrow street, Mr. Janitor took out his cigarette pack and lit one up.

"I hope you are satisfied and will not approach me anymore."

Vergil lowered his head and kicked a pebble. A 'meow' went heard, and looking up he noticed he'd hit a cat accidentally. Three others ran from behind a dumpster into a hole of the building to the left.

Too many cats in such a tiny town.

"I kind of wanted an actual date maybe..."

"You said you wanted to pay- I mean to spend time together."

Vergil shrugged. "Well..."

"No." the man stopped once they exited the tiny alleyway, and was now under a streetlight. It caused his pale blonde hair to glow.

Vergil glanced down the tilted road. At the end of the slope stood his tiny house, with the light of the kitchen turned on. But Mr. Janitor didn't seem in the mood to walk him any further.

"O-Okay..."

It had already gotten too far as it was. Vergil had confessed, given him flowers, gotten to see his place, spent the afternoon with him... He just couldn't ask for more.

Vergil nodded. "Okay..." he repeated. "May I... at least know your name?"

"No..."

Vergil nodded. "Okay."

Mr. Janitor did the characteristically slow nod of the head and, finally, inevitably, left.

Vergil stood and watched. Tall, hunched, each wide step causing his bun to loosen up more and more. A mist of smoke flew in his wake from the cigarette he had yet to finish, and soon enough the smoke was all that was left of him.

Vergil went home. Quietly, he went to his room, not wishing to face his mom just then. Just as quiet, he took off his pants, kept the sweater on and sat on his bed with a soft creak of the mattress.

It was very quiet...

He opened his drawer, took out his pills and poured himself a mouthful. He felt his salivary glands work against the many kinds of bitter taste, filling up his mouth with saliva. The pills were starting to get soggy.

It was then that his mom quietly entered. But the light from the kitchen leaked into the room, causing Vergil to jump and slap a hand over his mouth, frozen.

There was simply nothing he could do. He was done for. It wasn't fair. He knew he wouldn't really... do it. This was simply yet another stupid ritual of his for when he felt particularly miserable, but his mom wouldn't know that. She's just entered her son's room to see him surrounded by pill bottles with a little bit of saliva on his lips.

He had to spit the pills onto her palm. It was almost morbid how he could remember being little and having to spit a toy or something inedible onto her hand. Ah, how times change...

They argued for the next couple hours and then went to sleep, as family argumets go. No matter the gravity of the situation, sleep would follow suit and then an awkward morning in which they realize they can't possibly avoid each other while living under the same roof.

As a bonus, Vergil's mother called Dudan and made an appointment for the very next day.

Everything was going horribly.

Were Vergil to write an autobiography, that would've been its title.

Seeing as Vergil has become a 'potential danger to himself', Dudan earned the right to break doctor-patient confidentiality. Yes, Vergil's mother was now aware of his crush on a 40 years old man.

By that point Vergil had no energy left to worry about it. The cards were on the table, there was nothing to be done. In a way, it was almost relieving. He had autism, so his mother couldn't exactly blame him for anything, not even punish him.

He was now at college, having only arrived at lunch break because of the therapy session. His arms were crossed on the table, chin on top of them, with his hood up. He hadn't washed his hair in a while and so it was starting to curl up a little, strands escaping the hood and covering his eyes.

"Hey."

Vergil looked to his right. The guy that spoke had the upper half of his face entirely hidden by hair, only his mouth visible. He was surrounded by two other similar figures- it was the emo table. Yes, they still existed even in 2017.

"Wanna hang out?"

Vergil blinked repeatedly and blushed, straightening up his back and pulling down his hood. Well, the hood of Mr. Janitor's sweater. He wasn't planning on taking it off anytime soon... Or ever, for that matter. "Um, uh- sorry- what."

The guy tentatively flipped his hair away from his face, but it slipped right back. "Come on. Let's talk."

Vergil played with his sleeves fiercely. All three people, one of which he wasn't sure the gender of, sat there hunched waiting for him. He didn't want to go, but he couldn't run away because it'd be awkward, and just sitting there wasn't an option either.

He sighed and stood up. He managed to knock over something just by doing that. It was his water bottle, and it rolled off the table. He awkwardly picked it up and made his way over, hugging his backpack.

They kept asking weird questions like his favorite band, what he thought was the meaning of life, what dye he used for his hair to get it so black, has he tried killing himself.

"Um... I took a lot of pills last night... actually..."

As always, he didn't know what was okay to mention in a conversation and what wasn't. But in this case, it seemed dubiously adequate, for everyone looked at him in awe and admiration.

"You are, like, so brave. Did your family apologize for being so shitty?"

"They cried, didn't they?"

"What were you listening to when you did it? Did you throw up?"

Vergil shook his head, dumbfounded. How were they so weird? Perhaps weirder than even him!

"Glad to see you're making friends, Vergil!"

Vergil had never been so glad to hear Stevo's voice. Well, except for when bullies would pick on him and Stevo would pop out of nowhere.

The person whose gender was questionable gaped, pulling the hair out of their eyes. "It's Stevo..." they whispered.

All three started fixing themselves up, which took a lot of time considering the amount of accessories and hair.

Stevo squinted, adding a sly smile. And then he, as always, started quoting Stevo from SLC Punk: " 'Those guys in school that sat alone in the cafeteria getting shit from the jocks, wishing to God they could be cool for just like one minute!' "

All three heads nodded vigorously. "That's, like, so us."

While Stevo kept enjoying their attention, Vergil discreetly stood up from the table and started walking away. In no time, the blue haired man was by his side, strolling along with him down the corridor.

"Ethan is waiting for us at our usual spot." he said, clearing his throat. "You're going to tell us about the date."

Vergil hesitated. "...We don't have an usual spot."

"Now we do."

"...Where?"

"You'll see."

----------

"This is an unusual usual spot..."

It was by a very ugly tree, in the yard, at the top of the stairs-shaped hill. Three of its branches were very low, nearly touching the ground, and it had something like a tumor at the base of the bark.

"It's an ugly tree." Vergil continued.

"You're ugly." Stevo murmured a little awkwardly. The subject of his date hanged above their heads like a tiny awkward cloud.

Once they were all seated, with Vergil in the middle, they each occupied themselves with something. Ethan was doodling on a sketchbook, Vergil was observing a fly walking up and down his arm and Stevo was on his phone.

"So about that date..." Ethan finally began.

Vergil sighed. His breath caused the fly to get scared and go back to touching gross stuff somewhere.

"Turns out he wasn't interested."

Stevo locked his phone and placed it aside. "Then why the hell did he accept to go on a date with you?"

"Turns out it wasn't a date."

"Well what was it?" Ethan never stopped doodling.

"He just... took me to his place so that I'd play with his..." he stopped to consider telling them about a nephew. Would they guess the man's age? Young people had nephews too, he thought. 

Problem is that, while he was thinking, his friends were only left with 'he just took me to his place so that I'd play with his...'.

"He what!" Stevo yelled, while Ethan dropped his sketchbook and pen.

"I told you we should've done something..." the artist shook his head in disbelief, grabbing at his hair, trying to calm down.

"What- I mean with toys-"

"Don't, Vergil, fucking don't! Oh man, oh Jesus, this is bad!"

"We must call his mom." Ethan tapped his pockets. "No, the police. Is your fucking crush from this college?"

"What's going on guys?"

"You don't get it Vergil!" Stevo whined. "What happened to you isn't normal, Gosh, it's not something normal! Fucking bastard taking advantage of your condition like that!"

Vergil snatched the phone from Ethan, clutching it to his chest and scooting a bit backwards to be able to look at them both. "Would you calm down and let me finish?"

"No, no, no!"

"Vergil, I'm so sorry." Ethan was covering his eyes.

"Who is he, I'm calling my people."

"Stevo, your suburban twats won't help Vergil's trauma. We must first explain to him that what happened was bad."

"I'll cut him up I swear I will!"

"It was his nephew!"

Ethan revealed his eyes. "... his nephew, too?"

"Good God..." Stevo whispered.

"Listen to me. I kept asking him out and he agreed to have me over only so that I'd baby-sit his nephew, who was staying at his place for the day."

Vergil had never said a more well-structured, coherent sentence. He was quite proud of himself. Didn't even stutter.

After the longest silence, they seemed to finally get it in their heads that Vergil hadn't been raped.

"... What a dick." Stevo concluded, sitting down and going back to scrolling through tumblr.

Ethan glanced at his friend with a sigh that said he didn't know why he was hanging out with him in the first place.

"Stevo, this is a wake up call. We still let our friend go on chasing his crush without taking in the potential dangers. We have to take care of him."

Stevo bowed his head. "I know..."

"Shut up!" Vergil felt himself get irritated. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"No, Vergil, it's not just about your condition, or multitude thereof. It's not normal for your mother and friends to not know about someone you're getting involved with."

"There's nothing to know okay? I'm never going to get-" he hiccupped. "I'm never going to get involved with him- w-with anyone for that matter!" his voice cracked, giving way to sobs he kept coughing out despite trying to retain them.

Stevo walked to him on all fours and then hugged the little guy to his chest, darting an accusing glare at Ethan. "Still think he's unable to love?" he asked, referring to what Ethan had once indeed said.

Ethan glanced away, remaining silent.

Stevo sucked at playing the guitar.

The notes were very... sad. Some stopped midway because of clumsy fingers, some were way too loud because of harsh pinches... It wasn't like he didn't have the potential to learn the guitar, he just didn't have the patience. Instead of learning basic chords or at least beginning with easy songs, he started with his favorite stuff.

Ethan had his headphones on, leaving Vergil out to dry. The artist was working on the never-ending drawing on Stevo's wall. It used to be covered with posters, much like the other walls, but Stevo cleared it in order to have Ethan work his magic. It was turning out great, with all sorts of tiny sceneries and characters and trees, a bunch of different species.

Not even a quarter of how many species Vergil knew of, but still impressive.

With Stevo focused on his potential means of torture and with Ethan lost in his own little world, Vergil was left facing his own. And his world was... sad.

He was in a constant struggle to keep from crying. It got to the point in which he was considering to willingly take his recommended amount of pills, just to get rid of feelings altogether. He wondered if keeping up with the treatment long enough would get him rid of his consciousness forever. He felt absent-minded and lifeless after taking them once in the morning, where would it go if he did it thrice a day for the rest of his life? Total absence... Sounded tempting just then.

Vergil glanced at his backpack, neatly placed on a chair, unlike Stevo's which was sprawled on the floor with its contents vomited out. He got up and walked to it, rummaging through the contents to find the medicine.

The moment he took out a container, Stevo put his guitar aside and yelled.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Taking my pills."

He must've said that right in the pause between Ethan's songs, because the guy heard him and pulled down his headphones to glance his way. "Good."

"Fuck off, Ethan." Stevo approached his hunched, tiny friend. "Don't listen to him, he's mature." he spat the word as though it was an insult.

"It's fine. I just kind of want to escape this..." Vergil murmured, already trying to unscrew the cap and failing to.

Stevo watched him struggle, his lower lip covering the upper one as he thought of something. Meanwhile, Ethan approached and undid the cylindrical container.

"Wanna escape this huh? Well I got you."

With that, he snatched the container from Ethan and walked to his bed, where he knelt and took something from underneath it. It was weed, naturally.

Vergil was going to go for it, and Ethan didn't say no etiher.

------------

"Whoa, Vergil is smiling, look at that!" Stevo wailed, eyes squinted shut.

"Am I really?" Vergil giggled, rubbing his cheeks to feel for the smile. He couldn't find it.

"It's eating up your face, yes." Ethan nodded. He didn't seem all too affected, just more relaxed than ever before. His shoulders were uneven and he seemed just about ready to become one of his deconstructivism pieces.

Vergil rolled his head back and sighed, causing the smoke above to disperse.

"You're doing great, bud, didn't even cough too much." Stevo observed.

"Yeah, I smoke cigarettes."

It took five minutes for Stevo to process the information. Ethan just frowned, tilting his head.

"You waht? Bullshit." Stevo said.

Vergil shook his head. "No, really, I do, I smoke since I was twelve."

"Who are you?" Stevo exclaimed.

"Who are you!"

"Who..." Stevo trailed off. "Who am I..." he straightened up his back. "I'm Stevo... no, Jeremiah." he looked at both his hands. "I'm... I'm Jeremiah..." his voice broke.

"Cut the crap, Stevo." Ethan said.

Stevo's face lightened up. He begun quoting his character: "You see, life is like that. We change, that's all. You see, the guy I am now is not the guy I was then. If the guy I was then met the guy I am now I'd beat the shit out of him. Those are the facts." he nodded vigorously. "Fuck Jeremiah."

Vergil, for once, acutally listened to what Stevo was quoting. He thought about it. Could he change just like Stevo- Jeremiah did, too? Become someone people like? Become someone... Mr. Janitor would like?

"Vergil, what are you thinking about? You're red as a banana." Stevo blinked slowly. "No, that's orange... but then what are oranges?"

"Is it your crush?" Ethan asked.

"Well, yeah."

The artist sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. "Just get over it..."

Vergil took the blunt, had a long drag and sighed it out.

"No."

Hello, dear reader! 

The rest of this book is available for purchase on amazon. You can copy paste this ISBN on any amazon region site (amazon.com/ amazon.it/ amazon.fr etcetera). I've been working on editing and illustrating this book for the past 4 years and so I hope you can understand my decision to direct people's attention over there!

Sending so much love, and hope you've been enjoying all of the free content I have here on wattpad since 2012 :)

ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8323756612

or 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D2J527L1

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