Escape My Game: Stanarrator

Reflection

Narrator paced around his office zoned out in thought. After Stanley was gone he didn't know what to do with himself. It took time to find another suitable protagonist for his story, and Stanley was the only one he made this all for in the first place.

Narrator sighed and decided he needed more space. He went back down into the office building and began to wander. Now, Narrator wasn't the type to do things without rhyme or reason, however, this time he felt like seeing where his feet would take him. He needed to allow his vessel to be on autopilot to clear the thoughts in his head. Maybe autopilot Narry has more of an idea of what he wants than controlled Narry.

Just as he makes it onto the cargo lift, a voice startles him out of his thoughts.
"'Perhaps I went wrong somewhere,' The Narrator wondered to himself, 'if only I had done more to keep him happy.' Yes, it is true. This was partially his fault."

Narrator opened his mouth to object when he was cut off by Curator, "However, Stanley didn't see how much he really needed Narrator. And Narrator for Stanley. Yes, you made a good decision setting him free, but now you're alone. Lonely. You want him back. So what are you going to do, Narrator?"

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Stanley tapped his pen on the counter as he waited for orders to be given to him. He had expressed how much he hated being told what to do to the narrator, but this time it was different. He had a real job, he got paid, and it saved him from being bored. It somehow eased the pain. He tried not to think about Narrator as much as possible.

The day seemed to drag on, like a snail making it's way across the road. It was slow, boring, and incredibly painful to witness. Stanley was itching to do something, anything to keep his mind from wandering back to the parable. Back to The Narrator. He didn't want to remember. It was painful enough as it was.
Stanley mindlessly doodled on his notepad just trying to fulfill his urge to do something. His hand moved on autopilot and it sketched things Stanley could never draw by his own command no matter how much he tried.

They were simple doodles, small and almost insignificant if you didn't know any better. Stanley blinked and snapped back to reality looking over his mindless drawings and notes. That's when, conveniently, one of his co-workers and friends, Fern, came up to him and gave a rough yet friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Heya, Stanley, whatcha doin'? Whoa, what's that?"

Quickly, Stanley ripped out the page and stuffed it in his pants pocket, his heart racing and face slowly turning red, starting at his cheeks and reaching his ears. Fern tilted their head to the side with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that about? Is this about the thing?"

Stanley lifted his hands to sign but he couldn't think of the right words. Besides, the jig was up. He knew it and so did they. His co-worker nodded in understanding and made a motion of zipping his mouth shut.

"We can talk after work if you're comfortable."

Stanley let out his breath he didn't even realize he was holding and signed, "Yeah, thanks."

His friend nodded and proceeded to tell Stanley about actual responsibilities they needed to be completed, to which Stanley gladly took up. Finally, something to do, he thought.

As quickly as he thought the day was slow, it was over as fast as it took for him to blink. The sun was turning the sky a deep shade of orange and red, casting long shadows along the warm earth below. Stanley finished up his duties in the back of the shop, cleaning the utensils, putting away extra cups and straws, sweeping and mopping, then finally locking up the café.

"Stan, you done yet?" Fern waved to Stanley and Stanley gave a nod and a smile before walking over to them and starting down the path home.

"So what was it about earlier? I know you had a rough past."

Stanley shrugged, "I didn't mean to draw those. I'm just in my own head. Is it bad that I miss him, Fern?"

Fern shook their head, they knew what it was like to miss someone like that. "No, I don't think so. You think you could visit him?"

"It's not exactly that simple. If it were I'd probably be there already."

Fern nodded and gazed up at the sky in thought. Stanley watched them for a moment before dropping his gaze to the pavement below their feet. His mind was filling with questions and no answers seemed to exist. He wished things were easier to understand.

"Do you think he misses you?" Fern at last asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Maybe. He was always a double-sided coin with his emotions."

"I might not know a whole lot, but I'm sure he does. Who knows, maybe he'll come looking for you."

Come looking for Stanley? Now wasn't that something to hear. But what if they were right? Stanley imagined the Narrator searching high and low for his (presumably) only protagonist. Did the Narrator even miss him?
Stanley was jolted out of his thoughts as the arrived at his house and Fern bid him a farewell.
Stanley smiled and signed he would see his coworker tomorrow. He still wasn't used to that. Even if time in the Parable was strange. It had still been centuries or millennia trapped in a perpetual loop of never ending madness.

Stanley shook himself out of his thoughts as he made his way to his room and flipped open his notebook-that had really become more of a personal log of events-before jotting down his thoughts.

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Narrator fixed the collar of his shirt and glared at himself in the mirror, his face reflecting back his wary expression. Even with a lack of pupils or irises, Narrator could still tell he looked worried. 

"What if he's already moved on by now? You know, the way humans typically do when they've been without something for so long. He could have already forgotten about me."

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet," Curator spoke with a softness that made Narrator feel like shrinking in on himself, "you know what the alternative is."

Narrator dropped his hands to his sides. He remembered full well what came next. But none of the others had effected him this much. Stanley was entirely different than the rest.
"I am well aware of the alternative. I... What if he hates me all over again? Trapping him in the parable for my selfish desires could send him into a panic like the first time!"

Curator frowned and moved closer, "You two have caused irreversible damage to each other, but you also learned to grow up together. Stanley may not be happy if you tried to trap him again, but I know you won't do that. Stanley trusts you much more than he did when all of this was started."

Narrator nodded slightly, looking back at his reflection. It was now or never. And never was not an option anymore. "Alright... I'm ready. I'll be back as soon as I can. Are you sure you can manage the parable while I'm away?"

Curator nodded, "Of course I can. Now go find Stanley. He's probably missing you just as much as you are him."

Narrator smiled a bit at the thought. Stanley missing him just made him happy because it meant he was thinking of him. Narrator's hair streak changed from grey to pink and Narrator made himself a portal out of his office and into the real world.

"Alright, Narrator, lets go find our protagonist."