Mythical Shadows

Chapter 2: Far-Away Friends

The thought crossed my mind to not bring along my friends at all. Because really, were they my friends? Or were they just teammates? But, then again, the silhouette wanted them there—so I told them to come to my house at 11:30 p.m., a little before the rendezvous time.

When I woke up the next morning, I found a text from JetRaidz: "Do you want to hang out at my place at 1:00? Dia and Rohre will also be there." I accepted, but I also felt uncomfortable with how much I would need to socialize. But Jet suggested it, and I agreed, and they were good friends anyway . . . so maybe it'd be worth it, right?

Until then, I couldn't help myself from rereading the note from the silhouette. They wanted me, and me specifically—and they wanted it to be private. But what did he or she want? To provide information, like Sound_sercher2's location? To incriminate Hypixel? To begin another one of Sercher's plans to take over the server?

Whatever the rendezvous was for, I was excited.

Soon enough, 1 p.m. rolled around, and I was at the front door of Jet's house. I wondered whether simply entering would be a good idea. Last time, I had knocked and he said nothing of it, so I decided to do the same this time. Soon enough Jet opened the door and motioned me in.

"Hey, Flawed," said Rohre warmly as I entered the living room. I sat down on the closest couch, which was across from Dia and right of Rohre.

"Hi—" I croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again: "Hi."

Dia said nothing, but just smiled at me—a smile that made me smile. But I didn't realize.

"I'm glad you could come, Flawed," said Jet. He put a few things away, and then sat down on the fourth couch to my right.

"Thanks," I said, adjusting to be more comfortable. "Me too."

"So—how are you doing?" he asked, looking at me. I could tell that he meant the question. He seemed relaxed though—and I glanced at Dia and Rohre, and they seemed relaxed too—but the question did not make me relaxed in the slightest.

"I'm fine," I said casually—which was my go-to answer, because I certainly did not want to talk about myself. I could probably tell them about the note I had received—the thought of it buzzed in my head—but my mental state was my own concern, thanks.

"You don't seem fine, Flawed," said Rohre, sitting up straighter. "Jet said—"

"I said . . ." interrupted Jet, a little louder than her, ". . . that you're still thinking about what happened three months ago." I opened my mouth to speak—and it's not like I had anything to say—but Jet added, "Remember, all of us are friends."

"That's fine," I said. But in reality, maybe it wasn't fine: Of course I was friends with Dia and Rohre . . . maybe not friends, really . . . but the situation was making me feel vulnerable. Did he really have to explain my problems to them without my knowledge? And then to make me talk about those problems with them? "I didn't know this was a therapy session," I said, trying to make it sound like a joke, even though I didn't find it funny.

"It's not," said Jet simply. "It's a hangout with some friends. And you can talk about it if you want to."

"I don't," I said promptly. Maybe it'd feel good to be the center of attention, but was it worth the feeling of vulnerability and awkwardness? Yeah . . . no deal.

"Flawed, you're clearly secluding yourself," said Jet, leaning forward, staring at me with his impenetrable black eyes. "You're trying to cope with whatever happened, but it clearly hasn't been working over the past three months. I don't mean to invade your privacy—"