"Aw, no..."
Veneer moaned to himself, slumping down on his cot and facepalming in dismay. He was so not in the mood for this. He never was. And today it was hitting especially hard. Maybe because it had been exactly a month since his incarceration. Maybe because his attempt to speak to his sister had resulted in the throbbing pain that plagued his left cheek. Or maybe because of the haranguing speech that he knew awaited him once he left his cell.
He peeked a glance at the guard awaiting him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as if to say "Well? Are you coming or not? You may have all day, but not everybody else does!" They were usually stoic, poker-faced, and unsympathetic towards inmates' desires. Rightly so. Much of the prisoners were delinquents who, if shown even an ounce of freedom, would take it to the extreme. His own sister had learned the hard way when her request to have the ankle chain removed from her leg was surprisingly 0granted. The teen was quick to make a run for it, but even quicker to have been thwarted by the security. Veneer hadn't really seen Velvet around since, but from what he heard, she was taken into solitary confinement.
That was why he had made it his mission to be on his very best behavior. He'd speak when spoken to, eat the entire tray of slop that they called "food," and hit the hay as soon as lights out was called. He never looked for fights or started any, and mostly kept to himself. So maybe, just maaaybe, if he asked really nicely, he could get out of this.
"Say, you know what? I'm not really sure if I can do this. You think maybe we could pick some other time?" Veneer grinned, hoping he looked and sounded polite.
But the guard was unmoved. "NO."
"But... I'm really not feeling well!" It was a little true. Veneer's stomach was churning at the thought of leaving his cell for what was intended for him. In a desperate attempt, he clasped his hands together, stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and made his eyes big. "Pretty pleeeease?"
The guard had an unreadable expression for a moment, before he raised his walkie talkie up to his mouth to speak. "Increase the prison sentence for inmate number 8231978."
Veneer dropped and act and gasped. "What? No! Okay, alright, I'll come!"
The guard humphed, unlocking the cell door so the teen could exit. With cuffs secured to his hands and an ankle chain to his left leg, the guard guided Veneer down the hallway.
The former Pop-star suppressed a groan and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. This was one of the parts he hated about this. The 'Walk of Shame.' The glares he'd receive. The jeers sent his way. Veneer wished he could burrow himself in the ground if it meant he didn't have to see the dirty looks being cast at him. And if looks could kill... Veneer shuddered to think that he'd probably be dead many times over.
Among other treacherous felonies, it seemed Mount Rageons truly despised frauds. Veneer supposed he understood why. It broke a golden value that was very challenging to win back - trust. He needn't look any further for an example of that, not only with what he and his sister had done, but also for his own sentiments towards her now. The resentment over Velvet's manipulation... and the painful sorrow he felt in his heart at her stubbornness in refusing to ever speak to him again.
He focused on the sound of the clinking chain rather than the colorful words of the other inmates, and felt only a fraction of relief once he was out of that hallway and brought into the next room over. Veneer stared at the familiar tile flooring beneath his feet. It was perhaps slightly more welcoming in sight than the cell units, for its brighter lights and fresher smell. But that's where the welcome wore out. So far, this room hadn't been a place of positivity for him.
Veneer lifted his head slightly to assess the scene today. The booths were not as busy as it could be, which he was silently grateful for. The less folks to see him, the better. Inmates, all donning the same shabby orange jumpsuit he had on, were seated at them and already engaged in their own conversations with the recipients on the other end of the glass that separated them. He heard snippets of the chatting as he passed by.
"Six more months in the brig, can you believe it? Six months! I'll be old and wrinkled by then - "
" - and you can't even tell the difference between the chicken and the broccoli sometimes. Ugh, it's awful! How can that even be allowed? That should be a crime!"
"Friends? In prison? Pfft, come on, dude! This isn't gradeschool - "
Veneer attempted to swallow down the lump in his throat, and thought about who his visitor would be this time around. Maybe it was a Mount Rageon, reminding him of how they used to be a fan of his music until he turned out to be a phony, while he sat, quietly mumbling an "I'm sorry" that fell deaf upon their ears. Or, they could whisper about how they still liked him, and believed that the whole Troll-talent thing was an elaborate hoax to spice up the drama. Veneer hated that scenario more than the first, and he would get frustrated in explaining that his jail-time was deserved. Or maybe still, it could be his parents, there to chew him out and express their disappointment in him and his sister. The first time they'd come, Veneer had easily taken the verbal beating, but Velvet only had her anger spiked. He shuddered remembering the way she'd spewed a string of obscenities so foul, even a sailor would be put to shame.
Veneer didn't dare look up to see who it was at the booth when the guard told him to be seated. He just picked up the phone, and tried to sound somewhat alive as he mumbled into it.
"Hello?"
"It isn't as hip as your old pad, but at least it's something, huh?"
Veneer gasped, recognizing the serene voice at once, and whipped his head up. "Floyd?"
Sure enough, it was the teal Troll speaking into the phone's receiver. When Floyd offered a gentle smile, Veneer couldn't help grinning back. Floyd had that effect on folks, it seemed, one of shining positivity even in the darkest times. But that grin disappeared when he caught sight of the Troll's hair, a rich sweep of magenta... save for the significant white streaks that ran through it. Ones that had been caused by Veneer's own doing. The guilt bit at him, and the teen suddenly didn't feel comfort in his unexpected presence. "Floyd, what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean? I came to see you," he answered simply.
"Why?" Veneer asked, flailing his arms in a baffled manner. "If I were you, I'd be the last person I'd wanna see!" It was only when the guard standing at the far end of the room had shot him a warning look that Veneer realized his outburst had been too loud, and he toned it down.
"That's not true, Veneer," Floyd said, and then he smirked. "I'd say your sister wins in that category, wouldn't you?"
Veneer had to chuckle at that. "Yeah, you are so not wrong there."
Floyd laughed a little, too, and then spoke again. "But even then, I'm still gonna try to talk to her at some point, too."
"Good luck with that," the former Pop-star scoffed. "Anytime I've tried to talk to her, it just ends like this." He turned his face to the side a little so Floyd could see the ugly purplish bruise that was his left cheek.
The Troll winced. "Ouch."
"Ouch is right," Veneer whimpered, gently touching the injury in hopes that perhaps it didn't throb as much. Nope. Still did. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated groan, unable to contain it in him anymore. "So much for my sister not treating me like garbage. This has literally been the worst month of my life! Vel's never gonna talk to me again. This uniform stinks! And you can only chop so many rocks before it starts to get to your head..." He huffed and heaved a sigh. "You're SO lucky you don't ever have to go through something like this. You've probably never done one bad thing in your life!"
Veneer expected him to agree right away, but became curious at Floyd's silence, and the shamed look accompanying it. "Don't be so sure."
The teen cocked his head. "Wha?"
The Troll nodded. "I did something twenty years ago that I regret to this very day."
"Geez," Veneer said, considering the amount of time. He was hardly twenty years of age himself! "What happened?"
"I abandoned my baby brother. I promised I'd come back, but I never did..." Floyd's voice got quieter as he continued to explain. "Turned out he wasn't as well off as I thought he'd be. Our Grandma died, and there wasn't anybody else to take care of him."
Veneer winced. "Oof. Sounds rough."
"Believe me, he let me know," Floyd confirmed. "He was pretty upset. But then do you know what happened?"
"What?"
"He forgave me. Sure, it's gonna take some time to heal the hurt of the past, but we know we can do it. And I'm confident that you and Velvet can do it, too."
But Veneer disagreed. "How can you say that?" he blurted. "You've seen Vel. You'll have better luck talking to a brick wall! It's hopeless!"
Floyd paused for a moment, considering his next words. "You know, I felt pretty hopeless inside that diamond. You seemed pretty in love with all that fame and money, and whatever other 'bling-a-ding' you had..."
"Don't remind me," the teen whimpered, embarrassed for the selfish behavior he'd exhibited.
"And yet, you listened to me... didn't you?"
"Yeah..." he replied warily.
"Then I trust Velvet can with you."
"But you don't understand!" Veneer cried. "Vel and I aren't the same! Well... not entirely," he amended, recalling how he and she hadn't been so different when it came to their desires for fame and fortune. "Just because I listened doesn't mean Velvet will. That part of her that would listen has been long gone."
Floyd cocked his head. "What part?" he pressed.
"Oh, you know," Veneer went on, "the part that liked to make up bad dances, and didn't care if we sang off key, as long as we were having fun."
"Ohh," The Troll said, nodding in understanding. "But you never know. That part of her could still exist."
Veneer gave a dry laugh. "Yeah right."
"I'm serious," Floyd said. "She's still there. You just gotta help her find it again."
The teen eyed the Troll. "You really, truly think that's possible?"
"Cross my heart, hope to die."
"Let's hope not," Veneer said, feeling a shudder go down his spine as he remembered the way the Troll had gone transparent and nearly succumbed to death. But then he thought about what the magenta Troll said. Velvet being that sister she once was? It would be wonderful. "I guess she's been a diva for so long, I never thought it'd be possible for her to change..."
"It is," Floyd assured with a smile. "It really is."
Suddenly, a ping resounded, and he looked down at the bracelet on his wrist and gasped. "Oh! I promised my brothers I'd be only fifteen minutes. Otherwise, they wouldn't have even let me come. They're outside waiting for me. I'm sorry."
Veneer nodded. "It's all right, I understand. You don't have to apologize."
"Thanks. It was nice talking to you," Floyd said sincerely. "Ooo, and make sure you check the mail! The letter I sent should have arrived today."
Veneer nodded again. "Oh! Okay, I will. And it was nice talking to you, too!"
Floyd smiled, and was about to head off, when Veneer stopped him. "Wait! I, um... do you have a quick second? I've been working on something... I was kinda hoping you might wanna hear it?"
As Floyd glanced at him expectantly, Veneer cleared his throat, suddenly second-guessing himself. What if he sounded awful? What if Floyd laughed at him? Regardless, he'd already stopped him, so he had to follow through. The song flowed out of him softly at first, his voice cracking a couple of times and making him inwardly cringe. But soon his voice became stronger, the notes rich and beautiful. When Veneer was done, he was met not only by applause from Floyd, but from the other inmates and recipients at the booths as well! He blushed as Floyd offered his compliments.
"That was great!"
"And I swear it was all me," Veneer hurriedly explained. "No talent-stealing here!"
Floyd chuckled. "That's good. You really do have some real talent."
Veneer shrugged. "Guess I just had to work hard at it."
Floyd gave him a thumbs up. "Right." Then he turned to go. "I'll see you around, Veneer."
The Troll waved, and he waved back. A sense of uplifting filled Veneer. He was in slightly better spirits than he had anticipated himself to feel, and was glad for it. On his way back to the cell, he questioned the guard on any mail delivery for him, and true to Floyd's word, one letter, sealed with the BroZone lightning emblem, was awaiting him.
Veneer didn't waste a minute as he tore open the envelope and began to read:
Veneer,
It's amazing how time passes by so quickly. I can hardly believe it's already been a month's time since the incident, of which I don't believe you need me to mention for you to know what I'm talking about. But, I AM going to mention it anyhow, as it was an experience which has produced great effect. I also see this as an opportunity to debunk or confirm any assumptions you may have regarding me on the matter.
Spending two months encased within a small, and rather uncomfortable diamond imprisonment was, to put it bluntly, an awful experience for me to have undergone, as I'm sure you can imagine. I can't lie there, or try to sugarcoat anything. Matters were not helped when you were under the impression that this was a necessary thing to do. But shortcuts can sometimes be more 'cut' than 'short,' as came to be you and your sister's case. But this is not to say that cuts can't heal. With time and learning they can, and from there, things are bound to get better.
In the same manner that everyone deserves to be treated kindly, everyone also deserves a second chance. I can't say that the first impression you left of me was a good one, but have an inkling that my sentiments will change in the near future. Know that you are forgiven for your actions, so long as you understand where your mistakes were, and so long as you have learned from it. I know I can't make you heed to any advice that I or anybody else may give you, though I strongly recommend taking it, for your own benefit.
I have been on my way to recovery from everything, and am living with my brothers. If you are interested, I can speak to the prison management team and see if we could get you work release at my older brother's cantina. It's on a beautiful little island that I think you will find quite becoming (plus, it has a karaoke stage!)
By this point, I would imagine that we would have already spoken to each other, and, should the conversation have gone the way I envisioned, I believe that we can likely look forward to speaking again.
Your friend,
Floyd
P.S. If you choose to respond to this letter, send it out attached with the postcard in the envelope. Trust me, it will get there :)
Veneer wondered what he meant by that last part, and soon understood when he pulled out the said postcard - with no return address or sender information. But, he shrugged it off. If Floyd had said it would get there, then surely it would get there! And so, Veneer got to work composing a return letter, finishing it with just a few seconds to spare before lights out. The letter looked something like this:
Floyd,
It was unexpected seeing you today. If I was in your place, I would have just moved on with my life and not looked back - especially at the guys who captured me. I want you to know that I am very, VERY sorry for what I did to you and regret it very much. You can take my word that I will never do something like that again to anybody. I was too afraid to say anything about it to my sister before, but now she knows where I stand on this. I hope you're right and that she will come around one day...
I'm glad to hear that you are recovering and hope that you continue to regain your health. I think that work release idea sounds great! (Although, I've never been to an island before... do you mind telling me a little bit about what it's like?)
I was afraid to talk to you at first, but I actually did like the turnout of it and, if you have any time to spare in the future, I really would like for us to talk again!
Sincerely,
Veneer
P.S. Gonna try and have the full version of that song ready by the time you come back :)
__________________________________________________
A/N: I like the idea of Floyd and Veneer becoming friends after the whole ordeal