Tristan sat on the edge of the bed as Bambi hooked the videocassette recorder to the hotel's TV. The dark-haired man could only bury his face in his hands, thinking over everything. He couldn't believe this whole time he'd been living a lie. He couldn't believe the story his foster mum made up about his parents. How could she look him in the eyes and tell him that story? It sounded so believeable, and she sounded so hurt to tell him of his past, like she actually cared about him. Neither of his foster parents cared about him. They constantly fed him lies without caring.
"This is tape number one," Bambi explained as he slipped it into the slot.
He clicked play, pulling himself onto his feet and plopping down beside the blue-eyed man as a low quality sixteen-year-old him showed onto the screen. Tristan widened his eyes. He never remembered recording the video. He didn't even remember the background behind his head.
"Hello, Me," he spoke, a sigh crossing bruised lips. He ran a hand through his short blond hair before forcing a smile and continuing. "Right now, you're most likely confused why this video exists. You most likely don't remember ever recording this, and if you don't, then I suggest you to keep watching -"
"Wait," Tristan interrupted. He scurried off the bed, pausing the video before teenage him had a chance to utter any further words. The older boy sat in silence, trying to concentrate on breathing as Bambi slowly lowered on the floor with him.
"Tristan?" the curly-haired boy questioned. "You stopped yourself."
"I'm just not ready," he quietly admitted.
"For what?"
"Finding out." Tristan looked into his concerned eyes. "I don't want to know what I'm going to say. I just found out my mum is actually alive today, and I don't know. I'm not ready."
"I understand." Bambi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We do not have to watch it right now."
The blue-eyed man nodded, closing his eyes and thinking. Ever since the "psychologist" his life had seemingly shot into fast forward. Even when he slept he felt like too much was happening. His life had changed so drastically in under such little time, the dark-haired boy forgot what it was like to have sanity and relaxation even for a minute.
Tristan turned to the small boy beside him questioningly eyeing the older man. He sucked in a breath. This was a bad idea, but Tristan suddenly felt something -something inexplicable. All he could do was follow his conscious, taking a hold of the brown-eyed boy's hand and gently running a thumb over it. "Can I do something?" the twenty-one-year-old asked.
Bambi looked down at their hands, and then to Tristan. "Sure."
Carefully, Tristan placed a hand on the smaller boy's knee. He looked up at him, watching his eyes as his hand slowly slid up his thigh. The younger boy chuckled. "Is this okay?" Tristan asked.
"Your hand is warm," Bambi happily commented, nodding in response. "Is this all you wanted to do?"
The blue-eyed man shook his head. "You have to close your eyes now, Bambi."
"Is this a surprise?" the twenty-year-old excitedly questioned, eyelids fluttering closed. He smiled widely as the older boy hummed in response. "I love surprises!"
Tristan placed two hands on his shoulders, eyeing the wide, innocent smile on his face. He realised he couldn't do this. He felt like he were tricking the confused boy into doing something that he didn't understand. "Ready?" the dark-haired boy asked. Bambi excitedly nodded before Tristan leaned in and pecked him on the nose.
The curly-haired boy chuckled happily, opening his eyes and slapping a hand over where he'd been kissed. "Thank you, Tristan! You are next."
"Okay"-the older man crinkled his nose, leaning towards Bambi-"go for it."
"No, Tris, you have to close your eyes, too."
Tristan followed his instructions, fluttering his eyes closed and waiting, nose scrunched. He could feel Bambi's face leaning into him to kiss his nose, but then a hand slid on his cheek, and as his brows pulled together in confusion, their lips were suddenly together. Tristan's eyes popped open in shock as the small boy's lips moved against his slowly, but surely, like he'd done this before - plenty of times. The twenty-one-year-old could only sit frozen, eyes wide open, until Bambi pulled away, obliviously licking at the innocent smile on his lips.
"Are you ready to finish the tapes now?" he asked as Tristan brought his hand to his own mouth in shock, brushing his fingertips across his lips. "What is wrong, Tristan?"
"You kissed me."
"Yes"-he blinked-"did you not enjoy it?"
"I..." the dark-haired boy trailed off, realising - strangely enough - he did enjoy Bambi's lips against his. They were soft and warm and... familiar. "This is bad," Tristan panicked. "We're not supposed to kiss and like it."
"Oh." Bambi frowned. "Then how do I make you not like it?"
"Let's not speak of this again," Tristan instructed. "Okay? This never happened."
"Never happened," the small boy confirmed, even though he seemed confused. Tristan wondered where he'd even learned that. He was so confused about everything else. How could he know something as random as kissing?
"Let's... watch the tapes now," Tristan reluctantly decided, slowly crawling back onto the bed. He still wasn't ready. How could he be ready? Whatever sixteen-year-old him said, it'd change everything for Tristan. He wasn't sure if he were prepared for any more surprises today, but Bambi was already clicking rewinding it and clicking play, returning to his position beside Tristan.
"Hello, Me," he repeated. "Right now, you're most likely confused why this video exists. You most likely don't remember ever recording this, and if you don't, then I suggest you to keep watching."
Tristan sucked in a deep breath.
"I don't know what you're like now, how old you are, or what's happening in your life, but there has to be a possibility you're still me in there somewhere, yeah?" He paused, like he were expecting an answer. Tristan could already tell that this person was nothing like him. He sounded strong and confident, two antonyms of the words that described Tristan. "But there's something that's unfinished, and no matter what point in life you're at right now, you're the only person that can finish it. Right now the government are trying their best to stop that from happening. With the information I know, it makes me more powerful than them, and if I spread it to public they're in trouble.
"I don't know how one can rob someone of their memories, but this is the only explanation that I can think of for a memory loss. So, firstly I want to introduce you to yourself. You're Tristan Oliver Vance Evans. You were born in Exeter on the fifteenth of August, nineteen ninety-four. Your parents are unhappily married with three children - Millie, James, and you. Your sister, Millie, died when you were fifteen, and you don't see your brother that much, but it doesn't bother you. You love raspberry tea and you want to move to a nude community when you leave the house and you really want to learn to play the tuba and learn how to speak fluent Russian with no reasonable explanation, you just do, and July twelfth, 2010 - five months ago from this video - you met the love of your life in the strangest circumstances, but you haven't let your differences get in the way of your love.
"Your biological parents are a part of the government. Sometimes they take you to the headquarters and let you roam around, because they trust you a little too much and they're too busy for you. During one of your explorations on the twelfth of July, you discovered a lab. It was interesting, because it seemed like the lab was purposely located to not be found. You figured out why. The lab is where the government perform experiments on innocent humans. And it's not even for something reasonable. They're experimented on to see how far technology can take them - for military use.
"I'm not a scientist, but I'll explain this the best way I can... Not long ago, scientists discovered a way to create artificial human brains. In order for this science team to test if their artificial human brains will actually be beneficial to humankind, there had to be someone to test it on—that's where the experiments come in. These artificial brains create a computerised environment where human minds can be uploaded. The government have decided to use this method for the military. They've been trying different methods to make a person stronger than an average human being their size and terribly emotionless. You can see why these are only experiments. The boy you fell in love with was full of so many emotions. He was one of the many first section of people whose lives were basically taken away from them, which means he had it worse. At first, the only humans selected were who no one would expect to be dangerous. They aren't muscular and they aren't scary. They're normal, and not supposed to be seen as a threat. A few were kids - just like him.
"The experiments are of course supposed to be secret, but when you sunk into the lab, you happened to meet the most beautiful boy the universe could ever create. The GBI gave him the name Nineteen-Seventeen -"
"Hey, thats me!" Bambi happily exclaimed from beside him. The twenty-one-year-old shushed him, dyed eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"- But after you went through a shitload of files, you found out his birth name is Bradley Will Simpson, and he's eleven months younger than you. He's a sweetheart and he's so intelligent and j-just wonderful. You two had the chance to get to know each other over the course of two months, and after you realised the cruelity of the government, you decided to help Brad escape, and then return so you can help the others. You two successfully ran away December fifth, but the government refuse to let you two slip away from them so easily.
"Tristan, I am sixteen-years-old, and I am not giving up, I am simply just letting what will happen next, happen. They're coming for Brad and I. There's a tracker in Brad's wrist, but we've only found that out now, and we deactivated it, but... apparently they're smarter than we thought.
"It is now up to you, Tristan, to finish what you've started. I have another set of tapes that provide important information to help you get to the headquarters, how to get inside, and free the victims from the lav. And also, the set of tapes include various evidence and a full explanation. Anonymously send it to as many political magazines you can think of. You have to educate the whole world on what is happening so you won't be forced to face this alone.
"Remember, Tristan, you're saving the love of your life, you're saving normal people who were tinkered with and victimised, and you're saving possible victims in the future. The future of the country is in your hands. Don't let everyone down, don't let Brad down, don't let me down. Good luck."
Tristan stared blankly at the screen with wide eyes as it faded to black, leaving the two boys to digest all the information. He couldn't believe this. He didn't understand anything. Tristan shook his head at the TV. This had to be a joke. The twenty-one-year-old was just a normal guy, and the woman he'd met hours before seemed nothing like she was a part of the government. It would explain a lot, like the dreams he'd been having and his "foster mum" attempting to arrest Bambi, but the country couldn't possibly be in Tristan's hands. If sixteen-year-old him knew anything, he'd know that Tristan was a coward.
He kept repeating the words his teenage self had spoken to him. It was like he were watching a different person - a person fearless and confident, strong and ready to take on anything thrown at him. But Tristan was so fearful of everything. He was so insecure about everything and nothing like the boy in the video.
"My name is Brad?" the brown-eyed boy questioned from beside him. He furrowed his brows at the twenty-one-year-old. Tristan slowly looked at him. He'd forgotten the small boy was even there. "My name is Bradley Will Simpson... We knew each other before. I - what?"
Tristan could only suck in a breath. It wasn't easy hearing that once you were in love with the most annoying boy you'd ever laid eyes on. But as Tristan took in the twenty-year-old beside him, he realised he wasn't that surprised.
"I'm confused," the dark-haired boy whispered. He brought two hands to his temples, massaging his fingers into them. "This is too much at once. I feel like I'm going to throw up."
"I do not know what I feel like," Bambi admitted. "I do not know how to react. I am not even human, Tris."
The blue-eyed man furrowed his brows at the tear streaming down the younger boy's face. "Of course you're human," he said, brushing the pad of his thumb along his cheek. "You're just a human who was... tinkered with."
"I am not even human," Brad repeated, like everything he'd said went through one ear and out the other. Slowly, he pulled himself onto his feet. "I need to go."
"What? Where are you going?" Tristan questioned.
"I just need to think," the curly-haired boy murmured, taking one of the hotel room keys and rushing towards the door.
"Bambi, stop!" Tristan quickly jumped up onto his feet, locking his fingers around the smaller boy's wrist, but the curly-haired boy automatically shoved him off, sending the dark-haired man flying backwards onto the floor.
Fear swam in Brad's eyes, like he were suddenly afraid of himself. He began fumbling with the doorknob, tears dripping off his chin. "I need to go," he whispered, yanking the door open and rushing out into the world. Tristan had no idea what to do. So he just helplessly lied their on the floor, back aching as Brad left to digest the new found information by himself.