Flor was staring through a window and into a shop. On the other side were televisions, stacked like books and decorated with 'ON SALE – LIMITED TIME' banners. The time between her staring and her dream was indeterminable. Her eyes were far too fixed on the displays. They showed videos of musicians and entertainers, all playing music she could only barely hear from across the glass. All of them were beautiful people, smiling like paragons, ornate and precise. Their eyes were joyful at best and hollow at worst.
In the reflection from the glass, Flor could merely adjust her eyes and stare at this face she found herself trapped in. If there was a girl behind her eyes that had even a glimpse of joy, it was buried behind the soundproof glass of her strange, new eyes.
A noise broke the silence, and it resembled a voice. "You," a girl said nearby in a nasally voice, "You the one?"
Flor turned her heard to the side and felt like her gaze had never left the mirror. There was a pack of girls identical to her, standing off to the side, staring at her like a piece of meat. They had the same black hair, the same uniform, the same jewel-green eyes... it was uncanny.
She didn't think, she just ran. In a moment, she was on her shaky legs once again, darting downhill from the pack. Flustered for only a moment, the group chased suit, screaming after her. "HEY! ... NATSUKI! ... STOP! HEY- ... WHAT THE HELL?!"
Flor knew that they might not know who she was, but she wasn't willing to take any chances at all. She kept passing by building after building, darting past store after store, person after person, farther and farther away from any recognizable landmarks that may help her find her friends.
Her breathing became labored. She couldn't keep doing this. The girls kept chasing, cursing at her, but it became clear from their voices that the group had a nearly identical amount of stamina.
There came a point where she realized she couldn't keep going. It didn't matter what was to her right, but she was barging in. Exhausted, she leaned to the right and entered the nearest establishment, stumbling across the ground until she was inside.
They weren't far behind. She only had a moment. She scanned her surroundings to get an idea of where to hide. There were instruments everywhere, hanging from the walls, adorning the shelves, and even a few on the floor. It smelled like mildew and sweat, and the carpet below her feet had seen better days.
A man was staring at her. He was behind the desk, eyes wide in confusion, fixing something made of brass. At first, Flor was taken aback, but it was only a moment before she remembered her heavy breathing and eyes shining with tears.
"What's wrong?" he asked, speaking with a voice that sounded like chocolate tasted.
"I... I want to hide," she demanded, running to the counter. "...P-Please."
"Right," he replied, "Get over on this side. Fast!"
He reached out his arms and she stretched out hers in response. In a moment, he had grabbed her arms and pulled her over the counter, setting her snugly on her feet.
Just at that moment, the pack burst into the doors. They were equally as out of breath, wheezing and bending over on their knees as they searched the building. Flor had knelt and was peering through the glass on the other side of the counter, wide-eyed, desperately hoping they wouldn't find her.
"NATSUKI!" shouted one of the girls, pointing towards the counter. The others snapped in the direction of her pointed finger, and within a moment, all eyes were on her. She felt exposed, and she imagined that crawling out of her skin and burying herself underneath the carpet was a preferable alternative to her current situation.
One of the girls pushed her way to the front and set her hands down on the counter. They all looked identical, but something about her demeanor reminded Flor of the girl in the front from back on the street. "Hey," she began, "Sir, would you mind helping us for a moment?"
"You want to buy one of our discount instruments?" he asked, pointing at a bin in the corner. "We've been trying to get rid of those for months."
She laughed. "Natsuki. Our friend. She's cute when she hides but we need her back."
"Who's Natsuki?" he raised, suspicious.
The girl grunted. "Her." She pointed at Flor. "Obviously."
He turned to Flor. "What's your name?"
"F-Florence," she replied.
The man nodded. "Right. Wrong girl. All of y'all look exactly the same, so I see where the confusion comes from. Y'know, that's my biggest problem with Chitotz – all the girls look exactly the same, have you noticed that?"
She turned around, and the pack began to discuss something amongst themselves. Flor slowly stood up, slowly moving so that she was standing partially behind the man. He was rather large, though it was mostly bulk, and she felt safe this way.
That's when the main girl turned around, a strange look in her eyes. She began to take a hand and unbutton her shirt, exposing a large portion of her upper chest. "Hand her over," she whispered, "And I'll let you have some more."
He didn't even flinch. "What are you trying to do? I have a boyfriend."
She froze, snorting. "Well, then." She tried to slam a fist on his counter, but something invisible held her hand back, as if a wall were blocking her back.
"We're now closed," he explained, "So if you and your friends could leave, that'd be great."
She scowled, turning around. "Screw you!" she hissed, leaving the store with her head high, the pack following behind, and before too long, the entire group had left the store.
He grinned. "Please don't."
Flor was still shaken up, unsure how to react. She stayed still, her eyes fixed on the doorway.
"Well," he asked, "You going to explain what just happened?"
She began to stand up, massaging the back of her left hand in her right. "I-I... I... I don't really know."
He nodded. "Right. Well, we're not really closed, so if you wouldn't mind, vacuum for me, and I'll let you pick out something from the bargain bin and we can talk about what happened."
Flor bowed. "T-Thank you for your kindness."
"Don't worry about it."
The man, who barely seemed old enough to be a man, stepped into the back for a moment and returned with a vacuum. After a brief explanation on how to take care of the store, he let her go, giving her the opportunity to complete a task alone with her thoughts. And that she did.
The store itself wasn't too large – no larger than Ryo's living room – and she found the task to be nothing short of relaxing. The sounds coming the receiving end ensured her that she was doing a good job, dust was being cleaned, and the slightly different shade of the carpet behind her comforted her and scratched an itch she didn't know she had. And the attributes of the man that took kindness to her were of the same nature. He was an odd shape, and his skin was dark, darker than anyone she had met up to that point in Chitotz. He spoke differently, too – as if his first language were something other than Chitotzish, but not Premierish. She couldn't quite put a finger on what it sounded like. But it didn't matter, she was finally safe from the group, at least for the time being.
When the floor was finally done according to how she was instructed to clean it, she began to instinctively dust the shelves with her hands and straighten some of the merchandise. So many things were off kilter, but she was proud of her work nearing the end.
She returned the vacuum to the man, bowing. "Here."
"You're Florence, right?"
"Yes; yes, sir."
He extended a hand. "Will Nicholson. Have a seat."
Flor found a nearby barstool and found herself sitting forward, hands folded and arms around her knees, holding her legs together.
There was a recliner behind the counter, and Will took this one. He lit what looked like a cigarette, but its shape was a bit different – larger and more plant-like. "You catfished?"
"...I... yes."
"So, some Natsuki girl is off pretending to be you and you're stuck with whatever she had, correct?"
Flor thought back to what the bartender had said about her leaving with Yenri. "...Yes."
"Now, are you ryoshi or joshu?"
"Joshu."
He took a sharp breath in. "No good. Your client didn't say anything about an insurance policy, did he?"
She shook her head. "He wanted to take us back after he was done with us."
"How old are you?"
Flor had to think about it for a moment. "I was created five days ago."
Will winced. "Oh, god. Yeah, there's no chance you've got insurance. It looks like you're stuck here until Natsuki gives you your identity back but trust me; you probably don't want it back. You don't catfish a joshu unless you want to throw them away."
She had begun to shake again. "I-I... I want... I want to go home again..."
He puffed a few more times on his smoke, the strange scent of it wafting over towards her. He leaned it, making deep, authentic eye contact with her. She looked up, squinting to hold back tears from flowing through again.
"Where's home for you?"
"I-..." she began to speak before she had an answer. She began to speak for a moment. "I do not know where my home is. I have lost all my friends. I do not know what to do until then."
"I tell you what," he offered, "I want to hire you. For real. You help me take care of this shop when I'm off doing DJ work, and I'll pay you. Not a lot, but I'll give you money. That way you can wait and find out where your client is and meet up with your family again. You can stay with my family unless you want to sleep on the floor in here. We've got an extra room. What'd you say?"
She considered her options. A wave of cold shot through her spine as she remembered how she came into this position to begin with. It was a deal just like this, with whoever that Natsuki girl was. She felt dreadfully alone, as if every decision meant the world. She instinctively wanted to call out for Yenri and ask her what her best option would be, but she wasn't there. The sudden gravity of her independence made her feel sick to her stomach.
"You want to just stay here in the shop?"
She nodded. "I do."
He frowned. "What happened to you?"
Flor looked down to her thumbs and began to twiddle them. "...I... I wanted to escape, but I hit a wall. This girl asked me if I wanted to get out, and I said yes, and then I was her, but... I was running away and didn't notice until it was too late."
"Any reason why she'd want to catfish- hold on, what did you say your name was, again?"
"Florence," she replied. "Florence Orleanaise."
He laughed. "The one that just made the news? Broke yearly records in audience feedback? No... Seriously, who are you?"
"I-I don't know who I am if that isn't me..."
He crossed his arms. "In my store... Hey, look, I've got another deal for you, what'd you think about guest starring in some of my tracks?"
"M-My voice sounds different, I... I-"
"Whatever you've got, I want it."
She shook her head. "I didn't do the music, I just danced and sang, I don't have anything you want."
Lifting a finger with the back of his hand facing her, he exhaled sharply. "Show me what you've got. Sing your song, we'll go from there."
Flor stood up. Anxious, she smoothed out the front of her skirt, even though it wasn't wrinkled. She shook her hair behind her head, cleared her throat, and closed her eyes. Then, she began to sing.
"I wake up-"
She stopped, choking on something in the back of her throat. Her voice was so nasally and shrill, and it was much harder to hit the correct note. She didn't sound pure and clean like a flute anymore.
"Well?" asked Will, "You gonna stop there?"
"I don't know if I can continue..." she whispered.
He swung a hand dismissively. "Keep going. Embrace it. Let's see how far you can go."
She became poised once more, titling her head to the side as if to rest her head on the air. Then, she continued as the bitterly ironic lyrics began to trickle forward.
"Everything's bright and crystalline as glass
And I blink
Wait a while, sit back, watch the hours pass
And it's cold and slow
Spending time below..."
She had begun to sway back and forth like a pendulum, though not completely of her own knowledge. It was as if the song was moving her, forcing her to relax.
"But it's good
It wasn't long before someone brought me home
And it's strange
Knowing that I don't have to be alone
Though I can't just help
Wonder ' ing what ' I came ' to this ' place for,"
Flor was getting more into it, letting her arms down, swaying from side to side as she did. She had begun to stand on the tips of her toes, performing what felt like nearly a twirl with every sway. Her tone wasn't perfect – she had hit a few flat notes, but the increased confidence had begun to challenge the flatness of how the song had begun.
"Yet it feels
Like everything's not real
Perhaps I should conceal
Everything behind a smile
Look
At all the scars I own
This has become my home
Look at all the moss I've grown
I see clearly past their gaze
Into the midnight haze
But in the mist I hear you say..."
She stopped, standing still for a moment. Turning her head towards the window, she couldn't help but notice that rain had begun to fall. It must have started halfway through, and her focus had simply distracted her from the downfall. Thoughts turned back to the joy she felt writing the song in Ryo's living room. It had felt like she had pulled that last line out of some cavern deep inside her soul, as if she knew somewhere that it would come in handy.
Flor spun, and as she did, she felt weightless.
After she was done, she took a short breath, bowing. He laughed a bit to himself, clapping for her. She blushed. "Thank you, sir."
He stood up, grabbing a set of keys from off the countertop. He wrote down some information on a sheet of paper and kept it where it was. "Look, you're just too cute for me to resist, so I'm leaving you about two-thousand enwon and a catalog, so pick out what you want." He then looked pointedly towards the bargain bin. "And take an instrument from there, nobody seems to ever want any of those. I'll be back tomorrow." He put his hand on the handle. "But keep in mind that my dad's an auror. Any funny business and you'll go to prison. Understood?"
Flor wasn't sure how to respond to this, so she decided to respond positively and then think about it later. She bowed once more. "Thank you for your kindness, Will-schi."
"Good rest," he said, closing and locking the door behind him, and at that, Flor was truly alone for the very first time in her entire life.
She sat down, staring at her hands, folded atop her knees. A clock ticked in the back of the room, the seconds slowing down with each passing tick. It wasn't particularly cold in the room, but she still felt chills. It must have been her mind giving her something to feel that she could understand, she figured.
She stood up, walking over to the bargain bin near the far, right-hand side of the building. The lights were very dim and smoky, so it was difficult but not impossible to see clearly. A few different instruments sat atop each other like leaves in a pile, most of which were broken. She got down on her knees and started sorting through them. One looked like a strange mass of levels and pipes. Another was like a mixture between a trumpet and a flute. However, the one at the bottom caught her eye the most. It was like a big box, two solid rectangles on either end connected by folded-up fabric in the center.
Flor picked it up and undid a button at the top. It opened, and as it did, it made a long, shrill sound. Surprised, she squeaked, but she didn't let go. She put her hands into two straps on either side, pressing in and slowly pulling out. It continued to make the same note. She stood up, holding it upright like a baby. On either end were buttons, their colors alternating between black and white. When she pressed them, she noticed that the pitch changed. One side played many notes at a time and the other side, the melody side, only played one at a time. This instrument made her smile. For some reason, she couldn't help but think that its shrill, nasally sound resembled her own.
Over the next few hours, as the resting hours came into full swing, so did her playing. She could only really play a couple of notes confidently, but it was enough for her to sing along to. She sang her song again and again, doing her best to replicate Yenri's keyboard and Ryo's guitar sounds with her new instrument.
Outside, the rain had died down. The light was always a pale blue from the sky, but it was getting darker with time. It was the resting hours; most people were asleep. But Flor barely felt tired. There was simply too much that had happened to let herself rest again, too much to process, and too much to distract herself with.
It wasn't long before she had discovered that the music store had a compact disc changer, and after playing with it for about ten minutes, she figured out how it worked. She listened to the first disc, and the music she heard was like nothing she had ever heard before. It was somber, even angry in parts, but the beat was so prominent that she couldn't help but feel good. It was all in a language she didn't understand, but it didn't matter. She soaked it up like a sponge.
At some point, she had decided to go to sleep, and graciously enough, this time it was dreamless. She awoke on the floor, the disc still playing through on loop. Her right arm and leg felt a bit uncomfortable, as the carpet had dug into her skin from her body weight pressing downward. As she sat up, she discovered that her neck was aching, and massaging it with her fingers wasn't doing much. The chair would have likely been a better place to fall asleep, but everything was fuzzy in her memory up to that point – perhaps she was on the ground to keep her awake so she could listen to more music, since the chair was too comfortable. She couldn't remember.
It must have been something like morning, but early. People weren't on the streets outside, and the sky was tinted ever so slightly orange. She didn't feel well. There was a bad taste in her mouth, and her hair felt thick and oily. Maybe there'd be something in the catalog to help.
She stepped over to the counter and flipped it open, going through the articles. Unlike the one Yenri had given her earlier, this one was advertising rooms. Each one had a cost – though it wasn't much – and a singular function. There was a closet room. There was a reading room. There was a bathing room. There was a room dedicated to watching movies. She was intrigued by this concept but wasn't quite sure how to begin.
After flipping to the front cover, she read aloud the instructions. "Hold your money above the room you would like to visit, and you will be given a maximum of one hour to stay. You may leave at any point by exiting the door."
An hour had gone by, and Flor had already dipped her toes in as many rooms as her money allowed her to visit. She had cleaned herself up, brushed her teeth and taken a well-deserved shower. She even had the opportunity to pick out two new outfits, a luxury that she mainly indulged in to ensure that she looked different enough from the other girls in the pack when she eventually would have to leave the store. The one she wore upon arrival was a long, ruffled blue skirt that sat just above her waist, paired with a white button-down blouse, cuffed at the sleeves and collared at the neck. She wore a blue ribbon in her hair and dark flats on her feet atop long, white socks that helped to smooth out the pain from how she slept.
When she finally returned, however, she was no longer alone. Will was there, as well as two others, both who looked very similar to him, albeit a year or two younger. One was a girl with a very eclectic sense of fashion, with so many colors and trinkets in her tightly braided hair that it was nearly mesmerizing. The other was a boy, or maybe a man, like Will, he straddled that line finely. He was wearing a jacket and had a very tight haircut, the silhouette of a dragon buzzed into one of his temples in a way that was almost impossible to notice until inspection.
"Flor," began Will, "These are my siblings. That's Ali and Kiki. Meet Flor."
Kiki ran up to her, eyes as glittery as her clothes. "Hello!" she said, speaking a thick accent, "I'm Kiki!"
Flor bowed for her. "It's an honor to meet you."
"Oh-" began Will, "They don't speak Chitotzish; they just know a few simple words. We're Quercasian. I'll have to translate."
"I'm Ali," said the boy, walking up with a hand ready to shake. Flor, confused, simply put her hand on top of his hand and stared up at him, wide-eyed. He chuckled, grabbing and shaking it. Then, he asked a question in a language Flor couldn't understand.
"Do you like dragons?" translated Will.
Flor nodded. "Yes," she replied, "Though I have only met one."
Ali responded.
"He says you've just met two," translated Will. "Ignore him, he thinks he's way cooler than he actually is. So..." He clapped his hands together. He spoke first in Quercasian and then repeated in Chitotzish. "How do y'all feel about breakfast?"
Flor nodded. She could go for some food. Somethingabout these people made her smile. There was a certain eagerness behind theireyes that she ever so desperately wished to see in another person, and she felthonored to play witness to it.