Young Writers Society

*This origin is under my folder titled “The trouble of Carlos”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33”. This story has mild swearing in the middle. Other than that, enjoy!*

The air was crisp and cool with the scent of apple cider and sweet candies, the leaves crunched under his feet, his plastic orange Jack-o-Lantern face bag overflowed to the brim with candy, yet…Carlos Bardot didn’t feel the joy that he normally felt on Halloween.

He was walking on the sidewalk all by himself, the pale moon glowing ghostly behind clouds that streaked the sky. His scarecrow costume itched on his skin, seeming to want to mock him for Trick-or-Treating at twelve years old, without any friends to keep him company. He vaguely remembered having friends a long time ago, in Pre-K, but as he got older and had grown more interested in what was considered “odd and creepy”, like shopping at the local antique store and talking about episodes in an obscure 90’s horror show that he couldn’t quite remember the name of, other kids tended to avoid him. Carlos didn’t think he was that peculiar, but other people thought that way, so he spent most of his time alone.

His sixteen year old sister, Casey, was at a haunted house attraction with their parents. She wanted to do something more “grown-up” for Halloween, just like she did ever since she turned thirteen years old. Their parents had set a rule that once they turned twelve, it would be the last year that they would go Trick-or-Treating and after that, they had to find other things to do. They could still wear costumes, they just couldn’t go door-to-door and ask for candy.

Casey didn’t seem too bothered by the rule, but Carlos…how would Halloween be the same? Sure, he’d still be able to wear his costume, but there couldn’t be anything better than the thrill of stepping up to someone’s front porch that was covered in either frightful or fun Hallows’ Eve decorations (or both!), just to collect candy from strangers. On Halloween, he felt connected with all of the kids and the kids at heart in the sense that he could be his full, authentic self without anyone looking at him as though he were a pale, hunched monster, as though he were a soul-sucking creature purely because of his interests.

But it wouldn’t be the same after being twelve years old. He was certain of it. He didn’t want to go to any “haunted houses” because the jump scares would startle him and get his nerves all twisted and he didn’t want to go to the local farm that had crafting activities appropriate for babies and toddlers. Halloween was that time of year that either ventured towards “incredibly childish” or “unnecessary shock value”. For him, Trick-or-Treating was a perfect balance. He got to wear a costume and be rewarded with treats for it. He could be scared in a way that wouldn’t terrify him too much to the point where he didn’t enjoy his time and he wouldn’t be bored to death with scavenging for different houses.

The night was getting late, though. Carlos could see it in how the Trick-or-Treaters were headed home and feel it in how heavy the air was getting. He would wake up the next day and his last Halloween of Trick-or-Treating would be over. He’d have to find other things to do to spend his time, he’d have to…what would he do? He wanted to enjoy Halloween, but what was there to be excited about if he had to choose between “snooze fest” or “nightmares forever”? Why couldn’t his parents just let him Trick-or-Treat like they always did? Why did he have to be reminded of how he didn’t have any friends to hang out with on Halloween, on how he had no one to share his interests with, on-

He should be getting home. His family was probably getting ready to come back. He was already out long enough.

Carlos blinked away his tears as he walked down the sidewalk towards his house. He had gone a little bit further on his Trick-or-Treating journey than he normally did, so he’d have plenty of time to get rid of the tears.

Besides, change was nothing to cry about.

…………………………………………………………

Carlos was still walking down the sidewalk, headed towards his house. He still had a few more miles to get to, but he was closer than before. Both of his hands were in his pockets, his Trick-or-Treating bag was slung around his left wrist. Some of the houses had motion-detection sensors in their decorations and so, the decorations would either growl, cackle, or say some blood curdling sentence about blood and death. There were also a few Trick-or-Treaters still out, but for the most part, he was all alone.

Like he always did when he was alone and had no TV to distract him, his thoughts began spiraling and swirling over how he’d feel about his next Halloween:

Maybe Halloween won’t be so bad with the change. Maybe I’ll get friends to celebrate it with and have more fun than I did before. This isn’t anything to get upset about. I’m just growing up. I’m just changing. Halloween will still be fun, the magic won’t be gone-Is that my family’s car?

Carlos ran towards the car that was going in the same direction as the road towards his house, desperate to get a good look at it. He could have sworn that he recognized the blue shine and how the car was shaped, but could they really be back? Already? Wouldn’t they want to spend the whole night out?

Sure enough, as he turned the corner on the sidewalk and saw the car driving by, he could see very clearly that it was his family’s car. He could follow the car and get back home with the rest of his family! Maybe he could watch a Halloween movie with Casey if she was up for it! Maybe he’d share his candy with her as they watched a Halloween movie, relishing the season with another! Maybe Halloween wouldn’t feel so melancholy after all! Maybe-

Carlos stopped.

On the street was his family’s car, but smoke was billowing out from it and there was another car that had smashed right into it, as though it were trying to merge with his family’s car. A man in a zombie costume stepped out of the other car, his eyes wide, biting one hand and typing something on his phone with the other one, but nobody came out of his family’s car. Not his Mom, his Dad, or Casey.

Did that car really crash into his family’s car? He didn’t even see it! He was too busy following his family’s car…on second thought, he did hear another car driving, but he didn’t think that it would be fast enough to actually hit his family’s car!

His heart beat so hard in his chest that it felt as though it would stop at any second, his scarecrow costume seemed to scratch him even more, his head swam with the thoughts of what could possibly be waiting in the car, what could have happened to his family, what…

Was his family really dead?

…………………………………………………………

Carlos traced his finger along the surface of a box that had glittering rainbows and unicorns painted on it. Written in pink bubble letters at the very bottom of the box were the words “My jewelry making kit”.

Casey liked to make jewelry when she was alive. Sometimes, she let Carlos join her and then the two of them would make wildly vibrant bracelets and necklaces together. The overly girly jewelry box he held in his hand was just the kind of thing that Casey would have wanted, the kind of thing she would have begged their parents to get her even though she already had a collection of jewelry making kits in her room that still needed to be finished.

Now she’s gone. They’re all gone now. I still can’t believe that they’re all dead. Why couldn’t that guy just slow down? Why was he in such a hurry? For a stupid Halloween party or something? Maybe he was leaving a Halloween party and was too giddy to drive. It doesn’t matter, though. They’re dead because he wouldn’t stop the car, because he wouldn’t pay attention, because…

Carlos’ thoughts trailed off as he thought about how long he stood on the sidewalk last Halloween, watching the man feverishly talking on the phone, unable to do anything himself. The man had tried talking to him, something about calming him down or telling him to run, Carlos couldn’t quite remember, but when the man realized that Carlos wouldn’t say or do anything, he gave up talking to him. The man didn’t know that Carlos was related to the family in the car, that he saw his own family in a car crash…he stayed until the police came, then he had to go home…only, he couldn’t go home. Nobody would be there to unlock the door for him! The only other option was to go to his Grandparents’ house down the block, so he trudged on over…he heard it on the news the next day, saw their bloody bodies and petrified eyes on the TV, right before Grandma changed it to a monotonous weather channel, saw the fresh, marker-red blood spilling all over the carseats and-

No. He was at the antique shop, looking for something new to bring to his Grandparents’ house. He lived with his Grandparents, but he could make it just like his old home if he took the time to do so. There was no time to dwell on the past, he had to try and make things better for himself. It was what he imagined that his whole family would have wanted, after all.

So, he walked up to the cash register with the jewelry making kit in his hand, glad that he could find anything in the local antique shop, anything from ruffled clothes to human skulls, anything that anybody could donate from whatever collection they had, that he could find a jewelry making kit just like the ones Casey used to own.

Once Carlos made it through the maze of hulking furniture and life-sized dolls that crowded the antique shop and over to the cash register, he gently placed the jewelry box on the counter as though it were a bundle of rare, foreign jewelry and searched in his jeans pocket for money he stuffed in, money that he couldn’t put anywhere else except in his pocket because at thirteen, he still didn’t have a wallet. Dad always told him to get a wallet so he wouldn’t “lose any money that he had”. It used to annoy him that Dad couldn’t seem to trust that he’d take good care of his money without a wallet, but as he scrambled to grab the green dollar bills that had been folded countless times and very nearly ripped, he couldn’t help but feel bad for never getting a wallet, for failing his father somehow, for not taking good care of his money like his father said, for-

“Sorry about your family.” A boy’s-hold on, a boy?!

Carlos looked up.

Standing at the cash register was not a middle-aged man, Mr. Katz, like he was used to, but a boy around his age with warm auburn hair and light blue eyes like the sky on a summer day. He wore a black, spiked leather jacket over a simple gray shirt. He had a small, silver nose ring on the right side of his nose that seemed to sparkle underneath the dimly glowing lamps from a hodgepodge of different centuries.

He looked just like a rockstar, but goodness, why did he have to ruin it with the same words that everyone uttered when they saw him, as though words would fix it all?

“Everyone is sorry about what happened to my family, but it’s not like they’re going to magically come back to life with the word “sorry”.” Carlos spat out in a harsh, knife-cutting tone that he didn’t think he was capable of.

The boy flinched as though he had been struck down, he turned his gaze downwards, towards the cash register. He looked as though his whole body was going to crumple in on itself, as though he were going to melt within his skin. A tinge of guilt itched at Carlos’ heart upon seeing the boy’s reaction.

“I-of course, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I was just…I’ll stop talking now.” The boy said sheepishly, still not looking up from the cash register.

Carlos pulled out a few crumpled up dollar bills that he saved for the antique shop and slid it over to the boy. Maybe he was really trying to be nice and not saying the buzzwords that everyone in town would say to him after the news got out with what happened to his family. Maybe he didn’t just say his condolences just to say his condolences, without any real meaning behind the words.

Maybe he genuinely cared and Carlos caught him off guard.

The boy still didn’t look away from the cash register and the time was droning on. Other people would want to pay for their purchases at the antique store, they had to move past the extremely awkward interaction real fast and real soon, someone had to break the silence.

“I put the money on the table, so you can uh…you can put it in the register now.” Carlos said, his own words sounding like they were echoing off of a million walls.

The boy blinked as though he were pulled back into reality and grabbed the money on the table, his long, pale fingers closing in around the wrinkled-up parchment. His fingers were elegantly spidery, like a gaunt ghost bride who waited in glass mirrors, reaching out her yearning fingers towards the human on the other side, desperately trying to hold onto some form of life. The boy had silver bangles and bracelets on his arm that tinkled like wind chimes whenever he moved it.

Carlos’ eyes drifted towards the boy’s shirt. He hadn’t noticed it before, too busy studying the rest of the boy’s features, but clasped on the boy’s shirt was a white, metallic name tag that read as: “Beck.”

“I’ve never seen you around here or in school before, Beck.” Carlos remarked, for surely, he would have recognized a peculiarly pierced boy somewhere in the small, adventureless town he lived in.

Beck jolted his head up from the cash register, his sky blue eyes wide with surprise, then he chuckled lightly and said:

“I actually go to the same school as you, but I guess you don’t remember. That’s fine. There’s a lot of people at school anyway. Too many faces to count. As for the other thing, my father thought I was finally old enough to work here over the summer.”

Carlos felt his face heat up with embarrassment over Beck’s words. Not only did he snap at Beck when he was trying to be nice, he also didn’t remember him from school. Beck was probably starting to wish that he didn’t say anything at all, that he regretted speaking to Carlos, that-

“Did you say “around here”? Do you come here regularly?” Beck asked, his eyes flickering with interest, seeming to push aside Carlos’ poor excuses of a conversation. At least he didn’t seem upset. At least he didn’t look all-closed off anymore, that would have made Carlos feel more rotten than he already did.

“Yes, I do. I like it here, you’ve got a bunch of cool stuff…do you like working here?” Carlos asked.

Only mere seconds ago, he had snapped at Beck just like he did with everyone else, assuming that Beck wasn’t sincere, but in the few words they were sharing, Beck seemed like a pretty cool guy, albeit a bit on the not-entirely social side.

But that was something Carlos was used to.

“I mean, this is only my third day here, so I couldn’t tell you, but yeah…I like working here.” Beck said with a smile.

His smile made his blue eyes seem to glow and glitter with gems that multiplied. On the right side of his face was a very clear, deeply-set dimple, a sweet circle on the side of his smile. Carlos heard of dimples, but he never quite believed in the hype of dimples being “absolutely adorable” until he saw Beck with the one dimple on the side of his face, placed on his skin like a lightly dusted freckle.

“You’re going to be working here all summer?” Carlos asked, a small part of him hoping that Beck would say yes, that he’d get to see him and his single dimple again.

“Yes, I am. Why do you ask?” Beck asked, leaning on the counter with one arm, as though he wanted to hear Carlos whisper the answer in his ear.

“I was just hoping to see you around.” Carlos said with a smile.

With that, he left with the jewelry box, for he didn’t want to weird out Beck too much.

…………………………………………………………

Every day during that summer, Carlos went over to the antique shop. He and Beck would have more relaxed conversations, more conversations that didn’t have a thick sense of awkwardness in the air. As they spoke, Carlos came to learn that Beck also enjoyed Halloween to the point where he wished that his parents would allow him to Trick-or-Treat like he used to and he knew the name of the obscure 90’s horror show! (It was called “Gaunt Ghouls”!)

With Beck, Carlos felt all of his cares disintegrate away. He still thought of his dead family, but it wasn’t the main thing that was clouding his mind. Beck always had interesting things to say, Beck always knew how to brighten up Carlos’ day.

As the two of them got to know each other more with the long stretch of summer days that passed on and on, they’d visit each other’s houses (with the permission of their guardians, of course) and watch Gaunt Ghouls together, laughing at the ridiculousness of the characters or screaming from pure fright if a particularly unsettling scene graced the screen, for while the show was made in the 90’s, there was a certain eerie effect that the 90’s special effects brought that no other advanced, fancy special effects could bring.

It was on one August day when the two of them were in the basement of Carlos’ Grandparents-No, his house, he had to get used to calling it that-watching Gaunt Ghouls with Beck, that things had begun to change for him.

Just as he did every other day they hung out together, when the day was settling into the evening, Carlos rested on Beck’s lap, the TV screen beginning to look more like a dream as the seconds rolled on, as his eyes got more tired.

Except, the fluttering in his heart that was present ever since the day he met Beck became more apparent to the point where he felt like it was going to explode at the littlest things, like Beck stroking his hair gently, listening to his words without having anything distract himself, looking at Carlos with those vibrant sky blue eyes of his…

He’s just my friend, but then why do I feel like I’m going to combust with every sweet thing that he does? I like being this close to him, there’s no doubt about it…but can people really date at thirteen? Is that even possible? Like, I’ve seen it done in movies, but the teens in the movies look so much older than me and the other teens I’ve seen around here, so maybe they’re wrong about the whole dating thing. But living with him forever wouldn’t be so bad, because then I’d get to make him bracelets and then I could make bracelets for myself, matching bracelets of course and then-and then I could give him my blood in a vial necklace and he could do the same for me! We could be like the vampires in the show, giving each other blood and guts, not too much obviously or we’ll die…isn’t that what true love is supposed to be? Giving EVERYTHING to one another? I know that people SAY that vampires are bad, but honestly, the whole blood thing isn’t that weird. It’s just how they live. Does Beck like vampires? I hope so. Vampires are cool, they live and love forever without having to worry about anything. They have cool teeth too. Does he like cinnamon? I like cinnamon, especially when it’s on candy apples. It’s the perfect Halloween treat. Hey, matching Halloween costumes wouldn’t be that bad. I’ve got an idea! We could both be vampires, the vampires from the sho-

“You know, you’re really…really cool.” Beck said, but…

But the way he said cool had a certain echoing air to it, like he meant so much more behind the word “cool”. The word “cool” from Beck’s mouth that instance sounded like it twisted and turned in loops that had the same vibes as cursive letters being said out loud. At least, that was how Carlos imagined it, because it brought back that fluttering feeling he got when he first saw Beck’s vivid blue eyes, the blue eyes that were made all the more ethereal underneath the glow of the vintage lamps at the antique shop, that-

“You’re such a fun and nice person to be around, I don’t know why anybody wouldn’t want to be around you. When you talk to me about Gaunt Ghouls your whole face lights up like a Jack-O-Lantern! I don’t know if you realize it, but you look so glum most of the time that it just warms my heart to see you smile. Then, when you make me your bracelets they’re always the brightest and wackiest I’ve ever seen, but Carlos…that’s what makes you so wonderfully you. You’re not like any other person I’ve ever come across. You listen. You care. You’re different and that’s what is special about you.” Beck said.

Carlos didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to respond. What was he supposed to say? He never heard those kinds of words from anyone, not even from his Grandparents. He knew that his family loved him, but there was always this unspoken air that they all thought he was bent on becoming disconnected from the world because of his interests, there was an idea that his interests would push him away from “other kids his age”. They were right, but it still hurt to hear the words. He wanted his whole life to be told that he was special for being different, that he was special for being odd and yet in that moment, when Beck said it…

Carlos thought that he was dreaming.

“I’ve never dated anyone before. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’ve never meant anyone I’ve really clicked with before. It sounds corny to say it out loud, I know, but I click with you. You get me and I get you, it’s so strong that I don’t…I don’t want to just be your friend. Carlos, do you…do you want to kiss me? To be my boyfriend? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’ll live with just being your friend, I-“

Beck’s lips tasted like cinnamon, just like the candy apples Carlos liked. He must have eaten cinnamon candies, because the Halloween festival wasn’t open yet and the candy apples were only out in the Halloween festival and-

Beck kissed back, wrapping Carlos up in his arms, as though he wanted Carlos to merge with him.

If only it were possible, then the two of them could be merged together, forever and ever and ever.

…………………………………………………………

After that first kiss, the two of them still continued to meet up, only, there was a lively energy in the air that came over them, that seemed to make the whole world buttery and rosey in their eyes. At least, Carlos imagined that Beck was feeling the same kind of joy he was feeling whenever they met up, whenever they held hands, when they got lost in each other’s eyes.

When summer had ended and school had begun, they continued with their conversations, their hand-holding, and meeting up at one another’s houses to watch Gaunt Ghouls…at least, they did the last part together for the first five days of school. They couldn’t continue to do it after the first five days of school were over and done with because homework began to pile up, but their love was true and real, like in the movies, so Carlos would spend his free time writing love letters to Beck, just like characters in movies, letters like:

“To the half of my heart, Beck Katz-

I miss all the summer nights when we would lie together on the couch and watch Gaunt Ghouls. With you, every day feels like Halloween. All of this schoolwork doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things, because what will this do to help us in the future? Nothing, absolutely nothing. The only purpose of this homework is to drain us of our happiness, our joy. Adults give it out to us so we can become as miserable as them. But we won’t be miserable! We’ll keep our spirits high up with fanciful frights, we’ll make every time we meet like Halloween night. I can’t wait to run my hands through your autumn-leaf hair, to lace my fingers with your long, spidery ones, to kiss your cinnamon lips. I can’t wait to spend more time with you. Promise me that we’ll never break up, that we’ll marry each other when we grow up, that we’ll give each other droplets of our blood to put in bottles and keep close to our hearts, because this is the best I’ve ever felt in a long time and there’s so many things about you that I love that I cannot put into words. Being in love is such an amazing feeling, wouldn’t you agree?

P.S: I think we should be vampires for Halloween. We’d look pretty sick (in a good way) as them.

-From the half of your heart, Carlos Bardot.

He’d attach either a necklace or a bracelet he made onto the letter with a piece of tape and then fold the letter up. He’d then wait until the next morning to slide the letter into Beck’s locker and would spend the whole day waiting and waiting and waiting for the day to be over so that he could be dismissed and meet up with Beck at the front of school, anticipating Beck’s one-simple grin. Every single time, Beck would smile and tell him softly that he didn’t need to talk about the future because the future wasn’t something for them to worry about and that they might not always be each other’s “half of heart”, but Carlos didn’t pay any mind to his words, for if any bond of romance was really strong (and it was, he knew it), then it’d last forever until the dead of time. After all, Beck said it himself. He loved Carlos so much that he didn’t want to merely be his friend, so why Beck brought up the possibility of a future where they weren’t together was beyond ridiculous.

Nevertheless, Carlos kept writing the love letters, for writing them let him know that he was loved and wanted in a romantic sense, that someone thought he was worthy of dating, that someone his age understood him at a deep soul level that no other person could understand, the kind of soul level people got when they found the one.

But even with all of the articulate, flowery words he could up with and the wild jewelry he could make, as September was coming to a close and the days edged closer to October, he started to get a creeping, clawing idea that his words and bracelets weren’t enough, that Beck deserved something more. Something better.

What, though? Carlos did everything that the vampire couple in Gaunt Ghouls did! He wrote detailed love letters where he poured his whole heart out, he made fun little trinkets that Beck would like…

But the vampires always give each other dead animals. Sometimes they put ribbons on the animals to make them pretty. Sometimes they put jewelry on the animals to make them look funny. The humans think they are weird, but the vampires don’t care. It doesn’t matter to them because they’re in love. Maybe if I look for dead animals in our backyard, like birds and bugs, then wrap a bow around them and give it to Beck, he’ll appreciate the reference. He’ll stop talking about how my letters don’t need to mention the future and then we’ll get back to what we did before and-is it too much?

No, why would he ask himself something like that? Nothing was ever too much with Beck.

…………………………………………………………

From then on, Carlos would wait until after school (he didn’t want Beck’s locker to smell bad) to give Beck dead animals that he found in his backyard, most of them being birds and bugs, some of them being worms if it rained the other day. Just like how he asked Beck on what he thought of the letters he wrote and jewelry he made, he asked Beck about what he thought of the dead animals. Beck would smile and say that he liked them, but Beck’s grin wouldn’t be big enough to make the delightful dimple and his eyes wouldn’t glimmer like they did in the summer. Could it be that Beck was lying? That he didn’t actually like what Carlos was giving him?

That was such a silly thought! Of course he liked what Carlos was giving him, it was the kind of pure love that the vampires in the show would express to each other! Beck liked the same show and the same vampire couple as Carlos! It was just school that was making him all moody, nothing to worry about. Nobody was perfect, they were only human. Carlos couldn’t judge him too negatively like he did before, when they had their first interaction with one another.

So, Carlos would keep on writing his letters, making his jewelry, giving Beck the dead animals, doing everything he could to be a good boyfriend. He wanted to be as cryptically romantic as the vampires in the show, for the macabre kind of love was the most real kind of love. It wasn’t like manufactured cards and rom-coms with predictable endings, where they were slopped over with saccharine-sweetness. Beck wasn’t like everyone else who said they were “sorry” about Carlos’ family and then moved on once it stopped being “hot gossip”, once the man who had crashed the car paid the fine.

He loved Carlos and from what Carlos saw of the vampire couples, he wanted to make the effort to let their love thrive. He wanted the good days to never, ever end, no matter what happened.

So, on October 15th, like any other day after school, Carlos gave Beck a dead bird with a bow wrapped around its neck and then looped his arm around Beck’s, talking about how he carefully picked the color of the bow to match the dead animal, so that it wouldn’t be harsh on the eyes, as they walked towards’ Beck’s house and-

“I think we should take a break from each other.” Beck said, yanking his arm away from Carlos.

Carlos stopped. He thought about Beck’s sudden words. Processed them. Marinated in them. Then…

“You’re breaking up with me?” Carlos asked, hoping that he was having a vivid dream, that he wasn’t about to lose the half of his heart, that he wasn’t about to be told that he was wanted anymore.

Beck sighed and looked down, scratching his head. Why didn’t he want to look at Carlos? It wasn’t like when they first met. They knew each other, they loved each other. Shouldn’t Beck look him in the eyes when he was talking? Wasn’t that what nice people did? What people who cared about others did?

“I’m not saying that we should “break up”, I’m just saying that we need to…take a break from each other. Just for a little bit. There’s so much schoolwork and things going on now and…and I think that you need to…I think you need to spend some time with yourself. You know, like find yourself.” Beck said, throwing his head back and looking up at the dusky afternoon blue sky, the hand that was scratching the back of his head swinging at his side.

Why wouldn’t he look at Carlos? He had no trouble looking at Carlos before, so why didn’t he want to do it then? Was he afraid to see Carlos’ face? No, he shouldn’t be the one afraid. There was nothing to be afraid about. It was Carlos who had every right to be scared, because Beck said that he needed to “find himself” as though he were some deranged psychopath whose mind switched at the push of a button, who didn’t know his own skin and blood that covered his feeble bones.

He didn’t need to “find himself”, he already knew who he was.

“What do you mean “find myself”? I thought you said that you liked me the way I am! I thought you said that what makes me different is what makes me special and now…now you want to break up? Didn’t you say before that our love was so strong that you didn’t just want to be my friend? Why are you changing your mind right now?” Carlos asked, trying his best to keep down his tears, to not cry in front of Beck.

Beck turned his head towards the ground again, still not looking at him. Both of his arms hung limply on either side of him, like a poorly manufactured animatronic, the very same arms that held Carlos close on the night of their first kiss, the night they confessed their love to each other, the night everything changed for the better…and Beck wanted to end it all?

“I’m not changing my mind, Carlos. You’re not listening to me. I think you need time to find yourself, because while I do like you for being different, you can be a bit…much. Like, your letters were romantic at first, but then you started talking more in depth about us giving each our organs and blood. I tried not to think too much about it, but you wouldn’t stop calling me “the half of your heart” and giving me dead animals…it’s just creepy, Carlos. It creeps me out. I know you mean well by it, but I really think that if we spent some time apart and you spent time thinking things over, then we can get back together. I think that’s pretty fair, don’t you?” Beck asked, finally looking up.

He was looking at Carlos, but not directly looking at him. His eyes seemed to travel elsewhere, as though he were trying to fix his attention on something to distract himself from the fact that he was ruining Carlos’ life.

“Creepy?! Creepy?! The letters and the animals are how much I love you! It’s how I express myself! I thought that we were both going to be weird together and now you want to break up?! And don’t come at me with your “taking a break” crap, you’re just telling me that we’re breaking up without saying that we’re breaking up! I was having a good time with you a few minutes ago and then, out of nowhere, you say that we’re “taking a break”. Taking a break my a-“

“Carlos. Calm down. It’s not the end of the world. I just think it’s better for the both of us that we take a break. That’s all. You want a tissue? I think I have some in my pocket.” Beck said, rummaging in his pocket for a tissue, just like Carlos did when he first met him, looking for money.

Much to his horror, there were tears trailing from his eyes. But how could Beck offer him a tissue after he basically said Carlos was “too weird” for him?

“No.” Carlos seethed, regretting how he ever thought that Beck would be different.

“Are you sure? You-“

“Please go away.” Carlos said, his voice smooth but laced with his own anxiety.

Beck sighed, his eyebrows creased as though he were concerned, then walked away.

The nerve of Beck to worry about him after what he just said.

…………………………………………………………

Carlos brought the blanket up to his mouth, staring at the TV through blurry, tear-stained eyes. He was watching Gaunt Ghouls all by himself in the basement. His Grandparents were upstairs, sleeping. There was a bowl of halfway finished popcorn on the coffee table and a box of nearly finished tissues next to it. Crumpled-up pieces of tissues lay on the beige carpet like snow. He’d have to clean it up later, but he wasn’t in the mood to move at the moment.

It had been hours since Beck had broken up with him. He was trying to distract himself, trying to do something “fun” but all he could think about was how much nicer it would be to have Beck wrap his arms around him, to watch the show with him. Even under the blanket, he could still feel a chill in the air. Even with the TV on, his thoughts still circled over with how Beck wouldn’t look at him, with how easily Beck had broken up with him.

The overwhelming, vast sense of loneliness he felt the day his family died made itself known again. His throat had a throbbing pain in it, as though a knife had been lodged deep inside it. He didn’t have his parents to talk to. He didn’t have Casey to talk to. Casey always seemed to know more, she always seemed to have knowledge on relationships. She would have known what to say, she would have known what to do. She was always giving her friends relationship advice, so maybe she could have helped him and-

But it wouldn’t fix everything. Beck still wouldn’t want to be with me. What did I do wrong? I was just trying to be romantic. Didn’t he see that? Didn’t he love me enough to see that? Isn’t that what true love is supposed to be like? The teens in the movies I watch always get married when they’re older. They end up together, because of their pure love. So why can’t that be us? Why would Beck break up with me? Why can’t he just love me?

He could talk about it with his Grandparents, but it had only been a year since they had taken him in and he didn’t feel like letting the story be spilled out to his Grandparents. When his family was alive, he’d visit his Grandparents and talk to them about school and friends, but never anything too personal, like his…”unique” interests and his thoughts on dating. They just didn’t seem like appropriate things to talk about with Grandparents. They said that they were always around to listen and understand, that they were young once, but they had been young years and years and years ago. Time had changed astronomically since then and Carlos doubted that they truly remembered what it was like to be young.

But he couldn’t be sad forever. He didn’t want to be sad forever. He liked feeling as though the whole world was nothing but one infinite symphony of candy floss clouds strewn across the sky and his true love by his side, crackling flame-colored leaves crunching under his feet, the golden sun meeting the bottom of the Earth as though it would melt into a puddle that seeped through the concrete ground and settled into the shoes of anyone walking by, letting the sun’s warmth travel through everyone’s veins, a shared connection of contentment coursing through the blood of many…he just wanted to feel good, like the vampire couple on TV.

Speaking of which, Lady Nisha was crying over a letter she held in her black, lace gloved hands, a letter that her husband, Lord Abaddon, wrote. Lord Abaddon’s voice over was explaining that he had found another woman to love, a human who was one of the foul vampire hunters, who was hellbent on killing them both, only to refrain from killing Lord Abaddon because he “promised to change” and that he would kill all of the “bad” vampires. It was the twelfth episode of the tenth season and Carlos could feel his sadness begin to simmer over into anger. How could Lord Abaddon leave Lady Nisha for a human, much less a vampire hunter? They murdered people together and terrorized the group of kids who dared to defy them. Unlike other vampires, they gave each other their own blood and guts in moments when they wanted to express their profound love for one another and Lord Abaddon wanted to throw it all away? Didn’t he write poems upon poems about her beauty and her evil, her care and her carnage, her daintiness and her ferocity…Didn’t he love her?

But Lady Nisha put the letter on the nightstand. She smiled to herself, an action that brought shivers to Carlos’s spine, for her smile did not look right with her teary eyes and she said:

“We’ll always be together, my love. There’s not a thing in this world that could keep us apart.”

As the episode droned on with scenes of Lord Abaddon and the human vampire hunter, Carlos fretted over what Lady Nisha may do. How would she get Lord Abaddon to love her again? How would she win his affections again? Why was it halfway through the episode and Lady Nisha still didn’t get any screen time? What was she going to do? What-

The end of the episode was getting dangerously close. Lady Nisha was in the vampire hunter’s house, gliding through the halls in her lace black dress. Her face was covered with streaks of mud and dirt, her red eyes had a disconnected, lifeless quality to them, but she smiled gently, just like how an angel would, like how she would grin throughout most of the show.

Her lilting, wind-chime voice narrated that she had used her psychic senses to locate the vampire hunter and Lord Abaddon and that she was going to make Lord Abaddon closer to her than ever. How she would do that was unclear to Carlos.

He watched as she glided up the stairs, to the room where Lord Abaddon and the vampire hunter slept, his long, pale arm holding the woman close to him in a protective manner, sleeping as though he were human, as though he had adapted his lifestyle to fit the human’s and then-

Lady Nisha stabbed her claws through Lord Abaddon’s flesh, smiling as he howled in pain, tears pouring from her eyes. Normally, he was a match for her, but in that episode, he was weak to her monstrous nature, nothing against her.

Carlos watched, wide-eyed, gaping in shock. He had seen plenty of gorey episodes in Gaunt Ghouls, but he never imagined that he would see an episode in which the vampire couple would break up with each other, much less, one of them killing the other.

When he was nothing but a mound of bloody, torn-up flesh, Lady Nisha cupped her hands in Lord Abaddon’s dead body and drank his blood slowly, as though she were savoring every moment. She then pulled out pieces of his skin, biting it gently, delicately. All the while, she was smiling, tears continuing to drip out of her red eyes, the piano music in the background all distorted, the notes not quite right, but what about the vampire hunter? Wouldn’t she wake up? Wouldn’t-

As it turned out, the vampire hunter had a wooden stake underneath her pillow and stabbed Lady Nisha in the chest. Lady Nisha didn’t stand a chance, for she was too caught up in killing Lord Abaddon, but then…

She ate him. She’s with him forever. They’re both dead but they get to be with each other forever. Could it be possible for me to do the same with Beck? Is it even worth it? Could I do it? HOW would I do it? Should I do it? I mean, eating someone doesn’t sound so bad. It might feel a little weird at first but I’m sure that it’s fine, especially since it’s for someone I really, REALLY love. It can’t taste that bad either. It’s just meat. Maybe I could do it…

As the credits rolled for that episode, Carlos swallowed the last of his tears.

He might just have a way to get Beck back.

…………………………………………………………

As the days stretched on, Carlos pondered over the last Gaunt Ghouls episode to feature the vampire couple, trying to decide how “worth it” it would be to attempt to eat Beck, if he’d still feel Beck’s love, if it really would bring them closer together, like the vampires in the show. He’d have to find a way to hide the bones, to hide the evidence, he’d have to find a way to wash the blood off of him, to-

He didn’t have anyone else to hold close. To keep near. How terrible would eating Beck be if it was for love?

So, on the night before Halloween, when the crisp and cool night air was sprinkled with mischief and delight of the day that would come, Carlos wrote a letter to Beck, erasing the words “half of my heart” before his pencil could make the looping, longing letters:

To Beck-

I’m sorry for the outburst I had on Wednesday. I’ve had some things to think about and I really want to apologize properly. I think we can be friends if you want. I think we could be more too if you want that, but don’t do it if it’s too much pressure. I just want to really say that I’m sorry. I’m going to wait outside the front of the school tomorrow if you want to talk. If not, then let me know.

-From Carlos

He wanted to write so, so, so much more. He wanted to write the contents of his heart out, he wanted to tell Beck how much he loved him, he wanted to add their last names into the letter to make it sound like they were more connected, but he refrained himself and folded the letter up. He didn’t attach anything to it, it was just the letter. He would have to wait until the next day to get Beck’s reaction.

What if he doesn’t read it? What if he throws it out? What if-

But of course he would read it! Some small part of him would be telling him that Carlos wrote it, but an even louder part of him would be curious enough to open it and read it, to see what waited for him in thin parchment paper.

All Carlos had to do was wait. Patience was a virtue, after all.