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Part Two: The Arcade

With his backpack and heavy hoodie stashed in his hotel room, Otto grabbed his skateboard and headed downtown.

It was surreal. He felt almost normal. Skating past the locals as the morning creeped towards noon. More people were about, and he almost seemed just like any one of them. Battle scars aside. He could pretend, if nothing else. But deep inside, he knew he was different. The voice in his head helpfully reminded him that he wasn't really one of them. He wasn't a normal teenager. Never was, never would be.

He skidded to a stop outside the arcade. Places like this were hard to find nowadays. He'd had to do a lot of digging to find a city that had one. Inside, it was fairly busy. Busy enough he didn't feel like he was being watched. He blended in well enough.
Let the games begin, right?
However, with each game he played, he began to realize something. None of it was fun. Not the shooters, not the racing games. Not even the silly dancing game. Much like his love for drumming or singing in the shower, these too were hobbies that didn't seem to make him happy anymore.

It scared him. Why wasn't anything fun anymore?

Otto left the arcade earlier than he'd thought he would. He barely spent an hour there. Instead, he found himself sitting near a curb, rolling side to side on his board. This was boring. Lonely, boring. How was he supposed to make himself forget everything if he couldn't even have fun?

This was bad.. something was wrong..

Part 4: Bed, Bath and Beyond

In that case, he'd have to buy things for the one thing that brought him a sliver of comfort. His apartment.

It was his shining accomplishment. His fortress of solitude. What was one more duvet? Another few dozen pillows and comforters? Anything that looked fluffy enough to sink into, brightly coloured enough to make him even a little bit happy. He'd buy it.

New towels. New linens.

And onto the next store...

Part 6: The Hotel Room

Piles of bags were cascaded across the floor. Shopping bags of clothing from a variety of different shops. Large bags and packaging that held his new duvets and pillows. Smaller bags with new jewellery to wear; necklaces and chains, new earrings, a couple fashion rings and even a new wallet. Odds and ends. Trinkets.

Otto flopped over on the bed, staring out the large window overlooking the city as day turned to night. For a moment, he thought of nothing. Sweet silence was all he had to deal with. But then his mind started to whir once again. All that had happened, all that would soon come to be. Everything that was weighing him down, pulling his soul into a dark and dreary place.
Nothing was fun. His life was turning to s**t. His best friend was going to die. Just like everyone he got too close to. They all left him, eventually.

Once the tears came, there was no stopping it. He had no reason to hold back, no reason to pretend he didn't care. He gave in to his miserable feelings, and every spec of restraint he usually used to keep his emotions in check was cast aside. There, surrounded in everything his money could buy, he did nothing but cry for what might have been nearly an hour. It hurt. Physically, emotionally it tore him apart. But he needed it. He needed to cry with abandon like this. He curled up into a ball, his arms tightly wrapped around his stomach.

Tenya couldn't provide more than soothing murmurs for her host. After all, she couldn't be there for him like someone of flesh and blood could. A voice in his head was little more than just that. He was lonely, and felt abandoned. She was just a voice. A weapon. She served to keep his physical being in tact, even when every other inch of him just wanted to collapse and give up.

There came a point where his eyes were too raw and dry to produce tears. His throat too sore to make any more sounds. Sniffles and hiccups were all that remained now. And a grumbling stomach that demanded dinner, even if Otto felt his appetite wasn't up to the challenge.

A room service call and a few ordered movies on the Hotel's TV later, Otto sat watching the latest releases from the last few months. Miserably and slowly he chewed on a pizza, his eyes red and drooping, barely interested in the movie.

Part 8: Tags

More radio. More singing. He sifted through all his shopping bags, pulling tags off of the clothing he'd bought so he wouldn't have to deal with it later. A bag of burgers sat at his side from a short outing into the world.

It was odd. He'd gone on vacation, thinking he'd do something exciting, but all he wanted to do was mundane things like eat burgers and cut tags off of his new stuff.

Maybe he'd do something cool later. Yeah. Later.

Part 10: The Mall

He wasn't keen on going out again, but there was more shopping he needed to do before he left the following day.
The first stop was a book store. He needed more books, since he'd been reading the same ones over and over again. He scrounged through the teen section for things up his alley, quietly looking over their summaries. He didn't feel rushed. He didn't feel watched. From row to row, he picked up anything he thought might stir his fancy.

An armful of books teetered as he walked around, barely able to keep them all in his arms. Otto set them all down in a pile every time he wanted to look at another book. He felt like a total dweeb, balancing books like this. But books beat staring at walls or thinking while on downtime in the island.

His book store adventure was near an end, when he passed by a small art section. He liked to draw, but never did much of it because of his 'profession'. An attractive leather bound sketchbook had his interest. Why not?
He bought the books, the sketchbook, and a package of new pencils. And a book bag to hold them all. The weight of them made the rest of his trip physically painful.

Otto stood outside a gift shop. He thought of everyone he might get something for. What did they like? Should he even bother? He spent a good hour fussing and worrying if anything he chose was even a good idea. If they didn't like it what was the point? He couldn't stop from over thinking it.
He panicked and decided he wouldn't get anything, fleeing from the store in an uncomfortable mood.

He stopped for a drink at the food court, miserably drinking a delicious smoothie. Miserably. Was it possible he was becoming even more socially awkward than he had been?

He dragged his feet as he headed for his next destination. A store with sexy lingerie grabbed his attention, if only because the pictures of the models were alluring. One looked too much like Nevada, and he quickly turned away, trying to forget about the night they'd spent together. It was a wonderful yet sad memory. Complicated. It still made his heart race.

He quickly shuffled past.

Groceries he'd worry about tomorrow. Anything perishable would be better bought right before he left.

He bought suitcases. Very large ones. He had a lot of s**t to bring back to the island, and no one to help him carry it all.

He came back to the gift shop once more, but flaked as the same feeling over came him, and left the mall altogether.

Part 12: Solitude and Reflection

Night came once more. Otto had no more silly antics he felt the need to act out, no more energy to burn. His room was quiet now, as he laid on his bed, his head tilted toward the night sky outside his window.

Now all he could do was think.

His mind was still buzzing, despite how tired he was now. So he allowed himself to indulge in his inner musings, reflections and contemplations. He allowed himself to think about Nevada, and the night they'd spent together.
It had only happened because her days were numbered. She'd wanted just one night with him, and he'd indulged so readily. He could still see her in his mind. Every soft curve, and every beautiful feature. Still heard her voice and murmurs. He could remember how good she felt, how warm, and how she made his heart feel.
But it was only for that one night, she'd said. Was it wrong he wanted more? Would it be wrong to ask? She was dying, she had so much she must be struggling with, and all here he was, wishing he could have her to himself every night like that one, special night.

It was best to leave her alone. Not get attached again. Not any more than he already was. He was already losing his best friend. It was best he not lose something even more than that.

He wouldn't ask. Not unless she came to him again. It would have to be up to her. It wasn't his right to ask.

Right. It was best to learn how to be alone again. He used to be so good at it. It was all he ever knew once upon a time. Like today, how he'd spent his day with such abandon. And he'd done it all by himself. He could have fun all alone. He could. He didn't necessarily need anyone else to feel good. Not a warm body waking up next to him, not a friendly face in the halls. No, he could do this. He could survive Deus with only himself and Tenya.

Maybe he was just fooling himself.