S2, E3 | The Gentle Roadmap of a Mind

> 6th May, 2031 <

“How many more weeks until we’re out of the fifth grade?” Andrew queries, passing the question off to his eager and energetic daughter. “Five!” Olivia cheers, holding her hand out for her father to see, each finger pulling as far from each other as they can manage. Pulling his youngest in for a hug, the caring father presses his chin against the child’s head and offers his departing words, “I love you sweetheart, have a good day!”

“I will, bye daddy!” the innocent girl responds, hurrying to the door before pausing, the sound of footsteps descending from the home’s second level capturing her ear. With a bright face, Olivia races back to the bannister and climbs the first few steps, her arms wrapping around the jean-covered legs her sister prepares to depart the home in. “Bye, Sophie!” the young girl says with a smile, her face pressing against the older girl’s knee as she stops mid-step.

“See you after school, ‘Livy” Sophie replies, gently combing her fingers through the smaller girl’s hair with a warm smile. “Where are you going?” Andrew wonders aloud, having stopped his slow approach to the door where the always-pleasant Ms. Kirkpatrick resides, “isn’t your first class in half an hour?”

“Ian mixed up the days a few weeks back- thought our day off tomorrow was today and booked me for an interview with the paper” Sophie replies, hoisting her little sister in her arms before turning around the railing, “I’m passing in all of my classes though, so I figured I’d save him the trouble of rescheduling while I can afford it.”

“What happened to your eye?” Ms. Kirkpatrick interjects, a look of concern on her face as Sophie’s smooth skin catches the kitchen light, the dark bruise around her left eye instantly noticeable. “I hit my head climbing into the car” the girl replies, gently setting Olivia back on the ground as she inches closer, “I saw worse things in that bunker, I’m pretty sure I can manage a black eye.”

Remaining quiet, Ms. Kirkpatrick’s head sways toward Andrew’s direction, waiting for the man to cut through the silence that he’d resided with up to now. “You got that from your car?” the man asks, an obvious suspicion carried in his tone, though Sophie is quick to ward off. “I was in a rush, the street was busy and I was parked next to a line of cars backed up at the stoplight” the girl answers, “on the bright side, it didn’t take long for the traffic to disperse.”

Opening his mouth, Andrew attempts to speak before his youngest daughter’s soft voice splits through his apparent concern. “Can I go with Sophie today?” Olivia wonders aloud, immediately drawing her father’s eyes toward herself, the pout she presents across her face holding an obvious intent.

“You don’t mind, do you dad?” Sophie adds, the inquiry momentarily prompting her father’s eyes to drift upward, looking at her before falling back to his youngest. With a submissive sigh, Andrew passes a look toward Olivia’s driver, who bows her head out of the conversation- the call not one for her to make.

“If Sophie wants you to go with her, I’m alright with it” Andrew replies, earning a high-pitch squeal of joy from the second member of his offspring to skip her classes. “Come on, Sophie!” Olivia exclaims, taking her big sister by the hand and racing through the front door, a chuckle from the older student preceding her surrender to her younger sibling’s quick retreat, their feet quickly shuffling down the stairs and to the parkway ahead.

“How do you think she got it?” Ms. Kirkpatrick wonders aloud, closing the front door as she follows the family patriarch’s lead back into the kitchen. “How else do teenagers get black eyes?” Andrew answers back, shaking his head as he places his keys atop the kitchen’s island, approaching the fridge whilst the woman his home welcomes as a guest stands by with her hands coupled at the waist.

“Who would she be fighting with?” Ms. Kirkpatrick wonders aloud, a question that her good friend has little answer to, his head shaking as he unscrews the cap to a carton of milk, “I have no clue, Elaine.” Adding a little more texture to his previously-black coffee, Andrew presses his left hand against the counter for support whilst his right blends what sits within his mug.

“She’s been home for almost five months and hasn’t really opened up to me about much more than what happened with her mother” the man confesses, gently tapping his spoon against the mug’s rim before discarding of it in the sink, “I know Izzy and Caden aren’t talking to her, but aside from that- I have no clue who she talks to anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t they be talking?” Elaine queries, watching the man take a quick drink from his cup before setting it down, joining the woman on the distant side of the island. “They had a falling out or something” the man responds, pulling a seat out for his visitor before taking the chair directly beside it for himself, “Sophie won’t talk about it in detail, Caden won’t talk about it at all, and I haven’t heard from Izzy since Christmas.”

Her eyebrows lowering, Elaine watches Andrew’s hand reach back toward his keys, where he takes a familiar white business card between his two dominant fingers. “And even though the police investigation is over, it seems like some people had other ideas” the man remarks, passing the contact card onto his respected ally, his lowering spirits made obvious in the verbal disappointment he presents, “the Stewart’s hired a private investigator to tail Sophie.”

In surprise, Elaine pulls her attention away from the card, looking at the side of the man’s face as he blankly stares ahead, taking another sip. “Why would they do that?” the woman inquires, earning a shrug of the shoulders in response, “they went out of their way to help you find her, I don’t understand this.”

“Neither do I, but that doesn’t change the facts” Andrew replies, using his free hand to point at the face of the card, “that was on their kitchen counter last night.” Attempting to speak, Elaine goes silent momentarily, considering the little information she’s been given before opting to speak. “Them having this doesn’t necessarily mean they’re the ones that hired him” the gentle-spoken lady retorts, “if they hired him, why would they just be leaving his card out and about the house?”

“Who knows why wealthy people do what wealthy people do?” Andrew answers, his confusion more than clear to anyone including himself, “if the answer’s not ‘to make a profit somehow’, then it seems like no one really knows.” Tilting her head to the side, Elaine looks to the card for a moment as a breath leaves her lungs, the hand she holds the contact slip in returning to the increasingly-tired man.

“Just, please don’t blame the Stewart’s without knowing it’s them” Elaine replies, her plea drawing Andrew’s attention to her, “it seems like nothing’s ever simple nowadays. There could be a reason for them to have this that we’re just not seeing.” Pressing his lips together, the man subtly nods as the woman leaves her seat, his eyes falling back toward the front of his kitchen.

“I’ll be back Thursday. Call me if you need anything” Elaine remarks, gently patting her friend on the shoulder as she shows herself out, the taps of her shoes along the hardwood floor leading her through the door she closes behind herself. Alone, Andrew sits with his coffee in hand for another few moments, hearing the engine to Ms. Kirkpatrick’s minivan roar before pulling onto the street whilst he sits on his own, mind racing from the thoughts that hurry throughout it.

Going silent, the room sits empty, hosting sounds of only the sips of coffee Andrew takes in and the ticking of a nearby antique grandfather clock. As the seconds pass, the man’s mind begins to wander, his thoughts fading into nothingness as blank, preoccupied expression overcomes his face. His lips forming a frown, the man’s eyes fall from the heavens they’d focused upon and take toward the card beside him, the same name that lingers through his mind plastered upon its centre.

“Pull up number pad” Andrew says aloud, moving his wrist off the countertop to raise his watch closer to the lips he speaks through. Reciting the number just beneath the familiar name, the father patiently waits through the process, listening to the dial tone buzz close to his ear before an answer arrives.

“You’ve reached Dennis, this is him speaking- may I ask who is calling?” the man greets, sitting at a desk from the fifties whilst staring out the window of his high-rise apartment home. “Andrew Carrion” the father replies, pressing his left arm against his island’s surface whilst lifting his mug with his right.

Pausing, a slight smirk comes over Dennis’ face as the name is spoken aloud, his eyes falling from the window to glance at his wrist. “And how may I help you, Mr. Carrion?” the investigator asks aloud, crossing his arms as he looks back through his window, gazing at the quiet street just over ten stories below.

Staring at the business card, Andrew remains quiet for a moment, clearing his throat as he lowers the mug, “I want to know who’s paying you to stalk my daughter.” Through his nose, a breath is blown in place of a laugh whilst he uses his hands to roll up the sleeves to his dress shirt, Dennis’ posture changing as he leaves the seat he’d occupied. “That does not surprise me, Mr. Carrion” the man replies, casually approaching a coat rack in the corner of his room.

“I’m not trying to surprise you. I’m not some freak show carny act playing pop-up magic” Andrew replies, gradually becoming more irritated as the conversation continues, “I want answers.” Shaking his head, Dennis slides his arm through one sleeve of a short trench coat before doing the same with the other, his feet sliding into a pair of penny loafers before carrying him through the front door of his flat.

“I want answers too” Dennis retorts, locking the door to his apartment before venturing down a long hallway with rather poor lighting, “but if you think I’m just going to sell out my contractors to get them the easy way- you’d be mistaken.”

“Do you take me for someone that cares about your code of ethics?” Andrew challenges, staring at his watch while he speaks, “you’re a grown man getting paid to follow my sixteen year old daughter everywhere she goes. As her father, I want to know who’s cutting the checks.” Shaking his head, Dennis presses his finger against the elevator button with the downward arrow, waiting for a moment as the audible sounds of the elevator lifting from below fill the cramped, tiny corridor.

“I guess you’ll have to take a walk in my shoes, Mr. Carrion” Dennis jokes, watching the numbers tick upward as the lift rises, “take a walk in the life of an investigator and see how the other half lives.” Slamming his fist against the countertop, Andrew clenches his teeth as his eyes close, his frustration only continuing to boil.

“What is there to gain out of following my daughter around?” the man angrily wonders, listening to the bell toll on the other end as the lift finally reaches Dennis’ level. “Uncovering the same truth that you- as her father- are too blinded to spot” the investigator responds, reaching his hand outward as the doors part, holding them open whilst remaining in the passageway.

“Your daughter’s story doesn’t match up with the one she gave the police or the one you put in that trailer” Dennis remarks, stepping into the elevator before concluding his remarks, “if I were you, I’d sit down and ask my daughter if she was really telling me the whole truth.” As the bell rings for a second time, the lift’s doors roll to a close, the last thing Andrew hears before the call goes dead, the connection cut off the moment the investigator’s temporary tomb seals.

Rolling his eyes as he leans over the counter, Andrew’s head presses into the sleek surface, his home returned to the silence of a quiet interior, it's only interruption coming from the ticking of the antique longcase clock. With a sigh, the man’s breath escapes his lungs in a rush, blowing the investigator’s business card to the other end of the island where it remains, overseeing the defeat in a father’s efforts to best protect his daughter.

= Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =

> 6th May, 2031 <

“It was a pleasure, Ms. Amari” a friendly young woman in a burgundy blouse and a grey skirt remarks, shaking Sophie’s hand before feeling the embrace of Olivia’s arms wrapping around her legs. “Thank you” the interview’s subject responds, gently patting her little sister on the back to request the journalist’s release.

“Can we get ice cream, Sophie!?” Olivia excitedly wonders, joining her sister in departing the brick-constructed building with her right hand held in the older girl’s left. “I guess so” Sophie answers, lifting the younger sibling into the backseat of her car before brushing elbows with a black town car on her way to the front seat.

Pleased and content, Olivia sits with a smile as she buckles her seat belt, staring out the window as her sister turns the key in the ignition, glancing at the young lady in her backseat through her rear view mirror. A slight smirk worn, Sophie lowers her hand toward the gear shift, prepared to throw the car in reverse before thinking twice, her mind’s second thoughts emerging unprovoked.

The hair on her arms raising, Sophie releases her grasp of the leather stick before glancing through the rear view mirror once more, her attention paid to the road that lies ahead of her back window this time around. “Give me one second. I’ll be right back” the young redhead proclaims, releasing her seatbelt before stepping through her driver’s side door, a nervous look having come over her face as she stares ahead, looking around the parking lot intently.

Letting a few seconds pass, Sophie’s nerves begin to quell, her anxiety returning to ground level after firing itself through the roof. “What’s wrong?” Olivia wonders aloud, watching her sister climb back behind the wheel and quickly throw the car in reverse, affording no time to throw the seatbelt across her chest.

“Nothing, I just-” Sophie begins to respond, visibly shaken as she pulls out of the spot, quickly returning to the road as she reclaims control of her composure, “-nothing. It was nothing.”

“How’s your ice cream?” Sophie inquires, watching her sister make slow work out of a mountain of chocolate ice cream atop an incredibly inadequate cone. “Good!” Olivia cheers, her cheeks and the tip of her nose smeared with melted chocolate. Laughing to herself, the older girl nods as she licks at the three scoops of vanilla bean, her face much less stained with the aftermath of dessert-branded warfare than that of her younger sibling.

“Why did you hit yourself with your car?” Olivia suddenly wonders aloud, looking at the dark wound over her sister’s eye with obvious concern, though her young mind takes more interest in the answer. “I, uh- I didn’t” Sophie responds, laughing off the question for the youthful unsureness, “the car hit me.”

“But still, why did it happen?” Olivia reiterates, not letting go of the question until its existence is laid to rest at the behest of her sister’s response. Subtly shaking her head as her eyes wander through the air, Sophie struggles to come up with an answer, working simply off what her sister already knows.

“Because I wanted to get in my car really fast” the older sibling soon replies, leaning on the left arm that rests against the small table the pair occupy, “and when I went to get in my seat, I hit my eye.” Her little legs swinging over the ground that they aren’t quite long enough to touch yet, Olivia puts her face into her mountain of dessert once more, the expression she wears indicating to Sophie that the conversation is not yet over.

“Why were you trying to get in the car fast?” Olivia asks back, slamming her teeth into the summit of dessert mountain as her sister struggles to answer, stumbling over her words as her mouth hands open. “Because I didn’t like where I was” Sophie settles on, squinting as her sister digests the information just as she does the ice treat, “and I didn’t want to be there.”

“Where were you?” Olivia counters, a question that prompts her sister to lower her chin, the soft part of her bottom lip pressed between her teeth.

“I was in a bad place and I don’t know where that is” Sophie answers, no longer speaking toward a physical place, but instead, one mentally created, “I don’t understand how it works and I don’t know why I have to go there.”

|

With the top three buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned, Andrew climbs the paved steps to a beautiful home in search of the owners, his fist knocking into the pearly white door that sits in the light of an overhead lantern. Silent, the father sits in wait, anxiously tapping his foot against the ground as the seconds tick by, a distant pair of footsteps drawing nearer from the other side of the door.

“Andrew” Hugh greets, stepping back in surprise at the man’s presence, barely able to proceed before moving aside on his friend’s advancement, “I wasn’t expecting y-”

Stepping past the wealthy man, Andrew sees himself through the entrance, immediately stepping into the entry foyer before tucking his hands into each pocket, his body turning to reface his friend. “I wanna know why you’ve got a guy tailing my daughter” the mentally fatigued father demands, his right foot placed further ahead than his left, “and I wanna know what’s in this for you.”

His polite visage quickly retreating, the expression of defence takes a hold over Hugh’s face, the larger man looking to his friend in confusion. “I don’t believe I understand what you’re-” the uncommonly kind-hearted business tycoon replies, interrupted before he can finish by the response of Andrew presenting the same card he’d stolen from the kitchen island one night prior.

“I found this on the counter- your counter- last night” the father of two proclaims, watching the card flutter to the ground as it leaves his fingers, coming to a rest at his friend’s feet, “I wanna know why you’ve got a guy tailing my daughter and I want to know now.” His lips parted just slightly, Hugh stares at Andrew in silence for a few seconds before turning aside, walking to his kitchen whilst his acquaintance follows.

“He came to my home yesterday morning and left that for my wife when she answered the door” Hugh responds, stepping through the archway that separates his kitchen from the front of the home, “He introduced himself, asked me to call him and that was it. I have no affiliation with him whatsoever.”

“And I’m supposed to just take that at face value?” Andrew replies, an obvious irritation having come over his surprisingly irritable attitude, “my ex-wife had my child locked in a storage unit for six months- how am I supposed to trust anything out of anybody?” Quick to turn around and argue in his own favour, Hugh walks around the kitchen’s island and approaches the sink.

“Because I was there!” Hugh responds, his voice strained slightly in stupefaction, shocked that he’d have to defend his own integrity to a friend, “I was there when we found her, there when we talked to your ex-wife, there when everything happened. Of all the parts of the system that failed both you and Sophie- I wasn’t one of them!”

From the fridge, Hugh retrieves a beer bottle, the slam of his fist against its cap whilst running it beside the edge of his counter allowing the beverage to pop open. “I didn’t call this guy, I have no intention of calling this guy, and I’m not interested in having your girl investigated!” the man vows, stepping past the troubled father with great disappointment, “and with that, I’d appreciate it if you’d see yourself out.”

Scowling, Andrew looks away from the decent man that walks past him, returning to business as he’s left to himself, standing in the middle of the same room that had kickstarted his bout of internal conflict. The cuffs to each sleeve of his shirt unbuttoned, his tie nowhere to be found and hair somewhat dishevelled, the man remains where he was left, trying to make sense of the chaos that appears to be unravelling around him as the days pass by.

His button-up replaced in favour of a plain, white t-shirt, Andrew sits in the comfort of his own kitchen, though its silence and dark interior leave a feeling of anything but easiness. Listening to the horn of Sophie’s car sound off as the doors to the vehicle lock, the man’s eyes take to the same mug of coffee that he’d left unfinished just hours prior, his left hand running through his unkempt hair as the sound of his daughters nears closer.

“Dad!” Olivia shouts, running through the door her older sister opens before jumping into her father’s arms, his tired response the only thing he has the energy to present. “Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a fun day?” Andrew inquires, listening to his youngest round off the bucket list of activities she and Sophie had accomplished.

“We got ice cream, and we went to the movies, and we went to the zoo, and we went-!” Olivia continues to list, drawing a half-smile out of her father as he lowers himself to a knee. “‘Liv, I’d love to hear all about it, but I have to talk to Sophie about something for a few minutes if that’s okay?” Andrew whispers, the remark intriguing his eldest daughter, “When we’re done, I’ll come upstairs and you can tell me all about your day as we get you ready for bed, alright?”

“Okay!” Olivia yelps, laughing as she wraps her arms around Sophie’s legs, giving her a hug on her way toward the home’s second level, the appreciation she holds for her sister more than obvious, “thank you for ice cream, Sophie!”

Setting her concern toward the impending conversation aside, the eldest Carrion daughter drops to her knees to reciprocate the hug, pulling her little sibling in for a hug. “Of course, ‘Livy” Sophie whispers, rubbing the young girl’s shoulder as she pulls away, hurrying to bed under her father’s previous suggestion, leaving the room for the older, naturally wiser souls to speak.

“‘Liv seems like she had a good time” Andrew remarks, glancing at his daughter as he rounds the island on the way toward the sink, “thank you for that.” Forming a smile with her lips, Sophie nods as her father empties the contents of what remains in his mug down the drain, unable to see the muddled look of confliction that spreads across the man’s face like a virus.

“Your sister looks up to you- a lot” the man continues, filling the cup with water before turning the faucet off, his body turning back toward his daughter as the last few drops tickle down the pipe. “School’s not always easy when you’re not like other kids. Even though people spew off this rhetoric about being nice to everyone, it doesn’t take a genius to know that kids won’t always play by the rules you give them” Andrew proceeds, his spirits verbally waning, “it means so much to her.”

Holding back a much wider smile, Sophie bows her head as she takes a seat at the island, reclaiming the same stool that Elaine had occupied earlier in the morning. “She’s trying to move mountains with a few sticks and a rock” the young woman responds, letting a sigh leave her nose as she concludes, “it’s hard not to love the little rascal for trying so hard.”

“No, but it is difficult to do that when you have bigger things to deal with on your plate” Andrew quickly corrects, leaning against the island as he locks eyes with his daughter from afar, “specifically, bigger things such as a private eye following you around because someone, somewhere, likes to poke holes in your story.”

As her face goes pale, Sophie sits upright, looking her father in the eyes as her sister’s footsteps toward her room on the level above. “Alright, and why is that supposed to be a problem?” the young woman inquires, confused as to why her father would consider the circumstance plaguing her mind to be an issue worth discussing, “I told the police my story and I was cleared of all charges. There’s nothing this guy is going to find that isn’t already known.”

His mouth closed, Andrew maintains eye contact with his oldest offspring, the silence that sits between them persisting past the point of comfortability, bringing an aura of unpleasantness to the spacious room. “Is that true?” the girl’s father asks, a slight lack of conviction held in the way he asks the question, almost unsure of whether or not Sophie’s remarks are factual, “is everything- everything- already out in the open?”

Parting her lips, the girl falls silent, a look of awe hidden behind the veil of betrayal in her eyes, the answer she wishes to give trying to hide itself deep within her. “Yes” Sophie finally replies, unable to speak much louder than a whisper just vocal enough to catch her father’s ear, his head pulling back as the response is provided, “yes, it is.”

|

> 6th May, 2022 <

“You alright?” Izzy wonders aloud, raising the question to her clearly-distressed boyfriend as he waits for the car to pull itself into the open space just beyond the boundary of his home’s front step. “Not really” Caden answers honestly, circling his thumbs around each other as they sit in his lap, allowing his car to traverse the quiet, suburban road on his behalf, “I just get annoyed looking at her house every night.”

Nodding, Izzy glances out her window at the Carrion residence as it approaches, drawing nearer as the car slowly rolls to its intended parking space. “Have you talked to her dad since whatever happened?” the girl wonders, hearing a breathy laugh leave her boyfriend’s lungs as he shakes his head, not offering much more of an answer than that.

“Is he at least doing alright?” Izzy follows-up, watching a much more confident nod emerge from her boyfriend’s head. “Yeah, he’s just going about life. I think whatever he’s got going on now is more bearable now that he’s got her back” Caden proclaims, sitting back in his seat as the home’s front door passes, replaced in his sights by the barely-lit interior his own home sports through the main floor’s windows.

“I don’t have a problem with him- or Livy” Caden concludes, moving with the momentum of his car as it comes to a slow stop, settling in its intended destination, “-just Sophie.” With the motion of his hand, the young driver sets his car in park, holding his hand over a colourful screen that turns from green to red at his desire.

“He’s a good man” Izzy replies, sinking further into her seat as the dark blue lights that shine within the car’s interior power down, entrenching the car in darkness, “I’m just glad to know he’s doing alright.”

Nodding, Caden pulls the keys from their place in the ignition, bathing the car in orange light momentarily as he opens his door, prepared to leave until his girlfriend’s hand grabs a hold of his own. “Come stay with me for a few days” Izzy blurts out, looking her boyfriend in the eyes as she presents her offer, his responding look being one of surprise.

“I know this is your home and everything, but maybe you just need a few days away to clear your head” the girl doubles down, adamant in not rescinding her offer, “when you come back here- whenever that is- maybe it’ll be a little easier?” With a smirk, Caden sits back in his seat, locking eyes with Izzy as her hopeful expression catches his heart.

“Wouldn’t your mom have an issue with me staying over at all, let alone for a few days?” the young man asks, matching his better half’s lean as their lips inch closer. “She’s barely around as it is, I’ve got no reason to run things by her” Izzy responds, turning her head to one side whilst Caden veers his face toward the other.

“Caden!” an unappreciative familiar voice calls out, the individual it belongs to stepping around the back of his car to meet him at the wheel. “Is that-?” Izzy whispers, watching her boyfriend’s eyes angrily shoot open, his moment of solace crippled beneath the ear-piercing hum of Sophie’s voice.

“Who did you tell about-” the vilified redhead remarks, looking through the open door at the young couple before falling silent, not having noticed Izzy’s presence until she’d already begun speaking. Slowly pulling away from his girlfriend, Caden’s eyes wander toward Sophie’s direction, an obvious anger contained behind his glare.

“Sophie, leave” the young man demands, watching as the redhead’s eyes peer past him, centralising upon the girl he hosts in his passenger seat. “I’ve got a problem and I-” Sophie begins to respond, few seconds passing before she begins to speak, only for the words she responds with to be cut off by her once-friend’s voice.

“Sophie, go the fuck away” Caden sharply interrupts, locking eyes with the steering wheel before him in an effort to not overwhelm himself with anger, “whatever shit you’ve got yourself into is not my problem and I’m not helping.”

“It kind of is your problem and I-” Sophie begins to retort before once more falling silent at Caden’s interjection, though the physical response he provides her takes most of the praise for it. “Sophie, go the fuck away!” the young man shouts, bursting out of his seat and entering the road, his abrupt confrontation prompting the figure of public sympathy to jump back in fear.

“Caden, stop!” Izzy barks, quickly leaping out of the car and dashing to her boyfriend’s aid, standing in the way of the bitter foes with hopes of de-escalating the situation. “Whatever she did isn’t worth it!” the reasonable-minded young woman pleads, gently pushing her boyfriend back into the side of his own car, “just get back in the car and we’ll leave.”

“He’s kind of needed here, Izzy. He can’t just-” Sophie begins to retort, watching Caden slowly return to the driver’s seat as Izzy cuts her off, snapping back with the same vigour she’d ushered her boyfriend down from.

“He told you to fuck off, so fuck off!” Izzy barks, immediately drawing the redhead’s ire as the confrontation seemingly finds a substitute for Caden. “I don’t know what the hell you did to fuck him up like this, but take it with you and get out!” the young woman shouts in Sophie’s face, her commands incapable of being misconstrued, “he gave you one black eye, now leave him alone before I give you another!”

Grimacing, Sophie begins to seethe quietly as Izzy shuts the door behind Caden, prepared to return to her own seat before her ear is caught by the question that leaves the redhead’s lips. “What did he tell you?” Sophie asks, prompting the car’s passenger to halt her departure for a moment, turning to look the young woman in the eyes as her voice falls.

“Not as much as I’m curious to know” Izzy answers, finishing her thought with an honest answer before following through on her return to the car, only a few seconds passing between the point of her re-entry and Caden’s hasty retreat from the neighbourhood. The rubber tires burning as they quickly scrape along the asphalt, the only child of the Nurse family hurries toward greener pastures as his lifelong friend stands behind, remaining in the middle of the street whilst watching him drive off.

Letting out a sigh, Sophie looks toward the heavens briefly before turning home, stepping through her front door and slamming the door shut on her way in, the thud of the hardwood entrance’s closure ringing through the quiet street. Amidst an assortment of street lanterns that line the sidewalk, a second, more powerful light bathes the roadway, its harsh yellow lamps outshining the dim, orange bulbs from above as the engine to the car they belong to begins roaring.

== Generation Alpha ==