"So……"

Bryce took another long drag of the cigarette, letting the nicotine run into his system before slowing exhaling, the smoke vanishing instantly in the sticky, stagnant heat. Brushing some blonde hair away from his sweaty forehead, he turned to his friend, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Soooo…?" he prompted again.

"I got it all but-" he was cut off by a resounding whoop and a pair of strong, sweaty arms wrapping themselves around his waist.

"Awesome man!!! Congrats dude, that scholarship is yours! I mean you of all people got the Divine Angles story! I would be jealous of you but man you deserve it!!"

Forcing a grin, cigarette still clasped between his teeth, he pried his friends arms off him and let him talk to the air some more. Taking another drag, he realized his cigarette was out and let if fall, crushing it with his bare foot.

"…..all the way to goddamn New York.."

"Camile"

The darker man stopped, black eyes snapping to look at Bryce.

"You know, you aren't nearly as excited as I though you would be." He sat down on the damp grass, Bryce following suit. "I mean, you have the story of lifetime in that bag, an almost guaranteed full-ride for grad school, and here you are looking like your cat just died….what's up?"

Sighing, Bryce prepared himself for the string of profanities that would follow his next statement.

"Camile…I'm not publishing the interviews," he looked over at the other man, almost laughing at the cartoonish look of disbelief plastered all over his dark face. "This story..everything, is too much. I could get into so much shit for this..I mean, I feel freaking UNSAFE just carrying this thing around."

He pointed to his backpack, which held two edited diaries and about 100 hours of taped interviews he had gathered over the last two weeks. Thinking back to what he had learned, what had been DONE here, still made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

2 weeks earlier…..

"It really sucks, ya know, havin' ta 'member all the shit tat made ya so fuckin' crazy in ta first place, ya know? Dontcha 'ready know tis shit anyway? Why ya even.."

"Because out there, there are millions of people who have no idea any of this took place at all. I had no idea of what was happening here. And you-know. So shut up, sit back down, and tell. Me. Everything."

Surprised by the surprisingly harsh words of the normally soft-spoken older man, Tyler complied and sat back down, sitting backwards in the chair so his head rested on the headrest and his long legs wrapping around the back. Pushing back his black hair away from his forehead sticky with sweat, he looked back at the man, waving his thin hand in a "please continue" kind of fashion much more condescending than encouraging.

The interviewer dropped his head into his hand, sighing and mentally telling himself not to smack the kid in the face. He knew he was going to be hell to interview, but he had not been expecting the barely hundred pound teen to be so..just…impossible.

Damn he needed a drink. Preferably of the vodka family.

Pushing his thoughts away, he shuffled his papers on the desk one more time and looked back at the black eyes boring into him inquisitively.

"Alright, I read your file and-"

"All it?" he cut in, anger flashing across his face. "What fucker let ya get 'hold of that?! I swear ta god I'll—"

"That 'fucker' would be Zacharrias," the interviewer replied, saying the curse word as if it was killing him to do so. Tyler relaxed and slid back down into the chair as the man continued "It was one of the conditions I agreed to in order to have access to you. I have to know as much about you as possible. Are you fine with that?"

Ty shrugged, his too big shirt falling down his shoulder a bit as his absentmindedly pulled it back up.

"I mean ya 'ready read et, so whatev.."

The man sighed. "As I was saying.." he added with not so hidden irritation "I know you remember very little up to about six years ago, but I want you tell me the very first thing you do. Even if it's just something small," he clicked the old-fashioned tape recorder on and looking expectantly at the boy seated across from him.

Ty stared back at the recorder for a few seconds, his pale face going from smug amusement to a darker, more pensive expression much harder to read. For a few seconds, the only sounds that could be heard were the slight static of the recorder and the soft breathing of the room's two inhabitants.

"Ya sure you wannna know? I mean, how much ya know 'ready?"

The interviewer went to speak and then abruptly paused, looking hard at the painted cinder-block wall beside him. A large crucifix caught his gaze as the remarked,

"That whatever you're going to tell me is not going to be pleasant."

The boy chuckled, looking back at the man, eyes seeming shades darker than moments before.

"True that, man. So ya wanna know, well, here it be," he shifted slightly, head resting on the headrest as he looked towards the door, the faint outlines of a shaped scar barely showing to the interviewer.

"Question, first, for YOU, Interviewer-san. Have ya eva been fucked?"

The bluntness of the question took a few seconds to process through his mind. He gaped openly as his mouth tried to form words before his mind caught up with him.

"I, uh, what?"

"Ok, let me put it inta words ya can undastand, have you eva had ya ass ridden' by a man before?"

"Huh.."

"HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN ANALLY PENETRATED BY THE SEX ORGAN OF ANOTHER MALE BEFORE?" he replied louder, trying to match the sophisticated pronunciation of the older man.

"Geez, I feel like I'm back at KRK, naive freak..so what es et?"

Catching himself, he coughed and shot back,

"Of course not!"

"Hmph," Ty leaned back in the chair again, almost falling back since he forgot he was sitting on the chair backwards. "Then this is gonna be hard ta explain…ok anaway..I have. A lot. Pro'bly too much. And I started little, like way little. Et's one of my first mem'ries..bein' found 'ere."

"I still 'member the first time I was fucked. I was five, and the people where talkin' in English. I didn't know any English back then; they coulda been speaking goddamn backwards Latin for all I knew. I was hungry, like always, and they were talkin'. These fuckin' crazy ass men I had been sent ta. The only faces I remember are the man with these fuckin' pointed teeth and the young guy with long-ass hair and creepy-colored eyes. And a course the fucker tat did et."

"Did what?" he asked, although he already knew the answer, but was wondering how in depth Tyler would go, how far his fragmented memory would allow.

He sighed and smiled, a distant smile on his face.

"Screw me," he stated matter-of-factly. "He's one fucked up bastard, man. Threw me up on that table, ripped of my clothes, and-"

He paused for a moment and hissed, grimacing and shifting on the seat, a phantom pain shooting through his body.

"………wow it hurt. So much. I thinks that's why I 'member et so well. I've been screwed so many fuckin' times, but notin' will eva be like that….i thought he was gonna rip me inta two…I was bleedin' from my ass and my mouth and my neck and my back….he left me there on tat table too fucked ta even scream….I musta passed out, cuz the reason why he ran was cuz the cops came, and that's how they found me..a little bleedin' whore on a table..man I was only goddamn five..I was a whore for almost seven years, man, and that STILL makes me wanna cry."

Present*

"I knew it was going to involve a lot of …unpleasantries, which is fine, but it's different, having people say it right to your face as if they're talking about the weather. I mean Ty was found at five nearly dead on a table with two kanji carved into his back fucked to kingdom come. Amiah's parents were assassinated by the government. Three kids slit their throats in a chapel..I mean, this stuff only happens in movies, but it happened here..in freaking Dearborn."

Camile watched as his friend wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head on his knees. He had been friends with Bryce for years, and when through a seemingly random series of events Bryce was given the chance to do these interviews, he couldn't have been happier. But knowing now, just hearing the pain in his friend's voice, he wondered if this was really the best thing for him.

"You know, let me read them. These diaries…let me read them. I'll tell you what to do. Alright man?"