Trust
Felix shot up off the couch, sending Denzel tumbling as well. He looked around frantically. They were in the middle of the living room. Ah fuck.
“Denzel! Wake up!!” Felix whisper-shouted, glancing around in horror to see they were surrounded by people enjoying breakfast and chatting.
“I’m up! I'm up. Just…gimme a second…” Denzel said groggily, before realizing exactly where he was. “Holy shit are we…”
“Yes!!” Felix rubbed his temple. “I haven’t even changed out of my suit since yesterday morning.”
“Yeah, remember we passed out.” Denzel said sarcastically. “How the hell are we going to survive an entire day-”
“Coffee.” Felix interrupted, pulling Denzel up off the floor. That earned a series of snickers from the others in the living room. “You’re bed head fucking sucks.” Felix whispered, embarrassed from the unwanted attention.
“I don’t think that’s the only reason they’re laughing.” Denzel pointed out. As usual, Felix was completely oblivious.
“Wait. Is it my hair? ” he said anxiously. Denzel fought the urge to scream that Maybe It was because everyone within a 50 mile radius thought they were sleeping together . It had been a long running joke for a damn while. He was lucky that Felix lacked this many brain cells, either that or he refused to notice.
“Yeah buddy…I'm not the only one with bedhead.” Denzel lied. The truth was, Felix was actually cursed with perfect hair. Felix's face went ghost white as he practically scrambled to the bathrooms. Denzel could hear things crashing from here. Fortunately, that left him alone to take care of whatever it was that he had to do.
Oh right. The boys from last night.
He needed to make sure they actually went to the medic and weren’t still fucking around, which was unlikely. He grabbed Felix who was still staring at the bathroom mirror, and made his way to the teens room, which was surprisingly quiet.
They sighed in unison, hesitantly looking at the door before knocking. This didn’t always go well.
Hobie grabbed his vest, getting up to see who was at the door. He was met with Denzel and another man, they both looked somewhat disheveled, which was probably a good sign.
“Hey Hobie...Felix and I were just checking in to make sure you took Pavitr to the medic.” Denzel strained a smile, speaking to them gently.
These must be the people running this place, Hobie thought to himself, immediately masking his emotions. You can never trust authority. Punk or not, they had learned their lesson with Miguel.
“Nah. Not yet, you guys know where that is, yeah?” Hobie said nonchalantly from the doorway.
“That’s why we’re here bud. Come with.” Denzel gestured more to Pavitr, who was currently devouring stale bread on the floor.
He jumped up, joining them. “You guys run this place right?” he asked, warmly greeting both of the adults.
“Yeah for a year now.” Felix said, leading the group. Pavitr and Hobie glanced at each other, thinking the same thing: They could be as bad as Miguel.
As per usual, Felix quickly caught onto the mistrust in the air. He nudged Hobie lightly, “Is that lace code, right?”
Hobie paused.
“Yeah. What about it?” he said, locking his jaw.
Felix laughed, kicking out his yellow laces with pride. Hobie’s eyes immediately lit up, the pair quickly getting into an animated conversation about punk culture. Hobie took off his vest, showing off the details on the back. They fell behind, Felix taking a good look at the teens pins.
With the two chattering behind him, Pavitr was left to Denzel.
“Do you usually take care of everyone you bring back here like this?” he said with a warm smile, secretly trying to get a scope of who these people were exactly.
“Yeah, we save all of them too. It’s almost like this place is a home to those who don’t have their own yet.” Denzel replied fondly. Telling new recruits about the Atlantis always revived his spirit, it was his favorite part of the whole job. He glanced at Pavitr, who suddenly seemed deep in thought.
“That’s…the dream...” the teen replied, with a faraway, melancholy look in his eyes. He looked much older.