A boy with dark hair watched two caskets lower into a grave. Adults looked on with pity, muttering to each other. The boy didn’t feel anything, yet inexplicably streams of tears poured down his expressionless face. Obvious signs of injury lingered on him, most eye-catching the cast covering his left arm. The boy stood there undisturbed until the final shovelful of dirt covered the resting place of his parents. He was shaken from his daze by a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “Jace?”

  He glanced up wordlessly at his uncle’s expressionless face. Taken by the hand, Jace was led to an unfamiliar car. He would never forget that ride home. In movies, when someone died it rained; yet the weather’s sunny disposition seemed an affront to him. He turned his eyes from the light’s irritation.

  Days passed by, empty of anything but a draining malaise. He didn’t feel sad most of the time — in fact, outside of the occasional breakdown when he was alone, he felt nothing at all. No happiness, joy, nor anger. He couldn’t understand why he was alive at all.

  On the first day of middle school, he garnered a moderate amount of attention — most of it pity. He hated that the most. He didn’t want those sad, woeful eyes drowning him in quiet condemnation. His peers silently judged him. Here was a boy who lost his family, yet didn’t seem upset in the slightest. It didn’t take long for their faux sympathy to run dry, and he was left alone. Jace sat on the swing-set, motionless, eyes closed. It was the only way for him to pass lunch period without losing his composure. Until one day.

  “Hey, can I sign your cast?”

  The shade he was enjoying suddenly disappeared, and he felt the sun’s warm embrace bathe his face.

  Annoyed, he opened his eyes and looked towards the sound that had disturbed him. He saw a somewhat chubby boy with dark brown hair, and dazzlingly bright eyes.

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  “What?” He asked.

  “Your cast,” The boy responded, smiling warmly, “Can I sign it? I’ve been practicing my signature.”

  He almost refused, but stopped short. The boy’s gaze was different. He searched his eyes for the typical look of pity garnered towards him, but couldn’t find it. He didn’t know why, but the boy felt different.

  Slowly, he nodded his assent.

  With a joyful smile, the child removed the cap of a pink marker he was carrying and moved close. It had been the first time since his parents died that someone had been this close to him. He felt an ember of unexpected emotion flare in his core.

  Looking at his cast, he read the name “Austin,” emblazoned at an audacious size, being the only name on his cast.

  He looked up at the boy — Austin, to find a hand extending towards him.

  “Nice to meet you!” He said, face brightly lit.

  Hesitantly, Jace reached his hand out, and grasped it.

  It was warm.

  ———————————————————————————————————————————————

  “You ok?”

  Jace felt the VR headset pull from his face, and opened his eyes. Syl—Austin’s familiar face was gazing at him rather closely. Austin extended his hand to help him out of the chair.

  Jace smiled, and accepted the help. Once standing, he looked down at his friend’s beaming face.

  “How cool was that?!” Austin whisper-shouted, obviously trying to restrain the volume of his voice.

  “I can’t believe how realistic the physics engine is,” Jace replied, “All my dumb fire-making techniques actually worked.”

  They exited the room and walked down the stairs to the kitchen for leftover pizza and some drinks. All the while, Jace watched his closest friend gush about the game, enjoying his bright facial expressions.

  He knew Austin, while normally bright and cheerful, had been struggling with something Jace didn’t quite understand. In games and other media, Austin always gravitated towards female characters, and even in real life, Jace was his only male friend. Austin had grown quite close to many of the girls in class.

  It wasn’t until he had seen Austin in virtual reality as Sylvia that he understood. The pure, unadulterated joy he had seen in Sylvia’s face couldn’t be denied. It made Jace happy, and brought out feelings he thought he’d buried long ago.

  Jace leaned on the kitchen island, face supported by his hand, and smiled gently as he watched Austin stuff his face. A bit of sauce smeared on the side of his mouth caught his attention, and absentmindedly he reached out and wiped it off with a finger.

  Austin stopped talking mid-sentence and looked down at the counter, his face somewhat flushed. Jace’s face froze, and he retracted his hand. He straightened his back and awkwardly said, “I-I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” before walking away.

  He shut the door and looked in the mirror. His handsome features were flushed red.