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The book Chase Hollow stood in was practically empty and plotless, but it was where Buddy told him to meet after their last encounter, so he had no reason to question it. At the end of the last book, Buddy had approached him, pressing a tiny leather-bound book into Chase’s palm.
“We’re doing this book next.”
Chase had looked down at it. It was just big enough for a key to slot in, but not much bigger. In fact, as Chase pressed Silver to the leather, he noticed there wasn’t any wiggle room at all. Ever one for adventure, he’d inserted Silver into the book, and let the magic take him over. Had he read the contents of the book before entering? Of course he hadn’t. He was here for the sake of narratonin after all and he was so close to getting his wish. Why would he care? Why should he care for anything?
So, he went in the book and he waited. He waited, and he waited, and he waited.
There was quite literally nothing in the book. No plot to follow. No structure to try to detangle. The was nothing but a blue sky that looked like it had been pulled straight from the old Windows startup screen, and grass so green it was near enough blinding. He did what he needed and he sat down. There he noticed that he was in the same clothes he had entered the book in. Maybe this was, quite literally, a plotless book. Did they even exist? Given his boyfriend’s gothic stance on literature, if anyone could find the blandest book in history, it would be Buddy.
Chase waited, and then he waited, and then he waited some more. No plot meant nothing interesting happened. No villains. No fireballs falling from the sky. No beasts like vampires or werewolves constantly after him. Not even a wicked stepmother to have him scrub the rotting floors to salvage them. No. There was nothing, and it was beginning to annoy him a great amount.
He flopped backwards, shielding his eyes from the harsh, yellow sun above him. “Come on, Buddy! I’m right here! I’m literally right here! I’m waiting on you to come find me! If it was that important, you’d be here already!”
Then, the grass beside him rustled, and Chase sat back up.
Buddy was sitting there dressed in something…different. Something that shone in the way of obsidian blocking sunlight. Something with metallic undertones. Something that looked like armour…and his skin was greyer. His hair did not move against the gentle breeze. His eyes…were equally as shiny. It could only mean one thing and one thing only.
“Holy shit, are you sick?”
“What?!” Buddy looked borderline offended to be asked such a question.
“Look at you! Y-…you don’t look yourself.”
“…I know.”
“If you’re sick, you should be at home-“
“-I’d rather be anywhere but there right now. I…” Buddy’s eyes dropped to his lap. “I want to be here. With you. Doing nothing for a while.”
Chase watched as Buddy remained facing forward. How he all but glittered underneath the artificial sun. If Chase knew anything about Buddy (which, given the fact they’d been together since days before Chase’s 18th birthday, Chase was a self-proclaimed Buddy NoKnownSurname expert) he knew that it was best not to question it. Instead, he shuffled up to him, resting his head on Buddy’s shoulder. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do nothing.”
Even through the brief flinch, Buddy looked down to Chase, looking at the golden haired beauty. Carefully, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. He gripped Chase that little bit tighter. “You’re not one for doing nothing.”
“And I know you’re mysterious and all, but you’re also not one to randomly give me what has to be the tiniest book to ever exist. You said this was the book we were doing next time we met, so lets do nothing.”
“You hate doing nothing.”
“I guess I’m not doing nothing if I’m talking to you.”
For once, Buddy was rendered speechless. For once, Buddy didn’t have the energy to come back with a quip…so he let them do absolutely nothing.
At some point, Chase had started babbling to himself about something. Buddy wished he could have said he knew what, he really did but his mind was elsewhere.
For there was a specific reason Buddy had chosen an empty book. He knew he wasn’t getting any narratonin out of it, and he was fine. He knew that this had gone on too long. Seven years, now, and he knew there was the obvious winner.
So, today, Buddy was letting go of everything familiar to him for the sake of letting himself lose.
It would not only be safer for Chase to be as away from him as possible, but it would be safer for Chase to have the keys. Ex Libris, as far as Buddy knew, did not know about Chase’s whereabouts. Not exactly. They knew the keys had been sighted in Sugar Springs but where they actually were was not confirmed by them. They didn’t know, and Buddy would endure a million years of torture before they were able to get that information out of him.
The one thing keeping him from letting go of everything was the fact that he and Chase had grown…rather close.
Since they had kissed at the end of the destroyed tale of Cinderella when Chase was still 17, Buddy knew he could not keep denying his feelings anymore. Their relationship blossomed, much to Dorkin’s dismay, but for the first time in god knows how long, Buddy could safely say he was happy…and he was about to ruin it all. He was about to ruin the one good thing he’d ever had, and he was doing his best to stop the tears already.
Buddy didn’t know how long had passed. The environment had stayed the exact same, as he knew it would. After all, he had written that book. He had written the blandest setting he could imagine to make sure this transfer would be done efficiently. He didn’t know how much time had been carried away by the wind, but eventually, he, too, stood and joined Chase on the grass.
Chase’s smile was so beautiful and he looked so overjoyed to be there that it only added to the hurt ensuing.
He took Chase’s hand, looking down at him. “Chase, I need to go.”
“Yeah, okay.” Chase’s eyes were still so innocent, still so unknowing about what was about to happen. It added to the layers of pain, the ones Buddy was trying to dull. “Where should we meet? Which book? You know, I could be down for another Cinderella-“
“-I won’t be there. You’ve won.”
“No, come on. I haven’t won anything.”
“Yes, Chase, you have.” Buddy pushed the high collar of his black shirt aside, grabbing Violet from around his neck. “…it’s better for you to take her than for me to keep her selfishly. This book will give you enough narratonin for you to make your wish-“
“-wait, huh, what-“
With one swift motion, Violet’s chain had snapped, and he had pressed the purple key into Chase’s hand. “And you’re probably thinking it won’t work, but it will. She isn’t a decoy. She’s the real thing and I…I need to go…”
“Buddy, wait, what the hell-why are you-“
Quickly, he turned, his black boots padding in the grass as he walked in the direct opposite way to Chase.
Of course, his Chase followed like he always would, shouting demands. Questions Buddy couldn’t give the answers to. Questions he needed to be away from.
Seconds later, Buddy was ripped from the book, alone without his best friend back in the basement of Ex Libris, the only place he knew as home.
The exact same time, Chase Hollow was also ripped from the book, landing on the floor of his bedroom, shaken.
His bedroom door clicked open. In walked Deacon, who was carefully smiling. “Hey, I heard you get back. How’s Bud-“
The way Chase’s entire body shook as he sobbed was enough of an answer given.
Deacon’s smile immediately disappeared. He dropped to his knees beside his younger cousin. “…what did he do?”
Chase couldn’t bare to let himself look at his cousin while in such a state. The best he could do was show him the purple key he had been given. Gifted? Maybe gifted.
“…wait, he just gave up Violet?”
“I don’t know what happened, Deacon, I don’t know…” He pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his hands. “…but I think we’re over.”
The rest of what happened was a blur. What he knew was that, at some point that day, he successfully made his wish to stop his mother’s cancer from returning. Miraculously, the narratonin Chase had been secretly feeding her had done its job by shrinking the tumour, but the wish would ensure it wouldn’t come back at all.
He should be celebrating. He still had his mom. She wasn’t going to die any time soon but…but he’d lost Buddy. His first relationship, gone, and why? He didn’t know.
Chase spent the majority of that evening watching movies with Deacon. Though he said he was only intending to be at the house to pick up a parcel left there, it was obvious, given everything, that he was staying much longer. Maybe, if Chase had the energy, he’d thank him for sticking by his side but he couldn’t. He could barely pull himself together. He figured that letting Deacon stay with him would be enough.
He hoped it was enough…
\Deacon had known Chase his entire life, and as a fully trained doctor, knew to look out for signs of illness or danger in a person. He couldn’t help it. It was muscle memory by now but it did not stop him from doing his best to take care of those closest to him.
When Chase told him that Buddy had broken off their relationship in what had to be the most brutal way possible, the first thing that Deacon did was worry. Since they’d began investigating into Ex Libris, Deacon could firmly say he wasn’t exactly Buddy’s biggest fan. He knew what they were doing was risky, and he knew that Chase’s apparent crush on Buddy was also rather dangerous. The one thing stopping Deacon from pouncing on Buddy at every chance he got was because he hadn’t seen Chase so happy or motivated in years. He really hadn’t. Giving him the power of searching for the keys was something that had allowed Chase to really come into his own.
Then Chase got pressured into accepting his first global tour for the following summer shortly after he’d turn 25, and Deacon knew things were about to change for the worse.
It started with Chase being tired near enough all the time. He’d need frequent breaks when rehearsing choreography because he could barely go ten minutes on his feet without almost fainting. Deacon would watch as Chase’s manager, Mia, would unironically chase him up about his health. Mainly whether he was eating or drinking enough.
Then, slowly, Chase would start showing up looking incredibly pale, and Deacon made logs. Made logs of everything. When he was allowed to be in the rehearsal space, he was logging anything and everything he could find for the sake of making sure his cousin was okay…
No one else seemed to be able to see it but no one else had gone through extensive medical training like he had. After all, he was Doctor Deacon Hollow now. He knew things that might be dismissed by others.
Chase was late for rehearsal one day, completely and utterly unlike him. Deacon offered to swing by Chase’s home, to at least check on him.
Had he known he’d find his younger cousin in such a state, maybe he’d have resorted to calling an ambulance first.
At the hospital, Deacon couldn’t believe his ears when he was told that there were harsh traces of gluten found within Chase’s system. Audibly, he remembered saying, “No, that can’t be true. Chase doesn’t have gluten products at home.”
Then he went back to Chase’s residency and scoured every single cupboard. Every single hiding spot…
…he was barely put together when he went to go and visit, properly, after his shift ended one day. No one else seemed to be able to figure it out. Chase was telling everyone he might’ve had something contaminated from a new restaurant he’d dared to try. They were all believing the lies he was hand feeding them.
It was clever, Deacon would admit, to try and take his life in such a way. Gluten particles could contaminate anything and were so miniscule, it was hardly reasonable to try to say it wasn’t an accident. Deacon knew Chase, though. He knew Chase, and how careful he had been with his eating habits ever since his diagnosis. Chase cooked his own meals and did extensive research on restaurants.
“Even careful people make mistakes,” was what Chase had told his family.
Deacon knew he was about to put a stop to that.
Beside his cousin’s bedside, Deacon pulled out the once-discarded wrapped from the pocket of his jeans. There was a shiver deep within his bones as Chase went stone-still.
“You can’t lie to me. You’ve lied to Aunt Myra and Grandpa but you cannot lie to me, I’ve studied celiac in school, Chase-“
“So it was an accident-“
“-Chase, the entire box of these, whatever they even are, they were gone…” His breathing stuttered then. “…please be honest with me. I can get you help-“
“-you can’t help me-“
“-I’m a doctor. If anyone can help, it is me.”
“Then if you know, why are we still having this conversation?!”
“Because I’m worried about you, Chase! And I have been since everything happened half a year ago!”
Chase went tense, tears pooling in his eyes. “…please don’t tell anyone the truth. I know what I did was stupid-“
“-it isn’t stupid.”
“-but I’m just getting back on my feet again and I-I regret it and I wanna…”
Chase’s sentence was ended by a sudden wave of tears, that Deacon had no choice but to wipe away. He brought his cousin into his arms and held him as tight as he could without holding him. He remembered whispering something about how frail Chase felt physically. As if a strong gust of wind would dissolve him into ashes.
Deacon held him in close as Chase cried, and Deacon, ever the emotive, did his best not to.
Sworn to a promise, Deacon never outrightly told their family the truth. If people figured it out together, that was on them, but it became a sworn tale that neither of them were to discuss it. It was still too soon, and it was still too painful. The thought of losing Chase was a burden that Deacon didn’t want to take on, so he chose to banish the experience to the back of his mind, throwing him into focusing on the good in the world. If he looked for the good, then the good would come to him.
With Chase’s permission, Deacon moved in. Temporarily, but to make sure Chase wasn’t alone. Him being alone dealing with so much wasn’t going to do anything for him. This meant that sometimes, Deacon would return home from work and he would find Chase doing…whatever. Sometimes, that meant watching shows with Mia, whether they be a theatrical proshot, a movie or an actual TV show. Sometimes, that meant Mia was helping Chase nail choreography. Other times, that meant the house was completely silent with Chase being asleep.
Deacon had been dating Amelia “Mia” Warren long before she became Chase’s manager, so that meant that Mia was able to read Deacon better than she could books. That was how they could wordlessly talk about Chase when around him. Whether Chase was having a good day, or a bad day. Whether Chase was coping. Whether Chase needed a break.
Their main goal was to get Chase to a point in time where he was mentally stable enough to perform at Madison Square Gardens that following summer. This was the peak of Chase’s music career but with the news he’d been hospitalised, there were a lot more eyes on him than there were before. Mia agreed that if there was anything that could be done to make Chase comfortable with such a large event, it would be done.
And then the day came, and in Chase’s dressing room sat a script. A script to one of Chase and Mia’s favourite shows sat on the desk where Chase had been getting ready, as did the twelve separate keys.
Deacon didn’t question it. Chase had had a rough year since Buddy had split away from him. He knew the mental toll it had taken on his cousin so hadn’t wanted to interfere with anything. Chase had said the script was his ‘good luck charm,’ a piece of the old Chase Hollow he could take on this new journey believe him and foolishly, Deacon believed him.
So when he walked into the dressing room to see a familiar silver key sticking out of the book, he knew he should’ve been right to trust that dark feeling in the bottom of his stomach.
He knew exactly why Chase was going back in a book. Or, technically, a script, which was still technically a book. He knew exactly why, but even with Violet in their possession, and Chase’s wish granted, he still knew his younger cousin was going back to try to find Buddy.
Reluctantly, Deacon plucked Bronze up from the table, apologised profusely, and also entered himself within the script. If it was anyone who’d be able to get Chase out of harms way, it would be him. One main issue stood in his way, though.
Only Mia and Chase had seen the show the script belonged to, so they’d know the notes. For once, Deacon was in the dark…and all he could properly hope was Chase didn’t do anything stupid that might get himself killed.