It Means Everything

[Applesintime]

((Anthony Golden continued from A Time to Build and a Time to Destroy))

The seagulls cried overhead, uncaring as to the fate of the 81 students beneath them. At least eighteen of them were dead, shot, stabbed, exploded, the lot. Sitting on the deck, staring up at the night sky, was Anthony. There weren't just as many of them as there had been in the morning, so where did they sleep? Did they fly off to the closest piece of land and then go back to the flotilla, or did they just have some crook in the cruise ship or something that they were all nesting in? It was an interesting question, backdropped by a starry sky. He hadn't ever seen them like this. Light pollution was bad in Miami, and London was even worse. It was beautiful.

How many corpses were lying under the sky, eyes pecked out by seagulls, or sunk down to the sea floor, to have... what would even happen to them? No, they wouldn't sink to the floor, they were buoyant. Once they floated out of the range of the flotilla, did people come and get them? Pick up their bodies, ship them back home, big funeral, all that? Or did they just drift forever? Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this.

After all, he decided not to follow Pippi and made his way here, to the yacht. Her name was scrawled in his book, but he wanted to figure out what it was Ben wanted to warn him about. If she was a killer, if she had taken a life, he'd know in just a few hours, and then he'd have the proper authorisation to kill her, the proper motive. And if not, he'd have to ask her. He was sitting near the very tip of the bow, criss-cross. It wasn't cold enough to have him want to go inside the yacht, but that's how he would sleep. Same trick he did yesterday; block the door, with the bathtub of course. Who put the bathtub in the living room anyway? The owner of this boat? The executives? It was a stupid place to put a bathtub, either way. Then he'd sleep, and hopefully wake up in time for the announcement. Then, another day of player hunting.

God, he was tired.

But right now he didn't want to think about bathtubs or executives. Sighing, he shuffled a little, making sure to avoid the copious amounts of bird shit all over the deck. It was nearly impossible to avoid, so he had grabbed his outfit's shirt thing from the bedroom in the yacht and set it down on the deck so he didn't get shit all over his arse. Would the bodies be shit on, too? Or would they be given some kind of respect, almost?

No. They'd just be treated like everything else. Maybe if he found a body out in the wild, lying out in the jetty, he'd drag them to shelter. Give them a respite. The respect that they deserved.

"This fucking sucks." Anthony murmured, popping a Life Saver into his mouth. Thanks, Ivan. Food tastes twice as sweet when you steal it from a murderer. Was he dead too? Had he ran into the Respects, got his ass kicked, and was lying dead somewhere? It would be just desserts, but he wanted to be the one who killed him. Who got revenge for Giselle. Not Fisk, not Vasily, not somebody who only knew her for how she had joined their fucking player group, because they didn't know her like he did. What they saw was a... a fake, a fraud, an invention of hers. They never knew the true Giselle, and they never did. They never would.

They'd never know the people who were killed, who were murdered, for anything but their Character, or what they perceived to be their Character, anyway. They wouldn't give a shit about the real Seth Dunn, or the real Jasper Suárez-King, they only cared about what they were on the island. It was disgusting, but how many times had he said that? Too many. It was repetitive, repeating repetitively. But the focus should be on how they lived, not how they were killed.

He couldn't do anything about that from here, though. All he could do was hope that he survived this thing, so that he might be able to share who they really were, before this game, their Character, became the only thing left of them.

[Primrosette]

He was coming back here.

The yacht.

The place where he had awoken outside of. Where he began everything. God, he didn't know why he was even doing this. What was he even hoping to find on his own? Why did he even leave Hannah on her own? Did he really think that doing this was for her? For anyone else? He wasn't even sure if his idea was going to work. No, not an idea. A choice of his own. He was making this choice for himself. Not his fans. Not his friends. Not his parents. Not anyone else.

Myself.

He let out a few shaky breathes. In, out, in, out. He placed a bandaged hand on his chest, making sure that his beating heart was still beating normally. It was. Cool, cool, nice! He moved his hand back to his side and he made sure to beam the light of the flashlight along the edge of the yacht. His footsteps were light and airy.

Was he really hoping to find who or what he was looking for here?

"Urgh, damn." He muttered softly under his breath. Kind of praying that he was alone and kind of not.

Which one was more hopeful for him personally?

He stopped walking and he continued to shine the light over the yacht.

[Applesintime]

He was about to head back in. What good would waiting outside do him? You get a cold or something, you're fucked. No cough syrup, and if you're hiding from someone, fighting for your life, you better not sneeze, or you're fucked doubly so. He was sure that it was fake, the idea that being out in the cold for so long would give you a cold or the flu, but he wasn't out to figure it out. Using the board as a kind of prop, he pushed himself up, and was about to head into the yacht's interior when a sudden beam of light cut through the night, examining the side of the yacht. Shit.

He paused, concealed inside the stairwell leading down to the yacht's rooms. There was probably a name for that, but right now he didn't care what it was called, he cared about who was shining their flashlight everywhere. A player? A non-player? Someone on his team? There were a lot of possibilities. If they were a player, well, he could cut the lights and ambush them in the dark inside of the yacht. Or just hide. If they weren't a player, then they could continue on their merry fucking way. Really, the only downside was letting them go away. Because he would never know.

"Who's there?" Anthony called out, his head briefly peaking around the side of the bulkhead. He didn't see anyone, but it was dark, and if they had a gun, he could dip back into the boat and let the fun begin. If they didn't, or weren't playing at all, well, nothing was gonna happen. He'd maybe have a friend, or an ally. Either way, he couldn't see a bad outcome.

Maybe that was just his bravado talking.

[Primrosette]

The sudden voice almost made Beau almost scramble backwards onto his backside, but he forced his unstable legs to stay up straight and he accidentally waved the flashlight around like he was at a fricking rave or something of that matter. Awesome! He was getting unnecessarily jumpy for no reason. Well, no. That kinda wasn't true. If it had been Gregory calling out, he would have possibly screamed like a banshee and ran off like a gazelle fleeing a lion or a tiger. Whichever sounded cooler in his mind.

Good news! It was Anthony!

Bad news! It was Anthony!

They hadn't really left off before on a really good note and now this was his chance to actually talk things out with the other boy. But he wasn't sure if he would be welcome to join him up on the yacht. Well, there was a way to find out and Beau was going to take it. It might be his last chance after all.

"It's Beau!" He yelled back.

Wait, why was he yelling back?

"Sorry, man! I mean, it's me, Beau!" He said a bit more quieter and lowly. Just in case there were any players around that he couldn't see.

[Applesintime]

Beau.

Thank God.

"Oh, fuck, Beau! I thought you might've been someone looking for someone to kill." Anthony stepped out from the bulkhead, back onto the deck of the boat. He wasn't exactly intending to run into anyone, especially not Beau, but despite how angry Anthony had been the last time they met, he was more than happy to see him. He was a proper akhi. The girl that was with him when they met back up on the ferry wasn't with him anymore, so there was a couple of possibilities; she was dead, Beau had left her, or she was just lurking around somewhere. The former was unlikely, because Beau didn't seem like a player, so it was probably the latter two options.

"Fuck, akhi, how've you been? Come on, on the yacht. Sorry for earlier, I was just... pissed. You know how it feels." Beau had mentioned something about a friend dying. Cassini? He hadn't actually seen them together, but Beau wasn't the kind of guy to get pissed over nothing, innit? So yeah, he was probably friends with her. And then Anthony had been an ass to him and that was an asshole move, but now he had a chance to make it up. You lose a friend because you tried to kill them for killing, you rekindle a friendship that kinda failed because you called them a player ally for not wanting to murder them. Funny how it works. But really, he was happy to see him. Someone who he could trust.

"Where's your friend? Uh, Hannah?"

He was curious. Sue him.

[Primrosette]

Beau almost felt himself burst out into laughter. Him looking to kill anyone was pretty out of there and it just felt so ridiculous to even consider it. Having someone's blood on his hands. Unreal. Never wanted it. Ever, ever, ever.

"Heh. Gosh, I can't even hurt an alligator, man. Not that I would want to! I rather have one as an awesome pet!" He smiled brightly as he thought about the alligator back at the park and he wished that he was back there. Trying to pull off his heroic act again. Even if it was more trouble that he had caused. He remembered getting scolded by his parents when he got home. He understood why afterwards. His parents had been worried about him getting hurt....

Hah. Look at him now. He was doing good in that department because of how he wasn't judging other people well at all.

How was he going? Oh boy, did he really want to talk about another one of Anthony's teammates' attacking and trying to kill him? Possibly not. But since Anthony asked about it, he was the type to open up about anything that was on his mind. Expect he didn't wake Hannah up to tell her why he left her. He had done a note. Cowardly act. But he didn't want to see her cry again. Selfish of him. He would have changed his mind about everything he was doing now if he had gone down that path.

Akhi.... Doesn't that mean brother or something?

Beau winced a little in the darkness. He was relieved that Anthony couldn't see his face from when he was standing and he was mulling over what to do next. Anthony was inviting him to join him and he had apologized for how he behaved before. Beau didn't understand why he felt like his heartstrings were getting tugged at. God, this felt more painful as he knew what he was going to do to Anthony. He couldn't stop it now. He was already here. So no turning back now.

"Well, I've been as okay as I've ever been. Uh, mostly. Got hurt again by another one of your teammates. Bee boy. I mean, Gregory Miller. You might want to avoid him even if he is your teammate. Since there are team kills going on." Beau was talking as if it was just a normal conversation back at home and he made his way onto the yacht, avoiding as much bird crap as he could. Gross! "Hey, it's alright, Anthony. I get it. I'm sorry for not being any help back then. I... My mind was all over the place. Just thinking about Cassini...." He paused and he let out a shaky breath, not wanting to think about it. "Y-Yeah...."

Beau tensed up slightly when Anthony mentioned Hannah and he bit his lower lip that had been quivering a little.

"Oh. Hannah's resting at the shopboat. I... I left her."

It stung to say the words out in the open.

But he was going to be honest. He couldn't lie. Not to anyone.

[Applesintime]

"Yeah, you wouldn't hurt the alligator, you'd go up to it with a camera and try and record it for your Youtube channel. Then I'd have to throw some Coke at it and distract it from eating you." Chuckling, Anthony leaned against the bulkhead, watching Beau step onto the yacht. Back then, all Anthony had to worry about was that Beau would get himself killed chasing clout, and now he had to worry about both Beau and himself getting killed by somebody chasing clout. And he didn't even have a can of Season 66 Coke to go alongside the fear of death.

One of his team had attacked Beau. Gregory Miller. Some junior who was what, obsessed with bees or something? He tried to give Anthony a jar of honey or something once, and Anthony took it, but he never actually used it because honestly, he didn't like honey. And now he had to worry about this guy going around and trying to kill people. Kill more innocent people. Why were his team so bloodthirsty? How many had been said last time, six? Six people, dead at his team's hands? Ben had taken a sort of ghoulish pride in it, but it disgusted him.

"Another teammate? Who was the first one?" Right, Beau had mentioned back on the ferry that someone had tried shooting him, someone on Anthony's team. He'd been too focused on the guy who had murdered Giselle to care, but now it was just Beau and him, no Ivan or Lucille or Hannah or anyone else. They were playing, and he was going to kill them. Fuck Ben, fuck team spirit. If only four kids made it to the end of this instead of four kids and a murderer, he'd be perfectly fucking happy. If they had a gun and he was on their team, then he could get close, shank them, and take the gun. Kill two birds with one stone.

"And, uh, don't worry about it. I get it." He had felt the same way, when Seth died, when Ivan killed Giselle, when really, everyone died. Angry. Unable to deal with the fact that you'll never see them again. Well, he would. Just not here. Just not on Earth. And hopefully, he wouldn't be seeing them anytime soon.

He left her?

"You left her? Why?" Beau wasn't the kind of guy to just up and leave someone for no reason. Maybe she had been a little bit too eager to kill someone, maybe they got into a fight - verbal, not an actual fight - and Beau had stormed off. But then again, they didn't fit Beau. That didn't fit Beau. He wasn't the kind of guy to get into an argument with someone over nothing, and sure, he might have been a little annoyed with him on the ferry, but that was because, admittedly, he was being a dick.

Where was he?

"You OK?" Because, Beau being like this wasn't normal. He was a lot more bubbly and cheerful and to be honest, he was a dumbass, but in a sort of endearing way. His body langauge was off, a little subdued, and he wanted to know what had happened. Maybe it had something to do with Hannah? Who knows.

[Primrosette]

Reminiscing about the past was making Beau smile more openly and he wished that it was as simple as that now. Trying to impress all of his fans in the most stupidest ways possible. Heck, even when Al got annoyed at him for all of his dumb pranks or his impulsive risks of getting himself hurt for the sake of it. He always did do things more for other people. He liked to keep people happy. Never sad or angry or disappointed or any other types of emotions.

Oh, right. Anthony had been too angry to listen to him about his other teammate at the time. Gosh, it almost felt like a lifetime ago. Beau had to think about her name for a few seconds.

"Uh...."

Oh! He remembered now!

"Gabriela Garcia-Campos. She shot at me and managed to nick me. I threw a spoon at her face and I had to bail afterwards with her still shooting at me. Aww, kinda miss having my spoon, to be honest. Hahaha."

Beau was shifted his feet to the sides, feeling a bit uneasy. Gosh, it really was a lot harder than he thought to talk about this. He wondered what the whole world was thinking about him right now. Actually, none of them really mattered. The only person who mattered right now to Beau was Anthony.

Selfishness.

Beau cleared his throat awkwardly and he felt his eyes trying to not look at Anthony's own eyes as he stepped closer to him, stepping closer into a lighter area. "I left her because.... Because I don't want to see her cry over me again. She felt like she failed me for not being able to stop Gregory for me and I.... I don't want to see her in tears again." He said simply as he turned off the flashlight that was hanging by his side limply and he then took off his hat with his own hand, fanning it in front of himself. "I didn't want her to see me in a helpless state again. I don't like being seen as that."

Anthony was asking if he was okay and Beau almost felt like he was about to burst into tears then. No, he couldn't cry. Not yet.

"Well.... I'm not really okay. No."

He felt his body tremble a little and he did his best to ignore it.

"I did actually want to find you for a reason anyway."

[Applesintime]

Gabriela. For fuck's sake! Couldn't he have Nadine or something on his team, someone who was good and wouldn't fucking murder people? Someone who wasn't just trying to satisfy their want to be on the camera, on the highlight rolls, or just plain murder people for whatever goddamn reason they had? Still, knowing it was her made the thought of killing her... easier, in a way. She wasn't a good person to begin with, and now that she was trying to play, well, she wasn't trying what with Carol, but the point was that it was easy. Those who live by the sword die by the sword, reh teh teh. With her shooting Beau, it was personal.

"I'll make sure she doesn't try and kill any more of my friends, Beau, don't worry." Of course, the way he intended to make her stop killing people was by taking that gun of hers and shooting her in the fucking head with it, but Ben didn't need to know that. If he brought it up, which he probably wouldn't, because it was like, late. Late late. It was probably the AM by now, but Anthony couldn't tell because there wasn't a damn watch anywhere.

Stepping towards Beau as he stepped towards him, Anthony noted the look on his face; well, what was notable was that he was looking down, trying to avoid his eyes. He hadn't done something to Hannah, had he? Something that they would both regret in the end? It would explain his shifty body language, and how-

No. He would trust Beau. And as Beau spoke, about how he left her because he didn't want to see her cry because she failed to protect him, he felt a sigh of relief course through his body. Beau wasn't a killer. He wasn't actually sure if Beau could even think about killing someone, let alone actually do the deed. The world needed more of him, more selfless people, not Seo-yuns and Fisks who would just do whatever the fuck they wanted as long as it fueled their own ego, as long as it made them feel better. Lovers of pleasure, rather than lovers of good. Cunts.

Beau was trembling now, and he wasn't OK. Automatically, Anthony stepped forwards to put a hand on his shoulders, hoping that it would help somehow. He was good - well, he was OK at healing medical woes, but he was no psychiatrist.

"You wanted to find... me? What for? Do you just wanna talk about shit?"

[Primrosette]

"Mmm. Alright, alright. Good to know that you'll look for other people." Beau almost choked up there. But he forced the threatening sob away.

Not yet, Beau, not yet.

Anthony had put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and it felt so unreal that he was really going to go through with this. He felt so selfish. He was selfish. Just tell him.

Tell him, Beau!

"Yeah, uhhm.... God, I can't believe that I'm gonna say this...."

He let out a heavy, deep breath and he stared at Anthony with a more determined look in his light blue eyes.

"I want you to end it for me, Anthony."

[Applesintime]

To

"To..."

What?

"What?"

[Primrosette]

No turning back.

Beau was forcing himself to smile. Trying to reassure Anthony. Trying to reassure himself. Trying to reassure anyone who wanted to die by their own choice by someone else's hands. By someone that they trusted. Because they were too afraid to do it themselves.

"I want you to kill me."

It felt so weird for him to say. To want this from Anthony.

[Applesintime]

At first, Anthony was unable to respond. Sure, his mouth was open, and he was trying to push words out of his mouth with his vocal cords, but no matter how much he tried, attempted to push words out, to ask why, how, all he could do was kinda make a sort of sad sighing noise. Beau wanted him, Anthony, to kill him? What? It didn't make sense, it made about as much sense as fucking, one of those anime with a billion spin offs and alternative universes, but it was real, it was right here, and it was him who was being asked to kill Beau.

"What? Why? Why do you wanna- why me?" Eventually, he managed to get something out, instead of keeping his mouth open. No matter how shocked he might actually feel, only a fraction of it might have actually been displayed on his face.

It was hard to accept. Beau, normally the jokey, lively guy who even if whatever he said was stupid or dumb or he ended up doing something stupid, was always trying to make people laugh. It was hard to reconcile that image Anthony had of him, of the alligator shit, of them just hanging out at lunch and Beau trying to do stupid shit for his Youtube channel with his other friend, Al, with the current image of Beau looking him in the eyes and asking him to kill him.

[Primrosette]

Why?

Anthony asking this was one of the reasons. Beau wanted someone to question him about such a request. Asking someone kill him seemed so immoral. Beau almost felt himself wanting to slap himself for even wanting this. But it made all sense to him. He knew that he should keep on surviving for Hannah's sake, for Anthony's sake, maybe Jewel's sake. But he didn't want to lose himself to this twisted show.

"I trust you."

It was a simple answer. But Beau knew that he had to give Anthony more than that. It wasn't good enough.

"I mean, I rather die by the hands of someone that I trust than people who are just so bloodthirsty for wanting to be a star or famous, or if they just hated everyone and wanted to kill everyone anyway. I rather have someone who will try to do something right." Beau said quietly as he moved his hand to poke Anthony's chest slightly and his smile was a bit wobbly now. "It.... It has to be you, Anthony. No one else. I can't put Hannah through it. I...."

He wanted to go inside. The darkness felt like it was suffocating. But then the waves were so effortlessly loud.

"I just want to be me when I die."

A tear rolled down his cheek and he let out a croaky chuckle.

He didn't want to cry.

[Applesintime]

He trusted him. Beau trusted him, and that's why he wanted Anthony to kill him. It made sense, but in a sort of fucked up way that could only happen on SOTF. But, even knowing that it was Beau's wish, could he even actually bring himself to do it? For one, he had already lost so many friends, and could he bring himself to remove another one? To know that his blood would be on his hands forever? And was it even right? He wasn't even sure if the Bible said anything about if your friend wanted you to kill him so he could die himself, but he didn't- fuck, he didn't know. Emotions were flooding through him; sadness, a weird feeling of anxiety, but ultimately, a sense of acceptance. Because, in the end?

It was mercy.

Not murder.

Because, at the end of the day, if Anthony could give him a death that was peaceful, quiet, what he wanted, then it was worth it. Because so many people had already died in pain, murdered by their former classmates, and he didn't want that fate to befall Beau, for his last moments to be pain and terror for the benefit of some psychotic bitch who wanted to make herself famous or a sociopath. Because, ultimately, Beau was his friend, and if his dying wish was for Anthony to kill him, then he'd do his god damned best to make it peaceful, quick and as painless as he could. It wasn't a player, it wasn't some murderer, but this would be just as right as if Beau was. But he wasn't, and that's why he was doing this.

"OK. OK." He murmured quietly, breathlessly, closing his eyes, trying to think. "OK. I'll... I'll kill you. Do you have any ideas as to... how? Because frankly, I only have a wooden board and a glass shiv, and those aren't renown for their quick and painless methods." He wished he had that fucking gun. RJ just had to fucking see it, didn't he. It would be so much easier if Beau could be shot. Painless and quick. But he had to deal with the cards he had.

Beau wanted to die as himself, and if it was the last goddamn thing Anthony did on this Earth, he would grant that last wish.