Waking up from a dream, the day was already shrouded in a sense of displacement.

Everything felt off, as if the world was just slightly out of place. I found myself feeling as though I was living someone else's life. Getting ready through the eyes of another. I found myself staring at the mirror for a minute, hardly able to realize that the girl meeting my eyes was my own reflection.

Every step I took, I felt like it was the first I had ever taken a step in this body. As if I were just getting used to how my limbs functioned, how to move my legs and arms in order to move. I even managed to forget how to tie my shoelaces, holding onto the ends of the laces, staring blankly ahead as I waited for the muscle memory to kick in.

But eventually, the feeling faded. A sense of disorder drifting off into nothingness.

As I stepped into the hallway, I was hit with the strong smell of disinfectant, far more potent than usual. I assumed they must have cleaned the hallway at night, as it was also matched with a polished appearance of the hallway. As I stepped past other apartments, I tried to ignore the fragments of the out of place feeling.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped on beside Scott. It also smelled strongly of disinfectant, and the metal appeared clean. Scott looked tired, bags under his eyes and a gaze that seemed distant, not too different from how I had felt earlier.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked, although just from looking at him it was an empty question with an obvious answer. He looked to me, processing the words I had said. It appeared to take him longer than usual before he gently shook his head.

"No sleep..." he mumbled, letting out a sigh before pulling his jacket tighter around him. His glasses began to drift down his nose, and as he pushed them up, it appeared to take an extreme amount of effort just to lift his hand. I found myself curious, but knew that Scott wasn't in the mood to socialize.

On the train ride, we didn't speak much, although that wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. We never spoke much in the mornings, and today of all days didn't seem like an exception. I did find myself growing nervous, dreading seeing Noah as seconds ticked by.

I wondered if Noah had told Evan, or perhaps even a guard. There might even be some guards waiting for us at the train station to take us away. Or, had Scott gone too far? Perhaps he had gone so far that Noah would be beyond broken, a mess of a man incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

And in truth, I wasn't sure which scenario I was more afraid of.

But when I looked over to Scott, I didn't see a man who could ruin another's mental state. I saw a tired boy, his arm barely propping up his head as he closed his eyes, leaning against the glass window. Despite the loud and chaotic surroundings, he had managed to fall asleep.

I sighed, looking out the window. I didn't want to pry, but I couldn't help but feel curious about why he was so tired. Had something happened? I decided to push it aside, not wanting to make myself even more paranoid than I already was.

As the train passed over the tunnel, I saw that there was no lady with her umbrella and briefcase. The school children appeared to take a different route, and the streets seemed barren. The only faces seemed to be the reflections of commuters, and the heavily edited models on billboards.

As we stopped at a station, it seemed the faces blurred together. Instead, I drew my attention to an advertisement that had been placed directly in front of the train window. People had become so desensitized to it, that nobody even gave it so much as a glance.

It had bright colors, a neon orange that transitioned into a neon yellow. It appeared to be selling something tropical, although it was near impossible to tell what the product actually did. There were fruits dancing around the woman's face, although it didn't appear to be something edible.

Then, the screen flickered. For a moment, there was another face on the screen. A face so different that it completely caught me off guard. A man, a man with rough features and messy hair, contrasting immensely against the models.

He had deep black hair, messy and unkempt as if it hadn't been washed in years. His eyes, which shone against his washed-out complexion, appeared to be an odd mixture of blue and green, a deep intensity which reminded me of a predator stalking its prey.

He held himself with confidence, a grin which seemed to hold a thousand lies behind it. Ink designs crawled up his neck. One design, in particular, I soon realized was the exact one that Jordan had around her ring. Another showed various symbols I didn't recognize.

He looked as if he was from another world, another lifetime. But he was young, too young, as if he had only been matched just this year. It was so out of place that it made me wonder if I was imagining it all together. But then, he looked forward.

And all he did was laugh.

It had just been a moment, a flash of the image before it was gone. It returned to the model selling her tropical product, however now it was clear that it was shampoo. I was on edge, my eyes locked onto the billboard as the train began to pull away from the station. As I looked around the train, I tried to find someone who noticed.

But nobody did.

Nobody seemed unsettled or even slightly shocked at the sudden change. It was as if it hadn't even happened, that perhaps it truly had been all made up. But I had seen it so clearly that surely at least one person would have noticed it.

"Hey... Scott?" I felt nervous, paranoid, looking around me as if everyone had their eyes fixed onto me. But something didn't seem right about that face, and I was starting to worry that I was going insane. I gently shook Scott's shoulder, "Scott? Did you see that?"

"See what?" speaking seemed to be a hassle, and as he opened his eyes, his eyelids appeared to be heavier than anything. He was struggling to hold himself up for more than a moment before slumping back against the window, closing his eyes once more, "I'm tired..."

There was no point in trying to talk to him now, especially not with something I could have easily just imagined. Perhaps I was truly going crazy, and eventually I would no longer even remember my own name. I sat back against the train seats, thinking for a moment.

But those eyes seemed so real.

He seemed so real. It wasn't a face I'd seen before, and beyond what I could even imagine. It had been so raw, so imperfect, that it didn't make sense for it to be hanging on a billboard like that. It was like seeing a spelling mistake in a dictionary: it just doesn't happen.

Only a few stops later, we were nearing our stop. Many people had drifted from the train, and now only a few people remained on the carriage. In the distant, I watched as storm clouds began to roll in over the city. Dark grey premonitions, giving a dimmer light to the outside city, a contrast to the harsh overhead lights of the train.

I shook Scott awake, and he still looked as though he was going to fall back asleep. It didn't feel like the morning, and with the overhead clouds, it appeared to be growing darker by the minute. Eventually, however, Scott managed to pull himself up, and we stepped off the train.

"Why didn't you sleep?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. I had thought of all the scenarios in my head on that train ride, but none of them seemed to make any sense given Scott's character. We began to slowly walk down our usual path to work, although Scott seemed to be walking at a much slower pace.

"Jessica attempted to make advancements on me..." Scott said dryly, scowling as he let out a lingering sigh. He pushed his glasses up, turning to me with a sense of annoyance, "When I denied her, she had a meltdown. I won't go into detail but I'm sure you can imagine what she did... told me to sleep on the sofa, although I was unable to sleep..."

Immediately, I felt revolted, hateful towards Jessie. All I wanted to do was grab the brat by her hair and drag her down a staircase covered in thumbtacks. But of course, that was off the table, for more reasons that one. I felt beyond guilty for Scott, wishing I could have done something.

Then, there was the fact that she made advancements on him. Something about it made me feel sick, made me feel even angrier, although I wasn't sure why that word specifically triggered this emotion. It put a sour taste in my mouth, the very thought of where it may lead.

"Why didn't you just knock on my door?" I asked, suddenly wishing he did. I would have been awake, or at least, easily woken. The nightmare would have been broken, and perhaps Scott may have managed to find somewhere to sleep, "I'm sure Jake wouldn't have minded... he could have-"

Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes. Although he was exhausted, he seemed to be just as critical as usual. Somehow, it made me feel slightly better that he was still somewhat him, even if it was just his cynical judgments.

"I don't think I need to even get into how and why that idea would fail," he said, and my stomach knotted. Although he wasn't literally calling me an idiot as he commonly did, the sentence had the same undertones. I flinched, looking away. In the distance, there was a rumble of thunder.

"You shouldn't have to put up with her..." I muttered, kicking a stone to the side. Today was already too much, and I wished for nothing for than for it to be over, despite it only just starting. I dug my hands into my pockets, a sinking feeling overwhelming me.

"I know..." he stopped walking, causing me to stop as well. When I looked up, I met his eyes, and although he was tired, he kept them fixed on me. He let out a sigh, slowly blinking before he said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I stopped, trying to read him, although he was always almost completely unreadable. He took a step forward, another deep rumble in the air. It was much louder now, a vibrating boom which I felt in my whole body.

"Do you think anyone would care if I disappeared?"