As the minutes passed while riding to work for another challenging day, Jo fought the desire to tell her about the horrors he witnessed while asleep. In his opinion, he believed that riding a worn-out bus with tons of loud people crammed inside was not conducive for letting out one’s deepest fears.

Should he further delay what should be a private discussion? Looking at Celia, she seemed calm even with them sharing seats with two other persons and someone’s knees rocking the seat Jo sat on.

The one alongside him with big, red lips, freckles along her nose and cheeks, a scar that trailed her left arm, and a long neck, got up to look down at the one who was making their ride uncomfortable. "Can you stop doing that with your legs? The boy near me can't sit well because of them."

In response, the girl got up to tower over her so much, her head was mere inches from the uppermost reaches of the bus. She stated that her limbs were quite long and couldn’t help it if the available leg room could not accommodate taller persons like her.

"You knew you did that just to annoy him!"

"I said already why it's not so simple, weird neck." Folded arms while leaning in showed off her refusal to sympathise.

"Don't think you can get away with that, bitch!"

While in the midst of arguing, the tall girl bent her back to grab the girl with red lips with her overgrown fingernails. Being close to the tall girl’s pungent breath and her hair that barely passed her ears, she struggled to fight back. The other girl that sat with Jo and Celia got up to defend the red-lipped girl.

Since the start of the exchange, the other girl was rather quiet. Before that, she was warm and friendly—two qualities that got everyone near her to open up. And now this very person with a round face, thick legs, and a wide waist would jump in for people she had come to learn about less than an hour ago.

For Jo and Celia, this highlighted she became attached to people too quickly, really liked to fight, or was generally a troublemaker. Their squabble got intense enough for the guards sitting next to the youthful driver with razor bumps to intervene.

As the guards—one flappy-eared and the other riddled with clear, branching veins on their skin—got up to restrain those fighting, the front and rear right tires of the bus drove over a pothole, throwing those standing or sitting off-balance. This loosened the grip of the flappy-eared guard holding the arm of the tall girl, sending unkempt nails to slash across the forehead of Celia. She was standing when this occurred, not wanting a repeat of being dragged while hiding like last time.

Celia rushed to cover the bleeding gash, causing the guards to become more aggressive. They talked at the top of their lungs, directing those involved in the tussle to behave or suffer the consequences. However, they were secretly glad. In their reports, they could exaggerate this as a revolt and acquire a nice bonus for putting their bodies on the line against these ruffians.

For the flappy-eared Ironside brute that allowed Celia to get cut, that kind of money might allow him to finally buy his son the new action figure based on the hot Mr. Spandex superhero show.

He wore blue and yellow and did his best to protect the city against nefarious villains like Charlie Ghoul, the destructive Lazer Blazer, and The Shake—an earthquake-generating hero turned supervillain after the questionable police investigation of his wife’s murder. And with the money left over from this purchase, he could buy his wife some jewellery to make her feel good about being away for so long.

Throughout his imagining of lies and greed for his family’s sake, the other guard with pronounced veins sped back to their seats to grab the first aid kit below them to tend to her. All guards in any Ironside training facility had to learn basic first aid. Using wipes to clear the blood that fell down her face freed him to dab cotton balls drowned in rubbing alcohol to kill any infectious bacteria.

Celia cried out as he did his best to clean the surrounding area. The concern of alcohol going into her eye was abated when he explained that squeezing out all the fluid before application would mean the chance of that happening was slim to none. Even with her concern expelled, the burning would have her bite her lip and hold her breath.

“But for good measure,” said the guard treating her. “Close your eyes in case any gets in.”

She hustled to shut her eyelids and this caused the burning to feel more like tingling. Celia didn’t know if he was done cleaning the cut or not, but somehow closing her eyes made it all the more bearable as she felt his hands smooth out something on her forehead.

“You can open your eyes now. I’m done.”

The cut she got from the tall girl was now patched with a pink bandage, after which all of them were warned once more before they were left in their seats.

Jo hated his inability to respond to the hurt his friend experienced. He just remained at the sidelines to allow the guards to deal with the situation. More could have been done, but what could a kid like him do when angry guards with batons and tazers came at them?

He didn’t want his attempt to help be misconstrued and lead to electric shocks or beatings. Being healthy was a privilege in the bad environment they lived and worked in and he preferred to stay that way for as long as possible.

Performing an attentive sweep, he saw a quiet bus, no potholes he was aware of, and seated guards. Outside of the girl with the round face and the other with red lips that could overhear their conversation, these were prime conditions to tell her. “Celia? I’m ready to talk about my nightmares.”

She managed to exchange positions with the girl closest to him and readied herself.

Jo noted that being next to her was better than having her next to the window. He then tilted his head and spoke from the depths of his conscience. The incestual sex and violence he described stunned her and one of the girls who listened with intent. All that was left to explain was her involvement in his nightmares.

After the first words about her were spoken, the sharp sputtering of the engine forced the bus to stop on the road. They were all made to stay inside while a tow truck was called to bring them to the factory. As he was about to resume talking about her in his nightmares, the one with red lips butted in. “That’s quite interesting. Surprised you haven’t truly gone crazy yet.”

I can’t catch a break, can’t I? His face was in his palm to smother the frustration. Jo did what he could to ignore her until she said he needed help for his problems. He stated to not be worried since he had thought about making an appointment soon.

The lips of the red-lipped girl commended him for being concerned about his own mental health. “Oh, okay. Good to know you’re aware of it. You would have to wait a while, though…”

Jo thought for her voice to sound that much like a brat felt fake. However, what she just said prompted him to want more out of her, causing her to indicate the length of the waiting list would mean he would have to wait at least three months to be examined.

Learning this made him doubt going there in the first place. But with how bad they became and the likelihood of them getting worse being quite high, he would go anyway even if he had to wait a while.

“Great! Doing your appointment today is better than leaving it for another day.”

“Are you done now?”

She leaned in with her hands on top of her hips. “You two can resume with what you were talking about. Learning about the trauma of others fulfills me.”

Jo rolled his eyes and continued with what he was saying until Celia stopped him.

“I think I know more than enough, Jo. At this rate, I’ll get nightmares like you.”

“B—Bu—”

“Well then, you can just tell me about it another time if you want to so bad. I don’t need my brain to be scarred even more.”

While the details about her voice speaking to him and the ending of their relationship being well articulated before the pause, he haven’t even reached the perverted stuff his parents said about them.

The red-lipped girl placed her index finger and thumb on her chin and exclaimed how underwhelming it was to cut their talk short.

“Can you pleaseeeee shut up!” He slammed his head into the back of the seat in front of him. By now, Jo would prefer if the red-lipped girl glued her mouth shut. The one with the round face had the decency to mind her own business, so why not her?

The arrival of the tow truck meant a ten to fifteen minute drive to the factory. Jo was happy to go to his forklift for once while Celia knew they would not have to work later than usual despite the delay. But since he knew they would arrive early, Jo could go to the clinic due to them opening prior to work to make an appointment.

Once there, he approached the bald nurse at the front desk to explain why he came to them.

“Sorry to say this..."

Jo didn't like how she started, for such words seldom came with good news to his being.

"Due to a backlog of patients that’s taking us months to clear, we would not accept the creation of any appointments at the moment.”

Jo kept his composure as the nurse’s statement hit. He couldn’t imagine waiting several more months just to organise a talk with a trained professional. The bus would have to carry his dejected body back to Bale with Celia to comfort him and his sanity.

But the corporation didn’t care. They just wanted them to show up on time, complete their work, and shut up!