Coming home had gone smoother than leaving. That was just about the most positive thing Liv could say in favor of it. After taking their pictures, plucking the Synth Weapon, retrieving the untampered stolen tech, and taking the ring that hung on Ainsley’s finger, they hadn’t encountered any real issues– all except the argument that brewed once Liv had recovered fully.

  Anthony had strictly gone against her wishes. Even if they were a team, Liv was the de facto leader. She had the highest score, and she was the one who chose him– he was supposed to know that better than anyone. Although he was her good friend: he had broken her trust, made ploys for power, and openly went behind her back. So much blood on their hands, and for what? Because he was a bit suspicious? That wasn’t good enough, not for Liv at least. Donovan and Charlotte weren’t safe from her ire either, though their arguments weren’t on as shaky ground as Anthony’s

  When they had gotten back, Liv hadn’t faced them before storming off, clearing the stairs in record time. She would’ve been proud if she weren’t so livid. She slams the door to her room as soon as she crests its entrance, her body slumping on her bed, a scream echoing into her pillow. Why wouldn’t they just listen to her, believe in her? Why was this all so damn frustrating? Hell, she probably could’ve handled that better if she were on her own!

  Her team had gone in to give a full report to George. She was supposed to be there like last time, but she decided against it. Trouble be damned, she wasn’t staying in a room with Anthony more than she needed.

  She seethes by herself, her mind jumping between a fantasy of beating Anthony in front of everyone to imagining a world where she had a team who actually respected her. That thinking is interrupted by a rhythmic knocking on her door, one all too familiar.

  She grunts, pushing herself off with more effort than she would care to admit. Her legs wobbled like jelly, slowly hobbling to the door with exhausted steps. The door slowly creaks open with a turn of the knob, the familiar figure of George standing on the other side.

  “I’m coming in, kiddo.” He states matter of factly, not waiting for a response before he vanishes, the creaking of wood sounding behind her. She turns her head, watching as he leans back in one of the chairs around her dining room table, his feet kicked up and crossed comfortably.

  “Aren’t ya busy?” Liv mutters, taking her own seat across from him. He seemed relaxed as per usual, though he wasn’t as affable as she would typically expect. “I thought ya had warden stuff to do.”

  “I was, but I made some time.” He states, his arms crossing over his chest. “Especially since you didn’t come in to report to me today like you were supposed to.”

  Liv scoffs, her own arms crossing to mirror George’s. “Didn’t need to. Ya got the info, didn’t ya?”

  “It’s about the respect given, kiddo. Theres a certain level of respect I demand as your boss. Showing up to debrief is one.” He responds. “I got the rundown of what happened. Everything turned to shit, and I understand that. But you can’t shut down ‘cause one mission went sour. That shit happens all the damn time; hell, I’d be shocked if anyone didn’t have a mission that went sour in their first five. Mine did, Ms. Bouiour’s did, literally everyone’s did. It’s just the job. It happens.”

  Liv openly glares at his too understanding face, as if he actually understood a fraction of her rage. Was she mad about it turning to shit? Obviously. But to say that was the only reason she was reacting this way? It made her blood boil.

  “It ain’t just that.” Liv mutters, her own feet kicking up as she leans back. “It’s just… My team went behind my back. They were doin’ stuff I didn’t even know ‘bout. Donovan was slinkin’ ‘round, Charlotte was plottin’ with Anthony, and Anthony was tryin’ to act like I was some servant who doesn’t understand anythin’. I know I’m not the greatest at a lot of stuff,” She starts, her head hanging, her eyes locking on her gauntlets. “But I’m tryin’ to learn, but I ain’t learnin’ anythin’ by bein’ kept in the dark all the time. I'd learn more if I was all on my own. Dunno why I even bother...”

  George stares at her for a moment, a flicker of realization flashing behind his eyes. Slowly, he shakes his head, his feet sliding back to the floor as he leans closer. His voice takes on a gentle cadence, acting more like a wise grandpa than either the silly teacher or brutal warden she knew he was.

  “Kiddo, I’m sorry.”

  Liv blinks in shock, her eyebrows shooting up as a pit of anxiety grows in her stomach. She didn’t really like the sound of that.

  “I think I forgot something.” He continues, looking at her and her stunned silence. “I forgot that you’ve never really had a friend before. You don’t really know the norms of conversation and how friendships are supposed to go. That’s not your fault. You’ve never needed to work with other people because you’ve never known other people, but you have to understand that every relationship has a level of give and take.”

  To emphasize his point, he puts both his arms out in a gesture that resembles a scale. They stand on an equal level, only a bit of give on either side. “Think of it as a scale balanced on a pencil. You both have boundaries, and that equalizes everything. When someone begins to pass a boundary, it puts a strain on their side of the scale.” His left begins to fall ever so slightly, the right rising in concert. They can either get back in line to rebalance it, or they keep pushing it and break the scale. Needless to say, that ends the friendship.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Liv slowly nods, a flicker of understanding playing through her mind. She supposed she understood the analogy enough, though he didn’t seem to be done quite yet.

  “Since you don’t communicate your boundaries, everyone’s looking at your scale with a brick wall between them. They have no idea what weight you have, what your boundaries are, and that makes it hard to know when they’re passing a line they shouldn’t.”

  “Shouldn’t they just know though?” Liv questions. “I know I got some trouble with it, but everyone else seems to know what to say ‘n stuff. Reckon it’d be easy.”

  George lets off a soft chuckle, his eyes crinkling just at the edge. It showed his age just a bit, even the strong ticking away with the passage of time. “There are set boundaries for everyday conversations, but everyone's got their own private boundaries. Acquaintances, coworkers, and strangers don’t know them, so they stick to the set boundaries society places. Friends can pass those societal norms because they know each other and are comfortable enough to confide in each other. I don't think I would've done what they did, but I'm not them. I got no grasp on what you kiddos are like to each other.”

  Liv nods her understanding once more, a hum escaping her mouth. So there were levels to it. She did have a question, however– a question that was brewing deep in her mind.

  “If the scale falls, I reckon ya aren’t friends no more. Can ya… Be friends again?”

  “Of course you can. You can always re-balance the scale if you so choose, but remember that you don’t have to be friends with someone ‘till the end of time. Sometimes friendships fall apart, and you just gotta be ok with that: whether its ‘cause you had a fight too big, ‘cause they’re being a dick, or even if you’re just not interested in their company anymore. There are still millions of people in just the Beta alone, and you’re a funny, sweet, and kind kiddo Liv. You got a lot of work to do, like putting boundaries down and communicating instead of shutting down and yelling– baby steps, though.”

  A flush creeps across Liv’s cheeks, a light chuckle peeling from her lips. Compliments just had a way of softening her up, even at her angriest. She didn’t really know why… They just had some sort of effect on her.

  “Ya sure know an awful lot.” Liv says, her hands clasping on her lap.

  George sighs, his gaze glazing over as he stared at her; no, it was more than that. It was like he was staring through her to an olden age: nostalgia, sadness, fondness, and a pang of longing swirling behind his irises.

  “I’ve been around for a while, kiddo.” He says softly, his hand ghosting over the small watch stashed in his pocket. “In our line of work, you don’t get to hold on to friends for too long. Cherish the little moments, ‘cause they’ll be gone before you know it.”

  Liv looks to his half sullen face, a pang of guilt echoing through her heart. Was that one of the societal norms she didn’t know about? He had told her to set and know boundaries…

  “Was that not ok to ask?” Liv questions.

  “Nah, it’s fine kiddo.” He says, a smirk crossing his face once more. “Just got reminded of something. Good to see you’re adopting my advice already, though.”

  “Thanks.” Liv says, a smile of her own spreading across her face. The two sit in relative silence for a bit, enjoying the modicum of silence in their hectic lives. Every pang of silence must, eventually, come to an end as Liv takes a breath, a bit of worry in her voice. “...What do ya reckon I should do now?”

  “Now?” He says, a hum escaping his mouth. “I’m not you, kiddo, so I dunno can’t tell you what to do. What I’d do if I were you is sleep on it. See if it’s really not working out for you. If you think it can be salvaged, lay it all out: your boundaries, your thoughts, everything. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. I’ll personally help you find a new team and I’ll tell Ms. Bouiour how badly you and Anthony worked together. She’s crazy, but she won’t keep you on a team with her kid if she thinks you’ll hamper him in any way...”

  Liv nods slowly, throwing the idea around her mind. She supposes that could work… Though, they’d have to get a mission first. Liv would prefer to get a bit of personal work out of the way before she hopped back in the ring. Her chair scrapes against the floor, the legs bobbing as she pushes herself on to her feet.

  “I reckon yer right… I think I’ll give it another go ‘fore I make a decision. So, uh… Thanks.” She mumbles, waving as she sprints toward the door, only stopping as George yells an “Aye”. She turns her head to him, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

  “Your clothes, Liv.”

  Liv looks down at herself, to her reddish-pink shirt. She hadn’t changed since she got into her altercation, nor had she cleaned herself. She sniffs herself… Nothing; though, her sense of what smells bad was skewed by her years of living in a wasteland. She gives an awkward chuckle before plucking a change of clothes, her bathroom door shutting behind her with a slam.

  George watches on, a rasping chuckle petering from his lips. With a deft motion, he produces a small ring from his hands, the same silver one Ainsley had. It's lost some of its luster, greedily drinking up any light that shines on its surface. George rolls it between his fingers, his mood shifting from a gentle joyous one to a nostalgic sadness. He halts it in his palm, gripping it hard enough to flatten. He reopens his palm, hoping against hope its flat.

  “Not a copycat.” He murmurs, sliding the unperturbed ring back into his pocket. “Guess age has got me wishful thinking.”

  With a grunt of exertion, he stands, already on a course for the door. The knowledge gained by Liv and her team was eye opening, even if none of them were aware of it yet. The Cult of Bathos hadn’t reached out like this since he was a young lad building up the Initiative from the ground. They were moving, and quick. He just hoped the kiddos he’d come to care for wouldn't have to deal with the impossible weight of responsibility like his generation did.