Monthly Bonus Content #1: 'A Fading Light' (Alina and Waiter Version) (Patreon)

[Alternate Text: An image of a lonely lamppost with a light that fails to illuminate much of the immediate surroundings. There's a sense of eeriness but also mystery. ‘A Fading Light' acts as the title with soft rounded edges; it's the same faint yellow as the weak light source.]

[Sidenote: I realized just how difficult it is to write in Mal's perspective due to spoilers, so I've swapped a few things. This piece is about Mal and A's dynamic as told from A's POV with Mal heavily featuring in it to provide hints/mystery. I have a different post for their birthday. 🏍

I also didn't want to have too many duplicated writings due to the gender switching, so I stuck with Alina/Alek plus the Waiter/the Waitress. Alex is owed one when A is in a future piece. 💛 This writing assumes a positive past history between the MC and A; they looked up to the MC as a kid. :D]

_ _ _

"Stupid curfew."

The pinecone Alina is kicking around with each step forward is quickly losing its more spherical shape, large pieces of it flaking off.

"Stupid rules."

Another kick, although this one's far rougher, forcing her to skip a little to keep up this game.

"Stupid meet-ugly."

That wasn't a kick so much as a well-aimed punt; the abused pinecone sails through the air to land elsewhere in the recreation park. It rolls to an area that's 'out of bounds' because she isn't going to directly worry James by venturing into the woods all alone. They were supposed to go together! You were supposed to be there too, like one of your old adventures, except that didn't happen. There's nothing 'meet-cute', or technically 're-meet cute', about rejection.

What's worse is James did the rejecting…

Maybe he's too caught up in your return home, but they can totally share time with you, even Verner got a chance to go searching with you.

Alina has nothing else to petulantly kick on the way to her bicycle, which only helps the honest disappointment overtake her frustration. She continues walking further from the volunteer area to retrieve—

Ring, ring, ring. Ring ring. Ring, ring, ring.

Wait, that's not just any random bike bell. It's hers, a jaunty, extra high-pitched one that James bought her to avoid accidents. Who's touching her prized bike on an already sucky night? Alina adopts a much faster pace, almost running, as she cuts through the side lot of cars, taking the more desolate shortcut to find where she leaned her bicycle up against a tree.

It's still there.

The lampposts around the edges of the main recreation park create pockets of light, but she's in between two of them near the lonely outskirts. She didn't have a bike lock on her tonight; she knows James would be scolding her for being so close to the forest after dark when it's not their property—their land. Trees line the area, rising up just behind her bike. What could've messed with the bell? Her eyes bore into the shadows that are made darker by the flickering light trying to illuminate them.

Of course, the old lampposts had to start slowly strobing now of all times. It's perfect.

Alina bites back a weak laugh at the cliche timing until a twig sharply snaps followed by a louder noise just off to the left of where she's standing. Wood cracks as if an entire branch fell down in a way that can't be rationalized as a squirrel, or it would need to  be an army of pudgy squirrels congregating on a single branch. She unfreezes, reaching for the handlebars right when a ring sounds, forcing her to jerk her head away from the woods to see that a hand rests itself near hers, fingers on the little lever.

Ring ring ring.

"What the—Shit?!" Alina half-exclaims, nearly dropping her bike, though Mal steadies it. Her heart is racing despite being used to how he can appear out of nowhere. "You can't do that when Milton's missing! That's illegal, bad Mal."

His smile doesn't hold any trace of sympathy, but his laughter includes her in on the joke.

"That's a double negative, so I'm technically good," he smoothly retorts. "I meant to sneak up on you, not scare you. What's wrong?"

"Did you hear that? The cracking?"

"I've heard all kinds of creaking noises tonight," Mal admits after casting a hard look at the woods. "The recent rain must have loosened the roots of some trees. They're only falling."

Alina follows his gaze, unable to appear even half as intimidating as they both stare into the forest. It'd be impossible to know for sure if a tree fell considering the density of them unless she went in there to locate the downed tree, which isn't worth it. "I guess," she concedes.

"What's dimmed your shine?" Mal asks, taking over walking the bike for Alina after indicating the lit area with a tip of his head. "Or is it a who? And do they have a name I need to know?"

"You've already met all of them…"

"[Name]'s little gang?"

Her eyebrows briefly draw together at the word choice, unsure how that applies. She's tempted to say 'clique' but swallows down that remark that isn't exactly fair to you. Her feelings are simply hurt. "Well, yeah, sort of," Alina hedges. "I wanted to use this"—she brandishes the mystery glow stick with flair—"while searching the woods with them. James called it a night."

"Trade?" Mal asks.

The two of them swap the bike for the glow stick.

"I'd recommend you hold onto it," he suggests, tapping the thick plastic against his palm to feel its heft. "Let me guess: you want to know the color?" His smile lengthens into a grin at Alina's narrow-eyed look of warning. "I get it, but you never know when you'll need a light, and this isn't a toy or for a rave. It's one of those professional ones. It's like a flare."

"Okay, cool, but is the flare neon orange, hot pink, some lame cyan? That's even cooler."

"Maybe it'll be enduring crimson," Mal jokes. "It's a to-be-continued mystery—your own personal one." He tosses the glow stick up in the air, letting it twirl a few times before snatching it with ease to present it to Alina.

"Show off," she teases him, but she's smiling once again. "Can I come over?"

"Your brother isn't driving you back home?"

"I doubt he'll actually stay the night." A flicker of something crosses Mal's face that she can't fully parse out aside from how his eyes skirt to the food station area, pensive. "It's okay, if—"

"Unfortunately, serving is what's in the cards for me this evening," Mal interrupts her. "Plus, I don't want you biking over with a kid gone."

"He's missing," Alina knowingly asserts. She is definitely more optimistic. "Don't get all dark. James will find him, or he'll come back soon."

"Okay, with a kid missing."

Mal's dubious emphasis on the word isn't lost on either of them, although they don't take the debate any further when James's truck comes into view. He's stiffly standing near the opened truck bed rather than sitting on it. Alina sighs at the sight, glancing at Mal to see his smile is back in place that's unshakably pleasant, if only his gaze didn't hold some measure of caution.

"I have somewhere I need to be," Mal shares, offering a quick wave to James despite his voice being lowered to a murmur. "I'll see you later. Try not to wander off into the woods until then. Our search party would be very dismal."

"If Milton really is lost, you're going to feel so bad about these jokes later on…"

"That was advice, Alina. Heed it."

His smile falls away when he turns from James to face her with an uncharacteristically intense expression before walking to the food station.

Mal moves as silently as ever, sticking to the shadows before rejoining the other servers beneath the light. She watches him go for a moment. Everyone must be on edge because of looking for a missing person, if it can even shake Mal's disposition. Maybe she needs to cut James more slack for being stressed out.

Alina stuffs the glow stick deeper into her pocket, resolving to act amicable for her brother's benefit on the long car ride home. It isn't easy to shove aside the disappointment where he's concerned; perhaps, it should be after the recent distance caused by your grandfather's case. Your return to town makes her remember the time after the sudden departure—a time where James pulled away.

Will it repeat itself after you leave again…?

She'll just have to make her own adventures.