The Downfall (Part 1)

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A week had passed since Lolita had disappeared in front of everyone in the café.

Needless to say, everyone was quite shocked initially. They had only just discovered there was a real live - well, dead - ghost at the café, yet before they even had the chance to speak to her properly, she was gone.

The café was silent, aside from Tristan, who was weeping quietly. He had dramatically fallen to his knees after Lolita disappeared.

“What...just happened?” Akaash spoke up, “The ghost just disappeared?”

“The exorcist!!!” John Doe exclaimed, “Did he exorcise him?!” He looked around the café. Father Keith was nowhere to be seen.

“Right, where did he go?” said Maisha, slowly.

An awkward silence fell upon the group once again.

“Tristan, are you alright?” Rahim tried to help him up from the ground, “What’s going on?”

Tristan shook Rahim’s hand away. He continued sobbing, his eyes staring off in the distance. He was still looking at the spot in the air, where Lolita had been.

Rika tapped her foot. “WHERE IS THE BALD MAN?” she demanded, “HE MUST HAVE AN EXPLANATION.”

“He already left,” Coco noted, surveying the room.

“I’ll check the back,” Kai said quickly.

He ran inside the kitchen, leaving the rest of the group with still no answers.

“Does somebody have an explanation for this?” Mishti narrowed her eyes, “Why did the ghost lady go away? Why are we all just staring at each other? Why is this party so BOOOOORRRIIIIING?!!!”

“Mishti!” her brother warned.

“What? If we’re all just gonna stand here for the rest of time, then I’m leaving!”

“Mishti, this is not the ti-” Akaash started, but Mishti was already walking out the door.

“Mishti!!” her brother ran after her. He skidded to a stop in front of the door and turned to the group. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back!!”

They all watched as he ran down the street.

Maruto’s mother took him by the hand. “I’m sorry everyone, I think we need to go too.” The others turned their attention to Maruto, who was pale. He was frozen on the spot, whimpering.

“Mark is very afraid of ghosts,” Daisy explained hurriedly. With a quick nod to the crowd, she and her family were gone.

“Is the party over now?” Kulsum whispered to her dad. Her friends had both left now, so she had no reason to stay.

“I’m not sure,” Ahmed laughed nervously. “How long was this event meant to last?” he asked no one in particular.

Maisha and Rahim exchanged glances.

“Um...I suppose we end it here,” she smiled, trying to hide her disappointment, “It’s getting late anyway.”

Without missing a beat, Rika announced, “WE WILL HEADING OUT THEN. THANK YOU FOR ORGANIZING THE EVENT, IT WAS QUITE ENJOYABLE. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR GRADUATION.” She yanked Coco by the arm.

“Wait, mother-!”

The bell rang as the two of them left.

With that, the event had come to an end. One by one, everyone left, aside from Ahmed, Kulsum, Jessica, Sana and the café employees.

Kai and Dazzle had gone to look for Mr. Scanta. Tristan finally gotten off of the floor at some point, and had most likely gone home. The rest of the group were left to clean up the café.

---------------------------------

An hour later, some progress was made, but there was still a lot left to do.

Ahmed picked up Kulsum, who was yawning. “Congratulations on your graduation,” he told Maisha and her friends, “I’m sorry we can’t stay longer.”

“It’s no problem,” Rahim smiled weakly, “Thank you for staying longer to help clean up.” Maisha nodded. She was too tired to speak.

Now only Jessica, Sana, Maisha and Rahim were left.

“The graduates have to clean up their own surprise party,” Jessica laughed, even though it wasn’t funny at all.

Maisha hiccuped.

They all looked over at her, and saw that she was crying.

Sana took her by the shoulder. “Let’s all go home.”

Without a word, they all left.

They didn’t even bother turning off the lights.

They stayed on the whole night, showcasing to any passerby how much of a mess the café was left in.

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A week later.

Tristan had not shown up to work or school since the day Lolita had disappeared.

Meanwhile, the café was busy. It was as though Tristan’s absence, and Lolita’s for that matter, didn’t mean much. Everyone was in their respective seats, drinking their regular drinks and doing their regular routines. Everyone had their own issues to sort out.

Lucky and Ahmed were preparing for their divorce. Anastasia had gone off the radar for a bit in order to procure a new gun. Cherry Plaid was preparing for their new comeback.

Only a few people were attentive enough to see the flyers on the wall. In bright red highlighted font, the words “MISSING PERSON” were plastered all over the café. But barely anyone seemed to care. Everyone was too busy, caught up in their own worlds.

Meanwhile, Scanta was sitting in the back room, filling out some forms. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and once he saw the caller ID, he scrambled to pick it up.

“Genu? Is something wrong? You don’t normally call me at this ti-”

“Scanta. I need you to listen carefully.”

His voice was strong, clear and articulate. He was completely lucid.

Scanta’s stomach dropped. “Genu…”

“My files got leaked,” he said, the resignation clear in his voice.

Scanta hoped he had not heard that correctly. “Your files? Like, the files?”

“Yes. The files I’ve been collecting with information on every single person. Including you.”

“What… What do I do now?” Scanta stood slowly.

Genu remained silent for a second. “Scanta. I don’t think you understand. EVERYTHING is out now. People are going to find out everything and anything. You need to act fast. I can’t help you anymore. I really need to-”

Scanta waited for him to continue. “You need to what, Genu?”

All that could be heard was Genu’s distressed breathing, before the line went dead.

Scanta shuddered involuntarily and slowly got up, shoving his phone into his back pocket.

It’s fine. He could handle this situation. Besides, this was just another day at Café Eris, everyone in their respective seats, drinking their regular drinks and doing their regular routines.

A normal day disrupted by Maruto and Mishti screaming for their lives outside the café.

“NOOO! PLEASE SIR, DON’T TAKE HIM!!!”

A man wearing a pest control uniform ignored Maruto’s screams as he grabbed the racoon’s neck with a rough hand. The raccoon squeaked and cried, and continued to fight as it was shoved into a cage. Maruto’s screams intensified.

Mishti charged full speed at the pest control man, “Let ‘im go, you fat oaf!” She headbutted him but he did not budge. Mishti then unhinged her jaw and clamped her mouth directly on the man’s arm.

“OUCH!” The man yelled, and he kicked Mishti out of reflex.

Mishti flew back, and Maruto ran to check up on her.

“NO! STOP! SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE! HE JUST KICKED HER!!!”

The people passing by only stared, too confused to act.

The man hesitated, feeling guilty about kicking the child, but ultimately continued loading the cage into his van.

Maruto was torn between getting help for his friend, and stopping the man from taking away Trashlord.

When he looked down, Mishti lay in a fetal position, sniffling. She did not want to look weak, but the kick was too strong.

Maruto crouched down beside Mishti, making his decision. In the back of his mind, he registered the sounds of Trashlord squeaking in sadness as pest control drove away with the cage.

He looked towards the café and waved frantically. Tears streamed down his face.

No one turned to look, though. Everyone was preoccupied with Scanta’s announcement.

“Listen up everyone!” he said. He clapped. The café murmured collectively. Scanta’s face was grim, which was unsettling for anyone who knew him. He had their attention.

He cleared his throat.

“We’re all screwed.”

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“MYSTERIOUS INTENTIONS: The most recent album released by indie singer-songwriter John Doe. There are a total of 8 songs, and quite incredibly, not a single one has anything remarkable about it. The album is set to release on [redacted] for $14.99. There is nothing else to note about John Doe or his album.”

-Genu Tibia, Café Eris Dossier, 20XX

John Doe woke to his phone blowing up with notifications. They all scrolled down his screen too fast to read, but he was excited.

Last night, he had created an account for his newest album, ‘Mysterious Intentions,’ and he released all of his songs onto every music platform you could think of.

Now, he was finally getting his big break, just as he’d expected. Just as he’d always dreamed! He had been discovered!

John opened his phone in a hurry, squinting at the bright screen.

He clicked one of the apps and went straight to his mentions.

@kaytlihn592 - definitely something, i guess LOL

@gxxr000 - YOU ACTUALLY RELEASED THIS TRASH?/?? TAKE THE L

@reeahnah - that was the worst thing i’ve ever heard, lmao

John was confused. This must be a glitch, surely these comments were for something else. He continued to scroll through the messages.

@usucklol - just stop making music now dude, and this is coming from a place of love

@treeee - do us a favour and delete these songs bro

@nanaba - WHO NAMES A SONG GEORGE? THIS BETTER NOT BE ABOUT YOURSELF

John couldn’t stop scrolling through his messages. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

He finally reached it. Someone made a reaction video to his album, and it went viral.

The title of the reaction video, “IS THIS THE WORST ALBUM IN THE WORLD?”

John felt like the world was ending. How could this happen? How could this happen to him???

He stared at the video.

Posted 4:19 PM Yesterday.

This was the worst day of his life.

If only this wretched stranger had not stumbled upon his masterpiece and decided to abuse it. If only this person had not been jealous, and decided to make this video yesterday.

But it was too late.

The video had already gone viral.

If only time could turn back.

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“THOMAS LEMOTEUR-DURÉSERVOIR.DOCX: A file containing the details of all the bribes Thomas Lemoteur-duréservoir of Rue Tomel Law Firm received from opposing law firms. Thomas was often bought out by the opposing party, which let the case proceed smoothly for their client.

Additionally, on the second page is a list of witnesses he blackmailed. In the case that Thomas decided to genuinely represent his client, he would often resort to creating false witnesses, or blackmailing the witnesses of the opposing party.”

-Genu Tibia, Café Eris Dossier, 20XX

“Darling, please eat the potatoes too. Don’t leave them on the side,” Ahmed called groggily to his daughter.

Ahmed had just woken up to Kulsum slapping him because she was late for school.

“Pa, you look tired.”

He was.

“I’m alright, Kulsum. Just eat your breakfast and then I’ll drop you off.”

She pouted, “Are we walking again? Boo! I don’t want to walk. I want to take the car.”

“We don’t have a car right now dear. Remember, I explained to you that your Ma and I are having some issues. We have to pay for lawyers, and a bunch of other important people who are going to help us. So, money is limited.”

“Ok well. Ma is a lawyer! AND You and Ma always have issues!”

She was right about that one.

“I think you should get a job!” Kulsum remarked.

Ahmed sighed, “I’m trying dear.”

Obviously 8 year old Kulsum had no comprehension of the financial stress that unemployed Ahmed was under. He’d never had to worry about this kind of stuff before. And as much as he loved his daughter, he couldn’t keep up with her demands.

Ahmed was hesitant to have this conversation but, if not now when? The court proceedings were next week. Lucky had the expertise, and all he had was the times he’d spent with his daughter.

“Kulsum. Do you like living with me?”

Kulsum thought about it. She thought and she thought.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” Ahmed offered.

“Okay then,” she said, and the conversation stopped there.

After dropping Kulsum off at school Ahmed came back to the tiny rundown apartment and sulked to the ground.

He stared at his wedding ring, which he hadn’t taken off yet. He sat there wondering if Lucky was doing any better.

The answer was no.

Lucky woke up alone at 7am and went about her usual morning routine. Even if divorce and custody battle fees were expensive, she had the knowledge to not need to spend as much. Not to mention, she actually had a job….

As she made her morning tea, Cynthia Bolod texted her phone. Multiple times. Lucky made a face. “Why the heck is she texting me?”

Cynthia: Have you seen? Turn on the news. This is urgent.”

Lucky turned on the TV and there it was.

“Breaking News! Thomas Lemoteur of prestigious downtown law firm Rue Tomel is under arrest for multiple accounts of fraud and extortion. Is this the end of the renowned law firm, generously supported by the reputable Lemoteur family?”

Lucky knew the answer to that. “Oh God. Oh no. Nononono.”

It might not be the end, but they’d never have the trust of the public again. Her chances of custody over Kulsum had plummeted, as if they weren’t already low from the start.

Lucky sat thinking of all the times she should’ve gone to Kulsum’s school events, choir rehersals, and those stupid PTA meetings. Maybe she had failed not only as a lawyer, but as a parent too. How could she say it wasn’t important? How could she think that anything was more important than her child? Isn’t that who she had beared all the insults, overtime and constant fatigue for?

All alone in her large, quiet apartment, she could only think of how much she missed her daughter. She could only think of all the things she now wished she could go back and redo.

She could only think,

If only time could turn back.

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“JESSICA LEMOTEUR: A student at Nerva Srec High School in the 12th grade. Had a bad attitude in middle school, and hung out with the wrong crowd. After a lot of soul searching, she changed her ways in high school.”

-Genu Tibia, Café Eris Dossier, 20XX

Jimothy could not stop re-reading the text from Jessica.

“Listen Jimothy, I just don’t like you like that. I like someone else.”

He tried so hard to impress her, and yet he was rejected. It hurt.

He genuinely did like her.

He was mad. He cried in his room for hours, yelling at his mom every time she tried to check up on him. He punched holes through his walls to alleviate the burning feelings inside of him. He deleted every picture he had of her, every text message he sent her, and blocked her on every single social media platform.

It felt like she took away his everything, so he would take away hers.

Jimothy knew that Jessica had a history. He also knew how much she cared about her reputation.

So he decided he would destroy it.

With the new information from Genu’s files, Jimothy started sending out texts to his friends in school. They were all going to find out Jessica’s true colours.

@jimothythesavage - yo guys, have i ever told u about jessica in middle school?

@tomomom - nah

@greeeeh - nope

@sighan - no why

@jimothythesavage - yall knew that we went to school together right? she used to be a bully. Im talking shoving kids into lockers, handing out black eyes for fun, pulling out kids hair, she was a total monster , everyone was scared of her

@sighan - NO WAYYYY

@jimothythesavage - yes way. she’s even in those files that got leaked and went viral. she’s on par with a bunch of criminals, dude. we should probably tell the people she talks to or something, i dont want them to get hurt or anything. shes crazy man

Within one hour, people that Jimothy had never spoken to were messaging him about the rumors.

With the help of Genu’s leaked information, Jessica’s meticulously crafted reputation had crumbled to dust.

Just like everyone else, the news had reached Maisha and her friends as well. They didn’t want to believe it but the accusations were overwhelming.

Suddenly people from Jessica’s past started speaking out on Binstagram. Those stories circulated through group chats of students from both Elohssa and Nerva Srec Highschool, among countless others. And on top of that, she no longer had her prestigious family name to back her up. Even that had shattered too, thanks to Thomas Lemoteur’s criminal behaviour. These bully accusations were just the last straw.

Jessica found herself all alone in the final lunch breaks of her highschool career.

But she understood why. Her friends couldn’t support a bully. In fact, Akaash stopped speaking to her completely since her past went against his principles.

What hurt more, however, was Maisha and Sana’s apprehension towards her. Were they afraid of her? Did they see her as a red flag? Someone they should’ve avoided long ago? Is she really that type of person?

Was it fair that middle school came back to haunt her 4 years after it had passed?

In this world, the answer was yes.

And perhaps they were right. Perhaps this was the punishment she deserved. It’s not fair for her to be happy, is what Jessica told herself. It’s not fair for her to forget when she was the perpetrator. She can’t just pretend everything is okay. She can’t pretend her brother is a good person. She can’t pretend that she was a good person. She was worse than her brother.

So as Jessica sat alone every day, eyes unfocused and lunch always tasteless, she thought long and hard about the past. Maybe nothing she could ever do would be enough?

After all, it wasn’t the stares or the whispers she hated, but herself.

The only one she could blame was herself, and the only thing she could think was,

If only time could turn back.

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“COCOPARK.ZIP: A file containing several clips of CCTV footage from outside the window of Coco Park’s family home. The file was found on the personal laptop of Pimmy Park of Cherry Plaid, along with an assortment of candid photos of Coco, taken at various different locations.”

-Genu Tibia, Café Eris Dossier, 20XX

Pimmy walked out of the CEO’s office, numb. She was done. Removed from the group immediately. She couldn’t decide on a single thing to think about, so she didn’t think at all.

As she left the building, she braced herself for a barrage of microphones and flashing lights. But the only person waiting for her was Daisy.

“It’s over,” Pimmy croaked.

Daisy was silent.

“Congratulations, you’ll finally get the recognition you deserve.”

Daisy had an unreadable expression in the dim lighting of the company parking lot. “It really came to this, huh?”

They stood in silence for a bit. Pimmy couldn’t bring herself to look at Daisy anymore.

Daisy continued, “The media doesn’t know yet. They’ll find out soon. You weren’t there but...the files were leaked.”

Pimmy felt like throwing up.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to our group now. It can’t be good, but…this was bound to happen.”

Pimmy felt dizzy.

The words all blurred. “Files” and “leaks” and “raccoons”. Who cares? It’s all meaningless. Everything is already over.

“We tried to protect you, but it’s too late. This is enough to get you arrested.”

Pimmy stopped.

“Protect me? This is what you wanted all along,” Pimmy laughed bitterly.

Daisy was silent. Pimmy wasn’t even listening, was she?

“I never wanted this. You did this to yourself,” said Daisy.

“No, you were just jealous of me! Even though I only wanted to help you, you always hated me!”

“Who cares?! Even if I did, does that change anything??? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Nari?!” Daisy’s voice cracked.

Pimmy flinched. Daisy had never raised her voice before. Daisy had never had such a serious look on her face.

“Don’t call me that name!” Pimmy blurted.

Daisy scoffed. “You thought we were jealous of your fame? What fame? No one even knows your real name!”

“...”

“Look at what’s happened to you! Do you even know what you did? Do you think we didn’t already know all of this from the beginning??? Do you think I wanted my friend to become a criminal?!”

Nari didn’t know what to say.

“And you think our group will even survive after this? We’re nothing without you. How can you say we wanted this?”

Nari was crying.

“Coco has a restraining order on you. Just be grateful his mother doesn’t know yet. That’s the only reason you weren’t arrested already,” Daisy spat.

Saying all of this hurt Daisy too. She knew all along. She knew that this was Nari’s dream. She knew that Nari only wanted to be loved.

That’s why she and Cherry Plaid had kept Pimmy’s secret. Pimmy’s horrible, disgusting secret. The used napkins, the pieces of hair, the cameras - once she had even rooted through his trash. The files that had gotten leaked weren't even the worst of it.

But Daisy, Dandelion and Violet didn’t do anything. They tried to pretend everything was fine.

But now, it was already too late.

The next morning, the company was overrun with news outlets at the door and a crowd of angry people.

Pimmy was at a hotel, and her parents were at the airport, ready to fly to a relative’s house.

At 1:37 PM Pimmy heard a knock on the door of her suite.

As the police led her away, she thought about the last thing Daisy had said.

“If only time could turn back.”

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“THE ARTIFACT: The “artifact” is an unknown object of national importance which the Nikolaevna family once possessed. After killing the Nikolaevna family, the state discovered that they had hidden the artifact, and it’s location is now unknown.

IAN DAZZLE: A Russian spy who came to Café Eris following a tip about the “artifact” being located nearby. Real name: [Redacted]. He is the son of the man who killed the Nikolaevnas, and is determined to finish the job his father could not.”

-Genu Tibia, Café Eris Dossier, 20XX

Anastasia Nikolaevna was in Switzerland when she heard the news. Genu Tibia’s files had been leaked, and it had become a global issue. Genu Tibia was acquainted with all kinds of big shots - corporate giants, foreign dignitaries, Hollywood stars - they had all solicited his services. The payment he had accepted for jobs on this scale was not money, but the right to ask just a single question. A relatively small price to pay, they had all thought at the time, but now it was costing them for sure.

There were all sorts of things in those files, things that they had not even told Genu. That was their mistake. They were naive. Just becoming acquainted with Genu was enough. If you were on his radar, your secrets were in those files.

Of course, that applied for Anastasia as well. Her entire life story was documented in the files, and now the world had access to it all. Everything from killing the Russian agent 18 years ago to her current hunt for his son.

Anastasia was a capable woman, but even she couldn’t hide for long, now that the Russian government had an open record of her every move until now. Surely they wouldn’t just sit still knowing an enemy of the state was roaming free - one who had ties to the “artifact” they were looking for. Not to mention, the local authorities were also now aware of all of her activity, including her most recent not-so-lawful acquisition of a gun.

Now, she had to act fast.

She had to find the survivor and kill him before her time ran out. Fortunately, it was made quite easy for her, by the very files that were currently limiting her movement. Genu had all kinds of things inside his files. Because he had investigated her, Anastasia was certain he would have also looked into her target.

But after 2 days of looking through thousands of files, she was beginning to believe the impossible.

She returned to the folder named “Café. Eris Dossier”.

Surely… Surely it can’t be?

She slowly read through the summary of all the café regulars. She wasn’t expecting much. No, she was hoping there wasn’t much.

After all, if it was true, wouldn't it be funny? Wouldn’t it be so, so pathetically funny?

If the person she had been searching for all these years, was right next to her all along.

How was she supposed to feel?

“Ian Dazzle, huh?” she laughed sourly.

————————

Meanwhile, the Ian Dazzle in question was having the time of his life.

He was catching up on all the shows he had always wanted to watch: Agent 467, Mr. International, Spies and Lies, Kympossible; He was doing all the things he could never do on the job: drinking, sleeping till noon, using the social medias.

“Living like there’s no tomorrow! B)” he posted on the social medias, along with a picture of his tequila. He knew that the young people these days posted things like that. What he didn’t know is that they used it as a figure of speech. Dazzle, in fact, had not.

He was currently residing in his parent’s old home, living out the rest of his days, simply waiting. He knew he couldn’t hide for long. He didn’t really have anywhere to go either. He certainly couldn’t go to the café. So what did he have left? No friends, no family, no agent protection program. The higher ups didn’t care if he was dead, in fact, perhaps it was better for them if he was. That way his death could be used as justification for going after his killer, and the artifact that she was tied to.

After that, they would hold a big ceremony in his name. Maybe they would build a monument for him. Depending on what the “artifact” even was, perhaps they would even declare the anniversary of his death a national holiday. Whatever the case, he would die an honourable death, and they would honour him as a national hero.

But Dazzle didn’t want any of that. This was the most dishonourable end in his code of honour. The kind of death Dazzle wanted was to live to at least 90, and die of natural causes while in his retirement, surrounded by comrades and disciples reminiscing of his glory days. But Dazzle could no longer do that, he knew. Surely Anastasia Nikolaevna was on her way right now.

And of course, he was right. Within three days, she had pinpointed his location.

He made his way through his parents’ house, which he had left untouched for 18 years. The photos, the ugly vases, even the mug that his mother had knocked over that day all remained as they were.

So he went back to the little space in the attic that could be accessed from a hidden door in his closet. He sat there and waited, just like 18 years ago.

But this time, he wasn’t afraid. He was simply bitter.

In this moment, he regretted wasting his life, living with self-adopted constraints, just as his father did. And now he would meet the same end as well.

Dazzle thought that if he had the chance to live his life again, then perhaps he would become a real DJ this time. It was the only fun he had ever had. He hoped that the people attending his concerts truly had fun too.

And as Anastasia stood in the attic space for a moment, staring, she and her sworn enemy thought the same thing:

If only time could turn back.

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“RIKAPARK.ZIP: Several MP3 files which Rika Park secretly recorded herself, of sensitive conversations between her and several important figures in the entertainment industry. The content of the conversations vary: directors accepting bribes, company executives making inappropriate comments, broadcasting managers admitting to taking part in rigging votes, and much more. It has been confirmed that at least half of these files have been used as blackmail material throughout the course of Coco Park’s career.”

-Genu Tibia, Café Eris Dossier, 20XX

The press was overtaken by utter chaos. It was clear that the Korean entertainment industry would never be the same again.

4th Generation It Girl Pimmy Park, her up-and-coming girl group Cherry Plaid, and the Nation’s Poster Child. The perfect recipe for the scandal of the century. The stalker, the victim and the ones who knew all along, but did nothing.

But that was just the beginning.

Rika Park, mother and manager of aforementioned Coco Park, and the more or less 253 industry professionals who she had bribed, manipulated and blackmailed in order to get Coco Park to the top. The people began calling her the secret kingpin of the entertainment industry.

So at this point, it was a war for attention. Both scandals had leaked at the exact same time, and each had its own kind of significance. Rookie reporters were swamped with overtime, changing headlines, following people involved and scrambling for new information every second. But they didn’t mind.

This was going to make history, and they would be the witnesses.

However, missing from all the action was a key figure in both: Coco Park. An innocent in both, and arguably, a victim in both as well.

Right now, while Rika Park was being held by the authorities, and Pimmy Park was at her expedited trial, Coco Park was alone in his house with curtains drawn, several locks on the door, and over 50 reporters trying to bypass lobby security.

But Coco didn’t care. He wasn’t reading the tabloids, or scrolling through Tweeter, or watching the news.

The video he was watching was a short clip from about 17 years ago, shot in a 3:4 aspect ratio and kept on a tiny, stained Benovo laptop. He was inside his mother’s room, which he was never allowed to enter. He had found the key in her bag, which she had left behind while being rushed to the police station.

In the video Coco was watching, an unknown woman’s voice called, off-camera, “Look here, baby! Look at the camera!”

Someone behind her clapped and said, “Smile! Smile for Grandpa, little buddy!”

But the child on screen wasn’t interested in the camera at all. He was chewing on his pinky finger with a look of concentration.

The young woman holding him laughed, “He’s hard at work.”

“So were you. You gave him that haircut yourself, didn’t you?” the other woman snickered.

“Hey! It’s not that bad, is it?” the younger woman moped.

“It’s cute,” said the man, “He’s a Coco-nut head. Just like his name,” he chuckled.

“Look at the camera, Coco! Smile for Grandma and Grandpa!”

Upon hearing his name, little Coco turned to the source of the sound, and pressed his spit-covered hand on his mother’s face.

“Oh, gross! Coco!!!” she cried out.

Then the video ended.

That was the last of the video clips Coco could find. This was his fourth time watching it. He had already finished looking through the photo albums a few times.

As Coco played the video clip for the fifth time, he thought about everything he had seen within the past few hours. All the things his mother had hidden away in her room. His baby photos, the photos of his grandparents who he doesn’t remember, the ripped up photos of a man who looked just like him - all of it was hard to take in.

But the hardest of all, was the image of his mother, only in her early 20s, wrinkle-free and smiling.

This was after she had given up her career after giving birth to Coco, and after Coco’s father had disappeared. Why did she look so happy? What did she have to be happy about?

None of it made sense to Coco. It made him want to throw up. More so than the fact that his mother might now be arrested, more so than the fact that he had been stalked for YEARS without his knowledge.

The fact that cruel, cruel time had worn away his mother’s smile made him feel like his heart would stop.

So as he kept replaying the video clips, trying to forget about it all, he couldn’t help but think,

If only time could turn back.

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Greg stood outside of the café window, smiling to himself. Finally, he had everything he needed. Everything has fallen into its respective place.

When he reached home, he immediately checked his email.

Greg finally had enough certified information to shut the place down.

It had taken him weeks, but with the leaked files and his current endeavours with the demon, the authorities finally began to take him seriously.

The files had enclosed so much information. Scanta’s ties to the underground market system, his involvement with the government, the unhygienic raccoons that frequented the café for some reason (apparently also connected the underground market), it was just perfect.

There was more than enough proof as to why the café should be closed.

The email from his lawyer brought a smile to his face. He could finally sue the café.

And with all the current evidence, he could probably win.

He would win.