I.II - Anxiety

2

Arthur was understandably nervous. This was the day that the trio had waited for. The day when they would go to school without worrying about Michael. Without the worry of plans to stop him, or to deal with any criminal activity. Instead, it would be a day when they could be normal students.

Although, Arthur was more understandably nervous about the drawback. What their actions had caused, and how they would have to react to it.

In fact, he didn't want to go to school at all but knew he had to.

Tracey insisted that they would ride the bus when this day would come. Arthur did vaguely understand why. The bus would calm or escalate their nerves because it would be the first presence of the school atmosphere. The environment of the bus would give the tiro a small taste of what was to come. But Arthur never liked riding the bus. He would always have to explain his attire or how he acts with others. He would even start helping people so early in the morning.

It was a constant hassle, but he would endure it.

For Tracey.

The tiro's bus stop was one of the last three stops to school, so the bus arrived at almost full capacity of students. Tracey entered first. And when he did, all the talking and noise finally stopped. All the students only glanced at him for a moment before whispering away. You could hear the booming engine of the bus roar.

The seats on the bus could fit three, but Tracey sat in the front on the left side, while Ashley and Arthur sat behind him. Tracey always liked his personal space more than anything, so Arthur respected it.

Ashley just didn't want to sit next to Tracey.

Arthur could sense Ashley's look on his, likely, nervous face. She silently offered him the left earphone. He stared at it but placed it into his ear. The song that was playing had a jazzy feel to it but noticeably started to be filled with many types of instruments and musical styles.

"It's a jam session featuring many jazz artists. I only discovered it last week," mumbled Ashley. She stared out the window, looking at the neighbourhood as they both enjoyed the pleasant sounds of jazz.

Times like this made Arthur feel at peace with himself and the world.

That he was a normal person with a normal life and connection to people.

Yet, the bus didn't take long to stop once again at the second to last stop.

Only one person walked up the steps, which caught Arthur's eye, but gave him immediate terror.

It was a short, black hair girl with a tomboyish style with cut jeans and a crop top over a white t-shirt. She wore shoes that were old and dirty, but they matched her dirty, lightly tanned face. Her hands were placed in her pockets, and her bag carried on her heavily.

This was Hattie Rush, an admirer of Michael.

Not in a romantic sense, but only as a fan of what he did and sought out to do. For some inexplicable reason, she involved herself heavily in his work. Once he realised she only liked him like a hardcore fan of a celebrity, he tasked her with squashing awful rumours about him and carrying out small tasks for his goals.

Or so Tracey mentioned to Arthur.

Unfortunately, Arthur's fears were written out in reality when she headed straight towards Tracey, who was oblivious to her or the newfound tense in the atmosphere.

Everyone on the bus could only wonder what may or may not happen, creating terror and anxiety throughout the bus.

Oddly enough, Ashley wasn't nervous or anxious at all.

She only kept listening to her music in peace.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Tracey stared back at her. Arthur could only start to sweat at the possibilities that could occur, but, to his relief, Tracey only nodded towards her.

She sat down silently with the bus engine beginning to start up again.

For a minute or two, it seemed like nothing was going to happen. But before anyone could also breathe in relief, Hattie caused everyone to tense up again when she asked him a question.

"So, you proud of yourself for what you did yesterday? It was quite a show you displayed."

Tracey looked at her and smile a bit. "Of course, it was the best day of my life."

"Is that so?"

"Yep, it was something I've been planning for so long. I'm glad everything worked out."

"Interesting."

Then, out of nowhere, she stood up and pulled out a handgun out of her bag.
She directed it at Tracey's head.

Arthur could only see the backside of the two, but he could see Tracey's slight shaking. Everyone on the bus saw the handgun and started to panic.

The bus driver was unaware of the current developments. Until, of course, the old man noticed the noise and looked behind him to see what was happening.

He saw Hattie's handgun, and screamed,"HEY! PUT THAT DOWN!"

And Hattie shot his hand as a response. Right through the centre of his palm.

He yelped in pain and kneed down.

The cars behind the bus started to honk wildly. They too were unaware of the situation, but the people didn't bother to check why the bus didn't start to move.

Hattie now was slightly shaking before she turned her attention back to Tracey with a nervous smile on her face.

'If this was happening on the bus, who knew what would happen once we got to school? Is today going to be a bloodbath? Is today going to be a day when people die? '

He pushed that thought away with all his might.

He couldn't let that happen, but the fear and dread inside of him did not let go of him.

Arthur looked at Ashley as a child in desperate need of help would look towards their mother, but she was only watching Hattie like everyone else.

Hattie cocked the gun for another round.

"I hate you," Hattie finally spoke out loud.

"I hate that, Michael was defeated in his moment of glory, and you ruined it for him. You ruined it for so many people. And then, you casually arrive at the bus as if you did nothing. As if yesterday didn't happen at all. Honestly, I want to kill you. I want to end all your happiness, your joy, your glee, so you can feel a fraction of what Michael felt!"

She moved the gun closer to his head, where Tracey could feel the metal on the side of his skull.

"The only thing that's stopping me is I rather not get my hands dirty so early in the morning. But. But, but, but, I'm willing to make an exception depending on your answer to this question."

Tracey, shaking only slightly, replied, "A-And what's that?"

"Even with all the things he did that you would consider wrong...would you consider him a good person?" She said with such an affectionate voice.

"I would never consider someone that evil a good person," Tracey said with such a venomous voice

"I hope you would have said otherwise."

The crack in her voice was loud enough for all to hear.

But before she could click the trigger, Ashley jumped over Arthur, still caught up in the moment of surprise, and grabbed the pistol out of her hands.

Then, with perfect aim and force, she pushed Hattie out of the way and punched Tracey square in the face.

Everyone on the bus was completely speechless.

Arthur was stunned.

Even Hattie herself didn't seem to comprehend what had just occurred.

It wasn't a light punch, either. Tracey now had a black eye.

Tracey was visibly angry but decided to wait and see what Ashley's plan was.

If she did have one.

But Tracey and, even Arthur, knew that she did.

Ashley looked over to Hattie with an irritated stare. "Listen here. I, like the rest of us here, just want to go to school. If you have any beef with Tracey, wait until after we get there! Do you understand, Hattie?!"

Before Hattie could speak back, the bus doors opened up. The bus driver seemed to have mustered up enough strength to open the bus' doors. Something outside made him look out in reassurance, and make the risky attempt.

An all too familiar voice to Arthur and everyone on the bus yelled out, "Wow, didn't think my day would have to start like this!"

With that voice, the speechless turned into cries of joy.

Hattie turned around and her face filled with fear and dread just like everyone else felt moments ago.

That voice belonged to a man with a long, ponytail that was dyed blue, but the rest of his hair was blond. He had black pants with nice black suits, but the upper body was vastly different. He wore a blue suit jacket with a bright purple vest. Despite the classical, and interesting, style, his face had peach fuzz all over as if he was hoping it would grow. But, beyond all that, he had a smile so pure and wicked, it made this man seem like a Greek hero.

His name was Seth Bernhard.

Or, what Arthur and the rest of the students called him, Mr Bernhard.