Bravery

[CardboardAirplane]

"And that's the end of today's update, try to remember that the whole world will be watching, so let's give them a good show. I'll speak with you again tomorrow."

It always felt shitty to agree whenever Danya said something, and it had happened enough times to cause him a bit of concern. Perante had to say once again that he always wanted the same thing. He just wanted to make a good show.

(Perante Losoa continued from All it takes is a spark)

Note to self. Never sleep down here again.

Once again, the announcement marked another eleven of them down.

Perante always tried to remember as much as he could about these people. Even if he had never spoken with some of these people one-on-one and had lost the chance. He wanted to be a good memory. He wanted to put on a good show. He’ll look at his target audience and stick to a script. If anyone wanted a song and dance, he’ll do his best to get it done. He’ll play a talking toy and regurgitate positive words and phrases just to please the one guy looking at him, and he’ll do it with the swagger and confidence like this singular version was him the entire time when there were other editions up on the store shelves.

Now that they were dead, it simply didn’t matter as much. Especially here; no one really cared what a corpse thought.

“I’m still wondering what you hope to get out of this. It’s a whole organization just for the sake of getting fellow classmates and friends to kill each other. Eight times over you’ve done this, and for what? Surely you gotta realize that like, by this point it's not working. If it takes this much death and retries to get it done. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, Danya.”

He cared what they thought though. Through those glass lenses was a conglomerate mess of all of those that tuned in. They shone a spotlight onto him and watched in silence. He spoke to them, and he got nothing back; Perante would have to imagine any sort of reaction he’d get. But he'll try his best to be a good memory. He wanted to put on a good show.

He’ll speak the words he’d imagine any media protagonist would say at this moment. People wouldn't judge him for that. That's what everyone wanted, right?

Those words fought with the growing mess of fear inside of him. Nobody needed to see the ugliness inside. He didn’t want to confront that part of him; he just needed to repeat these words to himself enough times.

“Ya know, the smarter thing to do would just be to… Accept that we’re not winning. Even the winner—the survivor, wouldn’t be someone I’d consider a… Well, winner. Odd term really, it’s just got such a positive implication for something so horrible. You'd be killing your entire graduating class. All that death, you think like, anyone would be able to handle that kind of thing?”

This was the eighth version. He never answered that discrepancy.

Perante took off his beanie and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at the small husky on the front of his hat for a moment before putting it back on.

“So… Fuck you, Danya. I’ll break your spine when I get out of here.”

No, that sounded stupid. That was going too far too. He couldn’t rewind like, five seconds, could he? Please don’t blow him up. His hand jerked over to his collar. He tried to correct it by taking off his hat again so it didn’t look like he was reaching for his neck. Perante was going to keep it off for a little while longer just so it doesn’t seem as weird.

He clenched his fists tighter, looking for something to grab on to. A familiar metal friend clasped back. Perante’s eyes darted from his hat back to the crowd behind the lens, and those eyes stared back. For a moment, Perante swore he could see the camera blinking at him and his entire body shivered.

(Perante Losoa continued at Lullabies to Paralyze)