Kenny:
Wake up, asshole. You've been unconscious for three days. Do you want to die in your sleep or something?
> Icabod: [slowly waking up]
What happened to me? What the hell was that move you used on me, Kenny?
> Kenny: [ shrugging ]
Ummmm… neck chop? he lied
> Icabod:
Before you hit my neck, yes? You vanished.
> Kenny:
No, I didn't. It was just something normal people do — it's called Body Flicker. Don't ask ; just don't blink
> [Icabod sits up right]
Icabod:[ voice raw ]
"Teach me." I won't die waiting
> Kenny: [dressing up]
Nope!!!
> Icabod:
What? Da— it's a basic survival skill. Do you want me to die immediately, without fulfilling my dream??
> Kenny:
I'll look after you. There's no need to worry about skills that will help you run away. Isn't that what you want?
> Icabod[ now fired up ]:
You don't know what I want dude , you don't know the feeling of your own very dad sacrificing his wife for power ?.
> Icabod [now fired up]:
You don't know what I want, dude. You don't know the feeling of watching your own father sacrifice his wife—your mother—for power!
> [Kenny interrupts, voice shaking with fury]
You think you've suffered?
Do you know what it feels like to be a failed experiment—locked away from light, forgotten by the same man who made you?
To escape one day and find out he just… replaced me?
A new son. A new daughter. A new family.
You ever wonder why the food in your fridge kept disappearing?
Why the trash always emptied, and you thought it was a raccoon?
I was that raccoon, Icabod.
Feeding on your leftovers, watching your happiness from the dark.
[His voice cracks. A tear slips down his cheek, glistening in the dim light.]
Not once did I hate you… or your mother.
Sometimes I'd crawl up to your window… just to watch you sleep.
You thought it was Dad who covered you with that old blanket some nights?
It was me.
Every single night, I watched you—because that was the only way I could find peace.
So tell me… little brother…
Do you really think you understand revenge more than I do?
> Icabod [frozen, voice trembling]:
You're… my brother? Stepbrother?
It was you… all this time?
The ragged kid who always showed up when I was bullied—that was you?
> Kenny [bitter smile, tears still flowing]:
Yeah…
Yes, bitch.
Why do you even get bullied or something
Are you that weak ? [ he chuckled ]
>Icabod [ Sobbing ]
You always look out for me, why didn't you hate me , like every normal people will
[Kenny realizing Icabod was now emotional]
> Kenny [looks at him in disgust]:
You're ugly when you cry. For real. Hasn't anyone told you that?
> Icabod [in disbelief]:
What— I was being emotional, you know? It's rare for me.
It's not like you didn't cry when you were telling me yours.
> Kenny [acting tough]:
Hmph. I'm stronger than you think. Hurry up, we're going into the city.
I'll introduce you to my friends— maybe buy some stuff.
> Icabod [curiously]:
You've got friends? Are they cool?
'Cause I'm no introvert, but seriously— how do you even make money?
I always thought you lived off seaweed or something.
> Kenny [serious but joking look]:
Do you want a neck chop or something?
> Icabod [terrified]:
Keep your hands to yourself, man.
— sparks spit from the road as Kenny's black power bike screeches around a ruined highway curve.
His coat flares behind him, torn and fluttering like broken wings.
Neon lights flicker in the distance — blue, red, and orange flashing against the wet asphalt.
Icabod clings to the back, eyes wide, barely hanging on.
Wind howls past them — thunder cracks overhead.
Icabod:
BRO— slow down! I can't even breathe!
Kenny:
That's how you know it's working.
Icabod:
What— what does that even mean?!
Kenny:
It means shut up and hold tighter.
Icabod:
I am holding tighter! If I hold any tighter, I'll be part of the seat!
Kenny:
Good. Then if we crash, I only have to bury one body.
Icabod:
I hate you. I hate your bike. I hate your life choices.
Kenny:
You love me. You just don't know it yet.
Icabod:
If we survive this, I'm suing you.
Kenny:
Ha! Joke's on you. I don't exist in the system.
Icabod:
That's not a flex, Kenny!
Kenny:
It is when you're wanted in three districts.
(The bike hits a bump. Icabod screams.)
Icabod:
DID YOU JUST— OH MY GOD, WE'RE FLYING—
Kenny:
Relax. I calculated this jump perfectly.
Icabod:
You failed math twice!
Kenny:
That's called being creative with numbers.
(They land hard. Icabod nearly bites his tongue.)
Icabod:
You're insane!
Kenny:
And yet, you're still here.
(Pause — wind roaring, Icabod sighs.)
Icabod:
…You could've just said you missed me, you know.
Kenny:
Say that again and I'll brake midair.
Icabod:
You don't even have brakes!
Kenny:
Exactly.
(Icabod groans while Kenny laughs maniacally as they disappear into the distance.)
The bar went silent the moment the door creaked.
Rainlight spilled in, and Kenny walked through it — calm, soaked, dangerous.