Red

"Why are you red?"

I looked up from my bag to find a girl had moved into the stall across from me. I recognized her. I guess her attempts to enlist herself as a proxy for Father at the police station had been less than fruitful because she was still maskless... and talking.

"I mean, most you are blue. Like the guy with the crack on his mask's chin or the guy with the split up above his mask's right eye. Their energy is blue. They're Cool, Calm, Collected. Well focused veterans. Their masks could be their faces for the emotional range the carry but you... you're angry. Its a little blinding up this close."

I just stared at her. I didn't know what she was expected. She seems quite aware of the fact that I don't talk. Had to figure she was just another mouth breather speaking with no weight to her words just to hear herself think. A senseless and prideful activity that I find wastes a lot of time.

Then it hit me what she had just said.

'Why are you red?'      'Their energy blue.'

She can see my energy? Did that mean she could pick me out of a group even if I was to shed my mask and try to blend? Would she have blown my cover if I had already been doing that when she walked over?

...Is she just fucking crazy?

I put a hand on her forehead to check her temperature. A gesture she seems to recognize and returned a glare to me in response.

"Don't give me that. I'm not sick and I'm not FUCKING CRAZY."

I reeled back a bit at her yelling.

"You people are all the same, you know that!? You don't even give me chance. Just write me off as unfit and send me out with an escort."

I took my hand back afraid she might grab it and use the advantageous positioning to pin me down to the table or something in her frustrated elevated state.

She brought up a hand to shield her eyes. "Ahh, and would you calm the fuck down. So red! Almost as bright as the guy with the long diagonal crack between his mask's eyes."

Long diagonal crack between the eyes... Duckie?

I reflexively stood up. I needed to find a way to gracefully drag her off to find out where she saw Duckie, if she duckie, without making a scene.

"You turned blue... friend of yours?"

I was pulling out some paper to write on when Picasso burst in. "YOU BETTER HAVE BOUGHT TH-"

And watched as Picasso and wanna-be locked eyes.

"I-I... wh-what the fu-" started the girl as she stumbled out of the booth in a hurry falling hard on her back.

Picasso went silent and held out her arms.

"H-How can this... g-get away!" exclaimed the girl stumbling to her feet and then stumbling down the aisle knocking over chairs as she rushed for the door with a hand to the side of her head. It was like she couldn't quite see straight suddenly or something.

I was so confused by the odd scene that by the time I realized we needed her and rushed for the door to stop her, she was gone. No trace of her. I turned to Picasso. She had a big shit eating.

"THAT was fun," was all she had to say about it and she sat down and ate her burgers.

Someone else who can see Picasso as the monster she is... maybe she could see my energy?

Moth Out.