If Arthur Nickelson told people that he had voices in his head, they’d probably think he was crazy. Well, they weren’t voices per se, they were his parents. Or at least what he thought parents should be. Arthur did not have parents. Usually, when you think of an orphan, you might picture somebody like Bruce Wayne, brooding, sad, and lonely. Or maybe you picture someone
more like Annie, endlessly optimistic, and longing for a better tomorrow. Arthur Nickelson was neither of those things. But sometimes he wished he was. It would make things a lot easier to explain.

As he sat in class, he wondered–as he often had–how do you tell your teachers that you can’t focus because your parents are too busy arguing? Not from beyond the grave in a Paranorman kind of way, but from your own imagination? Arthur knew these voices weren’t actually his parents, and that they weren’t actually real either, but he liked them. It’s why he never bothered to call them “mom” and “dad.” He had real parents at some point and didn’t want to replace them, even if he’d never really known them. Part of the reason he was afraid to tell anybody about his imagined family was because he thought that maybe someone would think there was something wrong with him. He didn’t need to be fixed—he’d made it this far, right?

He wasn’t exactly sure exactly when they’d shown up, but he had a good idea of where they had come from. He called them Artie and Therin, and they’d been with Arthur for a long time. Though he’d never really seen the two of them, he had a good idea of what they probably looked like. Artie, his “father,” always spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent, the kind that might warn you to keep your mouth shut if you didn’t want to be “sleepin’ with the fishes.” Arthur was always sure he was a fat man with a big cigar in his mouth and a pinstripe suit that was just a little too tight, with a matching hat on top of it all. He blamed the gangster movies he’d watched with his grandfather when he was far too young for the inspiration.

Then there was his “mother,” whom he called Therin. Her voice was much softer, almost like the wind. She was much calmer than Artie, always preaching peace and love. Arthur had always assumed she’d come from the books he’d read as a child about beautiful forest nymphs that would guide lost adventurers. Because of this, he’d always imagined a tall and slender woman with pointed ears and pale hair that fell all the way to the floor.

From what he heard, they were everything parents should be—except helpful. They were always there to entertain him and also occasionally offered support when he was upset, but they could never agree on anything—and that was a problem for Arthur.

Arthur Nickelson may not be crazy for hearing voices, but he was certainly crazy for his extensive planning. Everything has to be in its place and perfectly tailored–if it wasn’t, it should be removed or taken care of. It was why he hated his hair so much. It was red and curly and stuck out in every direction, and no amount of brushing could control it. His freckles were much the same, covering his face and shoulders with no pattern or reason to be seen. Looking in the mirror was exhausting, so he often didn’t.

Every day he wore a button-up with jeans–if he always wore the same thing, he’d never worry about if he’d chosen something else. If he was always prepared, he’d never be unhappy. If he didn’t have his raincoat in his bag and it rained, he’d be wet and uncomfortable. If he didn’t have his sunglasses and it was sunny, he’d have to squint and he could trip and fall. And if he didn’t have his lucky pen, he could fail his final.

Those were the thoughts racing through his head while he rummaged through his bag, silently begging and pleading that his pen would be there. It was a blue and sparkly thing with a fine tip that was sharper than any pen he’d owned before. It was his pen, once his grandfather’s, passed down with the importance of a family heirloom. The ink used to match the color of the outside, but he’d had it for so long that he’d replaced it at least three times. It wrote so neatly, perfectly pressing into the page and gliding across it smoothly. No matter how many kinds of ink he used, it would always dry instantly, preventing smudges or smears. He swore the pen must be magic–but now he couldn’t find it.

Arthur sighed, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling, bag still in his lap. He felt the blood rush to his head, the sound of the ocean in his ears as his heart worked overtime. He hated when this happened, it’s just a pen, it shouldn’t bother him this much. He tried to focus on the ceiling and count the tiles while the professor began handing out the test papers.

“One, two, three, four…”

“Could you be any louder? I can barely hear myself think.”

Guys– Arthur groaned, in his head, of course, he didn’t want to seem crazy. Not right now, ok?

“Well then, what are we supposed to do?” Therin asked, a hint of worry in her tone. Arthur liked to imagine them as if they were standing in the room with him; it was more fun that way. “Your professor is almost here, and you don’t have your pen!”

“I got it! Listen, kid, if you scootch your desk over just a little bit,” Artie said, moving to the aisle between the desks. “Then stretch—” he did a big over-the-top stretch from where he told Arthur to move. He then craned his neck to look at the closest student’s paper before sitting back up quickly. “Bada bing bada boom, you got free answers and we’ll be outta here by 4 o’clock on the dot! Plenty of time to make it to the movie.”

Ah yes, the movie. The release of the one and only “Battle Star 2035: The Movie.”

Considering it was only Arthur’s favorite video game ever, he was ecstatic to hear that the animated movie was coming back to theaters for one weekend only. Once thought to be lost to time, the 80s cult classic had finally been found in a quality high enough to get mass-produced. Arthur had purchased a ticket the second they went on sale.

“Do not tell him to cheat. The movie isn’t until nine, he’ll make it. We don’t need to look at other answers,” Therin scolded Artie, scandalized by the very suggestion. “No, that is far too dishonest and risky…” she trailed off, her hand momentarily resting on her chin before her eyes lit up. “Instead, we shall fake an illness and get the test on another day!” she announced triumphantly.

“And how is that less ‘dishonest’ than my idea?” Artie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s definitely less harmful than cheating!” Therin crossed her arms with a frown.

Guys! Arthur thought again, interrupting the brewing argument. It’s fine… I’ll just... use another pen I guess. The words were slimy even in his head. But even with the discomfort, what other choice did he have?

“Use another—? Oh—oh this kid thinks he’s funny!” Artie let a bellowing laugh. “Use another pen—you’re killin’ me!” 

Therin shot Artie a glare before turning back to Arthur. “Arthur, how will you pass this test without your lucky pen? You know you need it,” she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. He wondered if it would have felt warm. 

The professor set the final down on his desk, walking right through where he imagined Therin was standing. A stark reminder that he was once again in his own head.

Of course Arthur knew he needed his lucky pen. Every test he’d ever taken without it had ended in absolute failure so he came to learn that no lucky pen, no passing grade. Artie and Therin became quiet again as the professor began to go over the instructions. Arthur had read the syllabus front to back twelve times and knew exactly what to expect. What he didn’t expect was for someone to try and get his attention.

“Pssst.” Arthur looked up, checking the mostly empty desks around him, another attempt to increase predictability. It definitely wasn’t Artie or Therin but he still didn’t know who it could be. “Behind you—” A sharp nail tapped Arthur gently on the shoulder. He whipped around in his desk only to stifle a gasp.

Yuki Suzuki… it was Yuki Suzuki. He hadn’t even seen her come in and yet here she was in all her accessorized glory. She smiled at him, her dark, almond eyes crinkling upwards softly, like silk being pushed along a smooth surface. Her hair was tied on the top of her head, messy as always, with all sorts of clips and bows littering her bangs. It really was Yuki Suzuki, the most beautiful girl Arthur had ever seen.

“Were you looking for a pen?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. He wished he could say that she was also the most beautiful girl he’d ever talked to, but he couldn’t. Because they hadn’t. Arthur nodded slowly. “Ok, let me find you one.” She began to dig through her purse.

He’d first seen her on the first day of class when she’d come in late with coffee. He remembered that she’d spilled it everywhere and instead of being embarrassed, she laughed. A bright, beautiful laugh that made his heart beat just a little faster. He’d wanted to talk to her, sure. But people were already unpredictable, and she might have been the most unpredictable of all.

“Oh my…” Therin grimaced at the girl while she pulled various bits of trash from her purse, setting it on her desk.

“Hey hey hey! What does she think this place is?! A dump?!” Artie asked, gesturing at the desk in offense. 

I don’t know… it’s not that bad… Arthur thought, eyes scanning over the trash. Candy wrappers, chip bags, empty lip gloss. She then pulled out a stick of gum.

“Oh heavens no…” Therin said, shaking her head ever so slightly. “A loose stick of gum?!”

“Look—the corner of the wrapper’s peeled back.” Artie pointed. He laughed again. Yuki put it to her nose, sniffing it.

“Oh no.”

“Cool it, Therin, just cuz she sniffed it doesn’t mean she’s gonna—” Yuki
unceremoniously popped the gum into her mouth to the anguished cries of both Therin and Artie. Arthur should have been disgusted too, but he wasn’t—he was weirdly impressed?

“It seems I judged you too harshly,” Artie said, taking off his hat and placing it on his chest. “That’s one hardcore broad.”

“Don’t call her a broad.” Therin smacked his shoulder to quiet him down.

“Ah-hah—found it!” Yuki cheered as quietly as she could. Artie and Therin immediately crowded around her while she pulled her pen out of her bag.

“Aw yeah, show us the goods. What’re we working with? Fountain, gel, rollerball?” Artie rubbed his hands together like a kindergartener on Christmas morning.

“Hopefully something with a fine tip…” Therin trailed off. “Oh! And a nice, comfortable grip!”

“Here you go, sorry it took so long to find.” Yuki smiled again, holding out the pen to Arthur. Despite what expectations his ‘parents’ had put in his head, the pen didn’t even hold a candle to his beloved lucky one. It was an ordinary gas station pen, a black ballpoint missing its cap. There were teeth marks at the end, and the ‘Bic’ logo was holding on for dear life

“Thanks,” Arthur said, marking the first-ever words he ever uttered to Yuki Suzuki.

“That’s the pen?” Artie said in disbelief. He sighed, shaking his head. “I take back what I said earlier, this chick’s gotta go.” Therin elbowed him again. “Ow! What?! Can’t say broad, can’t say chick, next thing you know I can’t call her a dame either!”

Arthur let them fade away while he turned back around in his seat, studying the pen. Everything in his head told him that it should be a terrible pen. He could see the ink running out, and the tip was even damaged. But Yuki had given it to him, and she was special, so maybe she’d make the pen special too.
He was wrong. He had to go over everything he wrote at least twice to make sure that it showed up on the page. The damaged tip caught on the paper and almost ripped it a few times. And scratched the label, brushed against the inside of his hand, making it itchy and uncomfortable. Handing in the test at the end of the hour felt like a sweet release, even if it went poorly, at least it was over. He left the classroom with Artie and Therin in tow, he didn’t have to imagine them with him but sometimes it made the long walk back to his dorm less lonely. They didn’t say much as they walked down the hall, seemingly wallowing in the nature of their defeat.

Arthur’s eyes scanned the posters lining the walls, trying to find anything to look at that might distract him from his thoughts.

“Hey, quiet boy!” Arthur turned around to see none other than Yuki Suzuki running down the hall in his direction. “Quiet, boy?” Therin raised an eyebrow. “Is she talking to you?”

The question was soon answered when Yuki interrupted the scene by stopping right in front of Arthur, panting. She put one hand up and rested the other on her knee while she caught her breath. Arthur waited until she stood up. “Sorry, but I need that pen back. I don’t have many of those.”

“Oh, here.” Arthur dug the pen out of his pocket, placing it in her hand. He didn’t miss how his hand brushed her palm and couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the thought. He decided to be brave. “I’m Arthur.”

“No!” he heard Artie yell. “Now she knows your name! If you embarrass yourself now she’ll never forget!”

Shut up, don’t ruin this for me. Arthur hoped his thoughts weren’t visible on his face. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Arthur, I’m Yuki,” the girl said, giving a small wave. “It’s funny, we’ve been in class together this whole semester and this is the first time we’ve talked.”

“Yeah, real funny,” Arthur said, wiping his palms on his pants. Since when did he get so sweaty?

“Arthur, maybe we should move on?” Therin stepped into his view again, waving behind the girl and taking his attention away from her. “The movie, remember?”

“Hey, are you going to that party?” Yuki asked, stepping in front of Therin again. Arthur shook his head as subtly as possible.

“What party?”

“Oh, I saw you looking at the poster and assumed you were going to go.” Yuki pointed past where he’d been staring at a relatively empty sheet of paper. It had the word party printed at the top in a simple font with nothing but a time and a location underneath it. The lack of color almost made it stand out on the board with so many club and event posters.

“Who the hell made that poster?” Artie laughed. “It’s so empty, the hairs on my head should be grateful for the company,” he said, taking off his hat and stroking his balding head.

“I don’t really go to parties,” Arthur said, shrugging.

“You should totally go!” Yuki said, smile widening. “Sorry if that sounded intense, I just know the host and she asked me to spread the word.” The girl winked before beginning to walk away. “Oh—and it’s a holiday party so don’t forget to dress up!”

“Dress up?” Arthur called out frantically. That was odd, who threw a costume party in December? Especially with such a boring invite to advertise. She said holiday party but then said to dress up? “What do I wear?!”

“I’m not sure,” Yuki said, turning her head back to him. “Just don’t overthink it.”

“This better not take any longer than an hour if you want to see that movie,” Therin complained with a sigh. She usually loved shopping, but Mr. Mystical’s Costume Emporium wasn’t exactly to her tastes. Unfortunately, with such short notice, it was about all that they could do.

Don’t worry, it won’t take long…

The shop was old and dusty, something Arthur wasn’t too pleased by. It made his nose itch and his skin crawl. He’d asked the man at the front of the shop to point him in the direction of the cheapest costumes and, barely looking up from his magazine, he pointed to a dusty corner in the back of the store. Now, Arthur was shifting through the dusty costume racks, trying to find something suitable for a party. 

“These might be even older than me, kid,” Artie scoffed, scrunching his nose up when Arthur pulled a dusty clothing bag off the rack.
What about this one? It seems pretty cool…

The costume was pretty standard: a long black cloak with a silvery mask meant to look like a skull. Arthur didn’t usually like scary things, but maybe, just maybe, it would make Yuki think he was cool. That meant it was worth a shot. It was a bit frightening, but that was ok, right?

Weren’t costumes supposed to be scary? Or was that just for Halloween?

“You absolutely cannot wear that,” Therin said, a horrified look on her face. “It’s far too frightening.”

Arthur looked at the costume again and supposed he had missed a few details. The mask was curved upward into a creepy smile, and it even came with fake blood to be splattered wherever the user desired. Even without the fake blood, it still made Arthur a little nervous even though he knew it was a costume.

“If you were to wear that, you’d no doubt frighten everyone so badly that they won’t ever invite you back,” Therin explained, looking around the other racks for something else.

Is it really that scary? Arthur didn’t do well with horror himself, and he often found things frightening that others hardly batted an eye at. But maybe Therin was right, and it was too risky. He put the costume back before he got any more bad ideas.

“How about this one, kid?” Artie pointed to a costume hanging on the far end of the rack. It was older than the rest, the plastic around it was yellowing and covered in dust. The label on it proved why. Fiesta Man was written on the front of the plastic with a white guy in an extremely stereotypical Mariachi player costume.

Artie, how old even is this? Arthur asked, stifling a laugh. He took the costume off of the rack to look closer. It was definitely racist and definitely ugly. The colors were extremely imbalanced and saturated in ways that made him think it might have been sitting on the rack since the 80s. He was certain a real mariachi player would be offended by the fake mustache alone.

“He is not wearing that.” Therin shot the idea down immediately. “He’ll get laughed out of the party and cancelled for good measure.”

“What? Why?” Artie asked.

“Cultural appropriation,” Therin said, putting her face in her hand. “He can’t dress up as a different ethnicity.”

Arthur laughed at the absurdity of it all, but obviously put the costume back on the rack. The last thing he wanted was to look ugly and like a bad person.
Arthur had never liked costumes. Every Halloween, he opted not to dress up because dressing up involved too many factors. Not only would he be wearing an outfit he was not used to, everyone else would be too. The idea of accidentally mistaking someone for someone else, not being able to recognize someone’s costume, or making someone uncomfortable was never worth knocking on strangers’ doors to get candy. Aside from Halloween, he’d never even considered dressing up. Until recently.

“Ooh, how about this one?” Therin pointed to a simple Prince Charming costume.

“Him? Prince Charming? Please—” Artie rolled his eyes. 

Arthur laughed to himself well he continued, sifting through the racks of clothing. He certainly wasn’t a Prince Charming by any means, and maybe that’s why this whole thing felt silly to him. Did he really think Yuki would be impressed by some dumb costume? She’d probably already forgotten about inviting him. Artie and Therin were right, there were so many risks involved and if he wanted to see that movie….

Maybe I should just leave.

As he pushed the costumes back together on the rack, one fell at his feet. He gasped when he saw the label. Emperor Zorgan, the main villain of Battle Star 2035. Arthur tried his best not to squeal as he picked it up.

“What is it? Did you find something?” Therin popped into view, Artie close behind.

Arthur had forgotten about the movie. Hard to believe after how much he was, looking forward to it. But now that he’s been thinking about how to fix this costume, he was getting excited at the thought of making something. If he made a costume, he’d have full control over it; there wouldn’t be any unwanted factors because he would have curated it himself. There’s been a change of plans.

“A change of plans?” Therin scoffed. “Arthur, you’ve been waiting for this since you were a kid! You can’t tell me that this party is suddenly more important.”
I may have been waiting for this movie since I was eight, but I’ve been waiting to make friends my whole life. Arthur sighed to himself, letting Artie and Therin’s voices fade to the back of his mind. So what if it takes all weekend? I’ve got work to do.

The costume was itchy. Not too itchy, but enough to remind him that he was wearing synthetic fabric from the 90s. But he knew that would be the case, so he ignored it. He was hoping he’d feel less scared once he was standing at the front door of the address written so plainly on that poster. But, he was wrong. He could feel his heart beating in his throat with a pain
in his chest that made him want to sit down. But no.
Arthur had worked hard on his costume, surely everyone else would at least be able to appreciate that much. He’d missed the movie to make the costume but strangely, he didn’t even regret it. He felt accomplished, successful, like he’d finally done something all on his own, risks be damned.

“Nervous?” Therin’s voice came back into his mind, warm and sweet like the wind. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this at first, but I think you look amazing.”

“For once we can agree.” Artie smiled, and Arthur imagined their hands on his shoulders, comforting and warm like parents should be. Sure, they weren’t perfect, but they were what he had—even if they weren’t real. He didn’t need them to be real to know the words were true.

Thanks, guys. Arthur took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. This was it, the moment of truth. Whatever happened beyond that door would surely change the course of Arthur’s life.

Perhaps he was being a bit dramatic, but part of him was excited. Had everyone else worked as hard on their costumes as he had on his? Would anybody recognize him? The uncertainty you would usually have him writhing in his skin, but now, it had him excited.

The door opened with a click, and he looked up to see Yuki Suzuki herself standing in a long blue dress. It was much different from her usual style, sleek, elegant, pretty. He wondered who she was supposed to be.

“Oh my goodness—Arthur—” Yuki’s face didn’t match her elegant appearance. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open ever so slightly. Her face scrunched up in confusion, then became surprised once more before relaxing into a pitying gaze. “This is all my fault…”

“What? Is something wrong?” Arthur responded, looking around him for the possible cause of her upset.

“I think I gave you the wrong idea…” Yuki said. Arthur felt his heart drop, had he not been invited? Had he misread the entire situation? That couldn’t be it, she’d told him to come. His mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to find a logical explanation for her words. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long because Yuki slowly opened the door and stepped to the side. “When
I said that you should dress up, I meant like, for a cocktail party, not a costume party.”

Arthur peered inside and saw that no one else was wearing a costume of any kind. Instead, they were all dressed from head to toe in finery. Girls wore dresses with heels, and boys wore suit jackets with ties. The inside of the house was decorated neatly with gold and black detailings giving an air of sophistication. Suddenly, the simplistic invitation began to make
sense.

“I’m so sorry.” Yuki looked at him with genuine pain in her eyes. By all means,

Arthur should’ve been mortified. He had planned for every outcome. Every outcome except for this one. Yes, it’s true, he should’ve been mortified. But instead of breaking down or running away, he felt a giggle bubble up in his throat. And he laughed.

Arthur nearly doubled over in laughter. He had to brace himself on the side of the house. Yuki watched on in concern, readying herself to stabilize him if he really did fall over.

“Wow. I feel like an idiot,” Arthur admitted, standing up straight after the initial shock wore off. He sighed, taking off the helmet he wore, careful of the delicate horns. Well, he’d tried. Some things weren’t meant to be. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair then.”

“No, don’t!” Yuki grabbed his arm, stopping him. When he turned back to her, she quickly let go, jumping back with a slightly reddened face. “I-I mean, it’s my fault. You should stay! I loveyour costume.”

“You do?” Arthur asked, eyes widening. Yuki nodded, back to her smiling self.

“Emperor Zorgan?” she asked, playfully raising an eyebrow. “It’s so detailed!”

“You know Battle Star 2035?” Arthur felt his throat go dry and his heart rate increase. The Yuki Suzuki, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, knew Battle Star 2035.

“Umm, duh! It’s only the reason I wanted to talk to you in the first place.” She giggled.

Before Arthur could ask she pointed at his chest. “You wore that Emperor Zorgan shirt to class and I’ve been working up the courage ever since!”
“You were working up the courage?” Arthur couldn’t believe his ears. Yuki Suzuki, the girl who had given him a chewed-up pen, ate loose gum in front of him and was late to nearly every class was scared to talk to him?

“I was right after all,” Arthur heard Artie’s voice say. “This girl really is hardcore.”

“You just seemed like such a big fan, it was a little intimidating,” Yuki admitted, looking at her feet and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want to come inside? I can introduce you to my friends, I’m sure they’d love your costume, too.”

“Well, Arthur?” Therin’s voice joined Artie’s in his head, pushing him forward ever so slightly.

“I’d love that.”