SOMETHING TO CLING TO

BEFORE YOU READ THIS. AGAIN. IM BEGGING YOU TO JUST READ IT ON THE DOC INSTEAD. THIS BIGASS SENTENCE IS A LINK

A low hung light glowed softly over Mistoffelees’ neatly set table, his shades drawn privately, but the room still lit with a gentle gold. Everything was in order for his best friend’s visit; he’d spent all day cleaning, and his quaint little apartment was now spick and span!
However, even with everything he had taken care of today, Mistoffelees still found himself wandering back and forth across his well vacuumed carpet, tapping his chin and searching his house for anything out of place--he just couldn’t help feeling like he’d forgotten something! He’d mopped the floors, washed the counters, done the dishes… he’d even mixed them up some drinks and cut a cheese platter!
It was when a familiar, energetic knock broke the silence that the kitmon shrugged it off, and must just be being too careful!

“Cream!” Mistoffelees greeted, cheerfully with a golden grin.
“Mistoffelees!” Cream mirrored, throwing his arms open as he stepped inside, and pulling Mistoffelees into a quick, but tight hug, making the smaller kitmon let out a surprised squeak. It wasn’t unwelcomed, though, and his smile remained in place as he pulled back from Cream to speak.

“How’ve you been?” He began, tilting his head.
“Pretty good, but a hell of a lot better now that I’m here!” Cream responded, with a rough chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it! I’ve been looking forward to this all day, too!” Mistoffelees agreed, his paw coming to his cheek bashfully as he stepped away.

“Well, why don’t you have a seat? I made mimosas.” Mistoffelees offered, pulling out a chair and gesturing towards the skinny glass sitting beside a placemat at the table.
Cream took his seat graciously, and his eyes widened as he held his drink up to his face.

“Damn, Misto! You really went all out, these all look really nice!” He exclaimed.

Mistoffelees just blushed and scratched the back of his head, other paw on the back of the chair he stood behind. “Aw, it was nothing…” He denied, humbly.

Cream took a loud gulp of his mimosa, and wiped his mouth on his wrist before speaking.
“So, what’s it gonna be first? War, black jack, go fish?”

“Oh crap, that was it!” Mistoffelees thought aloud, placing his paw on his forehead.
Before Cream even had to ask, Mistoffelees saw his questioning look, and flicked his fingers over his shoulder before he spoke, gesturing down the hall.
“I forgot my cards are still in my room! I’m just going to go get them.. Sorry!”

Cream, unaffected, shot back: “Oh, okay!”

Nodding once, Mistoffelees wasted no time hurrying off down the hall to his room. He started off by flicking his lamp on, another room illuminated in a warm, but dim orange, making the closet just barely bright enough to see into as he unfolded the step ladder inside.
Once he was up there, he rummaged around on his top shelf just a little too quickly, wondering why the hell he thought it was a good idea to buy so many board games in the first place… Of course he needed the smallest item of all he had up there. A few pushes aside later, Mistoffelees still had found nothing, and he was starting to feel rushed. Sure, Cream had been nice about him having to go back and find something, but still, he wanted to get back as soon as possible!
… Hurrying seemed to be a mistake, though, because one rough shove later, he’d found his cards, but also knocked a couple of shoeboxes off the shelf, which tumbled to the ground and fell open on the way, the contents scattering across the floor of his closet.

“Ohh--!” He groaned, slapping the pack into his fist and stepping back down the ladder, setting them down again on the first step as he knelt on the ground to gather his things back up.

The first box that fell had been full of knick knacks, mostly. Some had just been random things he’d seen at the store, or found on the street, but others made him smile as he picked them up, and he paused to give an extra look to each memento he found… One of his mother’s hair clips, a rock from Goby Canyon, a bird’s wing that Cream gave him… It was after a flier for a stageplay production of Phantom of the Opera that he decided to just scoop everything up in his paws and stuff it all away into the box, never mind seeing what everything was… What else had fallen?
Mistoffelees turned his head hesitantly to the mess to his left… It had been some old photographs in the last box. Maybe he could just leave these here and get back to them later. The kitmon paused, then shuffled forward, peering from behind his cheeks down at the pile. He could leave them there, but his neat nature got the best of him, and with a sigh, he began to gather them up. They came into the box in clumps at first, haphazardly piled up in wavering paws, until the edge of one got crinkled from his negligence.

Gasping at himself, dismayed, he straightened out the edge with a tight frown and checked to see what he’d ruined; a lovely picture of his father and mother, before he was born. Two black and white kitmons standing side by side, his father smiling a bit wider than his mother, but both equally put together, their fur combed and their blazers pressed for an awards ceremony. Mistoffelees wasn’t in the best mood anymore, but this was a nice picture nonetheless… If only he’d been more careful with it. 

Mistoffelees picked up the rest one by one, making them harder to ignore. With lowered ears, his eyes darted down at what he was holding, catching sight of black and white which was quickly shoved away. He lingered a little longer on the next one, though, finding an image of him as a kitten. His head was just a black ball of fluff poking out of a bundle of blankets in his dad’s paws, as he was lifted up so they were face to face. They looked alike, in this picture. The next was him on his first day of school, between his mom and dad, the three of them a matching set as he grinned outside the gate. The only thing setting him apart from them was his height and his uniform, here, silky furred, with a white blaze up the middle of his face… How much was left?
His body slouched forward and his shoulders slumped, Mistoffelees turned his head slowly to the small collection still on the floor, which waited for him silently. Vibrant reds and purples, dazzling lights of his past stared back at him, making themselves impossible to ignore and convincing Mistoffelees to crawl a little closer, leading him to lean over where they lay.

Photos of his youth found him first. One of tiny a kitten--wooly coated, eyes closed, too young to have been tainted by anything, clueless to the injustices of the world around him, knowing nothing but his mother’s warmth and his father’s love; unable to be anything but perfect.

The next a little later, seven years old, but still unburdened, unable to even imagine something like this could ever happen. He was beaming over his first tooth falling out in this picture, tongue pressed to the hole left behind, celebrating the asymmetry. 

Above it lay a photo of him  at his elementary school’s talent show, taken and captioned by his mother. He was bowing in the center, the dazzling gems on his jacket sending rays over the crowd as the spotlight centered on him--the winner. His Elvis performance had taken the crowd by a storm that day, everyones’ mind was blown that such a young boy could dance so well, all swearing he was destined for the stage. He was.

The lump forming in Mistoffelees’ throat grew heavier when he made eye contact with an old headshot, smile gentle, face sleek, and beautiful… Old was a strong word, this was taken just a year ago, but felt leagues away from where he found himself today.

 This was part of his portfolio when he used to submit himself to acting and modeling agencies, back when somebody would have actually wanted him, and called him back--when people said this was a dishonest photo, since he was much more handsome in person… When he was beautiful. 

The last photo left out was him in his proudest moment--when he was chosen for the star role in the Phantom of the Opera. As tears began to well, Mistoffelees was quick to blink them back, not wanting to ruin the last photo he had of himself before it happened. His eyes swept over the moved expressions of the crowd, some crying, others grinning, or gaping in awe. Every face  sang a different song, all but one still recognizable. He lingered on the cape, billowed over his back majestically in his powerful pose, wondering if it ever looked that gorgeous again nowadays, when he still wore it.. Finally, Mistoffelees focused on the obscured half of his face, his paw coming hesitantly to where it had been before, grazing over the rough line his fingers found.. If only he’d never had to take it off. His eyes were shut, mouth open as he sang, too lost in the song to notice a former friend taking the photo. He still remembered every word, every step of that dance, and that he took that day… But even more than the performance itself, the way it had felt to be celebrated, to have people want to see him, to not be ashamed. 

Mistoffelees didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

He stared down to the pile in deafening silence, knowing he needed to pick things up and move on, but found himself held tight by his thoughts. He’d almost become somebody, and maybe for a moment, he was. Mistoffelees sniffled as he asked himself how the kitmon in these pictures ever could have been him,  then telling himself it never would be again.

“Mistoffelees?”

Suddenly, a voice came from the hall, muffled by the distance but still making him jump. All at once, he realized how long he’d clung here, and his quivering lips parted in shock as he came back to reality. Scrambling to gather himself, he slapped his paw down onto the pack of cards, and used the free hand to wipe his eyes one last time, sniffling and gulping before he came to his feet.

       “S-Sorry!” Mistoffelees called back to Cream, a subtle, involuntary whimper prefixing his words.
       “I just dropped something, I was picking it up! I have the cards now.” He explained, excuse half true.

        On wobbly knees, he revealed himself from behind his bedroom door, hurrying out to meet Cream in the hallway. The other was staring at him, brows raised, but the rest of his face pushed to be plain.

       “I’m glad you’re okay! I heard a thud, then silence, so I’m sure you can see how I got worried…” Cream explained, chuckling dryly, “...are you sure you’re okay, though?”

Mistoffelees paused, head staying in the same place as his eyes contradicted, averting as he forced a small smile. “I’m sure, Cream. Let’s just go play cards.”
Cream thought it over for a moment, dimly assuming maybe nothing was wrong, or if there was, he wouldn’t get anywhere pushing it. So, as his ears perked up, he wrapped a supportive arm around Mistoffelees’ shoulders, and urged him forward. “Alright, then! Let’s go do that.”

He’d just have to ask about it later.