Bard stands at the desk in his room. Another day gone. Another birthday gone. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve the gift card Lup gave him– he wouldn’t want to lose it, especially considering he wants to stop by her restaurant now. He finds the card, but his fingers brush across something else… paper? Bard pulls out the crumpled page, confused for only a moment until he opens it up. A sheet of staff paper, with only one name scribbled across the top: Bradley.
He’d forgotten all about that paper until now. He’d written that there, what, a month ago? In the park with his nameless friend… This is his last piece of paper from home. He sighs, shakily, as he places the paper down at his desk and sits down in front of it. The name seems almost foreign now… Bradley. His love, his king in shining armor… and he hasn’t thought about him in weeks. He feels so guilty. He’s letting his home go already. He doesn’t want to move on…
…But he’s spent a birthday here already. One without Bradley, or Cooper, or Doe, or any of his other friends. And what does he have to show for it, a gift card? Two well wishes from people he barely knows? Why does it have to be like this? Why can’t he just go home? He’s losing so much of it already, more of him is becoming part of Isola than it is Pridemoor, faster than he wants it to, and he’s not ready.
Bard hastily pulls the feather pen from his hat, poised above the paper… But what is there to write? What series of dots on lines could he possibly place on paper to ever communicate how he feels right now? What’s the point?
He lets the pen fall from his hand, landing uselessly onto the desk. He throws off his hat, casting it aside and onto the floor. He stands, only long enough to throw himself into bed.
Bard stares up at the ceiling, and he can’t help but feel so empty. What does he do now?