C.M. Selbrede's Blog, page 2

I Am Enough

Content Warnings: Self-Harm and Suicidality.

It’s 12 A.M. I’m lying in bed frantically texting my friends because I’m afraid I’ve overshared with a distant friend. I’m playing Smith & Thell’s “Alice” on a loop to soothe me, only half-hearing its echoing strains. And then somewhere in there, somehow, something occurs to me. Something that I haven’t believed since I was ten years old.

I’m a good person. And I deserve to be happy.

[image error]Alex, Maddy, and I

If I’m honest, I’m not sure when I lost sight of this fact. Maybe it was kindergarten, when I’d stare in the mirror and wished my skin and hair were lighter. Maybe it was elementary school, when I made a mistake that felt so monumental I was sure somebody would show up to punish me, to make me face some kind of repercussions for my hubris. It could’ve been middle school, when I found myself entangled in a toxic friendship that left me feeling isolated and unwanted. All I know is that by high school, the damage had been done. Everything that seemed to go wrong felt like it was my fault, whether it was my drama teacher yelling at me or my friends telling me I was overestimating my importance or strangers on the internet bullying me out of a space I thought was safe. When the victories came, they felt meaningless… from my novels’ publications, to my National Gold Medal in Science Fiction/Fantasy, to the production of my webseries. No matter what I accomplished or what I did, I still felt empty, fragile, and brittle.

I’ve lived with depression for at least half my life. It’s colored every moment, weighed down every happy thought. It’s cast doubt over my relationships and invalidated my achievements. It’s led me to take blades to my skin so I could feel on my flesh what I felt in my heart, and it’s driven me to consider the fact that maybe, just maybe, I’d be better off dead.

For the first time in a decade, I don’t feel that way. I feel light. Giddy. But I also feel pragmatic. I know I won’t feel like this forever. Maybe when I wake up tomorrow to go swimming, and I’m exhausted from staying up late writing this, things will feel dismal and dark again. Maybe I’ll get to stay like this for a few days longer, until another faux pas sends me spiraling once more. Whatever the case, I know I need to get this down before the feeling is lost. To remind me of a sentence as close to truth as anything else I know.

I am enough.

I am a flawed person. I care, but I care too much… I obsess, and I obsess over how I don’t fit in. I am a privileged man with a loving family and a good home, but between my sexuality and autism I have struggled to find a place for myself. But, as corny and cheesy as it sounds, it’s never been about finding a home. It’s been about making one.

I am not a good rugby player. I am not a good public speaker. I am not athletic, I am not charismatic, I am not logical. But you know what?

I am kind. I am talented. I am brave and I’m creative and I’m funny. I’m a good friend. I see magic where others don’t and I stay true to myself despite the circumstances. I’m human. I’m so human it hurts. And considering the limited time I have, it is so important that I understand that and accept that.

My mental illness is not gone. It probably never will be. I don’t want anyone to think of this as a moment of miraculous healing. It’s a second of quiet clarity. A breath of fresh air after years inhaling toxins of my own creation. My depression is not my fault, but recovering from it is my responsibility and its one I take seriously.

I don’t want this essay to be any longer than it has to be. There’s nothing neat about my feelings, and I couldn’t encapsulate everything in a few pages if I tried. But if you take anything from this message, take this: You can be loved and love but none of it will matter if you can’t love yourself. And that is not an easy thing to do.

I may regret this post tomorrow. But I hope I do not regret the power I feel in this moment. I am more than my worst estimations of myself even if I’m less than I’d hoped to be.

Thank you all, and may you know peace in these tumultuous times.

Love,

Craig

ACC 20/20: August

Welcome to the return of the Electric/Eccentric blog! This month is starting out small with the return of the Starlight creative writing exercise, and the Anna, Farmer chapterbook. Look for more programming next month!

[image error]Photo by Efdal YILDIZ on Pexels.com



Thursday, August 6th- “Starlight #14: Littleville” (Starlight) Thursday, August 20th- “Chapter IX” (Anna, Farmer)Monday, August 31st- “ACC 20/20: September” (ACC 20/20 Inventory)

The Valley Chronicles: A Retrospective

Today, excluding a few logistical issues with distribution, I celebrate the completion of my first series of novels: The Valley Chronicles, an epic trilogy about family, imagination, and sacrifice. I wrote the short stories that would form the basis for The Valley Chronicles a decade ago, and I began writing this trilogy a mere four years later. It took me six years to write and publish the three novels in the series: The Valley Chronicles, The Valley Chronicles: Quest, and The Valley Chronicles: Tempest.

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The novels are far from perfect, especially my debut entry. Yet every successive book improved on the last, clarifying mythology, solidifying character, and introducing more diverse characters and situations while improving on the previous works. I will admit, especially in light of the recent #BlackLivesMatter movement, that The Valley Chronicles remains woefully “color blind”. The few human characters’ races are not defined, but, honestly, they were all imagined as Caucasian and there is no excuse for that. All I can do is promise that my next series, I’ll do better: I’ll do the research, make the effort, and produce a more diverse cast of characters who complement each other and the story. Nevertheless, I am proud of the diversity of sexual orientations found in The Valley Chronicles, a wonder considering the fact that romance was almost entirely irrelevant to the series. Again, the representation was far from perfect, but it was a start for me.

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The three Valley Chronicles books were written under vastly different circumstances, at vastly different periods in my life. The debut novel was written for National Novel Writing Month in middle school, an awkward and painful period of my life where I had not yet found my identity. Book One was, therefore, simultaneously simple and messy, complex yet cut-and-dry. I eagerly imported John, Violet, Hodgey, Ruby, and Sapphire from the short stories I’d written at Aquinas Montessori, based on the works of Edward Hopper. I took the villain of these stories, Colonel Jealousy, and created the Soldiers of Sorrow. From there, it was a matter of introducing some fresh faces (Caleb, Topaz, Trent) while bringing in Fira and Twiggy early (after changing them from Angel and Hops, who were too similar in species and personality to characters in another book series) and creating some characters based on stuffed animals (Hermia). Much of the book remained in flux from its inception to its final draft: A romance between John and Topaz was cut, the Nightlock Arrows and Pandora’s Box were introduced, and John’s friends found their importance dwindling as focus shifted to the Valley. John spends much of the first book angry: perhaps a reflection of my own frustration with the pressures of growing up and moving on from the imagination and hope of childhood. There are some oddities in the book, products of a more childish mind. Nevertheless, it works well, introducing the characters and setting the stage for better, more complex adventures.

The second book was written during high school, in between classes, at play practice (ugh), and in the hospital hallways when my grandmother fell ill. There is a spark of excitement to this novel, as it corresponded with a time in high school when I was finding a better sense of myself: Starting hockey, making new friends, moving on from some of the toxic patterns which had defined me. The book does an extraordinary job piecing together a found family in the group of questers: John, Violet, and Hodgey, of course, joined by Twiggy and Fira, Sapphire and Trent, and fan-favorite newcomers Bananas and Frosty. There was a gleeful sense of mish-mash and why not? to the proceedings, which began crossing genres and introducing new layers to the world of the Valley. This was probably the happiest I’ve ever been with an entry in The Valley Chronicles, and if you read the novel, I think you’d agree.

The third book, meanwhile, took over a year to write, with most of the writing taking place in the months following a heavy mental breakdown. The book was always intended to be darker than its predecessors, but this certainly didn’t help. Nevertheless, this entry had the blessing and curse of following up on Quest, meaning it inherited all the zany hijinks of the second book even as it revisited some of the darker elements of the first book. The end result is a massive, sprawling narrative, juggling competing mythologies and information with satisfying conclusions for the various characters. I will admit I got a bit bloodthirsty, more than halving the central cast, but it was all in good fun and the ending remained hopeful and painfully bittersweet.

Bittersweet: The best way to describe finishing The Valley Chronicles trilogy. I think, to some degree, while writing these books I was deluded into thinking they’d be my path to success. The fact is that I have a lot more work to do before I can make it as a writer. What I’ve done is impressive, but it’s just a start. I’ll always be grateful to John, Violet, and Hodgey, and I hope one day the world can appreciate what I’ve built, but I understand the chances are that this series’ legacy will be largely nonexistent. It’s the nature of the beast, and a fact I half-knew as I plowed through the self-publishing process.

My next novels will take place in the same world as The Valley Chronicles, but not quite enough that it constitutes the label of “spinoff”. Rather, The Outsiders Club will stand on its own, potentially being sent to publishers and agents instead of being self-published, although that remains to be seen.

Thank you all for joining me on this journey. If you haven’t read the Valley Chronicles, consider giving them a shot. If you have, I’m forever indebted to you in a way I can’t repay. Thank you all for everything.

-Craig

Memoir: Rugby & Me

Being very bad at something is a peculiar feeling; and I am very bad at rugby indeed.

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The Summer before my first semester at Bates, my mother was called by a current Bates parent and welcomed to the Bobcat family. Somewhere in the conversation, the parent disclosed that her son was on the rugby team, and recommended to my mother that I give it a shot. My mother simply laughed. There was nothing to her that seemed less likely than me, on a rugby pitch, throwing and catching and tackling and being tackled.

When my mother told me about this conversation, thinking it funny that rugby had even been suggested, I laughed along nervously. What my mother didn’t know is I’d already had a brief exchange over email with the current rugby captain over possibly giving it a try. At the time, I was playing ice hockey, and anticipated joining the club team in the Fall. It seemed to me that another club sport, maybe Rugby or Water Polo, would be a great way to stay in shape for hockey.

My first week on campus, I almost skipped the first rugby practice of the year. I was far too nervous to consider giving something like this a shot. But Adam, my first friend at Bates, was adamant I give rugby a try, and so I showed up, awkwardly tossed the ball around, and tried to wrap my head around lines for an afternoon. Afterwards, I felt too awkward to quit. And so the most significant experience of my freshman year began.

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I didn’t know much about rugby going in. All I knew was that I was not the prototypical rugby player. I’m not athletic, nor aggressive; I am neither neurotypical nor heterosexual. I have often doubted my place within the team, and I have spent many a night agonizing over whether or not I truly belong.  I have never seen these doubts reflected in my teammates. From the very beginning, they’ve been committed to treating me as an equal and essential part of the team. I may not be the most in-demand player when it comes time to play the game or even run some drills, but I am not valued any less. My teammates have taken my quirks and my faults and ran with them, never once stopping to ask me why I was different.

I’m still very bad at rugby. To the outside observer, it still seems I am brand new to the game despite having been playing for two-ish years. Freshman year, I fought this fact by helping out every way I could and attending almost every practice. Sophomore year, I let my doubts consume me, missing practices and events because I couldn’t stop replaying that embarrassing screw-up from the last game of touch I’d participated in. I don’t know what the future holds for me. My hope is to play one game on the pitch, wearing the Bates jersey, before my time with the team comes to an end. Regardless, the importance of rugby to my time at Bates cannot be understated.

Rugby has pushed me in ways I never could’ve imagined. It gave me a family on campus and a structure to my early days. It gave me so many friends who I couldn’t begin to name, such as Andrew and Pember, who always let me hang out with them at rugby events, Erik, who’s offered me advice on everything from rugby to filmmaking, Bilski, who generously lends his car whenever somebody needs it, George, Carlson, Keystone, Tim, Tom, the list goes on and on.

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I could share so many stories and mistakes, successes and failures, but I’ll err on the side of brevity. I deeply appreciate the time I’ve spent with Bates Rugby Football Club, and I thank my teammates and coaches for all of their understanding and support. If you have the chance to support BRFC, I urge you to consider it, and if you have the chance to try rugby, I’d recommend you give it a go. Even if the sport doesn’t click for you, the community might just make you stick around.

A Few Updates!

As an update, the Electric/Eccentric blog is going to go on hiatus while I focus on:

Finally releasing The Valley Chronicles: TempestStarting on The Outsiders ClubFilming Cedric Clarke & the Unsettling Darkand Developing several more top secret projects!

Keep an eye on this blog, along with the ACC Pub Ink Facebook page and @accwebseries instagram for more information soon!

-Craig

Starlight #13: Bloodbound

Starlight is a series I started writing for fun in 2016, written in the “style” of a comic book.  As such, this is not my best writing, but it’s something I had fun doing.

Nala’s car pulls up to another mansion, huge, well-decorated. As Cad, Hunter, and Nala get out of the car, Castor approaches from his home.

Cas: Nala.

Nala: Cassie.

Castor and Nala embrace. She steps back and jerks her head towards Cad and Hunter.

Nala: This is Cadmus. That’s Humphrie.

Hunter: Hunter.

Nala: Right.

Cas: Nice to meet you.

He shakes their hands.

Cas: Friends from school?

Cad: Kinda.

Cas: Kinda?

Cad and Hunter exchange a look, uncertain how much they should be sharing. Nala cuts in.

Nala: Thank you for buzzing us in.

Cas: No problem. It’s always good to see you. But, if you don’t mind me asking, what brings you and your friends here?

Nala: Mal’s murder.

Cas frowns.

Cas: That thing wasn’t Mal.

Nala: Well whatever that thing was… they brought it to your house.

Cas: Wait… what?

We cut to Parker’s house, where he and Eliza are getting Millie settled in an armchair.

Millie: Th-thank you.

Eliza: Of course.

Parker: No problem. Can we get you anything else? Water? Food?

Millie (Bitterly): Like I’d eat anything in this–

She catches herself.

Millie: I’m… sorry.

Eliza: It’s totally fine. What you’re going through…

She hesitates.

Eliza: What you saw…

Millie looks away.

Parker: Yeah, what did you see?

Eliza: Parker!

Millie: I… I…

A tear trickles down her cheek.

Millie: I can’t.

Parker: Oh, um, sorry.

Millie: I can’t, I can’t I–

Eliza: Woah, woah, it’s okay…

Eliza hugs Millie as Parker shrinks back.

Millie (Quietly): He’s gone. He’s really gone.

We return to the others as they enter the DuPont mansion.

Cas: I don’t understand. The servants saw my parents take the body?

Nala: They did.

Cas: Why would they do that?

Hunter: Well, what do your parents do? I’ve never heard of them, and you seem pretty well off.

Cas shrugs.

Cas: They’re doctors.

Cad (Narration): Helpful.

Cad: What kind of doctors?

Cas: I… can’t talk about that. My parents’ research is very sensitive–

Nala: You don’t know, do you?

Cas: …I have my suspicions.

He stops.

Cas: What are you expecting to find here?

Nala: We need to see the body.

Cas: Even if we could find that, what qualifies you to even do that?

Nala: No one else is even trying to figure out what happened, Cas. That doesn’t bother you?

Cas: If what you say is true, my parents are.

Nala: They’re researchers, not detectives.

Cas: And you are?

Nala: Tell me, Cas… have you ever known me to turn away from a mystery?

Cas sighs.

Cas: I’ll take you to their lab.

Cad: Are you sure?

Cas looks over at Cad with something like surprise.

Cas: Of course. Mal and Millie may not have been as close to me as Nala, but… they were still like family. If you can find out what happened…?

Hunter: We can.

Nala: And we will.

We return to Parker’s house, where Millie is watching ballet on the TV. Eliza and Parker watch her from afar, curious.

Eliza: She seems… better.

Parker: Maybe she’s ready to give us some answers.

Eliza: I doubt that.

Parker: …Yeah, me too.

Eliza and Parker regard each other somewhat awkwardly.

Eliza: I’ve never been to your house, before. Even when Cad and I dated.

Parker: I know.

Eliza: It’s nice.

Parker: Trust me, it isn’t.

Eliza flinches as if stung.

Eliza: You keep watching Millie, okay? I need to use the bathroom.

Parker: Sure.

Eliza steps into the bathroom. As she does so, a shadow flickers behind her in the mirror.

Creature: Eliza…

We return to Cadmus and the others as they arrive in a high-tech laboratory. It is clean, sterile, and empty.

Hunter: Woah. It’s so…

Cad: Creepy.

Cas: Excuse me?

Nala: Don’t mind him. Caddie’s had some bad experiences in laboratories as of late.

Cas: Well, this is it. No body.

Hunter: It’s not like they would just leave it out.

Cas: You’re saying you think its hidden somewhere here?

Hunter: I mean, probably.

Something catches Cad’s eye. He moves carefully to the other side of the lab, where a filing cabinet sits locked.

Cad: This looks older than everything else here.

Nala: Cad?

Cad: Almost like it was built before everything else.

Gingerly, Cad tugs at the filing cabinet. He pulls a drawer open and, across the room, a door becomes visible, shelves moving to reveal it.

Hunter: Woah.

Nala: Hm.

She strides up the door, which has a keypad next to it.

Cas: Geez…

Nala: Cassie darling, what’s your birthday?

Cas: May 7, 1999. But no way that’s the–

The door slides open.

Cas: Code.

Nala: Of course it wasn’t.

She looks up.

Nala: It was your birthday backward.

Nala steps into the room. The boys watch her, stunned.

Cad: She’s kind of scary sometimes.

Cas: No kidding.

Cad: Let’s see what we have here.

Cut back to Parker as he sits down next to Millie on the house.

Parker: Uh… hey.

There’s silence.

Parker: You a big dance person?

Millie: …I love it.

Nervously, she turns to look at Parker.

Millie: Dancing, acting… they’re my favorite things in the world.

Parker: Really?

Millie: Yeah. I’ve actually had a recurring role on some TV shows.

Parker: Dude, that’s so cool.

Millie: …Thanks.

She hesitates.

Millie: Want to… watch some, with me?

Parker: …I’d love to.

We return to the mansion, where the other half of Team Starlight and Castor emerge in a small, cramped room. A computer monitor is in the corner, which Hunter makes a beeline to.

Nala: How long until your parents finish their call with the company?

Cas: No clue.

Nala: So, any moment.

Cas: Basically.

Cad approaches the shocked, decompsing body of the alien. He flinches somewhat.

Cad: He looks surprised.

Cas: I know the feeling.

Cad: Hunter, can you get into the system?

Hunter: It’s coded to certain users. But maybe…

They turn to Cas.

Nala: Well, worth a shot.

Cas places a hand on the computer, and it beeps.

Computer: User: Castor Hector DuPont. Approved.

Cas: …Wow.

He steps aside and lets Hunter get to the computer.

Nala: Anything?

Hunter: …Weirdly, yeah. It doesn’t look like they’ve cut into him at all yet but they already have his DNA on file. And some notes.

Cad: Notes?

Hunter: A location.

He looks up.

Hunter: Have any of you heard of Littleville, Kansas?

Just then, Nala’s phone rings. She frowns.

Nala: It’s Holly.

Cas: The Emmens’ housekeeper?

Nala answers.

Nala: Hello?

Holly: Nala, thank Goodness. It’s Mr. Emmens…

We cut to Holly peeking around the corner at Mr. Emmens, who is holding an alien-looking gun.

Holly: I think he’s been replaced.

Next: Super-Weird!

ACC 20/20: February

[image error] Photo by  freestocks.org  from  Pexels



Monday, February 3rd – “TBD” (Poem)Thursday, February 6th- Starlight #13: Bloodbound (Starlight) Monday, February 10th- “Production Begins” (Behind the Camera: Cedric Clarke) Monday, February 17th- “TBD” (Poem)Thursday, February 20th- “Chapter X” (Anna, Farmer)Monday, February 24th- “The Toys That Made Me, Part Two” (Memoir)Saturday, February 29th- “ACC 20/20: March” (ACC 20/20 Inventory)

Poem: Shadow

[image error]Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on Pexels.com

a shadow sits upon us
it shades the past in scarlet tones
it enrages the things that once were calm
and calls for an end to hope.

love is gone away now
it hides beneath a veneer of regret
it shatters beneath the weight of the end
and wishes for better days, now long gone.

Together, we seek the future.
Do not despair, the past is as it was
Both good and bad, the parts
Will live with us tomorrow.

Behind the Camera: Development

Behind the Camera is an exclusive behind the scenes look at the production of Cedric Clarke and the Unsettling Dark, a scifi webseries coming to YouTube in 2020.

Development began in mid-2019, around the time when two Season 2 began to fizzle out. I approached Gus Scanlon about showrunning a series with me during Short Term 2019, and he agreed. As we began to plot out a loose timeline, I posted to a Bates Artists Facebook page in search of more creators for development. It was there that I was approached by Alex Teplitz, who would shortly become our third showrunner.

Over the Summer, Gus was too busy to develop anything, so development went essentially on hold around this time. Alex and I had some unofficial chats, where she floated some loose ideas… including the idea which would become Cedric Clarke: “What if somebody died and was forced to solve their own murder?”

I took this idea and developed a loose concept, combining it with another idea of mine I’d tentatively developed and creating “Izaac Clarke & the Unsettling Dark”. Gus pointed out that Izaac Clarke was a character in a video game, so Izaac became Cedric, but the idea stuck and, when Gus stepped back from the project in Fall Term 2019, became the official basis for the webseries.

It’s around here that my memory of Development becomes somewhat murky. However, I do know that Alex was abroad in Ireland and so further development fell squarely upon my shoulders. I came up with the characters and wrote rough drafts of the first three episodes before stepping back to consider what I had created.

Recognizing we needed some help, Alex posted to various Facebook groups in search of more people for the webseries. Some people stuck, others didn’t, but it was then that two important people entered production: Henri Emmet and Olivia Dimond. They would transform Development into Pre-Production with their ideas and much-needed aid.

In February: Pre-Production!

Starlight #12: E.T.

Starlight is a series I started writing for fun in 2016, written in the “style” of a comic book.  As such, this is not my best writing, but it’s something I had fun doing.

We open in Parker’s home. Parker is playing video games, on call with Hunter, at his own house.

Parker: Throw up some cover…

Hunter: I’m working on it, working on…

There’s a sad beep.

Parker: Ah. Damn.

Hunter: Hey, second place isn’t bad.

Parker: We can do better.

Hunter: Oh, for sure. Want to run it again?

A voice calls off-panel.

Mr. Hayes: Parker!

Parker: Can’t. Looks like my Dad wants to talk.

Hunter: Ah. Good luck.

Parker: Thanks. I’ll need it.

Parker descends the stairs to where his father is standing, arms crossed, waiting for him.

Parker: Hey, Dad.

Mr. Hayes: Park. What the Hell are you doing?

Parker: What do you mean?

Mr. Hayes: I mean that I can hear you upstairs playing computer games when you should be either a) doing your chores, b) doing your homework or c)–

Parker: Let me guess, practicing football?

Mr. Hayes: Son, you know last game wasn’t your best. Don’t you care about the game?

Parker: I do, Dad, but it would be nice to have some time to relax once in a–

Mr. Hayes: Relax? You’re lucky. When I was your age, I was working from 9 to 5 every day. No time to relax for me.

Parker: Right, Dad.

Mr. Hayes: I don’t want to have this conversation with you again.

Parker: Of course, Dad.

Mr. Hayes: Good.

Parker’s Dad walks away, leaving Parker alone. Suddenly, his phone rings. He answers.

Parker: Cad?

Cad (Voice): Hey, Parker… something’s come up.

We cut ahead to the highway, where Nala is driving Team Starlight to an unknown destination.

Hunter: Wait, he was what?

Nala: An alien.

Hunter: So, let me get this straight, not only did someone somehow break into the home of one of the richest families in America, and not only did they manage to get into a locked room and murder the heir to the empire, but he’d already been replaced by a shape-shifting alien?

Nala: Mhm.

Hunter: Geez.

Eliza: Are you sure he’s an alien? Maybe he’s… I don’t know, a mutant or something?

Nala: Just going with my gut, darling. Whatever that was, it wasn’t of this world.

Parker: Rad.

Eliza: Really, Parker?

Parker: You’re telling me you’re not excited for an alien murder mystery?

Nala: Caddie?

Cad has been silent this whole time. He turns, questioningly, to Nala.

Cad: Yeah?

Nala: You’ve been quiet. What do you think?

Cad: I don’t know what to think, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

They arrive at the mansion, huge, looming… quiet. Team Starlight exits the car.

Hunter: Huh.

Parker: What?

Hunter: Where’s the police? I mean someone was just murdered.

Eliza: Well, allegedly it was an alien…

Hunter: Fine, so where’s the secret government agency to carry his corpse to Area 51?

Nala: All of you, shut up. Believe me, getting in is going to be easier said than done.

Eliza: Why?

Nala: Frankly, darling, the four of you are poor as $#!!.

Parker: Fair.

They reach the front door and knock. A butler answers the door.

Butler: Miss Highland… I’m afraid this isn’t a good time.

Nala: Let me in, Frank. My father–

Butler: Your father has no jurisdiction here, now–

Voice (Off-Panel): Nala?

An older woman peers over, and the butler shrinks back.

Woman: Is there a problem?

Nala: Frank here is refusing to let me in, Holly.

Holly: Well, you have brought strangers.

Nala: They’re here to help.

Holly: …

The next thing we know, Holly is leading them down the hallway.

Holly: Malcolm was always fond of you, Nala, which is why I’m trusting you to bring him home.

Nala: Holly, we don’t know if he’s–

Holly: He’s alive, he has to be. That thing? Isn’t him.

They stop at a door.

Holly: It’s all in there. Good luck.

Nala: Thank you?

Voice (Off-Panel) Nala?

Team Starlight turns to see the sniffling form of Millie, peeking out of another room.

Holly: Millie, honey, you’re up?

Parker: Up?

Holly (Quietly): She’s been catatonic since… the incident.

Nala: I’ll go talk to her. You guys take a look around.

Eliza: Okay.

Team Starlight (minus Nala) enters the room. A lot has been taped off, but there is no sign of police.

Hunter: Still no police. Weird.

Cad (Narration): There’s something weird about all this. Why aren’t there any cops here? Do the, uh… Emmens, have something to hide?

Parker points out the shattered window, and a rock laying inside.

Parker: Looks like this is how the person broke in. Through the balcony.

Hunter: Someone climbed all the way up here and broke in through a fourth floor balcony?

Parker: Wait, this is the fourth floor??? Rich people.

Cad lingers at the taped up spot where the body used to be.

Cad: No sign of the body. They say he wasn’t human. But then again, neither am–

Eliza: Cad? You okay?

Cad: Yeah, just–

Voice (Off-Panel): What is the meaning of this?

Mr. Emmens strides in, looking furious.

Mr. Emmens: Who are you people? What are you doing here?

Holly enters in quickly behind him.

Holly: Sir, they’re friends of the Highlands–

Mr. Emmens: I want you out of my house. Immediately.

Parker: Sir, we just want to help–

Mr. Emmens: You can help by getting out of our way.

Eliza: Excuse me, Mr. Emmens, but we have experience with some strange things. If you really want your son found–

Mr. Emmens: Don’t tell me what I want.

Mr. Emmens scowls.

Mr. Emmens: Get out. Now.

The door slams outside the mansion. Team Starlight blinks, caught off guard.

Hunter: That was kind of…

Cad: Yeah…

Nala suddenly opens the door emerging.

Nala: Did you all find anything?

Parker: Not much, before we were kicked–

Millie slides out the door behind Nala.

Parker: Um, what is she…?

Millie: I want to know what happened to my brother.

Nala: We’ll have to hurry. He won’t like that she’s gone.

Eliza: So should we be…?

Nala: Get in.

Cad: Yup, there’s definitely something off. But then again… that’s kind of par the course, isn’t it?

We briefly cut to Cad’s house. For a few panels, we linger on the door. It opens, suddenly, and then closes with a slam.

We cut back to the team. They arrive outside Parker’s house. The team and Millie get out of the car.

Parker: Um, is there a reason why we’re back at my–

Nala: Parker, Eliza, the two of you are going to stay with Millie.

Millie: What? You’re dumping me at this hovel?

Parker: Hey!

Millie: I want to help!

Nala: Someone replaced your brother and then he ended up dead. We don’t want that happening to you. Nobody will look for you here.

Millie (Quietly): That’s for sure.

Nala: It’s just for a bit, while Cadmus, Hayden–

Hunter: Hunter.

Nala: –and I follow up on my next lead.

Eliza: You have another lead?

Nala: I do. We need to see the body.

Millie: They took the body away.

Nala: Well, I paid the staff and I know where they’re taking it. We’ll figure it out.

Millie: I want to help figure it out!

Nala: Tough.

Nala grabs Cad and Hunter and drag them away.

Nala: Come on, boys…

Cad: Hey–

Hunter: Let go of me!

The car speeds away.

Eliza: Parker, are you even allowed to bring two random girls into your house?

Parker shrugs.

Parker: Way my dad is? He might just call me a man.

Eliza & Millie: Gross.

Parker: Oh, for sure, for sure. Come on in.

As they walk into the house, we cut back to the car. Cad stares out the window.

Cad: We have a murder mystery, a plan, and a team on the job. Now all we need is that extra special…

We cut to a small farming town, where a spaceship sits hidden in a barn.

Cad: Complication.

NEXT: Digging Deeper!