You Made Me The Villain

Sitting in a dead silent room was not what they had thought this would be. Granted, there was no precedent for this. Yet, they all knew this would go nowhere unless someone spoke.

Unfortunately, no one wanted to be the first to start. None of them wanted to be the one to break the silence that had stayed with them as they entered the room and sat at the table. Once burned, twice shy and all that.

The host sighs, turning her head to the door. Then upwards. This was going swimmingly. Great call. How five people could sit in a room and not say anything was a wonder in and off itself. Still...

"Welcome," she says, taking a seat at the front of the table in a throne of a chair. "If everyone is comfortable, I'd like to commence our first, hopefully annual, meeting for misunderstood characters."

"Misunderstood!?" A woman with blonde curls and sky blue eyes scoffs. "I feel like that's an understatement."

"Agreed." The man straightens his suit, feet tapping at the floor. "The word feels insufficient."

"They made us into villains," the young girl says softly.

The boy next to her sighs, but remains silent. His face is covered by the hood of his jacket. Yet, the host makes out a quick nod of his head.

"I know," she says. "I know this isn't easy for you. I only ask that you give this meeting a chance."

None of them say a word now. A small spark of tension going through the room, almost tangible in its nervousness. The host forces a smile. It strains against the fabric of the mask over her eyes.

"I'm here to help," she tells them gently.

"We don't even know your name," the young girl points out. "How could we possibly trust you?"

Alright. Fair point. "You can call me Alexa," she tells them. A pause. "In normal circumstances, I'd ask you to introduce yourselves, but I understand if you don't feel ready yet. However."

Alexa gives them a pointed look. "If this meeting is to have any success, you'll need to be willing to share your story. Isn't that what you all agreed to?"

Even in its infancy, the plan was alway to get consent from the participants. The higher ups had taken an interest in them for a reason. They'd noticed the resentment building and knew it would be catastrophic if left to its own devices.

"It doesn't have to be your true name," she reminds them. "In fact, I encourage you to use a pseudonym."

They all nod, yet she can still sense some hesitance from them. Alexa is about to throw caution to the wind and end this hellish meeting early, when the blonde woman clears her throat nervously.

"Ellie," she says while keeping direct eye contact. Alexa can see the slight shake in her hands. "My name is Ellie."

"Isla," the young girl says, straightening in her chair.

"Felix." Alexa can barely here him through his hoodie.

The businessman sighs again, a wry smile on his face that makes it clear how he feels. "I suppose we're really doing this." Then louder. "Andrew."

Another beat of silence. "Jessica."

Alexa grins. "Great! Now that we've all introduced ourselves. Let us go over the three rules. I'm sure you've all read them, but let's refresh shall we?"

She snapped her fingers and a holographic screen appeared in the centre of the room. It shimmered slightly before taking the form of an open book.

"Rule number one. Persons should not interrupt the speaker unless the speaker allows it." The words floated out of the book as she spoke. "Failure to comply will bind the speakers tongue."

"Rule number two. Everyone is to be treated with the bare minimum courtesy and not judged for the decisions they made in their stories." A pointed look around the room. "Failure to comply will result in expulsion."

"Last rule. The names and identities of the participants are to remain confidential and not to be shared or spoken with anyone outside of this group without explicit permission." This was the most important one. "Noncompliance can and will lead to time in the nowhere zone."

The nowhere zone was where people who misbehaved in their stories were sent. It was a black hole of nothingness and could be excruciatingly painful. It was a tad excessive, but she doubted the member of the group would have agreed without that insurance.

"Are we all agreed?" Nods from the table. "Good!" A clap and the story book slammed shut, replaced by a floating microphone.

"Now, as we all know, the purpose of this meeting is to share your side of the story. To be heard and understood. So," she smiles, "who wants to start?"

A hesitant hand reaches for the microphone before she is even finished speaking. Ellie's hand wraps around it and brings it to her mouth. With the microphone, a spotlight follows.

"I will." A deep sigh. "I want to do this before I lose my nerve."

"Very well," Alexa says with a smile. "The room is yours."