Time travel hasn't yet been invented, but 30 years from now, it will have been. Disposing of dead bodies is virtually impossible, with the insane amount of high tech DNA scanning and the like, so the people of the future have developed secret and likely illegal technology. They send criminals back in time for assassins, loopers, like Roman Prince, to kill them.

Like most killers, he remembered the faces of every single person he'd killed. They were engraved into the back of his mind as hard as the bullets he's put in them. They're so impossible to forget that he sometimes wonders how he got into this job in the first place. Was is money? Protection? None of it was worth it.

The job pays quite well; fitting, as loopers need to live off of the money and keep quiet about it, but Roman would much rather have a life that isn't polished in red. He'd worked as a Looper for 7 of the 30 years of his life. Killed 1,476 fugitives. 834 males and 642 females. Just over 210 people a year. He'd kept track mentally over the years, though he was not one for statistics.

And despite all of the years of his training, he couldn't kill the 1,477th.

They usually send them back with bags over their heads like lambs to the slaughter, but this one was free from all that.

Roman could see his face. The fear in his eyes was more piercing than the intense color. He was so mortally human and it sent him over the edge. His finger drifted away from the trigger on his gun. There was no way.

"Well?" The man asked me, his eyes manic and wide. His hands were tied behind his back and he was drenched in sweat. "If you do not proceed to kill me, your life will go downhill faster than the economy crashed before the Great Depression."

And Roman should have killed them right then and there, but being the useless gay that he was, he decided against it. All he could do was stare, wide-eyed and in shock, until his mouth figured out it could move and his voice decided to produce some sort of intelligible noise.

"Tough luck," Roman replied hoarsely. The man's voice had shaken Roman out of his shocked state. Be unloaded the gun and dropped it in the dirt. "Someone as handsome as you will probably be worth the trouble, anyway."

"You were supposed to kill me, and you have decided to flirt with me?" The man raised his eyebrows in the most disbelieving manner I thought possible of barely changing his expression.

"It would be a shame to kill such a beauty." Roman sighed, walked over to him, and sat down, regaining confidence by the second. This was more so his element than pulling triggers. "How'd such a tall drink of water wind up in such a bad position?"

"It would make little to no sense. The situation is remarkably complicated; it would have to be told year by year." The other man rolled his eyes in an air of superiority, but then stopped and barely breathed, "I've not even been born yet."

"For someone who looks so much like a nerd, I'm surprised you're thinking of time as a linear thing." Roman raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"For someone who comes off as such a hopeless romantic, I'm surprised you haven't won me over yet." The man retorted in Roman's exact tone, only more bitter. He looked down. "At least take me on a date before trying to get with me."

Roman scoffed at this. "I am not hopeless. I am a romantic, but not a hopeless one. And as soon as I'm sure you won't attack or possibly kill me as soon as I untie you, I will take you on a date. Maybe a restaurant and then a movie, but I don't really know what exists in your mind."

"Just take me to a restaurant that you enjoy. Everything changed when I was nine anyway." The fugitive squinted as he looked up at him. The sun was right behind Roman's head. "You do not yet know my name."

"Oh, of course! Where are my manners? My name is Roman. Roman Prince." He went to extend his hand but realized that the fugitive's hands were tied behind his back. Somewhat awkwardly, Roman reached behind the other man's back and shook his hand.

"Logan Berry." He introduced himself somewhat begrudgingly. "You have quite the nerve doing this." Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Not doing my job?" Roman asked, slightly incredulous. "Well, some sacrifices have to be made." He laughed softly. "Though I suppose this is reckless behavior-"

"Impulsive would be a better word," Logan interjected before he could continue, which made Roman look back at him. Apparently, that's what Logan wanted so that he could direct Roman attention back to his hands, which were still tied behind his back.

"I'll get you out if you tell me why they sent you back without a bag over your head." Roman crossed my arms.

Logan rolled his eyes and sighed a sigh so coated with loathing Roman thought only his brother, Virgil, could muster one more so. "I am '...arguably the most skilled TK in the world', as advertisers tend to put it."

"TK? Like the weird grade in between Preschool and Kindergarten?" Roman raised an eyebrow.

Logan stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "No, you absolute walnut. About 15 years from now, there will be a mutation amongst approximately 10% of the population. It will result in them being able to levitate objects as large as quarters. Occasionally, someone will be able to float a lighter." Logan wrinkled his nose and jerked his head back like something was bothering him.

"What?" Roman asked after the third nose wrinkle.

"I need to adjust my glasses."

"You can do that after you finish your story."

"Alright." Logan made a few more unsuccessful adjustment attempts before giving up and continuing. "When the mutation took action in me, it was like I was hit with a brief wave of polio. I was partially paralyzed, each breath was laborious, all of it. I was 14 when that happened. It was as if I had polio for a year. When I was 15, it passed. I suppose that because of my unlucky case of the mutation, I got exaggerated results. At first, I thought I was simply cured. Time did its magic, and I was normal again.

"But when I felt strong amounts of emotion, particularly fear, my energy would manifest in other objects and they would be manipulated by me. They did not have to be inanimate. I was more than a tad scrawny in school, so I was picked on quite frequently. One particularly bad day, something had done simply triggered something... primal in me, and I snapped. I blacked out for a second, and when I woke up..." Logan paused and shuddered.

"I was... I was covered in his blood. He had exploded because of what I had done." He swallowed like he could swallow the pain the memories brought back.

"Never again would I live a normal life. Be the peaceful Logan Berry I could have been. No, I was the reign of terror, thus why I was called the Rainmaker before my only public appearances were over the internet. People are afraid of me. You have no idea how much I desperately do not want that." His voice faltered as he finished.

"So in theory, you could just mind power those restraints right off of your wrists?" Roman pointed out.

"You would think they would have the mind-boggling idiocy put normal restraints on me?" Logan gave the most disbelieving look Roman ever seen from someone who probably always wore a stoic mask. "These are resistant to the TK mutation. There is nothing I can do about these... they're a bit like the silent stone in the Red Queen book series by Victoria Aveyard, though I'm not even certain that you even read."

Roman was taken aback. "Of course I read. I may not be a complete book nerd like you, but I enjoy my fair share of literature."

"But you have not read that particular book series." There wasn't a hint of questioning in his voice.

"Well, no," He admitted and went to take off his restraints.

"Thank you." He nodded and flexed his fingers. Roman shuddered as gravity momentarily lessened in a circle around us. Logan seemed hyperaware if my discomfort and stopped immediately, making all of the loose dirt and grass blades drop to the ground in unison.

"This is like something out of Star Wars." Roman scratched the back of his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Never heard that one before," Logan replied sarcastically and stood up. "Do you happen to live out here?" He gestured to the fields of crops.

"No, this is my friend's house-barn thing. He lets me come out here to... to do my job." Roman wrinkled his nose at the way he phrased that sentence. "I didn't mean to phrase that in such an impartial way. I need to find a different job."

"You seem gay enough. Join theatre and perform in a play." Logan looked me up and down. "The last time I saw someone that gay was when I looked in the mirror."

"I may have used that line before." Roman was so surprised that Logan would say something like that. It seemed slightly out of character for him, even though Roman had only known him for 15 minutes. "I actually used to be in theatre, but it didn't really pay enough for me to live as frivolously as I wanted."

"Roman? Who's the- oh no." I whipped my head around to see Patton, in a straw hat overalls, come rushing over. "You didn't do your thing? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but this could get you killed!"

"He believes that I am attractive enough for his impulsive behavior." Logan supplemented for my loss of words before extending a hand. "Logan Berry, pleased to meet you."

Patton seemed slightly shocked before breaking into a wide grin. "Patton Valentine. The pleasure's mine." He turned to Roman with an approving expression and the tiniest of nods.

Now, Logan was a bit more than confused to say the least. Throughout his elementary, middle, and his few high school years, students had called him names ranging from gay slurs to "four eyes". For two people in one day to approve of his overall appearance was mind-boggling to him. While he kept a stoic composure, he was a bit more than flattered internally.

Roman Prince. His name certainly fits his character, Logan mused with the smallest of smiles.

"Logan's gonna be some scary public figure in the future called the Rainmaker because he has powers." Roman immediately spilled some personal information to Patton before Logan had time to react.

It startled him from his thoughts enough to give him a jolt of anxiety.

"Do you two share every secret like soccer moms gossiping about their children?" Logan remarked softly.

"Your salty behavior reminds me a bit of one of our friends named Virgil." Patton nodded with a smile. He seemed like a happy and bubbly person. Someone you can't help but enjoy being around.

"When you're in my position, becoming a con man is inevitable." Logan adjusted my glasses. Finally, at least that was fixed.

"We should probably take you inside before someone sees you." Patton ushered Logan towards the barn door, but they all knew that someone was going to 'see' him anyway. "Maybe we'll get you some water or something?"

"I'll clear the area." Roman nodded. "Logan's my man, though. You can't hit on him."

That brought a flush of color to Logan's cheeks. Thankfully, it was a warm day, and all of their cheeks were some shade of pink, so Logan's momentary flustered state went unnoticed by the other two.

When they got inside, the first thing Logan smelled was cookies. Not just like walking into the pastry section of a bakery. This smell washed over him like a wave of nostalgia, knocking him back to when I was six during the Christmas season. It took him back to a sense of home he hadn't felt in ages.

"I take it the effect works on you, too?" Patton giggled as he plated about a dozen cookies.

"If you are referring to that frighteningly intense wave of nostalgia, yes." Logan put a hand to his temple to shake the feeling of something that hadn't technically happened yet. "The Proust Phenomenon."

"I know! Smells can take you back to certain memories so much better than any other sense." Patton popped a cookie in his mouth. "Oh! I forgot the milk! Silly me." He practically jumped out of his chair and went back to the kitchen.

"You can have a seat if you want, Logan." The still giggling man called from the kitchen as he poured the milk.

"Thank you," Logan replied softly and tentatively reached for a cookie.

"Oh, have as many as you'd like!" Patton sat down across from him and set two cups of milk on the table. The cookies tasted almost as nostalgic as they smelled.

That was when Roman burst through the door, gasping for breath as if he had been in the biggest rush of his life. "They're coming down the road."

Patton stood up, the shock immediately flushing into his face. Logan stood up with him, trying to control the flurry of panic welling up inside of him. They both went to get stuff, but Logan was left in the dining room, not entirely sure what to do other than try and control his ever-rising level of panic. The crumbs on the cookie plate were slightly levitating, only adding to his panic.

He took a deep breath and consciously let go of his mental control over the platter. The crumbs fell one by one with a somewhat therapeutic Clink! The act of letting them go helped Logan concentrate more on his surroundings, which made him belatedly realize that he had been developing tunnel vision. The edges of his gaze were fading in the panic he was getting himself into, so he decided to distract himself with simply reviewing the past couple of minutes.

Who were the people he had met? Roman Prince and Patton Valentine. Patton had mentioned someone named Virgil, who was likely a cynic and a pessimist. Logan was more or less looking forward to meeting him. And Patton was very caring, almost disconcertingly empathetic. Logan speculated that Patton would make an outstanding child therapist or something in that field.

Roman... he had helped Logan momentarily escape death, but it was a bit uncomfortable, the way he would shamelessly flirt. The public-ness of it was slightly uncomfortable for Logan because of the stark cultural difference. After VR, everything became very private and, for lack of a better word, personal. Anything and everything was done online, so doing things out in the open would take a bit to adjust to.

"Logan!" Roman's whisper-shout from the doorway got my attention. "Here."

He barely had time to react before Roman tossed him a handgun. Too scared of the noise it would make if it hit the ground, he'd wrapped it in cloth. Nevertheless, Logan had caught it and readied it, aiming it where someone's head would be at the door.

He didn't even see anyone when Roman threw a knife down at what seemed to be the floor, only to realize someone had tried to crawl in. He rushed at the doorway with an impressive lack of sound, elbowed another man in the throat, knocked him out with a swift blow to the back of the head, caught him before he hit the ground, and laid him down softly.

Logan figured his gun was a last resort, so he put it in his belt loop, retrieved the knife from the dead man on the ground, and rushed over just in time to see someone approaching Roman behind his back. Logan had never thrown a knife before, so he bolted at the enemy and slit his throat, mimicking the way Roman caught and laid him down. He'd miraculously not gotten any blood on anyone.

"We're in for it, now," Roman muttered and wiped his hand on his red pants. "They send them in sets of two, so we're good for now."

But that wasn't what he was wearing before. Before he was wearing faded light blue jeans that were slightly ripped in the knees, not that small details like that were relevant, but they were certainly... eye-catching. And his pants were not the only article of clothing that had since changed. Roman's entire outfit had an overall more professional look to it.

He was dressed in a blood red tuxedo and a golden tie. There was a minuscule rose pin on his breast pocket, but no actual flower in it.

"I have a change of clothes for you. They may be a bit more fanciful than what you'd normally wear, but you're gonna have to play a part in our escape plan." Roman handed me a white button-up shirt, a slightly shimmery navy blue blazer, and matching pants. No shoes or a tie was included, though Logan assumed that Roman expected him to keep his because they matched the overall look.

"Thank you." Logan somewhat awkwardly took the clothing from him, his eyes trained on Roman's face. He noticed that Roman wasn't looking into his eyes.

Did he just check me out? Logan thought incredulously. He blinked a few times in what could only be disbelief.

Roman suddenly glanced back up at his face and smiled. If Logan's mind wasn't functioning properly before, it surely wasn't now.

"I'll keep watch in case they send more people." Logan practically heard the smirk in Roman's voice. "Don't you worry, I'm facing the other direction."

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Logan quickly changed into the tuxedo while he was sure Roman was still turned around. He was in the middle of readjusting my tie as Roman turned back around and slipped his gun into his belt buckle near his back.

"How did you know you were not going to see anything you would regret seeing?" Logan hissed.

"What would I regret seeing?" Roman smirked deviously and smoothed out his collar.

"You kiddos ready?" Patton was wearing a yellow T-shirt over pastel blue overalls, cat socks, and white converse.

"Key me, will ya, Ro?" Patton asked from the kitchen. "Ever since the goose incident, I'm not trusting you behind the wheel."

Roman groaned and tossed Patton the car keys as Patton grabbed an apple from a small wicker basket on the counter. "Don't bring up the goose incident in front of Logan."

"No, bring it up. I am intrigued with this incident you so vaguely refer to." Logan fiddled with the cuffs at the wrists of his suit. "My apologies for the off-topic remark, but this is an exceptionally wonderful suit."

Patton giggled as we stepped out to go to the car. "Oh, the goose incident is a long, long story. To put it concisely, Roman had goose feathers in his hair for weeks and there were eggs in the motor of the car, not to mention the entire car was completely thrashed."

"Reckless much, Roman?" Logan raised an eyebrow as Roman covered his flushed face with his hand. "Where, exactly, are we going?"

"The city. Or, more precisely, a gigantic office building where Loopers meet." Roman stared at the road as he got in the passenger seat.

-------------

"Patton, you don't have to go into great detail, do you?" Roman whined, embarrassed by Patton's hyperrealistic rendition of the goose incident.

"If you want Logan to be bored, I can stop." If Patton hadn't have been driving, he would've definitely crossed his arms.

"Okay, fine." Roman sighed and rolled down the car window.

Despite the fact that the actual blue paint on the car was faded from the sun, the car itself was in decent condition, and the windows were surprisingly clear.

"You good back there?" He asked Logan.

He nodded and smiled softly. Roman smiled in return and switched on the radio. To his delight, the song "Bee Sting" by The Wombats was on. He knew the song. He simply had to sing along.

"...Hit by a lightning bolt,
now there's tire marks on the street.
I think I quite like this tune,
but couldn't you find a bigger beat?

"You drive me crazier
Than a wingless