Billy Troll's Arc

Chapter 11 of 14

Billy woke before dawn and checked his phone. The album photo Dianne had shown him yesterday was still there in his messages—proof that he'd never been invisible at the hospital, even when he'd felt like it. He got dressed quietly and made coffee in the kitchen while Dianne still slept. He was halfway through his cup when his phone started buzzing. Texts from Suzie. From the girls in the band. From people he hadn't heard from in months. Each message had the same link attached. Billy clicked it and watched his phone load a video—Mic standing in front of a makeshift board set up in the town square, a large envelope taped to the center like a target. Mic was speaking directly to the camera, holding up a silver pen with Billy's initials etched into the barrel. He told the crowd that Billy had rigged the competition himself, planted the evidence in the shed to make Mic look guilty, all to cover his own attempt at fixing the battle. The envelope on the board had Billy's name written across it in what looked like his own handwriting. Mic threw a dart at the board and it stuck right through the envelope. The crowd cheered. The video ended. Billy set the phone down and stared at the kitchen counter. Everything he'd done—finding the envelope, showing the girls, convincing them to compete anyway—now looked like his own scheme to frame Mic. The pen was real. He'd lost it weeks ago during a practice session. Mic must have taken it. The handwriting on the envelope was close enough to his that most people wouldn't question it. Billy could try to defend himself again, explain that the original envelope was sealed months before he ever touched it, but he knew how it would sound. Another public statement. Another defense. Another viral video of Billy claiming innocence while everyone decided whether to believe him. Dianne came into the kitchen and saw his face. She picked up his phone and watched the video without asking. When it finished, she sat down across from him and asked what he was going to do. Billy told her the truth—he didn't know. He could fight back again, post the original photos of the sealed envelope with the date stamps, try to prove the timeline didn't match. Or he could let it go and focus on the competition tomorrow, let his performance speak instead of his words. Dianne reached across the table and took his hand. She said he didn't have to choose alone this time. Billy nodded and realized something had shifted. He wasn't trying to prove himself to the town anymore. He was trying to figure out who he wanted to be when the lies kept coming and the target stayed on his back. The answer didn't come with a plan or a statement. It came with knowing Dianne was sitting across from him, and he didn't have to carry the weight of Mic's games by himself.