⚠️SEVENTY-ONE: THANK YOU⚠️

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That night, you felt yourself anxiously awaiting the moment everyone gathered for mealtime.

You weren't a stranger to a bit of tussle, but seeing the guys fight amongst themselves made you feel sick. After all, each other was all any of you really had. If the group broke up now, at the arguably most important point to stay together, what would it all have been for?

And what would be the point of going on?

You didn't want to be alone in that Hell that had become the outside, and you couldn't bear the thought of one of your friends out there either. But the fact you were even thinking about it had you bouncing your knee anxiously.

The first to appear was Eugene, peeking around the corner of the dining room entrance like he expected to see a full-blown fist fight. Instead he only saw you.

"Hi, Eugene," you greeted, trying your best to seem friendly despite the grim situation.

Eugene didn't reply, coming over to sit at the table, his mask covering most of his face. You had learned by now this was Eugene's way of protecting himself whenever he felt uncomfortable. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, until you broke it by tapping on the table in thought.

"How have you been feeling lately?" you asked him, and he pulled down his mask with a single finger to reply, but immediately stopping. His eyes went to the door behind you, and you followed his gaze, spotting Zion standing there.

He didn't say anything either, coming over and drawing out a chair more loudly than necessary, plopping down in it and crossing his arms.

To be honest, you hadn't expected him to show up at all.

You let yourself feel a bit hopeful at this. You almost felt like cheering when Harry appeared, giving everyone a short look before keeping his head pointed down, taking one of the open seats.

While they were all trying their best to seem nonchalant in their own way, you could tell - everyone was tense.

Zion was glaring at the curtained window, leaning back like he couldn't care less, yet his eyes told a different story. Eugene was twiddling his fingers, looking almost bored, but you knew his fidgety habit came from nervousness. Harry just stared down at the wooden dining table, completely still, his expression not quite comprehensible.

It felt like everyone in the room held their breath when a shuffle of feet was heard at the dining room door. Ethan and Lawrence appeared, both of them taking seats without hesitation, almost as if they didn't realize the thick atmosphere, but there was no way to miss it.

Before, times like now were perfect for having meetings. Lawrence would come up with a clever plan on the fly, sometimes with the help of Sue, and all of the group's troubles would eventually fade away until everyone was in good spirits again.

Things were so, so different now.

"Maybe you guys are on a diet I don't know about, but I'm not," Eugene said, finally slicing the stiff tension with his usual stubborn tone. You had never been more grateful to hear it. "I'm starving. Can we eat now?"

"I second that," Zion pitched in, tensing his jaw, and you noticed the bruise that had begun to bloom there. "Let's eat. Any objections?"

Harry finally looked up, glancing at everyone around the table nervously. "No... not from me, at least," he said, and you knew what he was alluding to.

"None here," Ethan said, his arm resting against the back of his chair, looking ready to feast as always.

The room fell silent, and while no one directly looked at him, everyone's attention was on Lawrence. It always seemed impossible to guess what he was going to do next, especially in a moment like this.

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