Chapter Text
[INSERT TAPE HERE.]
"And... your name, please?"
"Laine! Are you recording?"
"Yes, I am! So... how's Playcare been treating you?"
"Well, it's been pretty nice so far! I met a girl named Kendall! She's pretty sweet and she... um... I forgot the word. Oh, she introduced me to her friends!"
"That's wonderful! Don't worry, the curriculum here will be suitable for any language issues. Also, we encourage strong connections."
"Cool! I like it here a lot, the food's better than my last place..."
A short pause and the shuffling of papers rang through the echoing tape filtering in through ancient speakers.
"How do you feel about being adopted?"
Another pause, as if she was thinking of how to answer the question.
"Um. I mean, I like it here, but I've never had a real family. It could be nice..."
"I see. Interesting.”
There’s another pause, filled with the sound of writing scratching on paper.
”Will I be adopted?”
”…Time will tell.”
More silence and writing fills the sound of the tape. Nothing else can be heard.
”Well, thank you for your time today, Laine!" The employee chirped, standing and extending a hand for Laine to shake.
"Er... you're welcome!" Laine responded a beat later, accepting the employee's handshake and then turning away.
The tape ends after the sound of small footsteps recede and the employee reaches over to stop the recording.
Laine walked through the busy streets of Playcare, illuminated by the artificial light far overhead. She knew it all was fake, all made to be an inspiring community for the youth, but sometimes the way things worked felt like such a staged hoax it was hard to believe this wasn’t just a dream. Everywhere she looked, it was so painstakingly filled with Playtime merchandise that she perceived it more as a theme park than a true home.
It wasn’t meant to be her home, anyway. She’d get out of here sometime soon. And Kendall would be coming along to be adopted somewhere nearby—and they would go out to play every day together and never have to be separated again. Not that they were before. Kendall was a new addition to Laine’s small ring of friends. Still, a valuable one.
At least, that was how her childhood was meant to go along based on the fantasy she’d built up over her past few months being here.
Playcare was certainly different compared to any other home she'd been to. It was somewhat crowded down here, and nearly every child was utterly obsessed with a mascot that aimed to be their best friend. That was, except for a select few—including Laine. She had just never felt a connection to any of the colorful characters, and instead disregarded them as what they were. Children's toys. Something to play with if suggested.
Some cared a little too much about them, she believed.
That didn't stop the factory from plastering advertisements around every wall of the building. And of course, no child went without a toy, according to the toy store in the massive dome.
There were even a few cutouts that some newer children still found enticing to go up and press the button too. Laine had gotten bored of those quickly. They all say the same thing every time, anywhere.
Laine glanced up, looking toward where the blue open world should be above her wistfully. The large, open fake-sky above made her secretly wish for the true outdoors. The sun basking down on her skin and warming her when she got cool in the shade. The fake clouds strung to the ceiling above didn't assist the illusion.
Her footsteps clattered against the concrete steps leading up to Home Sweet Home. She opened the large doors and stepped inside, immediately greeted by the victorian-like building and open center room, eventual descending to a long staircase leading far downward. Laine walked further inside, the contrived light sneaking in through the windows high above.
It opened to a wide hallway, and she continued down the pathway she traversed day after day—the one she still managed to get lost on, even months after her arrival. Portraits of other children framed the hallways, including children dressed in makeup or elaborate clothing, holding a Playtime toy. Some had already found homes.
Lucky them.
Jealousy panged her internally when she was reminded that she had not yet been chosen for adoption. True, she hadn't been here very long, but she should've found a family by now. At least, that's what she thought. Perhaps her paperwork was still going through processing, and they couldn't yet approve anything? Surely she wasn't that undesirable. Some children had been down there for years, and Laine was not willing to end up with such a fate.
The green wallpaper passed her by as Laine remained sky-high in her mind, fascinated with the many scenarios that could play out from her future. Eventually, she found the room with bunk beds which she and Kendall resided in. Their bed assignments were far across from each other, nearly directly across their room, but that didn't stop the two from hanging out almost constantly.
"Hey, Laine!" Kendall chirped, drawing her attention from a few feet away. "How did it go?" She sat on the bottom bunk, which she claimed to had quickly taken as her own once she heard the employees would allow her to choose her own out of the two.
Laine made the rest of her way over across the polished, dark wooden floor.
"Hey. It went fine!" Laine responded, flopping down on the bed dramatically, eyes locking on the bottom of the bed above. It belonged to a quiet girl who she rarely spoke to, though Laine had mentioned before her kindness.
Kendall went silent for a short moment, clearly studying Laine's appearance. She could practically feel her eyes in the depths of her face, trying to read her expression. "What did they ask you?"
"Oh. Just if I have been liking my time here, if I want to be adopted. That sort of thing," Laine remarked, turning to face Kendall, recollecting the words she had learned during school the day prior. The interview had been more abrupt than anything. She had presumed it was something that had been created to show interested families—which either meant she had many contenders, or she was once again failing to draw any attention.
"Did they write anything down?" Kendall asked, motioning with one hand for Laine to sit up and spin around. Laine did as she was asked, and focused her attention on her nails. Kendall promptly began braiding her hair. Despite Kendall's tomboy-like interests, clothing, and the somewhat boyish way she held herself, she was good at inherently girl-related activities such as doing hair and makeup. Still, this didn't stop the boys under the dome from poking fun at Kendall's spitfire personality.
Once, she had even taken a jab at one of them in response. The employees had to separate them after the fight escalated, but Kendall had still won. Laine would never forget the boy's bloodied face after Kendall managed to knock out a tooth.
"Um, of course! They were recording too. That's what they do during interviews, silly," Laine giggled.
"Sit still!" Kendall demanded, causing Laine to straighten her posture and unconsciously hold her breath.
"Sorry, sorry," Laine responded quickly before focusing all of her attention on trying to remain as still as possible.
"They asked if you want to be adopted?" Kendall asked, circling back to what she had said previously.
Laine's bright smile returned to her face and her breathing evened out. "Yeah. Maybe that means I'll be adopted soon!"
Kendall shifted behind her. "I hope so. Then we can live in houses right next door to each other and go outside and play all the time. And we wouldn't have to worry about this place anymore."
"You mean you wouldn't have to worry so much anymore. You're the one who's always so nervous. I don't understand why. It's really not so bad here."
Kendall tied the end of Laine's braid and sighed. Laine grasped the braid and slung it over her shoulder so she could see, running her fingers along it gently. "I just... don't know."
A few beats of silence passed as the two girls thought of what to do next.
"Do you wanna play a game?" Laine asked moments later. Kendall's face lit up with newfound excitement.
"Sure! I think I still have those Dogday and Catnap plushes around here somewhere," Kendall replied, flipping around to dig into the small nightstand beside her bed.
Laine waited patiently, her legs swung over the side of the bed and landing against the frame with a small thud as she kicked them.
Groups of children in the room came and went as they move about during their allocated free time, some heading to the Playhouse or Toy Store, others meeting up with friends and having conversations of their own around them. The two girls remained on the bed, using the plushes to tell elaborate stories surrounded by adventure and freedom that seemed ever so out of their reach day after day. Small moments of humor, betrayal, and joy.
"I'm hungry," Kendall complained what seemed to be a lifetime later, rising from the bed.
"Me too!" Laine chirped, following closely behind her as the two began to head down the hallways. The winding labyrinth led them out of the bunk bed portion of the largely underground building, heading into the more cafeteria-like section. It had a high ceiling and was constructed from an already large room which held rows of tables and relatively close circular chairs.
It was always a busy and rushed atmosphere in this area, with children bustling around the room as they chatted with their friends and laughed loudly. Meanwhile, the adults with the long coats and fancy name tags seemed to stalk the corners and shadows of the room. Observing. Always observing. Laine chose to ignore them blissfully. Things always seemed simpler when her mind wasn't dragging by; slogging along the negatives to take time to inspect suspicious.
The pastel blue walls were plastered with posters, inspiring the children to eat healthy so they may grow strong and stay active, each decorated with a fun, Playtime mascot and catchy slogan.
Despite the many possibilities for conversation, only one topic seemed to circle the room. Today was selection day. The day that happened once a week, the day when one child was selected to be adopted by a family.
"They don't care about us," Kendall interrupted her thoughts, shuffling her feet as they approached the line which led to the cafeteria-style food setup, employees handing out a select portion of food to each child. It was almost a school cafeteria, based on the books Laine had read from the in-building library.
Laine eyed her curiously. For someone who wanted to be adopted so badly, she seemed to hate adults with a passion. At least, the adults who worked at Playcare. When Laine asked her why, Kendall always responded with the same statement. "They just seem odd. Something feels off."
Moments later, the girls reached the front of the line.
"Hello!" Laine greeted the employee from the other side of the counter. The woman wore an apron paired and a blue dress adorned with a collar and a skirt that reached her shins. Her brown hair was tucked into a bun under a hairnet to prevent anything from ending up in the food. Her eyes were green and striking. The woman was beautiful—it was shocking to Laine that she could have ended up working in a place such as this. Perhaps she had a passion for helping children.
"Hello. What would you like?" she questioned, robotic and uniform. Based on her bored tone, Laine's previous accusations about the woman's life were wrong.
Laine extended the colorful mascot-themed tray she'd grabbed when she approached the line previously. "Could I have a sandwich, apple, and milk carton, please?"
The woman with the apron and hairnet placed the items on the tray and ushered her along. A smile hadn't flashed across the woman's face during their entire interaction. "Hurry, now. You don't want to be late for the weekly goodbyes."
Laine nodded eagerly and raced forward to catch up with Kendall, who was a few paces ahead.
"See? They wouldn't feed us if they didn't care!" Laine remarked, bumping into her friend's side playfully.
Kendall simply sighed through her nose. "Sure, but... they don't eat."
Laine passed a nervous glance to the adults in long coats standing awkwardly around the room—jotting down notes on ominous clipboards. She typically paid them no mind, assuming they were just making sure the children were behaving.
"They probably have another place where they eat. A break room, or something," Laine offered. The two girls sat down at their usual spot in the cafeteria, directly opposite from each other so they could converse "effectively." At least, that's what the employee in a long coat had instructed them to do when they noticed the two typically sat directly next to each rather than across.
Kendall simply glanced up at her as she took a sip from her Huggy Wuggy themed milk carton and offered an expression which read I'm not so sure. Laine ignored her and focused on her food, taking a bite from her apple, the juice dribbling down her chin a bit—cold against her warmed face as she quickly realized how truly watched she felt. But Kendall was being paranoid. Nothing more.
Kendall stood up slightly from her chair and raised her hand, waving extravagantly and calling, "Hey, Marie!"
The recipient of the wave looked up. Once she met Kendall's eyes, her expression softened, and she waved back. "Hi, Kendall!" Marie managed to greet in return before being swept up by her bustling group of friends.
Kendall had been far more popular than Laine with the other children in the building. Whether this was due to her longer period of time at the location or Laine's slightly unsettling personality, she was unsure.
Laine had been stuck in a foster home, once before. The parents weren't the kindest people—limiting all of the children's meals so they were hardly sufficient, providing no entertainment and leaving the children to instead bicker with each other. This led to a distaste for the adults among all of the foster children, pardon for Laine. She remained loyal for a reason beyond even her, following their orders blindly—even what the other children told her to do. Laine completed nearly everyone's chores, and the adults didn't care who was doing them as long as they were getting done. When her caseworker had finally come to collect her, the foster parents had noted she acted like a dog.
No, they didn't simply note such a thing. They spat it out like the words were bile on their tongues.
Laine had heard it all, but she still didn't mind. They were just trying their best, she was sure. Still, people didn't usually find her to be friendship material.
Except for Kendall and a couple other of their mutual friends—Maddie, Oscar, and Diana, to name a few.
Once they were finished with their meals—which were bland, as if they had been kept in a freezer for a long time rather than made fresh—the two rose to exit the building and head into the center area of the dome instead.
They were greeted by the sharp change in imitation light and the large stone statue in the middle, adorned with the Smiling Critters mascots surrounding it. Laine felt more than indifferent toward the large object. On one hand, she felt creeped out, as if there were small cameras in the eyes, watching them at all times. On the other hand, she loved the creativity that came from whatever artist had been behind the carving of the characters, whom were undeniably adorable.
Still, the other children seemed to create a connection with one of the many mascots. Laine had yet to find one she really liked.
Kendall was one of the more susceptible ones. She held a specific adoration for the colorful arts-and-crafts character on campus—Princess Pom Pom—who didn't yet have a "bigger" version of the character. Laine had pondered for a long time on how they managed to achieve that lifelike quality, and came to the conclusion that they were either extremely advanced robots or humans dressed in costumes.
Laine glanced at the floor, pausing to jump along one of the sketched out games of hopscotch from one of the other kids. Kendall watched her and laughed.
Abrupt feedback passed over the speakers from above, startling both girls. When they realized they had both jumped in surprised, they doubled over in laughter, stopping only to focus on the announcement. A familiar woman's voice filtered in, welcoming and cold all at once. “All children please report to the Playcare street for a special farewell celebration.”
It happened quicker than one could expect. Children rushed out of buildings, bright smiles plastered on their faces. They jumped and grasped their friend's hands tightly in excitement, racing forward toward the center of the dome. Laine, caught up in the energetic excitement and energy of the crowd, grabbed Kendall's hand and pushed through the kids as well. Those who had begun to lose hope for a family straggled behind.
The storefronts surrounded the lot, advertisements and reminders to "eat healthy," and "exercise," still beaming down on them. No one paid attention to those posters at the moment, though. The constant notices faded into the background as a singular topic became a much dire need to be absorbed in. Instead, they focused their attention wholly on the adoption.
A small, makeshift stage had been constructed hastily while the children had been distracted by their midday free time. Laine had always wanted to catch them in the making and setting up of this area, yet she always managed to falter. It was decorated with banners and balloons, all contributed to the humming energy of exhilaration. Two employees, a child, and a microphone were the only other things which rested upon it.
The child stared back out at the crowd, wide-eyed and almost fearful. Strange, considering what a wonderful event he was undergoing. Laine concluded that he must be scared of the crowds.
That was the only reasonable explanation, really.
The female employee cleared her throat and stepped forward.
"Hello, everyone!" she began, making an elaborate gesture with her hands toward the crowd.
Some children cheered, others bit their tongues. Most of them were aware they weren't meant to speak when an employee was—which were instructions that were specifically given upon arrival—but no employee ever actually punished them for disobeying this order in a crowd. Rather, they didn't pay much direct mind toward it, other than the scratching of notes and pinpointing of pictures.
Of course, if this was a more direct conversation, the children who were interrupting the hired hand would end up with a hand slapped across their faces. That was the more drastic punishment for such an action, like if you had done something to really piss them off.
“At Playcare, we believe every child deserves a family. Today we, as you may know, have gathered to celebrate another wonderful adoption!" The woman continued. Laine's eyes drew to the young boy standing on the stage. He still had hardly moved since he stepped up there, apart from his slight trembling. He had dirty blonde hair and wore a simple t-shirt that his fingers tugged on nervously and shorts—nothing out of the ordinary, apart from his rather intellectual behavior. Laine had spoken to him before, and he seemed fairly smart. No wonder he had been selected for adoption.
Laine snapped back to reality as she realized the crowd around her had begun to clap once again. Her hands collided in unison as well, only a few seconds too late from the other's cue.
"Remember, children, keep up the good work and it soon might be you on this stage!" The male employee leaned toward the microphone to announce, his voice cheerful and bubbly, like every other employee children interacted with.
Laine, Kendall, and the rest of the crowd roared at that. A small flicker of hope sparked in Laine's chest at his words. Her hands stung as they pounded together with the fuel of inspiration and want. A home. A family. A goodbye ceremony. All for her. In a world which had offered her practically nothing previously, Playcare seemed daringly open for opportunities.
She didn't notice that Kendall had backed up slightly, as if hiding from the scene before her, her applause coming slowly and hesitantly. Laine didn't notice that her friend wasn't actually watching the scene before them. Instead, her eyes were locked on the employees watching from the observation decks above.
"Alright, Christopher, would you like to say goodbye?" The woman prompted, squatting down slightly so she could reach the nervous boy's height with better ease.
The boy didn't respond for a long moment. The woman's lips stretched into a comforting smile and she gestured toward the crowd with a sideways nod of her head.
He swallowed deeply, nodded in response and offered only a small wave toward the crowd.
"Come on, everyone! Say goodbye!" The male employee stepped forward, raising his hand to wave goodbye in response.
"Bye!" and other variations of parting phrases chorused through the crowd which slowly dissolved into excited cheers.
The woman then crouched down and whispered something in the boy's ear. His shoulders suddenly squared, his expression softened, and he nodded. Laine couldn't hear what the woman had said from where she stood, but whatever she did, it had changed the boy's entire demeanor. The female employee stood, leaning toward the microphone.
"Alright. Goodbye everyone!" The woman wished farewell for the last time, leaving the children to give their final goodbyes.
She placed her hand on the boy's back and guided him away from the crowd. They didn't head toward any of the courtyard entrances that the children were aware of. Rather, they headed toward one of the doors marked only for staff.
The male employee stayed behind to fold up the microphone and to dislodge the stage. Eventually, the crowd dispersed, cheers fading into the usual chatter under the pseudo sky.
Laine and Kendall remained on the field constructed from plastic grass at the base of the statue.