Elizabeth stirred awake to the sounds of Masina climbing over the chairs towards the back of the cinema. She took her hands out of Gowan's and groggily made her way up the aisle. "Oi! What're you doing?" she whispered.

"Well I can't bloody change my tampon with everyone watching, aye?"

Elizabeth blinked, letting her brain catch up. "Fair."

"Can you bring the bucket up? Someone's gotta use it eventually, and I don't wanna watch that." Masina was looking up at the fuzzy, soundproofed walls.

Elizabeth jogged back down to retrieve the unused, makeshift bathroom supplies and returned to the top corner of the room with a bucket, some toilet paper, and a bag that was once packaging for one of the quilts they had liberated from The Home Store. "How are you planning to put the blankets up?"

Masina pointed above their heads to a broken broom that she had wedged at a diagonal angle into the corner. "I belted it in as much as I could. This velcro stuff they made the walls out of is a bit rubbish but I don't think using safety pins from the first aid kit would be any better. I don't think it'd hold the weight. I just want privacy and I'm sure others do too, even if it doesn't do anything to mask the sounds." She took one of the cotton sheets and gave Elizabeth the other end as they tried to delicately place it over the rod.

"Or the smells." Elizabeth added. "I hope they don't mind doing their business in the dark."

"How many dudes do we have in here? If we don't designate a pee corner now, we'll end up with entire walls. That'd be the real hell on earth." Masina placed the bucket down in front of the seats that folded upwards when not in use. She patted the arm rest. "See, we've got a little bit of luxury. Makes hovering a breeze."

The snickering began to wake up the other group who were still sleeping at the base of the theatre on the flat ground. It was easy to tell because Emilio's snores were no longer permeating the camp.

"Hey! Sisterhood of the traveling pants! Do you mind? Some of us want to sleep through the rapture, you know." Emilio was awake, and he was going to make sure it was everyone's problem.

"Dude, what the fuck is your problem?" Donovan had propped himself up on his elbows. He looked around and remembered where he was, slumping back down. "Fuck." he mumbled. He glanced upwards, squinting to see the women setting up the curtain at the very back of the theatre. "Do you guys know how long we were out?"

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"I bet Tim Burton does." Emilio gestured over to Victor, who had apparently not slept at all.

"Why would I know?"

"You know about the candles." Emilio shrugged. "You keep bugging us to get a bible and you keep wanting us to leave safety to risk getting eaten by god-knows-what. You look like you probably carry one of them old pocket watches."

Victor patted down his pockets. "Unless you want to start trying to break into jewellery stores and hope one of them has a wind-up watch, we've got to ride this out."

Donovan stood up and started pacing. "And what if we don't?" He gestured to the curtain. "What if we end up stuck with this bucket forever? What if the sun never rises? How will we know if you're not just playing us because you're a sick fuck opportunist that decided that stabbing my boyf- My bro was a good idea for shits and giggles?"

Amy threw her fist against the coarse wall. "You just fucking got here. You didn't see an old man get torn apart by the universe. What the fuck do you know?"

Donovan got louder. "Well, for one thing, I think I fucking know where the pain killers are going. I heard rustling last night and there aren't many blonde chicks rifling around the medicine supplies, are there?"

"I was checking on tampon supplies you wanker. You're like, what? 17? 18? I wouldn't expect you to know how women work but I wouldn't fucking push it with your conspiracy bullshit." She stormed up to Masina and Elizabeth and aggressively slammed the cache of pads and tampons just to the outside of the makeshift bathroom. She looked at Elizabeth. "Get some hand sanitiser up here too if you know what's good for us."

Their heads turned back to Donovan, who was still ranting. "So the junkie bitch also grabbed a handful of tampons while she was grabbing Mat's medicine too? Shit cover story, bro."

Like a bat out of hell, Emilio grabbed Donovan by the scruff of his shirt. "What the fuck did you just call my wife?"

He smiled, looking directly into Emilio's eyes. "I called your wife a junkie bitch."

"I suggest you back the fuck off."

The two were now standing chest to chest. Matthew was calling to Donovan weakly from the floor.

"Or what? You'll hit me? Yeah, that's going to go down super well on judgement day. I'll say it the fuck again: Junkie bitch. Junkie bitch. Junkie b-"

A thick, tattooed arm flung Donovan to the floor. Emilio's voice was lower now. "Do you want to try again?"

"Fuck off!" From the floor, Donovan looked around helplessly as the rest of the group looked on.

Punctuated with a chuckle, Emilio looked downward. "Better get your boyfriend to kiss it better."

Heavy breathing could be heard as Donovan pulled himself off the floor, struggling as his legs betrayed him. He touched his lip to feel the sting where his dirty hands were intruding upon the new, bloody slit that Emilio had left him. It was his father all over again. He could feel the heat inside him. "He's not my fucking boyfriend." He balled up his fist. "Just shut the fuck up, or I'll..."

Towering over him, Emilio squared up once more. "Or you'll what?"

Donovan looked around. No one was coming to help him. It was the same story that played out every other day in his life. He felt like he was floating, but like the walls were caving in. He couldn't take it. He ran. He flung the doors open and he ran.

Nobody followed him.