Alright, I'm trying it out!

SHAPER- 

Chapter 1

    Whill breathed in the sawdust-heavy air of the workshop. It was an early morning, but then again, wasn't it always an early morning? He picked up his gloves from the desk- the desk he had finished with- with---- He shook his head, trying to block out those thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. He put on the gloves, turning towards the back of the shop. 

    Whill had always been a scrawny boy, and even at 17, he was still shorter than most kids his age. That didn’t matter though, because he didn’t know them all too well. He yanked the sheet off of his creation. The thing he had worked on for the last year. It was a complex structure of wood planks, nails, and joints, made for the purpose of… well, Whill wasn’t sure what it was supposed to do yet. It just felt right. He grabbed the saw and got to work.

    The back door creaked open. The sound was so soft, so insignificant that anyone else would have just ignored it. But Whill wasn’t anyone else. 

    “Em, you could have knocked rather than sneaking in. It’s polite.” He rasped, turning towards the sound. 

    The girl, Em, stood in the doorway. She froze. “Again, Elias? How’d you hear me?” She had red hair, the color of burnt maple leaves, and had a lanky figure. She was in the rift below Whill, but she still was half a foot taller than him. “Why do you talk like that, anyways? It makes you sound old.”

    “This is my normal voice.” He said, glaring, “Also, don’t call me by my Luxe. My name is Whill.” He turned to go back to his carpentry, but she spoke again. 

“Oh, quit being so sour. You haven’t left the shop since Jax-” She stopped as Whill cut her off.

“This is not about my brother! I’m not here because he Snapped. I don’t care what it looks like!” Tears stung at Whill’s eyes, but Em couldn’t see them because he was turned away. 

It wasn’t about Jax. He wasn’t grieving. He looked back at the desk that they had made, all those years ago. Whill wanted to make another desk. He wanted to throw that piece-- that piece of garbage out.

It wasn’t about Jax’s Snap. 

"It's -n-not about- J-Jax" He stuttered, but the tears were already flowing.