entranceway | Entry #88

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Entry #88

[The video feed clicks on to feature an unassuming shot of the crisp gray sky, accompanied by the restless crunching of footsteps drawing closer. Abruptly, someone picks up the thing and spins it around with a faint flare of static that's gone as quickly as it flickered up.

There is, briefly, a face visible on the screen, dark hair and dark eyes and brows knit together in an expression puzzlement and concern. Then the feed flips around again and starts panning around the area in a slow sweep, handled in the same way someone might a handheld camera. It's both too familiar and too surreal, and he fumbles at the last second, dropping the angle so the network instead gets a lovely view of scuffed sneakers crunching through a patina of fallen leaves.]

So seasonal change sure is a thing. Like, really a thing. Place doesn't mess around.

[His tone is dry, the words drawn out with a slow, weary indolence. He doesn't seem to realize he's actively broadcasting at the moment. He's just taking video in the same way - how Jay would, and even now the memory is painful and sends a pang of regret thrumming all the way to his bones. It's just such an easy, obvious reflex. Practically instinctive.

The crunching of his footsteps halts abruptly as something seems to occur to him.]

So I can post now instead of reply, is that it? Wait, why now? What makes this so -

[The feed snaps out, evidently by mistake.]

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Nah, it's better like that. Didn't make any friends I'd want anyone to meet.

[Sweeping generalizations like that are easier. Easier than thinking about Jay and who he might've been prior to everything, easier than thinking about how his life had been so unremarkable and shitty and forgettable that he'd had no hesitations in hurling himself headfirst at the thing that would kill him.]

She seemed all right. "Corny" isn't so bad.

[Better than "pretentious".]

[Chloe looks at Tim thoughtfully through the cloud of smoke she had just exhaled and grins.]

Yeah, corny is alright.

[She mutters.]

Adorable even.

[She clears her throat and makes her voice louder again.]

Okay, so no friends. What about family? Any nagging parents or obnoxious little brothers?

["Adorable, even." He can't wholly muzzle the pang of envy that jars his chest. Yeah, it sounds like it'd be fantastic to have someone like that you know and trust and can care about completely without fearing that they're just - just pretending, or just going through those motions because you have something they want.

Sounds nice.

His breath almost catches and his distaste almost shows on his face, but he makes a show of containing it.

What about family? Yeah, what about family? Well gee, he'd sure love to know. His dad was a non-entity for as long as he could remember. His mom - he figured out she wasn't coming back after something like the fourth or fifth time she skipped out on visiting him at the hospital. If she ever had any other children, he never knew about them. No room for freaks in her perfect world.]

Nah. [But his tone is tired and easy as he shrugs, noncommittal.] Just me, for most of it.

[For a while, Chloe abruptly stops smoking. She looks at Tim carefully, almost certain she sees his expression change, but the moment passes, and she's sure she just imagined it. Nevertheless, Chloe doesn't stop looking at Tim. She barely knows this dude but one thing's for sure: at one point in their lives, they were both alone. Chloe sort of got passed that stage, thanks to Rachel, then Max. But something tells her Tim never recovered.

Her expression softens but she quickly shrugs it off, uncomfortable to let Tim see her mushy side. Good thing their faces are both wrapped in shadows.

Chloe resumes smoking.]

I hear ya, dude. Having to deal with shit on your own? That was me for more than 5 years up until a few months ago.

Live on your own?

[That's not so weird, he supposes, even if it feels like everyone here's got someone - a friend, a family member, someone from home. If someone from his home actually did up and appear one day, he's got no clue what he'd do with it. Run away screaming, probably. And that's an optimistic estimate.

He doesn't wanna think about it.]

[Chloe takes a long drag, then looks up and exhales, creating a moderately big cloud of smoke above them. She thinks back to the 5 years after William died, after Max moved to Seattle. An uneasy feeling settles in her stomach. She absolutely dreads remembering those moments in her life... and becomes equally terrified of the possibility that those shitty things might happen to her again.]

Uh, not exactly. I mean, I had my mom and the step-douche- dad--

[Jeez, I'm still not used to calling David my stepdad.]

But it's not like I hung out with them 24/7. I actually made sure that we almost never see each other. And I didn't exactly have a long list of people who were dying to be friends with me. Getting kicked out of school can do that to you.

[He almost snorts at that. Step-douche. He can only begin to guess what the relationship might be there.]

Well, I guess we got that in common.

[He doesn't specify what - mostly 'cause he means "all of it." And yes, all of it, with the exception of the getting kicked out of school bit. For him it was a medical file several inches thick, a dour demeanor, and several rumors about the "loonybin" he apparently hailed from. Growing up in a hospital did his social life no favors when he was finally released into the wild.]

Might as well have lived on my own, anyway.

[Chloe raises an eyebrow at Tim.]

Did you get kicked out of school too?

[Then she laughs.]

'Cause then we'd be hella cliches-- two school drop-outs, smoking and bitching about life in some dark, shady corner.

Not really. Just wasn't much for it.

[His mouth twists wryly. It's not quite a smile, but it's about as close as someone like him can get to it.]

Kinda had a weird time growing up. No one wants to be friends with a crazy.

[He makes a circular gesture with one finger, level with his temple - the universal symbol for "off his goddamn rocker." More complicated than that, sure, but as far as everyone else is concerned? He's just some weird kid with a list of mental health issues longer than anyone's got time for.]

Re-ea-allyyyyyy?

[Chloe stretches the word, intrigued by Tim's answer.]

Crazy how?

[He slips the bottle of pills from his pocket and gives it a little shake. It rattles with a satisfying solidity. In his experience, it's easier to just go and get this kinda thing over with. People are gonna find out anyway. It's better if they make their distaste for him known at the outset.]

You know that weird kid who had fits in the middle of class?

[Chloe eyes the bottle before nodding. She doesn't smile or laugh at Tim's description. Kids who get fits in class usually end up being bullied by stupid asses who think it's hilarious to suddenly get panic attacks in the middle of class. And Chloe hates those asshole bullies. Granted, she may be an asshole herself. But she's definitely no bully. There's a difference.]

Yeah, I get it.

[She points at the bottle with her cigarette.]

So, what's wrong with you?

That is the big question.

[He says it with a faux grandiose air, like it's not a blight on his life, slips the bottle back into his pocket. Better to make this seem less bizarre, less strange and terrifying, than it really is. He has to. He has to make this work.

He can do that.]

Epilepsy, basically.

[Only instead of flashing lights, he gets doubled over by the presence of the imaginary friend that, until fairly recently, he was told repeatedly didn't actually exist.]

[Chloe cocks her head to one side, quite interested to learn more.]

Epilepsy, huh?

[She takes another drag of her cigarette and exhales before continuing, oblivious to the fact that Tim might not be that comfortable discussing his condition to a complete stranger. As if Chloe was ever tactful. Harhar.]

How often do you get fits?

Not very, if I take my meds.

[Well, that's a dirty lie and he knows it. He's long since gotten over the fact that people are gonna ask rude questions. "Fits," yeah. Sounds familiar. Gotten the question dozens of times.]

And I hear this place restocks pretty much anything you need, so that's - y'know, that's nice.

Yeah, it does. Includiiiing--

[Chloe holds up the cigarette in her hands and grins at Tim.]

Boxes and boxes of cigarettes. Isn't that fucking awesome?

[A pause, followed by another long drag.]

That's probably the best thing I like about this place. Unlimited sticks and booze.

[Chloe laughs.]

Although, being with Max again is friggin' cool too.

[He's lived in worse places, he decides wryly. At least he doesn't have to pay for the meds or the cigarettes, or work overtime just to afford the rent for his place. So that's a plus. They're in a bullshit fantasy-world where everything defies logic, but hey - free cigs. So that's something.

He doesn't laugh, but he gets about as close as he can to it, which is a faint snort as he finishes his cigarette and grinds the heel out underfoot.]

Could be worse, I guess.

Definitely.

[She takes one last drag, before tossing the cigarette butt. Without the lit cigarette, the cold starts creeping into her skin again. Chloe rubs her hands together, the light in her hands shaking as she does.

She nods at Tim. It's been pretty cool that she got to smoke with someone here in Wonderland. First time that's ever happened. And hopefully it won't be the last.]

Well, thanks for the smoke but I'll probably head back now. Don't think I can stand the cold any longer.

[Chloe lets out a quick laugh.]

So much for exploring the woods but I can probably do that another day, when it's not hella freezing out here.

[She takes a few steps forward, then looks back at Tim, her face hidden in the shadows.]

You coming?

[He seems to consider for a moment, dithering as he glances over his shoulder at the shadows formed by the tree trunks, shoves his hands in his pockets, and wish he'd stayed out here alone. She seems like a decent enough person, or someone he could be friends with, and that just makes it exponentially worse, 'cause that just means he's inflicting himself on her for kicks.

She deserves better than that.

Then he turns back to her, and shrugs, cutting off that line of thought before it can terminate anywhere he doesn't wanna think about.]

Sure. Might as well.

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Entry #88

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been busy but now im back; i backtag sooo much i hope you dont mind!!!

nah no problem, i backtag indefinitely

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