cadereagratia | PSL/Meme Continuation

[It's been years. Years spent just as lonely as he'd been when things at all first gone to shit. There'd been some mandated therapy since, but it didn't stick once the legal requirement had worn off. That was...only a few years ago. Lucky of him not to be in prison for attempted murder though. Underage assault charges are very gracious a thing.

[Still, his life hasn't exactly been pleasant since. Passable, but not pleasant. He's still the same greedy, miserable bastard he's always been, but now so very, very alone.

[Seeing Czerny's face in an interview about a new invention had been jarring - a bit embittering. A lot embittering. Abandoned by the one person who'd ever been loyal to him - had been. That's how Whelk feels. But whether or not he can really blame him is up for debate.

[No, he really can't blame him. He does, but he shouldn't. His emotions are - as always - terribly mixed beyond the point of recognition.

[He really shouldn't text him. It's been six years. He'd be entirely pathetic to come groveling back for attention now, so he really shouldn't. He sits there for quite a long time thinking that. And then he does it anyway.]

Has your number changed?

[He didn't have the science smarts. That's what everyone had told him: a good idea means nothing without a big brain to back it up. But they don't know his brain, right? Ideas out the ears, all in crazy colors, so bright and loud sometimes that he can't sleep. And as soon as he got out of the sticks and stopped playing tagalong in someone else's smoke trails, that's when he really showed everyone.

"Mr. Hoverboard" is full of glitches that someone else is responsible for fixing, comes in three bright colors, and has made Noah into the East Coast's luckiest young entrepreneur. It's also made his schedule ridiculous, and it's only due to approximately three illicit substances that he's seeing this text at a normal hour, after nearly twenty-seven hours awake.]

depends
r u someone i like

wait is this ashley

no
dominic

[Barrington Whelk, vibes consistently rancid even after years of therapy, feels his skin prickle at the idea that Czerny has at least two people that he expects could be texting him. Toxic thinking, his old therapist's voice says in his ears. And he feels exceptionally grumpy that he's being ganged up on. Of course Noah would have other friends. His life is wildly successful. Is it because Whelk is no longer a part of it? He can't help but think so.

[Asshole. He feels bitterness twist in his gut. A real friend would be happy for Noah, but Whelk and Noah haven't been friends in years. He thinks idly that a real friend wouldn't run at the first sign of trouble either. Take some accountability. He gets very tired of mandated sessions on how to be a better person still affecting him to this day.]

It's Barry.

Whelk.

[And with that, he expects nothing in return.]

[Oh. Shit.]

oh shit

[Dappled leaves. The crunch of his nose. The tinny music on the radio as he drove away, leaving black streaks pealing out onto the highway. It all bubbles up, and it all gets swallowed back down before Noah can even taste it. Masking, right? What his mom had said he was doing? But that's bullshit, because he's fine. He's been fine the whole time.

His best friend had a psychotic breakdown in the woods, and Noah got away and switched schools, and everything was okay.]

yeah it's still me

what's up

[A text is returned, and it's embarrassing how quickly Whelk dives for his phone. Idiot - that one is directed at himself. He never did get very good at the bit about hating himself. The message itself is shocking even in just that it exists. "What's up?" How is he supposed to answer that? The moment feels watery and surreal, like they're seventeen again and he's about to ask them what they're doing tonight. He doesn't like feeling like things aren't real - he so often feels that way. And he shakes it out of his head a little.

[How is he supposed to answer that? And why did Noah text back anyway? He's not "ashley" or "no, dominic".]

I saw you on TV. Your invention.

[A hoverboard. So very Czerny of him. Grief gnaws in his stomach like empty hunger, but he can't acknowledge that that's what it is - he never got very good at the bit about honoring his feelings either. They are so often incorrect.]

It suits you.

[Maybe on another evening, the reply would have taken longer. Maybe Noah would have backed out of the text, scrolled anxiously through Instagram for awhile, avoided letting his brain settle on the thought for too long. But tonight, comfortably high and sipping something that tastes like watermelon, avoidance hardly occurs to him. It's Barry. What's the harm in chatting?]

oh man
was it the tonight show?

[This is a universe where the player has a working knowledge of late night talk shows, and a rich kid inventor would be an eligible guest.]

i don't even really remember the interview
but jimmy's ppl said i did good

so hey what are u up to these days

[This feels strange.

[Is this really happening? One psychotic break, and suddenly you doubt reality at every step. Why is he responding so easily? Is he messing with him? Surely Czerny hates him. Surely Whelk should hate Czerny. Surely this was a bad idea.

[Why does it feel like things have snapped back to normal like it's seven years ago? It feels like a trap he's falling into. Deluded thinking? Maybe. Not everyone is out to get you, says the nagging little voice in his head that's replaced the old and certainly more dangerous one.]

It was. Why don't you remember? [Too many celebrity interviews to count? He wonders if "Jimmy's people" told "Noah's people" that. There's that bitterness again.

[Answering what he does for a living doesn't help matters.]

I'm teaching Latin at Aglionby. [Private schools are allowed optional background checks, and he had leftover connections and a sympathy card to play. Otherwise he'd probably be working at Subway.]

[There was a time when Noah thought he might hate Barry, in the humid, summer months after the incident, when he still had stitches under buzzed hair, and his parents were moving all his things back to Roanoke in the back of their new SUV. He sat in his room at home, dodged his sisters' uncomfortable questions, and slid in earbuds when the anxiety started gripping his chest, spreading like fungus.

Then he found a new dealer, and he started at a new school where the scar on his temple got him all kinds of action, and he started to find someone new to be. Everything was coming up Noah.]

drugs :P

[Was that such a facet of his personality back when he knew Barry? So much of Aglionby is a blur, and he's pretty sure that's on purpose.]

and oh man that's awesome
i thought you hated teenagers though
even when we were teenagers lol

Edited (same icon) 2021-04-14 14:32 (UTC)

[He had wondered what had happened to Noah following the incident. Most of the months following had been filled with self-pity and being forced to face emotions he’d buried so deeply he didn’t know he had them. That’s what ushered in nightmares of how things could have gone differently. Jail, maybe. It was easier to focus on the personal consequences. But the images that truly haunted him were of a lifeless blonde body and hands covered in blood. It’s still hard to admit that he has regret, and harder still to call it guilt.

[What he has the most of is anger with too many sources to understand where it’s coming from a lot of the time. Cognitive behavioral therapy was supposed to help him break that down. You feel bad because you did something bad. He’d been evaluated as not entirely bankrupt of empathy. But he doesn’t allow himself to admit that someone else’s pain could exacerbate his own. He’d never learned to operate that way before.]

I do and I did. I also do and did like Latin.

It evens out. But your life seems far more interesting than mine.

[Is he being complimentary or self-deprecating? Don’t use self pity to try to get what you want.

[Like hell he even knows what that is.]

How have you been?

[Therapy. Noah would probably benefit from that, and it wasn't for lack of trying on his parents' part. There were interventions, at least three that he can remember through the half-blocked haze, and none of them ever worked in full. The closest he's ever come to mental health treatment was court-mandated AA in college, but it was about as helpful as a wagging finger from a school principal.]

idk mainly it's just busy

[All go, go, go, and yet never enough to fully occupy his mind. He hasn't felt satisfied in- well, longer than he can remember, for sure.]

i mean don't get me wrong
it fucking rules
but i'm p sure i sleep on more planes than i do beds
like i just did a redeye to miami
and tmrw it's richmond for adele's bday

[You do remember his sister's name, don't you Barry?]

[Whelk does wonder for a moment why pop sensation Adele would be having her birthday in Richmond before he remembers, but yes. Czerny's sister. None of his family was ever terribly fond of Barrington.

[Whelk is pretty sure he sleeps on couches more than beds, but that's not really the same. Especially since he doesn't really sleep much period. He's not quite sure what to say in response to Czerny's grandly busy schedule. There's jealousy, certainly, but what's the use in admitting that? It would be humiliating - aside from that, it's probably obvious anyway.]

The last time I took a plane anywhere it was to Chicago for continued education credits.

Total bullshit, but Aglionby paid for it.

[God, he sounds so lame. Why is he still bothering to respond at all? Anything to keep "Czerny" popping up on his notifications, if he were to be honest with himself - he won't be, of course.]

How long will you be in Richmond?

[He could, Whelk thinks with a tightness in his chest, make a stop by Henrietta, if he were so inclined.

[Beyond wishful thinking. Why would he? Not to see Whelk, certainly.]

oh man hahaha
why would anyone want to CONTINUE education

[You're a manufacturing engineer, Noah. Not the super-cool party kid you put on every morning.]

just a night
then i might hit up home
why, you wanna haaaang?

[So casual. So chill.

So completely high, sorry.]

[Things that were not expected: that.

[He stops himself from typing “really?”, but like...really?]

Sure.

[Is this really happening? Why does he feel so weirdly desperate all of a sudden—- Oh, hell. He has been. Now it’s just mixed with some light ~~gay~~ panic.

[It’s cool, Barry. You’ve done this before. It’s just Czerny. You two used to hang out all the time. Just do what you did when you were seventeen.]

I have acid.

PSL/Meme Continuation

party boy millionaire noah ours with @punksdead

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