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 Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 7:22 pm
((Backdated Rp))
They were passing cautious texts back and forth since Ladon saw Paris at Chris' apartment. It was...very strained talk, but soon it was easy to just text simple responses, and despite how late it was, Ladon still found Paris writing back. He hoped that, what with a new boyfriend, he was just unable to sleep and not walking the streets. Especially during the winter storms. Destiny City was almost permantely covered in snow these days, which only made everyone feel more in the spirit. What it caused Ladon to feel was that he needed a new heater, and he soon bought a plug in heater to keep instead of relying on the beat up pile of pipes in his apartment. It kept his place warm, bearable, and seeing as the weather meant he didnt' do much outdoors these days aside from patrolling, he also bough a small, beat up TV that sat on a small stand. It worked, was in color, and had a remote. That's all he needed, and with Christmas specials playing all month, soon their texts started to ask what the other was doing for the holidays.
Ladon realized that, like Halloween and Thanksgiving, he would be alone again,but this holiday would be the most crushing to him. He didn't lie that he had nothing planned, and while Paris did offer for him to come over for Christmas, it was such a a deeply personal, family holiday that he felt wrong taking Paris away from his family during that day. Christmas Eve however was still on the table, and on that day, Ladon awaited Paris to show up, texting him to be careful and to dress warmly.
He made sure the apartment was warm but not to warm. He also made cookie dough so they could make cookies if they felt like it. There was a small, battery powered tree sitting on the table, but no presents. That didn't mean he didn't have any. Zac had actually given him a small, plush wolf, and he got a very ugly sweater during the Negaverse Christmas Party. There was a present for Paris, which he had kept in his bedroom until it was time. Classic Rudolph in stop-motion merriment was playing on the TV.
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 7:57 pm
Paris was in a very good mood.
A very, very good mood.
Usually when it became unbearably cold and the snows started to fall, he could be depended upon to become as icy and bitter as the air around him. He had last year. In fact, at this time last year he distinctly remembered turning into an angry, frustrated, hateful person due to his discovery of magical terrorists he had previously assumed were nothing more than a couple of overly ambitious gangs. The world suddenly turning upside-down had a way of doing that to a person.
This time, however, it had turned around in a completely different way, and he found himself feeling quite the opposite set of emotions than what had plagued him last year.
He felt extremely giddy. He kept giggling about nothing in particular and smiling at random moments for absolutely no reason whatsoever. It was weird. He knew it was weird. He couldn’t remember ever quite acting like this before. He probably would have had himself admitted if he’d acted this way a year ago.
But he wasn’t so concerned about it now, because he and Chris were back together—well, sort of—and everything seemed as if it were falling into place so perfectly.
Paris practically skipped up the stairs to Ladon’s apartment, carrying a couple of bags with him. He had a feeling it was going to be a good night. He’d make it a good night, if he had to. He was totally serious about this whole ‘positive thinking’ thing he’d been trying out over the last couple of months. Clearly Ladon inviting him over meant things were okay with them again. Another good thing to add to his list of good situations, and he was going to make the most of it if it killed him.
And so it was that he arrived at Ladon’s door, a bit pink in the cheeks from the cold, but smiling brightly all the same. He almost barged right in—as he used to—but thought better of it at the last second and decided to announce his presence instead.
“Lady~!” he practically sang. “Lady, open the door~!”
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 8:18 pm
It was terrible.
It was horrible.
He actually MISSED being called Lady.
Ladon was left staring at the door for a good while before he snapped out of that surprise, and called out. "Coming!" He undid his apron and set it on the counter, moving over to the door and righting off the 4 locks he had before he opened the door, which stuck a bit as he pulled it wide enough for Paris to come through. He didn't expect for him to groceries, and was a little ashamed that he had only bought the barest essentials for dinner. As of late, his fridge's contents had becoming a lot sadder these days when he barely cooked for himself, going out to eat more than cooking. With plenty of things he didnt' want to think about and a need to sleep deeply, he usually worked himself to exhaustion and then popped a sleeping pill just to get by, and that meant he barely had energy to cook. That and....it was pathetically lonely in his apartment, cooking and eating for one. At least when he was home, despite cooking and eating alone, he knew his mother would eventually come home and he could expect a few meals with someone. He didn't get how anyone could like the bachelor life. It was DEPRESSING!
And maybe that was what greased the wheels a bit for Ladon to forgive the blonde just a bit more and let him finally come over - like old times. Still, it was strange having not seen him in such a long time, and he let the boy in, shutting the door behind him. "Hello, Paris. Happy Christmas Eve." How long had it been? Months clearly. It felt like a year. Adjusting his sweater, the color of dark light with white snowflakes across the front, Ladon shut and locked the door. "Do you need any help?" He asked, offering to take a bag. "Was the trip here okay? It didn't look like anyone has been going out to shovel any sidewalks." Or even bother paving a lot of the streets. It was still coming down.
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 8:53 pm
Paris smiled all the more brightly as he was let inside, chirping a happy “Merry Christmas Eve!” as he allowed Ladon to take one of the bags from him. Since he’d last seen him, Paris had had a feeling Ladon was letting himself waste away in his apartment—which Paris thought was horribly sad and had to stop. It would if he had anything to say about it, even if it meant he had to make a nuisance of himself and insist upon bringing over mountains of food at random intervals.
Now that Ladon was consenting to see him again, he took the opportunity to bring just a few things over until he was able to fully assess the situation—some leftover pasta from the previous night that Ladon could warm up in the microwave whenever he felt like eating it, some muffins he’d baked that morning, plus some things he’d picked up at the grocery store before they closed for the evening, deli meats and sub rolls and a couple of different juices in case Ladon was running low on drinks.
He had a present with him too, of course, but that bag he kept to himself.
“The walk was fine. A little slushy and icy at points, but I was careful,” he assured him, leaning over to tug off his snow boots, which he placed neatly by the door, figuring it would be bad if he were to track snow inside. He took his heavy coat, scarf, and gloves off, too.
For a moment, he wondered if he should have worn something a little more festive, having donned a pair of dark leggings and a pink sweater-dress, but he satisfied himself with the thought that he just wanted to have fun and be comfortable. Besides, he told himself, pink was just a lighter form of red anyways.
“There’s some food in there for you to eat whenever. I figured I’d bring some over since Dad and I barely ever eat it all. Seriously, if you ever need anything, let me know. I do all the cooking at home, and bringing over leftovers or even making extra wouldn’t be a big deal at all. I bake stuff for Chris all the time,” he revealed, releasing an odd sort of giggle, before continuing, “You look kind of thin anyway. I mean, comparatively speaking.”
Paris put a damper on his giddiness to eye Ladon critically—and with some concern—taking a few moments to appraise him.
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 9:42 pm
Ladon helped with the groceries, pulling out the contents of the bags that Paris let him take and putting them into the fridge. He saw the extra, and looked over them a moment, well aware what was going on. Unless Paris planned to stay a while, he knew this wasn't for the blonde, but placed him in the fridge, making sure to use his body to hide the fridge a little. Before Paris arrived, he had cleaned out hsi fridge to make sure all expired foods were out - which left little in it. To fatten it up, he added a few vegetables, some drinks, and what he would make for Christmas Eve dinner (to then be heated up for Christmas dinner). This was a small pack of chicken that was now roasting in the oven, and in the pots were corn, mash potatoes, green beans, and gravy. The cookies were for later. It felt.....nice to cook again. He missed it, but despite playing music, he remembered why he didn't miss it all that much. He had no one to cook for, which took a great deal of the fun out of it. He couldn't see anyone enjoy it or ask how it was. It was just him. Just him.
"Oh, I'm good. I'm probably going to be eating leftovers for a while after all." Holiday traditions, and in the end, it would feed him for a week which probably would be eating the best he had in a while - at least at home.
He worked to place everything away, and then placed the bags under the sink where he used them again for trash bags and the like, always concerned about recycling. "I decided just to start dinner since I'm sure you'd be hungry and it was going to take a while. It still has some time to go." He pointed out,
While Paris appraised him, Ladon looked his friend over. "You look better." He pointed out. Sure, still in girl clothes, but at least he looked more - was the word...glowing? He seemed more energetic, and the smile was hard to miss. He wondered if it was just the season, but the mention of Chris twisted his stomach. Partly out of guilt for knowing that Paris had been lying to the boy, and in turn relating to the kid yet not wanting to bring it up and starting a fight, and another part was - - jealousy. He felt himself grow bitter at seeing his friend, a once love skeptic, be happy in a nice relationship. It burned him up, and he hated himself for it.
He should be happy for his friend, and he scolded himself mentally for feeling anything otherwise.
As for Paris' assessment, there wasn't much to look at. Despite his sweater, Ladon was skinner than before, though seemed to be developing a firm set of muscles. Nothing close to body building, but more of the physique of someone who jogged a lot. Still, despite the sign of exercise, he seemed a bit too thin around the arms and ribs. His complexion was slightly paler than normal, as if he didn't go out in the sun much, and there was a slight sign of bags under his eyes. His hair was shorter, and in the most direct light, there was a faint discoloration, a lightness around his ear and neck in a strange shape on his skin. "I bought a heater since the old one either gets too hot or doesn't work. This way I can control it." Ladon pointed out, looking for something to talk about and feeling awkward for it. "Do you...want anything to drink? I have bottled water, juice, and soda, or if you want, I can make tea or coffee."
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 10:21 pm
He didn’t allow himself to be sidetracked by the comment about his appearance. Paris would have liked to gush about how much better he was feeling and all the reasons for it—sorting his life out, and dancing, and the suddenness of being with Chris again—but it would feel a lot like bragging, and while he wouldn’t have second guessed bragging had he been talking to anyone else, the fact that Ladon looked so sad and lonely put an end to it before the stream of gushing comments could even begin.
“Tea would actually be great,” he decided. He stopped scrutinizing him so closely as he followed Ladon further into the small apartment and allowed himself to return to smiling. Not that he didn’t intend to harass Ladon about how thin and unhealthy he looked. Because he totally did. He just intended to do it in a happy, affectionate sort of way.
If he could manage it without being insanely obvious.
“Decaf, if you have it. Caffeine is bad for you~” he pointed out in a sing-song voice. Now that Ladon had mentioned the beverage, he wondered if his friend had been living off of a diet that mostly consisted of coffee. He almost cringed at the thought. If that was the case, he was in serious need of an intervention.
“You know what? I should get you some protein powder. That way if you, uh… don’t have time to eat or something,” he decided to say, not wanting to accuse him of not eating at all in case there were other reasons for the skinny frame, “you’re at least getting all the protein you need for healthy bones and muscles. More energy, too. You can mix it with shakes or smoothies or something. Do you have a blender? I have one at home I use. If you don’t, I bet WalMart has some for, like, twenty bucks, or you could probably even find a super cheap one at the Good Will. I’ve been drinking a lot of them since I’ve been dancing in shows. I’ll have to make sure Chris is getting enough protein, too, with baseball season coming up in a few months.”
He said it as an afterthought and winced when he did so. Even though he would absolutely love to talk about the latest developments in his love-life—and he was only now beginning to think that he could actually call it that—he didn’t want to seem as if he were trying to rub it in. Because he wasn’t. Not at all. Maybe he would have before, months ago, but things were a little different now. He thought he’d managed to do a little growing up since then. He hoped the important people in his life would see that.
“Dinner smells good,” he tried. “We should get together and cook sometimes. Or have baking parties.”
It was an innocent enough suggestion, but he had more than one motive—partly as a way of being able to make sure Ladon actually was eating (and eating more than crap, too) but also so they could spend more time together, which he thought they’d been sorely lacking.
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Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2012 10:53 pm
Ladon smiled to himself, only because he found it funny to think he was being told caffeine was bad for you. It sounded like something he would say, and Paris would wave off. Now it seemed the tables were turned. He really did feel like everything was in reverse. Where Ladon had been the perky, love-struck, teenager talking about his health, lecturing his friend, and full of energy, his life on track, Paris now had those elements in his life. He wondered if Paris had been the bitter skeptic back then as Ladon felt like now, but he tried to force himself to see things more optimistically through his gray cloud.
He plugged in an electric kettle, filled it from a filtered water pitcher, and turned it on. "The only decaf tea I have is called Warm Comforts. I think it's camomile." Ladon called back, having only used the decaf tea when he didn't want to take a pill to sleep and hoped exhaustion and a cup of something warm would do the trip. It sometimes worked, but often worked too well and resulted in him passing out on the couch.
As Paris continued, he took two mugs from the cabinet, and also took out a cup of caffeinated tea for himself, needing something to keep his more perky to match Paris' brimming energy. He was a talker, but Paris always had been, and he enjoyed hearing someone's voice in his apartment aside from the TV or his neighbors arguing through the ceiling. "You're dancing in shows. That's great. Congrats. How is it going?" He avoided the topic of Chris, not knowing if he should bring up if Paris finally did tell him he was a guy. Instead, he let it pass by, feeling that, as it seemed it was going, Paris would bring him up again anyways. There would be chances if he felt bolder in the future. He also avoided talk of protein drinks and a blender. It didn't seem important, and he knew he wouldn't bother with getting the ingredients and then making it. He could pick those up if need be from the store. If he kept any fruit or milk in his fridge, it would go bad before most of it got used. It was a waste.
"I take vitamins in the morning. I usually just pick up something to eat or drink when I get to the store. It's only me here, so I don't really need to stock up on much. I make things as I go, but I'll keep the in mind. If you want to have a cooking party, I'd be happy to do that. I haven't cooked in a while. Nothing grand really." Actually, nothing much at all. His stove had been colder than his apartment these days. "It's nice to cook this dinner though. You can take leftovers home with you - unless you think you'll have too much at home already. I do have cookie dough ready if you want fresh cookies later. I didn't want to buy any from the store. They always taste funny." Always too sweet, and never warm.
The kettle whistled before turning itself off, and Ladon turned to pour their cups, popping one bag in each, before handing a mug to Paris. "The sugar is right here, and there is cream in the fridge if you put that in your tea." He pointed out, before working on his own cup. "I guess you're not as much of the party boy as you were before?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 12:52 pm
He took his cup of tea gratefully, trying not to frown or pout as Ladon more of less waved off the protein, and telling himself he would just have to make sure his friend was getting enough in other ways. If he wasn’t going to do it for himself, Paris would just make sure he conveniently had an extra smoothie with him the next time he came over or something. If he had to start pulling out the tricks his mother used to use on him to get him to eat his vegetables before he realized they weren’t actually as gross as he thought just to get Ladon looking more healthy, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
“The last party I went to was a few months ago, after I-” He cut himself off before he could mention anything involving Chris again, even if that particular memory wasn't an especially happy one. “Anyway, it was just some frat thing someone on my street invited me to and I was feeling sort of down at the time so I thought it would be a good idea. Turns out it wasn’t, ‘cause I don’t remember much of it, just waking up the next morning feeling even more like s**t than I did before.”
Which had been quite a frequent feeling during his partying days, if he took the time to remember. Vain and cocky he might have been, but he’d never truly felt all that good about himself. Things were different now. He’d been so out of control of his life before. Now that he had a bit of a firm grasp on it, he didn’t intend to slide back and regress.
Adding a bit of sugar into his tea while it steeped, Paris turned the subject to more positive things, jumping at the chance to talk about his dancing. “I’ve been doing some shows with one of the local dance companies. They’re not, like, major or hugely renowned, like the American Ballet Theatre or Bolshoi, but it’s a start. They look for a lot of local talent. My ballet instructor knows the owner and the producer, so I got to do a private audition and they agreed to take me on for a while. It was all luck, really. Knowing the right people. I get to dance the way I’ve always wanted to, though. Uh, you know, not the male roles, but… the female ones,” he said, swishing his tea bag around in the mug.
“I can pass off as a girl easy enough, but there still aren’t a lot of people who’ve been willing to take a chance on me. So this has really been a good opportunity. I got to dance as the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker, which I’ve always wanted to do ever since I was little, and next we’re doing Sleeping Beauty. That and Swan Lake are my two favorites. I’ll be the Lilac Fairy. Uh… it’s different from the Disney movie, but she’s the one who fixes the curse to make it so Aurora only falls asleep when she pricks her finger instead of dying. So like Merryweather, only not. You know, ‘And from this slumber you shall wake, when true love’s kiss the spell shall break,’ and… all that.”
He paused from his rambling to look closely at Ladon again. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for once, having so many things going right in his life, when Ladon was wasting away here by himself, stuck in some sort of a rut that Paris wasn’t sure he knew how to help him out of.
“I could always get you tickets if you ever wanted to see. You don’t seem like you get out all that much anymore,” he sadly observed. “If you ever wanted to do anything – I mean anything – I’ve always got some time.”
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 5:36 pm
He sipped his tea, watching as Paris explained what exciting productions he was in, and the future of his life. It was nice to see that Paris was having his life on tract, something to look forward to than the next one night stand or passing party, and he was happy that he was taking it easy on the late-night wanderings now, especially these days. Unless they thought of crashing a theater production, then Paris was relatively safe. But.........with hsi life the way it was, he wondered if, despite their reunion of friendship, if they would drift away. It happened with Tate. She got her life on tract, went to college, and became friends with other, more interesting people. Other actors, and maybe richer friends from Chris' circle of friends and family. They'd go old together, happy together, move in, and Paris wouldn't visit as often - not that he hadn't been visiting that often before.
His eyes wandered around the empty apartment, and he wondered, come next Christmas, if Paris would be spending the entire holiday week with Chris and his family when he was better accepted and welcomed - if he wasn't already.
"That sounds nice. I haven't been to many dances. I think...one really, that a old friend invited me to." He moved to the center counter that divided the kitchen from the living room, and sat down, gesturing to the other one across the counter. They were recently picked up at a second-hand store, and were slender enough for the small space without making you feel as if you were about to slip off or fall over. "I go out all the time. What makes you think that?" He looked at Paris with narrowing eyes, wondering if he was letting some sign or clue of his own weariness slip through.
As it was, he reached out and added a bit more sugar to his tea. "So.....these....roles you are playing. You ....really prefer the girl roles a lot. You even..." He glanced at Paris' attire. "Do you...just want to be a girl?" It was a rather heavy subject to bring up, but he had been wondering. Once he said it, he wondered if he was being a bit bolder with his questions these days.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 7:07 pm
Paris just smiled innocently when Ladon claimed to go out. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Paris wasn’t really sure, if he were to be honest. But he assumed, judging by Ladon’s behavior, by his pale, thin appearance, that he wasn’t living a very social life these days. Not that he blamed him after having a rough time of it and going through a messy break-up, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sad to behold. Paris wondered what he could do to fix it, or if Ladon would even let him. Maybe he’d just keep resisting.
It made Paris feel like a crappy friend, for not trying as hard as he thought he should.
He went to the refrigerator to put some cream in his tea—inspecting the inside as he did so and finding it in a better state than he’d expected—before moving to sit in the chair that had been offered to him. He kept his hands wrapped around his mug, warming them, before lifting it to sip.
“Do I want to be a girl?” he repeated, lowering his cup to stare across at Ladon in surprise. “You know, you’re not even the first person to ask me that lately.”
He supposed it wasn’t a question that came out of nowhere. With the way he dressed, and the roles he preferred to play, it was bound to come up in conversation by those brave—or insensitive, depending on their tone and the situation—enough to ask it. He couldn’t say he minded. It was natural for people to be curious, after all. He simply wasn’t ever sure the answer he gave was the one people would expect or prefer to hear. It wasn’t exactly the easiest subject for some people to discuss.
“Well… I don't know... no, not really... or, well... maybe... I mean, I don’t think I’d mind,” he said. He took another sip of his tea to give himself time to think about how he wanted to phrase his thoughts out loud. “But I don’t really mind being a boy either. Like, I’m comfortable in the sort of clothes I wear, and I’ve always wanted to dance a certain way, and people say I’m pretty girly, but… I don’t know, really. I don't know that I feel the need to change right now. I don’t care if people think of me as a girl, and I don’t care if people think of me as a boy. I really don’t. I’m okay the way I am.”
Wondering if he was doing a good enough job explaining himself, Paris frowned slightly. “Sometimes when I was younger and I didn’t get the role I wanted, I thought about doing it. You know, doing the surgery, if that's what it took. Just so people would take me more seriously when it comes to dance. But then I thought that would be a really super shitty reason for doing it when there are people who have it way worse than me, so I figured I should just suck it up and keep pushing myself and force people to take me seriously by proving that it doesn’t matter.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if I should want to, since that’s what people expect. Like, is there something wrong with me or whatever? Then I don’t care, since I’m already mostly happy the way I am. I figure that’s the most important thing. Maybe one day things’ll change, or maybe they won’t. Either way, I just want to be happy.”
Paris took another sip of his tea, then sighed and set his cup back down again. “I feel like I’m talking too much,” he said. “You can tell me to shut up, you know. Or… what have you been up to lately?” he tried.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 7:39 pm
It was a detailed explanation, and the reasoning was, in his opinion, rather sound. It was actually a bit surprising that someone who used to go party and have a poor opinion of people was that comfortable with who they were to just DO what they wanted and wear what they felt. "I can appreciate the fact you aren't just bending your own values." He said with as mile, actually rather impressed by the entire statement that Paris wasn't the type to just let others tell him that he would either have to be a girl in the physical sense to make his desire to play female roles work or to just give up and play the roles he didn't want. He could only hope that he could convince everyone else, and considering what seemed like a long time of practicing outside of dancing, he was rather sure that if he went to one of his dances, he would be hard to point out from the other girls.
The conversation, while one sided, was nice, and Ladon always preferred to listen, but a conversation could only go so far with one person talking, and Paris tossed a very easy, simple question in his court - and Ladon didn't know what to do with the ball. He had made his life around being a Negaverser, that being the only thing he was doing, but he didn't want to lie to Paris either.
"Uh.....well........I go out." He already said that. "Um....I talked to someone about maybe getting a car...or a scooter. I don't know if I can afford it." He looked about, then down at his tea. "Started a ...night job." He would need something to explain to others what he was doing late at night. Of course, he couldn't go into details. "Just odd work. I found it out by a friend, and the pay is decent." In that he just stole the money he needed. "....but might look another one." An ACTUAL job that wasn't part of his other life. It just...seemed to be the best idea to cover up what he was really doing. Someone was bound to wonder where he got his money when he didn't have a job. "Nothing much." Aside from that, he just slept all day. He didn't go out aside to eat at a restaurant or to pick something up, and he barely watched any television. He hadn't been to a theater in ages. Sadly, he could not use the 'I'm still healing' excuse anymore.
He sipped his tea, not wanting to get on HIS life too much. "Did you talk to Chris?" He asked, dodging the conversation quickly with a topic he told himself he wouldn't bring up on the holidays.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 8:09 pm
“Oh my God, a scooter would be totally cute!” Paris exclaimed. He felt he should have been a bit more concerned about the halting, almost hesitant manner in which Ladon was answering his question, but the fact that he was even thinking about getting some sort of transportation meant he’d be able to be more mobile, and Paris could at least be happy about that. “A car would be warmer, though, but I bet it’d be nice driving a scooter around in the summer time. If I had my license, I would totally get a scooter.”
Not that he’d ever had much of a reason to bother getting his license. He’d survived on public transportation this long, and while he figured it must be nice not having to worry about the crowds or planning his day according to scheduled stops, he’d found over the years that he didn’t really mind it.
Besides, he had Chris to drive him around now anyway.
He paused, surprised that Ladon would bring up Chris on his own, though he wondered if he should be given their last confrontation at Chris’s apartment. Paris had been doing his best not to tread on that subject too much, seeing as the boyfriend thing had always been a touchy issue between them—his boyfriend, Ladon’s boyfriend, it didn’t seem to matter. They’d found something to argue about concerning both.
“I did tell him,” Paris said, glancing down at his cup of tea. “Not long after I saw you at his place. I’d already felt bad about what I was doing, so… so I told him. He was pretty angry. He sort of threw me out. But he let me apologize for it later and we were still kind of friends for a while. Except that we bickered a lot, but whatever. When I got the dancing gig I asked him if he’d mind helping out at Dad’s store, ‘cause Dad wasn’t doing too great and I’d already dropped out of school to take over for him. And then things sort of just… went from there.”
He smiled lightly to himself and drank more of his tea. “He took me out the other night. We went to this cheap motel. It was totally hot,” he said, raising his eyes to grin at Ladon. “That was the night before last, actually. And then yesterday we pretty much just spent all day lazing around in bed. I don’t really know if we’re dating again, but… well, I guess we are. Maybe… or it could be a friends thing. I don’t know. I don’t really want it to be a friends thing, though. I really like him…”
Paris paused again and stared at Ladon cautiously. He had a question at the tip of his tongue, but wasn’t sure how his friend would response to it if he asked. Was he still upset about it? Or was he more angry now? Would he want to talk about it? Or would he brush it off and change the subject again?
“I… uh… saw Billy,” he told him, trying to be as gentle as he possibly could about it. “My dad has a little art supply store. You know, he sells, like… sketch books and pencils and fancy markers and paint and… stuff. My first day… uh… Billy came in for some things… and, like… uh… I mean, he looked kind of shitty, and I made sure to tell him off, because let’s face it, he was a total douche,” he made sure to say, and then winced after he’d done so. “Um… so… I guess I was just wondering if you’d seen him or… or if you were okay or wanted to talk about it or whatever.”
Somewhere inside, a little voice was encouraging him to bash his head against the counter. He was sure he hadn’t been graceful about that line of questioning at all.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 8:38 pm
It was a good thing that Paris did take his advice and tell Chris, and just for that, he felt he could at least look Paris in the eye and not hate him for lying. In no way did he want Paris to wind up being like Billy, or for Chris to be lied to and used just to make someone else happy. Then Paris continued, and Ladon was left feeling awkward and out of place when Paris informed him that they made up, went to a hotel, and spent the entire day in bed. It was that sort of romantic makeup that he wished he had, though the idea of sex now twisted his insides. His experience so far, as short as it was, had left him feeling hollow even now. What would Paris think of him if he admitted that he didn't stick to his own rigid morals and ethics and did exactly the sort of thing Paris used to practice? It was as if while Paris was improving, he was just getting worse. When did their lives just switch? This was Freaky Friday!
When he heard the name Billy, his fingers automatically squeezed hsi mug, flinching at the name. Billy. His mouth went dry, and his insides gripped tight to the point it felt painful to breath. His eyes had that sensation that they would be ready to mist if just the right words were spoken, and despite sending messages to his body to just keep it's cool, he knew it was already gearing up to break down. "I've...seen him. Just passing. ........we don't talk." It was hard 'working' in the same place as his ex, and every time he saw him, part of him wanted to kill him, while the other half wanted to just break down and yell at him for being such a heartless b*****d and ruining everything. They had something - until Billy said it was all a lie. That none of it had been real, yet he gave him a ring, said he loved him, and just messed with his head so much that he wasn't sure if he was being toyed with more or if somewhere in that messy breakup was a shred of something he could hold onto. He felt stupid for even thinking that he could cling to what he knew was an illusion and hope for it's return, and all it did was tell him he was a moron, knew nothing, and that none of it mattered. It just...seemed he wasn't made to be with anyone.
He would feel his vision blurring in the corner of his eye, and he waited a good minute for his eyes to regain their composure and will back any tears that were trying to collect. "I'm fine." He managed, the pitch of his voice higher as he swallowed again, and looked at Paris' mug. He didn't have it in him to look any higher than that. "What....What happened to your dad?" He just had to move past this topic, and he forced out the sentence as best he could. Anything to escape thinking of Billy. He couldn't do it, and he didn't want to cry on the holidays. It was Chrsitmas Eve! It was a ******** time to be - to be happy!
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 9:27 pm
He wanted to keep asking. Curiosity and the craving for information were hard to ignore, especially on a topic that he had, at one point, been partially invested in. He couldn’t say he’d ever particularly liked Billy, but had it not been for the whole situation with Ladon, he might have been able to see himself being a little more friendly toward him. But finding out about the two of them had been a bit of a blow either way—that Ladon hadn’t bothered to tell him, and that Billy had called him a mistake.
For someone who’d already felt pretty worthless to begin with, deep inside, beneath all the emotional barriers and the bravado he put in place to protect himself, being called a mistake by anyone—whether or not they were friends—hurt quite a bit.
He’d always wanted to see the smug b*****d get exactly what he deserved. Just not at Ladon’s expense. Now, he could sense how torn up Ladon was about it, and he didn’t want to push so hard on the topic that his friend just… clammed up completely… or burst into tears.
He wasn’t sure which would be worse.
“Dad ended up in the hospital back in August. Heart disease. And his liver’s not too great, seeing as he tends to drink so much,” he said. He twisted his mug around in his hands, trying not to sound too terribly upset. It wasn’t the sort of situation he’d ever wanted to be in, but he was living with it. He supposed things could have been worse. “He’s doing okay, though. For now. He’s back at work, but I try to limit his hours so he’s not pushing himself too much. Running the store’s not too bad. I like working better than going to school. I’m going back, though,” he added. “Too school, I mean. Or I’m getting my GED, at least. I want to try to go to DCU. Get my BFA in dance.”
He tried to look happy. He was, if he were completely honest with himself. He liked the way things had been progressing for him lately. In some ways he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, always wondering when something would happen to ruin everything, but for the most part he tried not to dwell on it and to focus on the good things instead.
Except seeing Ladon so sad made him feel so guilty. He didn’t know what to do to fix it—or even if he could do anything at all.
“Lady,” he tried again. He let go of his mug to reach out and attempt to grab one of Ladon’s hands. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything. I don’t mind listening, I swear. Or if you want to scream, or just cry… it’s okay. I do it, too, sometimes. I did it when my dad got sick, and when Chris broke up with me. I know it hurts, and it always makes me feel so pathetic when I do it, but then I feel better after, too. And it’s sort of embarrassing, isn’t it? With other people around? But sometimes I think I like it better that way, because then I’m not alone.”
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 10:15 pm
He felt bad that his father was going through a hard time, and that Paris had dropped out. Not by choice, but due to family, and he was glad he was planning to go back, but worried about hsi father's health and how it affected the boy's situation. It seemed that while his dad was still recovering, he would be working and watching over his father. "I didn't know about your dad. You ..you should have told me too." It had been the same for him. Paris hadn't know about how his life was going and that their had been such a changing event in his life, this due to his own health, while Paris was now alway dealing with his a family health issue. "I guess we've both have had problems." And he hadn't been there. The time when they could have used each other the most, neither one of them had been there. They were both at fault. "I hope your father gets better, and if you need help, at the shop or anything, I wouldn't mind." In fact, he had very little else to do. If it meant getting Paris back to school, he'd offer to work his shift. he only hoped it wasn't too forward of him.
A hand then reached over the table, and it gripped the one resting near his mug. It made him tense instantly, as he was rarely touched, and he looked down at the hand, keeping himself from pulling away, before looking up to meet Paris' eyes. They were intense with concern, and genuine worry. The plea in his voice that he was here for him was not surprising but startling nonetheless. For the longest time, since Billy left, he had no one to talk to. He hadn't had anyone to talk about his break up, to help him with the nightmares or lingering worries and concerns about his mental stability, or to just share anything about his life with. What little he shared with his fellow officers was hardly personal as he still felt himself restrained by the need to keep up a professional image. If he couldn't show that he could handle his own affairs, then he worries it would translate to not being able to do his own patrolling properly.
He had been alone for a while, with no one to talk to, and after the breakup, he had no one to call and ask the whys of it all.
He wasn't going to break down. He wasn't going to break down. He wasn't going to break down. It was the holidays. He was supposed to be merry.
"Thank you." He curled his hand away, unable to look up. "You too." His voice was higher than he would have liked, throat tight and threatening to shatter his voice into sharp, broken, sentences.
He rose up quickly, and turned to move the few steps over to the stove to busy himself with checking the pots and chicken and turning off a few dials. Most of the food seemed done now, but he was really more thankful to look at the dials and will his eyes to not fill or his body to shake. His lips were pressed tightly to keep any whines or escaping sounds from slipping past his lips.
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