just because my mom's a fuck-up and can barely stand to look at me doesn't mean i'm just gonna leave her for good i know i don't have to deal with her but then who the fuck is you make it sound like this shit is simple when it's not
im not the only nutjob in existence if u saw half the weird shit i see on a regular basis u would be p apathetic abt most of it too
lol yeah a little, enough to get me by and show off at bonfires like an obnoxious douchebag doubt i can't really play like u bc i don't practice all the time but i'd do acoustics for u while u sing
thats another lie bc u ask me to show u weird shit all the time
i only picked it up bc my girlfriend at the time thought it was sexy but i'm p good at it when i actually practice so are u coming over to hang tonight or are u still w ur out of townie
of course it was about a girl we should practice together sometime i'm still with my "out of townie" but do you want to come to a party with us tonight
good to know that your life will never revolve around me some rich photographer's beach house there might even be a bonfire where you can attract some pussy
ok well come out tonight and we'll hang you didn't have to do it the first time you know but don't worry i'll let everyone there know not to ask you to do porn
i know ur trying to help but it's not even remotely the same there's also no point
he was coming for u dumbass
[ obvious to delta but maybe not so obvious to ashe. ]
i had to fix the veil but i couldn't do it with you there u weren't gonna fuck off either way in retrospect it was a shitty idea bc it made u fuck off even less
look just because you suck at everything doesn't mean you have to keep sucking at everything there must be at least one shitty person on the planet that would agree to be your mentor i know you've probably never employed any higher order thinking skills ever in your life but i have a better chance of being right here
next time let me handle it on my own
you picked a fight with me thinking it would make me run off like a little bitch you're a fucking dumbass
i'm not trying to be a defeatist but trust me when i tell u that there is LITERALLY no point it would be a waste of everyone's time including the poor fucker tasked w training me i learned what i could from six
my bad i didn't realize u had a figurative itchy trigger finger
[ fucking delta. he frowns at his phone, pushing aside the nagging little feeling that he's missing something here. he has enough to worry about without adding the dumbest person he knows to the list. ]
i just don't take shit from people i never have been a while since anyone's done what you did though
i've never like i've never called anyone that i really didn't mean it not that it matters bc i'm sure it felt like shit anyway regardless of my intentions but i'm sorry, i panicked i thought of u getting hurt bc of my own stupid bullshit and wanted to fucking vomit
i don't talk to anyone except u anymore who would i even tell of sorts
[ first thing he did after he smeared blood on his front door trying to get inside the house was bang around in his bathroom for a small kit and splash vodka over his hand when he couldn't find the rubbing alcohol. the pain swept him to his knees, merciless even with two tablets of six's vicodin, but he stitched himself up once the nausea and dizziness passed then fell asleep on the couch watching old cartoons.
i can't imagine you would be good at stitches dude you know i can sew, i could've helped you if you asked i know i bailed pretty fast but i assumed you would go to a hospital
[ somehow imagining delta struggling through sewing his hand up makes him feel... like shit. he tries to shake it off, but emptiness still grows right in the center of his chest. ]
did you check on it today does it feel hot and look red or what
[ the milkshake bar by the theater is his favorite place to go with his mom. every time she suggests it it means that she's in a good mood, which puts ashe in a good mood, and the promise of chocolate makes the night even better. seated in a booth with the light reflecting from his mother's brown eyes allows him to pretend, at least for a moment, that their life is normal. that this is how it can always be.
his mother gets a strawberry milkshake while ashe opts for cookies and cream. they order fries to share, and ashe kicks her foot under the table when she pulls out a rum shooter to pour into her milkshake. then another, and another. ashe accepts the fourth one just so she doesn't down it herself.
still, it's a good night. they laugh and they talk and ashe tells her about his chemistry project that he's doing on his own because his partner showed up for two days and then dipped for the rest of the week. it's friday evening and though they exchanged numbers on monday before the end of the period, ashe is too proud to call because that means that he needs help and he most certainly does not need that, ever.
why haven't you reached out and asked if he's okay? his mother asks, and ashe just looks at her for a moment, because the thought never even crossed his mind. is he okay? who cares? delta is the last person he wanted to be paired up with anyway, a perpetual flake and chronic absentee with mediocre grades. typical fucking meathead jock.
he gets pushed from his mind for the rest of the evening, until he and his mother exit the shop and run straight into three members of the hockey team, delta included. ( he looks fine. fucking asshole. ) ashe wants to push straight through them, but one of them sneers and makes a comment about the freak and the crackhead, and before he can stop her, his mother spits in his face.
the boy lunges forward and ashe dives between them, throwing the rest of his spiked milkshake in his face and shoving him back. ]
Don't fucking touch her.
[ it never occurs to him, even when he tastes blood in his mouth from how hard he gets punched, that he should have tried deescalating the situation first. all he thinks about is how in this moment he hates that he knows his mom has his back, because she's going to get her idiot ass arrested if she assaults a minor — even if he's a fucking asshole who deserves it. ]
ashe.
like... potentially? i guess
i never have if thats what ur suggesting
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do you just like everyone you meet
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[ bitch that is highkey psychotic ]
ive talked enough abt myself
tell me more abt u
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there are really shitty people in the world
this is my natural hair color
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but i dont worry abt ppl like that
why didnt u ever talk to me in school
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must be nice
you're such a fucking douchebag
shit like this is why
we didn't have shit in common
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why deal w ppl u dont have to
i still dont get why u havent moved out if u hate it here so much
i liked ur music. i think i would've liked u.
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i know i don't have to deal with her but then who the fuck is
you make it sound like this shit is simple when it's not
you didn't really talk to me either you know
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ashe.
im not the only nutjob in existence
if u saw half the weird shit i see on a regular basis u would be p apathetic abt most of it too
lol yeah a little, enough to get me by and show off at bonfires like an obnoxious douchebag
doubt i can't really play like u bc i don't practice all the time
but i'd do acoustics for u while u sing
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i'm good on that
i've seen you play before
i went to a couple of those bonfires you know
you definitely have obnoxious douchebag down to an art
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i only picked it up bc my girlfriend at the time thought it was sexy
but i'm p good at it when i actually practice
so are u coming over to hang tonight or are u still w ur out of townie
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of course it was about a girl
we should practice together sometime
i'm still with my "out of townie" but do you want to come to a party with us tonight
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everything in my life circles back to a girl
idk maybe
depends where u guys are kicking it
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good to know that your life will never revolve around me
some rich photographer's beach house
there might even be a bonfire where you can attract some pussy
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kinda just wanna hang w u dude
not rly looking for pussy rn
is this rich photographer a weird creep bc i'm not doing porn again
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you didn't have to do it the first time you know
but don't worry i'll let everyone there know not to ask you to do porn
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tw homophobic slurs??? just in case
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ashe.
i know ur trying to help but it's not even remotely the same
there's also no point
he was coming for u dumbass
[ obvious to delta but maybe not so obvious to ashe. ]
i had to fix the veil but i couldn't do it with you there
u weren't gonna fuck off either way
in retrospect it was a shitty idea bc it made u fuck off even less
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there must be at least one shitty person on the planet that would agree to be your mentor
i know you've probably never employed any higher order thinking skills ever in your life but i have a better chance of being right here
next time let me handle it on my own
you picked a fight with me thinking it would make me run off like a little bitch
you're a fucking dumbass
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[ i'm fucking dying is a conversation killer. ]
i'm not trying to be a defeatist but trust me when i tell u that there is LITERALLY no point
it would be a waste of everyone's time including the poor fucker tasked w training me
i learned what i could from six
my bad i didn't realize u had a figurative itchy trigger finger
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[ fucking delta. he frowns at his phone, pushing aside the nagging little feeling that he's missing something here. he has enough to worry about without adding the dumbest person he knows to the list. ]
i just don't take shit from people
i never have
been a while since anyone's done what you did though
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i've never
like i've never called anyone that
i really didn't mean it
not that it matters bc i'm sure it felt like shit anyway regardless of my intentions but i'm sorry, i panicked
i thought of u getting hurt bc of my own stupid bullshit and wanted to fucking vomit
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it's whatever delta
i don't want to talk about it
i've heard it so many times it doesn't mean shit to me anyway
anyway in theory we're both fine
just don't tell anyone about me
i'm not like you i don't like fucking sharing with the class
did you get stitches
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but ok
i don't talk to anyone except u anymore
who would i even tell
of sorts
[ first thing he did after he smeared blood on his front door trying to get inside the house was bang around in his bathroom for a small kit and splash vodka over his hand when he couldn't find the rubbing alcohol. the pain swept him to his knees, merciless even with two tablets of six's vicodin, but he stitched himself up once the nausea and dizziness passed then fell asleep on the couch watching old cartoons.
the blood he cleaned up in the morning. ]
i did a better job than last time
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dude you know i can sew, i could've helped you if you asked
i know i bailed pretty fast but i assumed you would go to a hospital
[ somehow imagining delta struggling through sewing his hand up makes him feel... like shit. he tries to shake it off, but emptiness still grows right in the center of his chest. ]
did you check on it today
does it feel hot and look red or what
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hs babie things.
his mother gets a strawberry milkshake while ashe opts for cookies and cream. they order fries to share, and ashe kicks her foot under the table when she pulls out a rum shooter to pour into her milkshake. then another, and another. ashe accepts the fourth one just so she doesn't down it herself.
still, it's a good night. they laugh and they talk and ashe tells her about his chemistry project that he's doing on his own because his partner showed up for two days and then dipped for the rest of the week. it's friday evening and though they exchanged numbers on monday before the end of the period, ashe is too proud to call because that means that he needs help and he most certainly does not need that, ever.
why haven't you reached out and asked if he's okay? his mother asks, and ashe just looks at her for a moment, because the thought never even crossed his mind. is he okay? who cares? delta is the last person he wanted to be paired up with anyway, a perpetual flake and chronic absentee with mediocre grades. typical fucking meathead jock.
he gets pushed from his mind for the rest of the evening, until he and his mother exit the shop and run straight into three members of the hockey team, delta included. ( he looks fine. fucking asshole. ) ashe wants to push straight through them, but one of them sneers and makes a comment about the freak and the crackhead, and before he can stop her, his mother spits in his face.
the boy lunges forward and ashe dives between them, throwing the rest of his spiked milkshake in his face and shoving him back. ]
Don't fucking touch her.
[ it never occurs to him, even when he tastes blood in his mouth from how hard he gets punched, that he should have tried deescalating the situation first. all he thinks about is how in this moment he hates that he knows his mom has his back, because she's going to get her idiot ass arrested if she assaults a minor — even if he's a fucking asshole who deserves it. ]