Lorne (
nomorekaraoke) wrote2010-08-10 10:30 am
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Entry tags:
- beth,
- dream plot,
- rp
[In Need of a Friend]
That morning, waking up was the most confusingly lovely thing he'd ever done. It was wonderful, and scary and thrilling at the same time, and it made him feel like something had sucked his heartbeat right up to his chest. It was so wonderful it left him feeling slightly giddy, ever so slightly nauseous with overwhelming excitement.
~*~
He's been smoking all day, walking around the place like he's a very antsy alarm clock just waiting to go off. He'll start screaming soon. If he stops moving, he'll start throwing things around and upset his neighbors, and he'll scream and then he won't know how to stop.
Maybe if he just keeps breathing, he'll be fine. Maybe the smoke will keep him warm enough that he doesn't notice just how empty his too big apartment is. But why stop there? Why not include his whole life into the equation?
Lighting up the last cigarette in his last pack of them, Lorne takes a long, unsteady drag and exhales. Even his breath sounds like death warmed over, and suddenly he's struck by another string of thoughts. His record's stuck on repeat: I don't want to be alone
I don't want to be alone!
I don't want to
He picks up his cell phone off the coffee table, going through his call log and picking out the only number he can trust. And what does he get for it? He gets the answering machine. 'Hi, this is Beth. You know what to do after the beep.'
"Beth, are you there? I didn't know who else to call...but I'm having a really bad day, and I'm not dealing very well, and I just think I need someone to talk to. I didn't know who else to call, I'm sorry if this is totally inappropriate, I just... Call me when you can, all right?"
~*~
He's been smoking all day, walking around the place like he's a very antsy alarm clock just waiting to go off. He'll start screaming soon. If he stops moving, he'll start throwing things around and upset his neighbors, and he'll scream and then he won't know how to stop.
Maybe if he just keeps breathing, he'll be fine. Maybe the smoke will keep him warm enough that he doesn't notice just how empty his too big apartment is. But why stop there? Why not include his whole life into the equation?
Lighting up the last cigarette in his last pack of them, Lorne takes a long, unsteady drag and exhales. Even his breath sounds like death warmed over, and suddenly he's struck by another string of thoughts. His record's stuck on repeat: I don't want to be alone
I don't want to be alone!
I don't want to
He picks up his cell phone off the coffee table, going through his call log and picking out the only number he can trust. And what does he get for it? He gets the answering machine. 'Hi, this is Beth. You know what to do after the beep.'
"Beth, are you there? I didn't know who else to call...but I'm having a really bad day, and I'm not dealing very well, and I just think I need someone to talk to. I didn't know who else to call, I'm sorry if this is totally inappropriate, I just... Call me when you can, all right?"
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"I never had all that many friends, in LA," he says, then, as if talking about the weather. "I could count them with the fingers of just one hand. Three of them died in less than a year, and I couldn't do one thing to save them. I didn't see it coming."
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Her voice is tiny, and softened with sorrow.
"How awful for you."
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"Every time I start caring for someone, I panic at the thought of losing them. I don't really...get past that stage all that often, but when I do..." He'll give anything, including his own life to keep them safe.
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She puts out her hand again, this time palm up.
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"Is that ... I don't know how to ask this. Is that what it means? Your, your dream?"
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"It just won't be me."
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"You'll figure out a way," she tells him, trying hard to project confidence. "It'll be all right."
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"Yeah," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over Beth's fingers, squeezing them gently. "I just need to get over the overwhelming urge to drown my sorrows in gin."
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"...I'm so screwed. Aren't I?"
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"Is it gonna do any good to say it's not the end of the world?"
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"Didn't see that one comin' either."
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She's quiet for a second, sober.
"I know that's not really the same thing as better."
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"You know who it is," he asks, hating the words the moment they're out of his mouth. "Don't you?"
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She takes a deep breath and manages to speak matter-of-factly. "I could guess. Unless you'd rather I didn't."
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He feels so ignorant. He doesn't even know what Beth really thinks of the guy, and what's worse, he never bothered to ask. He just made assumptions.
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"Okay."
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Softer, again: "He's a good guy."
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He shakes his head, a self deprecating smile tugging at his lips. "First time I met him, I thought he was such a self absorbed, conceited little weirdo. Ten years ago, I would've had him figured out in five seconds flat. I've lost my touch."
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