Gotta Be A Good Life

Merry Christmas, you little asshole. 

I know you don’t like the holiday, but I figured a meaningful gift and a lot of sex while our roommates are with their (alive) families for the holidays might help sway you. I didn’t know what kind of nerd ass games you’d want to play on this nerd ass console, so I got a bunch I figured you might like. Pokemon Stadium, Donkey Kong shit, Zelda, such and such. A gift giving occasion couldn’t pass without you getting a new graphic tee and the sweater has something to do with LOTR I’m assuming, so enjoy. Also! I got you a fifty dollar gift card to Old Mel’s. Super enjoy that. 

Thanks. For everything. I love you. 

far too happy to have caught a friend’s attention, delphi’s smile was wide and eager as gabe approached. still, it wobbled and turned into a stubborn pout when gabriel tried to assert his opinion on the matter, convinced he wouldn’t be able to accomplish the great quest delphi was trying to bestow upon him. she believed in him! so he needed to believe in himself, too!

“um, incorrect!” delphi pointed at him, as if she had something very important to say. “this isn’t a sport, gabe. this is a game. and you can do this! wanna know why? ‘cause i believe in you! and also because you’re just generally a great person who does great things. like winning me a cute little reindeer.”

“But if I don’t win it, will you be upset?” Gabe demanded as if he had pointed out the fatal flaw in her logic, pointing at her accusingly. Delphi was one of those genuinely nice people who he wasn’t entirely convinced wasn’t an actual angel or an alien sent to earth to drive average people insane questioning whether they were shitty people, or just not quite as sweet as her. Still, he truly liked her from what time they had spent together.

“Because if you try and you lose, you can’t be mad at anyone but yourself, but if you ask me to do it and I fail, you could either cry or resent me for it, and if that happens I’m going to sell all my stuff and move to a monastery to do due penance for my crimes against humanity, so like, why do you want me to be a penniless monk Delphi? Huh?” He demanded in a fake angry tone.

“–I just want to know what poor, simple person’s terrible decision making skill put my dad on the baking contest’s judge panel…And why they hate me.” 

“Wait wait wait.” Gabe demanded, looking at Elizabeth with an expression that could only be described as hurt. “I’m an idiot, are you telling me you are an Echolls as in Edgar Echolls? As in The Office Edgar Echolls?” Frowning, he shook his head. “That’s- cool. One of my favorite actors from one of my favorite TV shows spawned the goddamn Antichrist who brought a pound of coke into my home. Cool. Cool cool. Cool. Greeeaat.” 

it wasn’t that it necessarily mattered whether or not delphi won the cute little stuffed reindeer, but it mattered a little. she didn’t want to walk away from the game empty handed, and especially not empty handed and feeling like an idiot for not winning such a simple game. so far, she had two of the three balloons popped that she needed, but ponying up to take the last shot had her biting at her lower lip. she’d already targeted the easiest ones to hit. now she was stuck. “..hey! you should come help me win this reindeer.” 

there was nothing wrong with asking for help, so that’s exactly what delphi chose to do, turning to call out to the nearest person walking by. it wasn’t like there was a rule that said she had to be the one to hit all the balloons, just that they had to be hit and she had to pay for the darts.”pleeeease? i’ll treat you to lunch or something!”

Gabe didn’t really have too much time for the holiday festival, or a lot of love for the holiday season as a whole, if he was being honest. It signaled that the anniversary of his mother’s death was coming, and after the whole chain of events it had prompted last year, and the fact that he had found Bekah this year... He didn’t know what the season was going to be like this year. Still, it was his lunch break and he figured it would be more interesting than sitting in Old Mel’s doing homework and listening to Valencia’s shrill voice.

His attention caught by someone calling out to him, Gabe paused, making a beeline towards Delphi once he recognized her. “You assume I can do better why? Don’t be fooled by the fact that I’m a Quidditch star dearest Delphi, sports are not my forte.”

“Smart man.” Georgie couldn’t help but smirk at the quickness in his response. “Thank you for respecting me and Nebula. We both appreciate it.” Her attention stayed partially on him as she continued to tinker and look over the engine. “What has you running about on this slightly windy day?”

“Nebula.” Gabe pronounced the car’s name in an over the top reverent tone. “Just running some errands- secretly paying my phone bill in person, got a job fixing some restaurant's wifi server for cheap, picking up what counts for groceries in my trash fire of an apartment- that being frozen pizzas and microwave burritos. And the wind has been a real inconvenience, what with my hair. And you, terrifying warrior woman?”

Jonas flopped onto his side as Gabe’s assault hit him full force on his left ass cheek, an annoyed huff pushing out from the back of his throat as he lay there on the floor, speaking up to Gabe without the slightest intention of getting up to perform the task that his coworker had requested of him. “Bro, fuck you. I just smoked a roach out back and I’m trying to center my chakras or something.”  

“Dude. Dude.” Gabe stressed, lobbing another $2 calculator at Jonas. “First off, fuck you for not sharing. Second off, I’ve said multiple times if you can’t work whilst faded don’t smoke before or during work. Actually probably smoking while at work is a bad idea anyway, if not for the legal ramifications for the fact that if you do not go stock those damn books I am going to do bodily harm to you. Intense bodily harm.”

My masculinity isn’t as damn fragile as a 97-year-old’s hip joint, so it doesn’t bother me. Not to sound like a cocky asshole, but at the end of the day I know Stella loves me and wouldn’t do anything to betray my trust.

So, get bent anon; I’m dating a flawless, statuesque, tough as dang nails goddess, and anyone who says otherwise can meet me in the pit to fight me physically. 

“I don’t brag unless I have the truth to back me up. That’s just good form.” She tilted her head as her gaze snapped to his outstretched hand. “I’d really like to avoid hurting you, the boyfriend of my friend Stella, so I recommend retracting your hands.” 

Looking at her with shock and a little bit of fear, Gabe raised his hands slowly, wiggling his fingers as if to show they were empty and he was no threat. “I too, would like to avoid that. Everyone would like to avoid that. If not purely to avoid getting pancreas juice on your beautiful metal child here.” 

“I was in the studio with Tucker earlier and he told me the worst joke–which, before you ask, I will not repeat because I do not remember ti correctly and I don’t want to give you any more material–but I was thinking…Why is everyone in my life so stupid, you know? And naturally, I thought of king idiot, who the fires of my heart burn fervently for.” Ending her short dialogue with a slighted smirk and a quick peck, Stella twirled out of his grasp to hop up onto one of the stools at his side, extending a leg to curl at his thigh in efforts to pull him closer. 

“What’s going on with you, babe? Velveeta being a huge bitch today?” She asked, shifting her gaze over her shoulder to catch sight of Valencia Lombardi pouring a drink for a man that Stella knew to be one of Melvin’s old friends from in town, solely because of the number of times she’d found herself rooted on the stool next to him in the past. 

“I’m still waiting for the go ahead to put operation Get Porter And Vaseline To Fuck Away Their Miserable Lives, because I think if she just gets laid, she might be a little less of a cunt.” 

“You got another man in your life telling you terrible jokes? Do I have something to be worried about?” Gabe demanded in an offended tone, grinning to show that he wasn’t serious as he stumbled forward, bracing his hand on her leg so he wouldn’t wholly fall at the force of her tugging. “Because I’ll challenge the dude to a pun-off right now, come at me bruh.” 

Pausing to look over at where Valencia was pouring drinks not even ten feet away, Gabe shot Stella a pleading please do not look, raising his voice significantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Stella, Valencia is the best manager a guy could ask for. So reasonable and cool and-” he cut himself off as the woman in question raised a middle finger in his direction- “-yep she hates me. Anyways.”

“The problem with that plan is that then if they actually do get together she’ll be at High Tides more, and he’ll be here more, and that’s more of both of them, which is the last thing I need. Can’t we find her a nice rich man who will sweep her away from this life instead?” Gabe joked back in a much lower tone. “That way we can get a manager who won’t get into screaming matches with Mel during the lunch rush?”

Georgie heard footsteps but assumed they were just passing by. When feet appeared in her peripheral she glanced up from the hood of her car. “Remember the rule: you can look but not touch. Ever.” 

Gabe looked up from where he’d been about ready to run his hands over the gorgeous purple painted hood, grinning. “Oh shit, hey Georgie. Is this the car you’re always talking about? Because your bragging is warranted.”

“I don’t like you,” Deacon started simply. “I don’t like your roommates. I don’t like your apartment.” A pause. “How many reasons do you want?” 

“Jeremiah.” Gabe gasped in a pained, whiny tone, lifting the hand he’d placed over his chest only to slap it back onto it with more force. “Jeremiah, you don’t mean that. My roommates are innocent doves. Lambs. Lamb-doves. Why do you push away everyone who cares about you? What did I ever do to make you hate me this way?”

Stella strolled into Old Mel’s with a purpose, not batting an eye as she head directly back to the kitchen. She didn’t work at Mel’s, obviously, nor was she allowed to be past the employees only swinging doors that led back into the dish and kitchen area (as she’d been told more than once by Mel’s daughter), but she knew the ninety-one year old proprietor of the old Italian joint would vouch for her if she were caught…again.

“Gabe leave already?” She asked Jeremiah, who looked up from what he was working on behind the line with an expression of displeasure. He shook his head silently, offering her a curt ‘bathroom’ before going back to work. Friendly, she thought in amusement, blowing Jeremiah a dramatic air kiss in replacement of a thanks before she head back out the double doors into the customer’s area of the quaint little diner. Gabe was already out of the bathroom, lingering by the bar when she spotted him in the near empty establishment. 

“Hey, dumbass,” She started as she approached, offering the man a toothy grin. “I brought you some Subway. Subway club. Provolone. Extra veggies, toasted. I know it’s not your order, but I was halfway through my sandwich before I remembered you existed, so–it’s my sandwich. Or half of it, I guess. Enjoy.” 

@gabe-wallace

It had been the shittiest day. One of those days when Mel’s daughter was even more high strung than usual, the truck order had been filled with the wrong kind of food, they were out of half of the ingredients for the diner’s top selling entrees, and so all the waiters were dealing with upset customers. He wanted to go home and relax, but more work was waiting for him there as well. 

Splashing water on his face and the back of his neck, Gabe sighed as he straightened up again, offering his reflection a set of a finger guns and a mental ‘you got this buddy’ before he came out of the door. He headed somewhat aimlessly towards the bar, hoping to sit for a few minutes before the dinner rush would start trickling in, only to be surprised as he heard Stella’s voice behind him. 

Wrapping his arms around her waist as she approached, Gabe smacked a kiss on the corner of her jaw, taking the half eaten sandwich with a smirk. “This is the kind of love and emotional support I wish everyone could find, thank you. So what was it that reminded you of my existence?”

“Am I–” Jonas grunted, his legs moving oddly behind his head as he tried to still himself. “Am I doing this shit right, or?” 

At the sound of his government given name, Deacon turned to find Wallace standing across the line from him. Effortlessly sliding the pizza cutter over the pie he’d just taken out of the oven without so much as looking up, Deacon offered back in a cool tone, “No.” 

Not surprising, but Gabe never passed up the opportunity to mess with Jeremiah; it was almost as fun as messing with Warren Porter, without the threat of bodily harm- and he got to do it while he made money. Letting his mouth fall open in mock hurt, Gabe clutched at his chest. “But why? It’s going to be fun.”

She expected another annoyed response. A eye roll. A scoff. A rude comeback. Instead, when he spoke, she smiled. “Uh, yeah, no problem.” Still biting into her sandwich, she lifted her butt and scooted over. “I think you’re the first person to ask me something nicely.”

“To be fair to those people, you are in a very narrow hallway.” Gabe said, holding out his hands in a ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ gesture. Tugging his laptop case out, he slung it over his shoulder before offering his hand. “It’s because you’re sitting in front of Ellison’s room, and he’s, well. I don’t want to say an asshole but some people might describe him that way. Not me, because I’ve never said a swear or talked shit on a professor a day in my life. But some might. Some. Not I though- remember that.”