obsolete & apathetic !

you  are  just  as  broken  as  i  am  ;  you’re  just  a  much  better  liar.

an indie FORTY QUINN of netflix’s YOU. written by bee (24, est, they/them). DUE TO CANON, THE FOLLOWING TRIGGERS WILL BE PRESENT ; c.sa (in reference to the past ; will never be played out ), murder / death / gore, stalking, codependence, rich privilege, substance abuse, parental abuse. everything will be tagged - - - but i recommend not following if any of these are triggering for you.

@gmpnt​​               FEAT.   FORTY   QUINN

with the sun warming the side of my face through wide window panes,     the smell of bacon sizzling in a greasy pan and the faint sound of my sibling messily shuffling in the guest room,   it all came together to paint a picture of absolute bliss.    a picture that would only fall together even better with you in it.    you,   will,   who had just woken up and thrown open your curtains like an invitation for only my peering eyes.   do you know that i can see you ?   that life had put our windows in each other’s direct line of sight like fate herself was   rooting for us ?   it’s a shame the naked eye could only see so far.   what i would give to watch as you maneuvered your way around your new flat.   did you make toast for breakfast like   the simple man   you are ?    or did you try your hand at something a little more complex,   a reflection of your   ever-learning   mind ?    oh how i wanted to peer into the gears of your brain and observe the way they turned.    was i crazy for having these thoughts when   we had only just met ?

❝   that new guy you hired,   ❞   even with my back turned to him and focused on the stove,   forty’s entrance was hard to miss.   my brother had a tendency to make his presence known,   impossible to ignore.    ❝   will ?   ❞   i ask as if i haven’t done my research.    problem was,   he was spotless.    poorly managed social media platforms and nothing else.    i knew from the start that he was a man of mystery,   saw something in him that i saw in myself,   something i never saw in anyone else.    so,   what was will bettelheim’s story ?    ❝   he’s not exactly like the guys you normally hire,   ❞   i say with as much nonchalance as i can muster.   i turn to place two plates on the kitchen island,   bacon,  eggs and a millennials undebatable favourite,   avocado toast.    with a fork i prod at my eggs.    this is the first time i’m keeping something from forty.   as exhilarating as a well kept secret often felt,   it was hard.    forty could read me too well.    ❝    where’d you find him ?   ❞   i muffle any hint of curiosity in my tone with a mouthful of scrambled eggs,   making sure to lock my eyes with his familiar ones.   i’ll admit,   skirting around the truth with my twin wasn’t me being   my most genuine,   authentic self   –   dottie and ray would be appalled.    but shoot me if i was trying to write my own story for myself.   without   forty playing director and producer.    

     at least he remembers how he wound up crashing in the guest bedroom ; when eyes open blearily and the ceiling above his head is not his own he didn’t have to spend several minutes trying to piece together how he came to be here instead of his own bed, get ready for the barrage of guilt-inducing worried looks and the way love holds her mouth - not pursed, not quite - when she wants to say something to him about his proclivities but knows it’ll just upset him. it’s nice. instead he slipped out of bed and into a pair of slippers and a robe he knew were stashed in the closet and padded out into the living space. the sight of his sister is met with a YAWN, the classic kind, arms stretching as he opens the fridge to rifle around and see what she has to drink. “good morning to you, too, lovey.” there’s no real acid in the words, muffled by the fact his head is nearly in the refrigerator as he nudges things this way and that until a bottle of juice of some green variety is found and pulled out. when he joins her at the island it’s with an open bottle of juice and eyes that are still this side of sleepy.

     𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ; 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 , 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬      —     gnashing his eyes , his face , his fingers     —     with an aspiration heugh will swear he saw , well past chewing if he didn’t mind that vicious mouth and feed it nimbly .  forty talks like every rich kid who has puffed up their chest to him in the midst of his social obligations , places he’d rather put off at the last minute , indulge in terra and bernie’s criticisms , and put his back to it to go home and be with the kids     (     ah , there they were again , he thinks     )     where he and they both knew he ought to be anyway . he won’t look at that for now , though . another thing or two they’d have to say , heugh’s sure .         he thanks the man behind the counter for his third bottle , delighted to see he’s taken the liberty of having it capped off when it finds him .     “     you take your drinks seriously .     “ 

that’s ‘cause forty IS every one of those rich kids , every terrible trait picked up from a lifetime of being CATERED to ; years of behind-the-back private school whispers , teachers who weren’t allowed to flunk him ‘cause of the GENEROUS DONATION THAT FUNDED THE FUCKING QUINN LIBRARY or whatever building the family had to pay to build to smooth over their sons latest fuck up. consequences? scarcely a passing thought. empty glass is nudged from hand to hand and he regards the bottle offered to his companion before nodding at it and then the bartender. a silent ONE OF THE SAME , THANKS.

I TRUST MY BROTHER,  I TRUST HIM WITH MY WHOLE LIFE,   and yet i spend the better half of my afternoon pacing around the living room aimlessly.   Joe had   half-heartedly   attempted to console me before rushing off to work,  but i don’t have the mental stamina to dwell on how my husband hurried out the door without kissing me goodbye.   i can’t stop the way my heart lurches when the door creaks open,   thank fucking god,   they’re back.   i contain myself in the kitchen to not discourage Forty with my haste,  i know he’s trying,  and i want him to know   i appreciate it.   despite the near heart attacks i got with every text.   Forty says ‘ don’t worry ’ and i know that’s code for   you-have-all-right-to-worry,  but the tension rolls easily off my shoulders when i spot my son sporting glasses too big for such a small nose bridge.

❝   looks like you two had   a blast,   ❞   i do my best to be as unbothered as possible when taking Henry from my brother.   i reiterate:   i trust my brother,  really,   i do,  i just missed my son.   is that so wrong ?   i bounce him on my hip,  making note of the pointed dryness of a baby who’d spent most of his day at the beach.   good work,  old sport.   ❝   technically,  you’re his   only   uncle,  so you’re at a pretty unfair advantage.   ❞   i adjust the sunglasses from falling off Henry’s nose with a fond smile.   ❝   besides getting cute nephew-uncle gear,  how did he feel about being on the sand ?   me and Joe haven’t really had the time to take him,  so thank you again.   ❞   i would’ve liked to experience my son’s first beach day,  but Joe and i have been   preoccupied as of late.

he sees it when he first rounds the corner , don’t think that he doesn’t love , the way she holds her shoulders a little too tight and the doe-like I’M WORRIED BUT DON’T WANT YOU TO REALIZE I’M WORRIED look in her eyes. forty’s gonna do her the favor of IGNORING IT - - - one of his BEST SKILLS AS OF LATE , ignoring things - - - most ‘cause it vanishes when she sees that her kid doesn’t have a scratch on him. figures HEY , she’s worried about her kid ‘cause that’s what a GOOD MOM does , and maybe he was fucked up six ways to sunday in anavrin that day when he said she wouldn’t be. MAYBE. maybe. forty flops into one of her pretty little kitchen island stools and pops his sunglasses up atop wind-tousled hair. he likes to think he’s a PRETTY GOOD BABYSITTER these days ; madre linda’s more the PRESCRIPTION PILL POPPING sort of place , he’s got no contacts here , and HEY , maybe the ACTUAL FUCKING REHAB CENTER he’d been sent to post anavrin breakdown by way of quinn money has stuck. or maybe GETTING FUCKING SHOT will do it. he’s still a bit sore about all that , really , wonders if love notices the new line of swim shirts and kaftans that have become regulars in forty’s closet to hide the scarring on his shoulder. at least it was through and through and they didn’t have to dig around in him to find a bullet.

     𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 . 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 , 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 . they’d already be asleep by the time he’d get there ; miles were still stacked between them . maybe it was just the drive he was putting off . it was , he tells himself . heugh could treat himself while he was at it , and believe it too .     “     is it ?? that how this works ??     “     maybe it was an attempt at calling it a draw . another pluck to the corners of his lips has him flirting with the deep dimples in his boy’s cheeks , another swallow of what’s left in his bottle drunk down .     “     you in the mood for something strong , or are you playing it safe tonight .     “ 

@gmpnt​   liked  for  a  starter.

    “   i’ve  heard  stories  about  you.   “ 

     𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐠𝐡'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ; 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 . high energy , it’s dismissed as just the byproduct of the few drinks that’s already been put away in the time it’d taken for them to intersect . heugh spectates from over his glass , coolly exchanging another glance with the bartender who seemed hardly nonplussed by the behavior .     “     i don’t like making people cry .     “     he supposes , then , that probably could qualify .     “     don’t know , won’t ever have to find out hopefully , god willing .     “