chameleon soul

Had Gunner been raised to be more socially aware, he probably would’ve realized that maybe he was being just a bit rude to Lana. He wasn’t always mean to her - in his head, at least. When they’d first started getting to know each other, he could admit he even had a small crush - she was beautiful, noticeably so, and far more patient with him than most people would be when he didn’t know the proper response to simple questions. However it took no time at all to become increasingly overwhelmed. He’d never been too good at handling himself around any Jane Doe in general, someone as eccentric as Lana all but had Gunner crawling out of his skin trying to keep up with her at every corner, “You don’t - I mean, you can breathe you know,” he assured her, brows furrowing in mild confusion when he noticed the way she’d gone stiff as a board unironically, “It’s fine. This is good. Thanks.” Lana bringing up Jack felt like dangerous territory. Hands clasped together and resting on the bar strapping them down, Gunner nodded once, as if that would suffice. Hoping it would suffice, if anything, but he should’ve figured that Lana wouldn’t realize the way he’d held his breath, suddenly the one stock still moments after her question, “Yeah, funny. I guess. And cool. You know him well? You should get to know him. We didn’t, like - he’s single and… whatever. You should get to know him,” he repeated, unable to keep himself from completely shoving his entire foot in his mouth as he continued with his somewhat panicked rambling, “You both kinda get around a lot so I say go for it,” Finally, that caused Gunner to physically cringe, turning his head completely away from Lana so he could mouth what the fuck into the open air beside him, clearing his throat in an attempt to recover, “Sorry, not - not that. I didn’t mean it like that, sorry. I just mean - he is cool and funny, so,” he felt a bit weird, offering up Jack to Lana like he was nothing more than a bone she was desperate to chew on. Not to mention the way his stomach shifted uncomfortably at the thought alone, cheeks flushing as he could just imagine how much Jack would love it if Lana made a pass at him, blurting out in the next moment, “Actually. Maybe not. I think he’s - Benji? Yes. Saw him earlier. You’re seeing him aren’t you? That’s… a way better choice. Benji’s the best and Jack drinks shitty beer. But yeah, came with him. Benji. I came - I showed up with Benji. Have you seen him yet?”

“Not that w--,” she’d been about to reply, cut short as Gunner marched on without any end in sight, arms intent in their metaphorical swing like he’d been trained that way via military. She might’ve been distracted by the image of him lifting a rigid salute to his temple and belting out “sir, yes, sir!”, if it weren’t for the fact that his next comment had her blinking, surprise undoubtedly obvious. “Um,” she began, unsure, a laugh bubbling out before she could think to bite her tongue. It was born from disbelief, more than anything. An awkward need to fill her own silence. “I was just, like... Honestly, I was just saying he’s funny, really. Wasn’t, like... unwrapping his dick from the foil like Woody Harrelson to a twinkie in Zombieland, or anything. But... yeah. He’s cool, so... Yeah.” Blinking a few more times for good measure, she turned to appraise the carnival once more, suddenly feeling like he’d be thankful if she averted her gaze. She wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, only that it felt like having your leg left as a mangled stump post tread on a piece of live ammunition. She’d been picturing the phantom twitch of a foot blasted clean when Benji’s name surfaced, a splash of cold water in the face of a sleeping drunk. It was like she’d forgotten she’d been the one to bring him up, in the first place, from the look on her face alone. “You came with him? Wait, like--... Like... on him, or...?” Struggling to process the way she’d misunderstood the information, she’d been half a second away from lifting her hands to massage at her temples, completely overwhelmed at the image alone, before his question cut her short, processed in delayed time. “You’re seeing him, aren’t you?” Her hands stilled in their drumming, clutching at the rail, instead. “Seeing him? Like... I mean, I have eyes. Is that--... I don’t--... Oh.” Clearly functioning at a minus rate, Lana couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh once it finally clicked into place. Finally made sense. Then, at the realisation she’d actually have to provide an answer, her amusement swiftly arrested and was pronounced dead on the operating table. “Wait, what’d--... Why’d you think that?” Eyes flitting to investigate his expression, genuine curiosity prompted her eyebrows to lift. She wasn’t offended, that much was obvious, but the state of her emotions was somewhat unreadable on the topic. Intrigued, possibly. That, and something else. A something else that she held close to her chest, the winning set of cards in a high stakes poker game. “Did he, like... say that, or...?”

“one would think someone named felix might have a little more respect for people, right, wasn’t he named after that one cat on tv or something?” levi said, frowning as if he’d been personally offended, though his memory was momentarily lapsing on who felix was for some reason. it was hot and humid and there were too many people at the queue, a kid shrieking somewhere at the front catching his attention. something about the lights and the horses going up and down rythmically felt overwhelming right now, having to glance away, a joke on the tip of his tongue before lana asked her question, pulling him straight out of the trance. “i — yeah,” he said, the whole radical honesty thing he’d been going through after the second half seth had slipped him seeming quite inconvenient right now. “think it could go away, if i like, moved to alaska and blocked him on all social media, you know, didn’t have to think of him for a whole five to six years, that might kill it all effectively,” he shrugged. it had been on his mind too much, he’d given this answer to himself so many times he didn’t even have to think about it. “honestly, i thought if i ever had to see — you know, if this ever actually happened, him and — i thought that might make me bitter enough to kill it, but it’s like having a pet cockroach that just won’t die no matter how much you step on it,” he added, frowning at his own metaphor as he glanced back up at her. “the idea is that you meet someone else, but it doesn’t feel like there is anyone else, you know? not that matters, i guess. it just — this has sucked so much it would feel stupid to actually do it again with someone else, right, don’t wanna end up with like, an immortal army of bugs that i can’t get rid of.”

If push came to shove, Leo figures he’d be able to spend every minute of every day talking to Lana about absolute nonsense. She was entertaining to a point where Leo was sometimes dumbfounded and impressed with the shit she came up with most of the time, willing to spend time with her more or less to pick her brain than anything else. He liked to think he had a good judge of character, growing a little attached to Lana in his own, private way. It made seeing her like this all the more difficult. Leo could’ve easily clung to her jokes and avoided the parts of the conversation that made her cry, but he still had some sick, morbid fascination with the story behind what really happened, “Oh - uh, yeah,” Leo was actually more than okay with shifting his body so he wasn’t so head-on with Lana, distracting himself momentarily with cutting up the lines on his phone. Working through emotions wasn’t something Leo had ever been good at on his own, let alone attempt to understand what the hell someone else was going through, “Didn’t mean to stare. If it makes you feel better you’re one of those girls that manage to look pretty even when they cry. Have you seen Jennifer Lawrence crying? The Loch Ness Monster quakes every time it happens,” Lifting the edge of his neon pink t-shirt, Leo used the bottom corner of a poorly etched purple heart to swipe across his nose, grossly wiping sweat off his face with a huff, “Felix?” he scoffed, sniffing once his shirt lowered again, “God, you shouldn’t listen to him. He’s, like, the biggest pussy I’ve ever met. Labia flapping left, right and centre whenever he enters the room. What’s he even know about the whole… thing. Lana,” Placing a hand over Lana’s knee, Leo leaned in a bit closer so that his words properly drilled home, lips pressed into a firm line, completely unimpressed with the news that Felix of all people felt the need to get involved, “his hair looks like a pineapple. And if we’re being completely honest here, I don’t think he knows where the clit is. Or what it even is. You’re seriously, like… totally above listening to a dumb fuck like that.” Returning to the blow scattered in neat lines across his phone, Leo tugged a dollar bill out of the front pocket of his jeans, nudging at Lana’s same knee with his elbow, “Never answered me. Want any? I’ll buy you a churro after. Actually, I’ll buy you three. So that I can eat the third one.”

More than grateful when he obliged in her request, Lana made an extra effort to swipe beneath either eye with the pad of her middle finger, pulling it down and rubbing her thumb to erase the smudgy evidence of mascara. Really, she ought to start wearing waterproof, with the week she was having. She felt like a freshly painted clown, all dolled up to perform at a child’s birthday party, setting foot outside the door and instantly getting engulfed by a sheet of torrential rain. Part of her was tempted to let out a sad honk like her nose had been squeezed, too, until she realised Leo wouldn’t understand the context of her internal dialogue. “Thanks,” she mumbled lamely, cheeks perking slightly with an attempt at a smile. She appreciated it, really, but she was finding it difficult to bounce back in the face of such overwhelming humiliation. That was, until his first comment about Felix had a laugh bursting up out of nowhere, startling her with all the intensity of a crow crashing head first against your bedroom window, sleep so disturbed that you sprung bolt upright. “Stop, I’m already hungry. Making me, um... Making me want a kebab.” It was perhaps the one of the grosser comparisons she’d ever made, but Lana had a habit of barely batting a lash through vulgarities. Most of the time, she hung out with boys, girls always tending to be the first to point a finger and snicker something behind their palms. Lana got it, though. It wasn’t like she didn’t fuel the fire. Pressing her lips into a line in a bid to contain her amusement, some part of her knowing that she still wasn’t quite over it, the corners squirmed with the urge to laugh again as he continued. “Can’t just, like... touch my knee, and talk about clits, like that,” she attempted to deflect with an unsteady breath of laughter, quick sniff seeing her grapple her composure into check. She didn’t really think it was possible, but Leo was that special brand of entertaining that made it difficult not to forget about the bad, even if it was just for a second or so. More than anything, she wanted to thank him properly, but doing so would mean acknowledging that she wasn’t okay in the first place. Instead, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Squared her shoulders a little. Slipped back into her usual role. “I’m just a Catholic choir boy trying to rehearse his solo. Making a bitch stray from holy union.” Eyes flitting towards the dollar bill in hand, she wet her lips and cleared her throat. “Um... Yeah, actually. Yeah, okay.” She was more susceptible than melted wax. “Coke, right? Could be lowkey disastrous. Last time I did two lines, I fucked Brooks straight after,” slipped out with a snort, before a hand flew up to dramatically clap across her mouth. “Oh, fuck.” Word vomit. She was infamous for it. Surprise at her own words muffled by her palm, she bit back a cackle of utter disbelief before looking at him, lips drawn and eyes completely serious. “You can’t, like... say that, okay? Meant to be a secret. God,” she exhaled, wholly exasperated. “Feel like I just accidentally shat on the carpet during story time. I’m such--... God, whatever. Churros, yeah,” she attempted to bluster past it, furiously nodding her head a few times in a row. “Maybe we should get five. Churros, I mean. Make a whole bouquet. Get them well done, so they’re dark and crispy like E.T.’s fingers. Yom, am I right?”

zeke: freudian slip

zeke: [...]

zeke: sorry im not really in the mood for like. anything i think

zeke: [...]

zeke: all i need right now is to see him go to prison. only a matter of time

zeke: [...]

zeke: it sucks everyone has something to say. they have to have an opinion

zeke: my dads pretending i was held for like. ransom. guess its not a good look if i get beaten to near death for fucking a gangsters girlfriend

zeke: idk. everyone just has to have afucking opinion

lana: it's ok

lana: [...]

lana: ya

lana: kind of feel like i wnt b able to sleep until i kno they have him

lana: keep jst staring at my ceiling like i'm expecting it 2 grow horns and blink at me. idk

lana: [...]

lana: he's not a gangster you know

lana: he's just got a trust fund n i guess bc of it he feels like he's entitled to everything. idk why

lana: [...]

lana: i think he played his role rly well n i think ppl still believe it. or not jst think like i know frm hw ppl r being with me bt. idk if i can blame them bc i believed it too lol

“It’s definitely not good,” Gunner continues, way too into the topic even though Jack had asked him how the remake of Child’s Play was almost 20 minutes ago now, “I appreciate that they were willing to… take a risk, I guess. Most remake’s these days are total shit, so they didn’t have much competition. God, I hope one of my classes next semester covers this. Feel like my brain’ll melt if -,” Stumbling over his own feet when Gunner was grabbed at by the elbow and tugged towards the Ferris wheel, he let out an embarrassing squawk as he attempted to right himself before completely tumbling over, “Shit. Rush hour -,” Blinking when he noticed Jack still standing by the front of the gate instead of beside Gunner, his gaze shifted so that he was finally taking in that it was Lana beside him now, nose wrinkling of its own accord at the realization, “Uh. No thanks,” he started, turning awkwardly so that he could make an exit before finding himself stuck on the Ferris wheel and forced into whatever Lana’s excessive version of small talk was. Apparently, it wasn’t Gunner’s lucky day, blocked from the exit by the person who’d tossed him towards their cart in the first place and shooing him towards the now open one waiting for them, “Jesus. Alright,” Flashing Lana a smile as he nudged in beside her that probably showed just how thrilled he was on be on, Gunner cleared his throat and mumbled a quick, “Uh, if you just - I don’t like when people rock these. Makes me all nervous and nauseous, so. Yeah.”

Letting out a delirious breath of laughter at Gunner's decline, acting like he’d been offered a mouldy cube of cheese to test at a supermarket, Lana set her hands against the railing and braced herself for what was inevitably going to be a painful experience -- like pulling teeth, if she wanted a proper conversation. Limbs struck with such an excess of energy that she couldn’t help but fidget, she’d slipped into an idle bounce of her foot, one leg slung over the other, that she didn’t even notice until he objected to the sway of motion. “...Oh,” she realised, straightening slightly and actually doing the opposite -- the cart jostled with the attempt to compose. “Oops. Sorry. Thrashing around like a shark’s eating me from the ass up, underwater. The sexy Jaws sequel no-one was prepared for.” Lips stuck with a grin that was extra wide, probably down to nerves, Lana cleared her throat and made an effort to remain as still as possible. In fact, she almost did too good of a job, managing to look like a waxwork celebrity from Madame Tussaud’s within seconds. “This, um... okay?” she tested, voice tentative, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of him as her head remained in place, adamant not to turn in case it prompted any kind of swing. It was completely ridiculous, but she was a little too high to comprehend how she was supposed to react. “Don’t want you to throw up, or anything.” Slipping into an idle hum below her breath, one that apparently followed no particular tune, she tapped her fingers against the rail beneath them, metal resounding with a few mute clangs. “Was that, um... Jack, you were with?” It was an attempt to start up some kind of friendly conversation, one that she didn’t realise was probably hideously misguided, for the eggshells it was crunching underfoot. “He’s cool. Pretty funny, and stuff. Kudos, on the company! Would salute you, but don’t wanna... swing the cart about again, so. Yeah.” Apologetic smile springing to action, her eyes flit elsewhere from his face, finally becoming a little less rigid as she investigated the lights of the carnival. “Did you come with him? Or, like... Benji, or someone?”

Benji laughed lightly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mad at you?” he asked, squeezing her hand. “I mean, I don’t really know how I’d feel if you had said my name.” Laughing again, he reached up with his free hand to press a delicate knuckle against her cheek, catching the glisten of a tear against his skin and pulling away. “I don’t think it’s fucked up. Process it how you need to,” he said with a shrug. He had a lot of strange ways of talking to himself in order to process things and he wasn’t about to stand in the way of that. “I’m not sure what I would have done if it was me, either.” It was hard to imagine something like that. “What do you want to do?” he asked. “Shower? Or a bath might be easier… Or we can just sleep.” Shrugging, Benji didn’t want to push her to do anything but he didn’t want her to think he needed any more explanation for her choices. “Or maybe the food… Since Zeke’s father rudely interrupted. Was that man, like… Was he really old?”

zeke: im into the pegging but im stopping you at roleplay

zeke: [...]

zeke: i dont know. not for a while if we do

zeke: not tryin to think about that honestly

zeke: gotta like. heal my brain first

zeke: didnt know u could bruise your brain

lana: oh? licks my pen nip and jots this dwn on my bucket list

lana: NIB not nip altho ig tht too

lana: [...]

lana: i'm here fr whatever u need ok? like i'll wheel u around wherever u want like forrest gump w lieutenant dan or i'll go to the store to get u whatever u want or just

lana: [...]

lana: idk everything i offer feels shitty n too small

lana: [...]

zeke: would have paid to see that tbh. bimbo flyin'!

zeke: [...]

zeke: ya whatever

zeke: he cares when it looks good

lana: oh

lana: [...]

lana: i can be ur new dad if u want. i'll wear a suit and a strap on

lana: [...]

lana: do u think

lana: sry accidentally sent tht too soon my hands r all over the place lately which is fun and fresh!

zeke: ya im in a hotel

zeke: [...]

zeke: i like the cop entourage too

zeke: did my dad harass you

zeke: think i calmed him down a little bit he was considering suing the city and i couldnt really work out what he was trying to gain from that

lana: oh? fancy

lana: [...]

lana: i met him ya

lana: only a little like he said i ws responsible bt i ws kind of jst like. fair enough!

lana: n he said sorry after so i didn't mind

lana: almost had benji flung out by the neck though

lana: [...]

Benji let her say everything she needed to without interrupting, nodding his head slowly as he took in her every word. He tried not to show a single reaction to what she had to say, refusing to make it more difficult for her. “Okay,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “Lana, I know – I know Zeke wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for that lie, but you didn’t throw those punches, right?” he continued. “You didn’t lay a hand on him. I’m sure you didn’t know all of that was going to happen.” Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “And – I mean, you gave him a different name because – You were trying to protect me, right?” he asked. “Your intentions were good, even if it wasn’t the best route to take. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you you chose the perfect option, but this is reality. You don’t get time to choose your own adventure and like… I mean, who’s to say what anyone else would have done in that same position?” Swallowing, he reached for a hand and squeezed it in his. “It was scary. It was fucking – It was a scary situation. But the only villain here was Danny. This isn’t your fault, Lana.” Benji knew that it was easy to hear these things, but accepting it was a different story. When you decide you’re responsible for something horrible, there isn’t anything someone could say that would make it feel any less so. It was a process and he only hoped his words would activate some sort of awareness in her mind. “Danny’s gonna go to prison. Not you. That should tell you everything.”

zeke: [...]

zeke: [...]

zeke: i have barely slept but considering someone who wants to kill me is still missing? no fucking wonder.

lana: [...]

lana: i keep calling in whenever i remember a new place he told me about that he might be

lana: think they're getting sick of me i've probably called like 32 times bt it beats jst lying awake in this shitty motel bed they've got me in so

lana: [...]

“I’m just looking for someone,” she said simply, eyes flitting over faces, all vaguely familiar but not the one she was looking for. Ruth sighed, turning back around to face Lana and shaking her head. “Nope,” she said. “I haven’t seen her anywhere, but I haven’t really been looking,” she replied, shrugging. “Think she’d appreciate a drink more, though. Does her personality wonders.”

“Who for? Maybe I’ve seen them,” Lana suggested, eyes flying to comb the crowd, too, as if she’d spot who it was without even being given a name, yet. Wrinkling her nose at Ruth’s response, she made a face like she’d been force fed a particularly sour wedge of lime, rind slick against her teeth with a potent suck. “Leah’s Leah,” was what she settled on, serotonin spiking enough that she didn’t have the will to kick up a fuss. “Not sure I’ve hung out with her when she’s, like... When we’re both fully sober, so. Yeah. Whomst knows, on that one! Can’t really give my verdict.” She paused, before clarifying. “You always fire out farts at your sister, like that? Yung Savage. Hold no prisoners, I guess.”

zeke: [...]

zeke: im not interested in a therapy session

lana: okay

lana: sorry

lana: [...]