resist much, obey little

What’s my biggest fear? Easy. Ending up like my father.

You had to really know your own darkness, so the loneliness could not hurt.

It’s hard to be understood. That’s why, when you meet someone and understand each other, you want to hold on to it.

“Have you considered that the faster you stop being such a little bitch, the faster I’ll leave you the fuck alone? Because, believe me, I want nothing more right now,” she said a little bit louder, praying he was already at that point where loud sounds felt like someone was kicking his brain. She almost wished she was drunk with him so she wouldn’t have to deal with all the attitude he was giving her. Ridley let out a sharp breath when he escaped her grasp again, growing more annoyed by the second. If this was any indication of what dealing with a prepubescent teenager was, she knew she’d never be able to deal with a kid. “We haven’t in this apartment because 1. I’m seeing someone and 2. we’re over that. I might be a bitch, but you’re a fucking asshole and I can’t believe you just brought up Thomas. That was, like, six years ago. Are you still not over that?” She asked him, figuring she’d at least get a straight answer now that he was completely wasted. This was definitely not the way she expected her night to end, that was for sure. “Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” She scoffed, averting her eyes and muttering a string of curse words under her breath. This was the thing with them, they fought and turned into five years old in the process. It was so toxic and unhealthy, but it was just how they work. Granted, they hadn’t done this little dance in years, but it was clear they were still good at it. “I’m trying to get my act together, Nicky! I can’t go out and get wasted because alcohol clouds my judgement and when I have impaired judgement I’m a lot more likely to relapse. I know you’ve never wanted to admit I have a problem, but I’m a drug addict. I know it’s lame and I know I’m not as much fun as I used to be, but you need to get the fuck over it. If you can’t handle me like this, I’ll pack up my shit and get the fuck out of your apartment. Are we clear?” She asked him, her eyes fixated on him. As soon as the ultimatum left her mouth, she regretted it. He was pissed and drunk, she wouldn’t be surprised if he did kick her out. “I’m the same Ridley you know minus the drugs. I’m not acting like I give a shit, I do give a shit,” she corrected, getting back up and reaching for his arm. “Now, get the fuck up, I’m bringing you to your bed. If you stay on the floor, I’m walking to the bathroom and getting a bucket of cold water. Let’s see how much you like me then,” she threatened through gritted teeth, giving his arm a rough tug upwards.

“I’m not going to stop. Everybody else knows I’m scum of the earth, it’s about time you did too,” he growled, partially knowing he was insulting himself but also knowing that what he said was true. Any other time and he would’ve brushed such words off with a joke or offensive comment but that was no longer an option at this point. Anything he said was going to be as blunt as blunt could be; that much was certain. “How the fuck do you live with me and I still don’t know that?” His expression turned to stone, starting to become aware of just how distant they were from each other now. As much as sober him wished he could go back to when they first met, being inseparable best friends, severely intoxicated him knew that it would never be the same between them, no matter how much he tried or wished it would be. Perhaps being wasted made him wiser than he thought. “Either way, you’re just going to cheat on this ‘someone’ and fucking ruin everything anyway, so I guess it doesn’t matter,” he spat out, the words rolling off the tip of his tongue without any hesitation whatsoever. He hadn’t given a direct answer to her question, but the previous sentence would probably suffice. He thought he was over it, he really did. He had avoided Ridley for so long after it had happened that he had never imagined it would come to this conversation, but here they were, dueling it out once again. If there was one thing Nick was it was a grudge holder, but he really did think he had forgiven her. Then again, it was when he was drunk that underlying anger inside him came to surface, so maybe he wasn’t quite over it as much as he thought he was. He could pretend to forgive people all he wanted, but that didn’t mean he would ever forget. Ridley was yelling and his ears were starting to ring uncontrollably that he had trouble listening to what she was ranting off about, but he got the gist of it, or at least as much as to wrinkle his nose in disgust. His eyes shifted to look back at hers, and realizing that they showed anger, he only glared at her even more intensely than he had previously. “I don’t believe in ‘addicts.’ You either know how to have fun, or you don’t – and right now, you don’t.” He stated, tapping her nose with his index finger so nonchalantly it was almost as if he had completely forgotten about the screaming they had been doing just moments earlier. Beginning to feel himself about to pass out, his eyes went skyward, only refocusing when he felt a tug on his arm and leaned his other one against the back of the counter, unsure what was happening but lifting himself up from the floor anyway. When he realized Ridley was still there, he glared at her once more, though his eyes began to shift out of focus again. “Get out of here,” he groaned, but still tilted his head to rest on her shoulder, his eyes almost closing.

“—Seven hell’s! I feel like I have been hit by a train.”

“Why a train? Why not a bus, or a plane? Is there a certain mass of vehicle that you feel like you have been hit by?”

“Excuse me, – I assume your attention is needed elsewhere but would you fancy lending me a helping hand? Directions to be specific. In case you have yet to noticed, I’m still a bit out of my element here.”

“No, I didn’t really notice. I was too busy not caring. I’m not a tour guide, sweetheart. Go on one of those red bus tours if you want that.”

“Yeah, that’s one of my favorites at the moment. It’s supposed to embody the crisis in Syria from the perspective of the American 1%. A touch ironic. A bit tragic,” Clara shrugged, eyeing the art piece. “Art is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

Nick stood, anxiously tapping his foot as he waited for the girl he had called to show up; it was pretty much a booty call, so he really didn’t know why she wanted to meet in an art gallery of all places. Just looking at all the pieces made him want to fall asleep; photography was much more his forte. “Uh...” he started, turning his head to see some girl rambling off about something or other. “I don’t think funny is exactly the right word...”

“While I’m sure everything you’ve said within the last minute or so was of the uttermost importance; I regret to inform you that I caught nothing at all,” he admitted, eyes still glued to the case he was desperately trying to piece together.

“Uh dude, are you okay? I was just asking how to get out of this place.”

“I know enough. We might be but at least I get paid and I’m considered someone who contributes to society. I mean you don’t honestly plan to live off of daddy’s money for the rest of your life, do you? I suspect a lot of expensively unreliable cars in your future.”

“Well aren’t you all in the loop and shit. I contribute plenty to society. For example: I’m great in bed. What I will or won’t do is none of your business. At least I have money I can “live off of.” Ah, well shit, we got a fortune teller here. Here, why don’t you take five dollars, I’m sure you need it to pay your rent or whatever.”

“Not wanting it and not needing it are two different things, Nick. And either way I’d still care about you, you’re my brother, but fine. Don’t say that, I’m acting nothing like mom. It’s really sad that every single time that I tried to talk to you about this you always use that excuse. Unlike her I actually give a fuck. It was just an example, okay? Why won’t you just try and see? Yeah, sure, because sky diving is going to entertain you for the next twenty years. You don’t have to run away again. I like having you around, despite all the grey hairs you give me, I need you in New York. Because I hate to break it to you, but we won’t be in our twenties forever. And I’m afraid that if I don’t tell you anything you’ll just keep going like this. You can’t blame me for having a job. You do know you can approach me instead of approaching your ‘friends’ who don’t help you in anything in your life. Actually yes, that’s exactly what I would expect because she’s not your responsibility! She’s been doing this for years and it’s never enough with her. She’s never going to change. Gets what exactly, Nick? Come on, enlighten me. ” 

“I don’t want or need it, so there’s really no reason to continue arguing about this. I’m perfectly fine on my own; always have been. Yeah, that’s cause you do act like her, whether you want to believe me or not. Fine, I’ll give you that much. You just need to stop worrying though, alright? Try and see what? I don’t understand what you’re trying to get at here. Yeah, but maybe it will. I mean, you’re literally falling out of a sky. Gives me the best rush every time. I don’t run away... I just -- take a break from this city. I hate it here Liv, you know that. Everyone’s the same. Stop it. I’m not going to burden you with random shit that happens in my life, alright? You’re too good for that, you don’t need it. You don’t know her. Just gets.. who I am. Doesn’t try to change that.”

I guess that makes sense. I don’t know if I’d use the word appalled, but I was, and still am, surprised. Now that you mention it, the whole thing does seem like a huge coincidence. 

Why would that make sense? She should be telling me this sort of stuff. Yeah, maybe it is. He broke her heart, she wouldn’t go down that road again - would she?

“I’m so glad you’ve missed me too, Callaway. Do you talk to your sister that way?”

“I miss each and every Bass every single second of the day, don’t you know? Last time I checked my family wasn’t as twisted as yours so no, I don’t. You’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Are we talking about the same person? Because Ridley is an addict, do you understand that term or do you need me to simplify it for you? She has been an addict for years and every time she takes a step towards getting better, people like you pull her right back to where she started. I’m not going to let that happen again. And if you care at least a little bit about her, you will end your friendship with her, or whatever it is that you two have going on, because deep down, you know that being around people like you is toxic for her. She deserves better than that.” 

“Oh, enough with that. Just because she has fun (unlike some people) doesn’t make her an addict. People like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Fuck off, Mia. I know I’m just trash to you but that doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do. Plus, that’d be a little hard anyway considering she’s living with me. I’m not “toxic” - I’m a hoot. She certainly thinks more of me than she does of you considering she called me the day of her wedding.”

“Cheers.” Brooke openly laughed as they clinked glasses, throwing it back in one fluid motion. She vaguely remembered a time when taking shots was foreign to her and she had to do everything in her power not to gag as the liquid went down. Now, she welcomed the burn. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She turned to Nick as the bartender slid another round in front of them, the liquid coming dangerously close to spilling as he did so. She ran and finger around the rim of the small glass before picking it up. “So, you’re a fan of tequila. Any other fun facts I should know before I take another?” 

Picking up the other glass that the bartender had put in front of them, Nick had to think for a moment about her question, not only because he had to think of an answer but also because he was starting to get tipsy. However, him being as blunt as he was only required a couple of seconds before he looked over at her and grinned, showing all his teeth. “Yes, I like walks on the beach and Jack Daniels is another favourite. Also, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever head you laugh,” he answered, shrugging and downing the shot, the familiar and savoury burn returning once again. He hadn’t really known Brooke in High School, but that was probably because she had been the exact opposite of him; focused, determined, actually willing to work to get good grades.

“God, you really are wasted,” she said with a scoff. Sober Nick would’ve definitely picked up on that innuendo. Even reasonably wasted Nick would’ve. “Bath are disgusting. You’re supposed to be washing, not bathing in your own filth.” She knew he was just going to argue with whatever she said, so she might has well play along. Chances were it would take her at least an hour to finally get him into bed. She had to admit she liked him being drunk in their apartment better than alone in the street, though. She knew firsthand how much trouble he could get into when he was drunk and she didn’t want a call in the middle of the night from a jail cell. That’d be a lot worse than just taking off his shoes and getting him to go to sleep. “I’m perfectly chill. In fact, I was so chill a few minutes ago I was sleeping. But them some asshole barged in the living room and threw half the furniture on the floor – which, by the way, you’ll be picking up in the morning, no matter how hungover you are,” she snapped back, her nails digging into his arm harshly. As much as she cared for him, no one would put up with this kind of bullshit. She thought all the anger might’ve been directed at someone else and she just so happened to be there. This is what they did. They fought a lot and took out their anger on each other – or at least that’s what they used to do. After losing touch a little over the years and she got sober, they had been relatively civil to each other, but it still felt like they were holding back. Well, until now that is. “Don’t tell me to fuck off,” she said through gritted teeth, punching his shoulder. “Well, thank god for that seeing as we slept together more times than I can count.” She watched as opened the fridge’s door so hard half the content of it almost spilled out. “God, you’re a freaking mess,” she muttered, watching as he plopped down on the floor without even closing the fridge. Stepping over his legs, she shut the door and slid down on the cold surface until she was sitting next to him. “What do you mean what am I still doing here? I’m trying to get you into your bed. I can’t just let you sleep out here, that wouldn’t make me a very good friend.”

“You’re not chill. If you were chill, you would leave me the fuck alone,” he retorted, pretending not to hear her demand that followed the rest of that sentence. Right now, he figured this was his apartment and he could do whatever the hell he want. A part of him when he was sober would probably be thankful for her willingness to help, but right now there was not even a smidgen of that feeling within him. If he had been even a little less drunk, he probably would’ve recognized the deja vu in this situation; yelling at each other had always been something they were good at, sober or not. Most of the time not, however. Sucking his teeth as she grabbed onto his arm, his immediate reaction was to pull away immediately. He thought he was done with the violence, when this time her arm came in close contact with his shoulder, and his shoulder shifted back slightly as a result. “We haven’t in this apartment ‘cause you’re a bitch and cheated on me with that asshole Sparks, so that’s never happening again,” Nick shot back, entirely unaware of what it was he was saying. Whatever he said in his intoxicated state sometimes had some truth to it, but it was rarely ever anything he would say when he was sober. He was aware of how vicious he sounded, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care – all he wanted was food; that was until he decided his legs were tired. “Oh, shut up,” he rolled his eyes at her words, not even bothering to look up at her. All he wanted was to pass out on the floor somewhere, but that clearly wasn’t happening any time soon. “No, you’re terrible friend. If you were a good friend, you would’ve gone out with me tonight instead of being a loser and staying here,” he scoffed, shaking his head and finally lifting it up to look at her. “You’re not my Ridley. Now stop acting like you give a shit and go back to dreamland.” The pair had dealt with so many harsh words thrown at each other in the past that it was hardly new, and it seemed to come almost naturally to Nick. “I’ll sing you a lullaby, stranger, okay?” He still had an angry expression on his face, but it was starting to lessen, if only a little. With that last sentence, he started slurring some made up words with a melody that definitely wasn’t in tune. He wasn’t tone deaf, but considering his state and lack of skill he definitely wouldn’t be the next Beyoncé anytime soon.

Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.

“Sorry about the lights, I just didn’t want to step on broken glass or anything,” she muttered. Ridley knew Nick like the back of her hand. She knew he had a mean streak, especially when he got drunk, and she knew she’d have to get him to calm down tonight. Just as expected, he confirmed that in the first twenty seconds of them being together as he pulled his arm out of her grip suddenly. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes in annoyance, still half asleep and wanting to get back to her bed and her cat as quickly as possible. “You’re clearly not fine,” she said simply, stepping closer to him again and grabbing his arm with more force this time – which was probably still not enough to keep him standing up and get him into his bed. She still felt responsible for him despite having been away from him for such a long time. Truth was, she couldn’t even blame him for being pissed at her. She had broken whatever deal they had going on. They just worked better when they were both using or both sober. Their relationship stopped working as soon as just one of them was trying to get better. “What if I had been showering? You don’t want to join in on that,” she teased, pulling him up as best as she could. “I get that you just knocked your toe on something – I’m sure it hurt like a bitch – but I’m gonna need you to fucking chill,” she snapped back, grabbing both his arms and looking at him. “So, what’s it gonna be? Do you want to keep knocking everything down or are you gonna let me get you to your bed? I can even tuck you in and kiss you goodnight,” she added sarcastically, titling her head to the side. She hated that she couldn’t just let him pass out on the floor and go back to bed. For some reason, she felt responsible for him and could only hope he would return the favor if the roles were reversed. He had in the past, but things had been a bit awkward since she went cold-turkey.

“Showers are for pussies. Taking a fucking bath,” Nick retorted, not realizing how ridiculous his words sounded because he would argue with everything and anything he could as long as he was in this state. Groaning as she attempted to lift him up, Nick regretted coming home to this sober person already. If he hadn’t been acting like such a nuisance and downright dick at the bar he definitely could’ve gone home with someone, but that was definitely not an option at this point. Every shot he took he only became angrier, and that anger fueled a need to drink even more; it was a vicious and endless cycle. You’d think he was a High School student experimenting for the first time with the way he was acting, but it was actually anything but. Nick knew his limits all too well; he just preferred to surpass them to get rid of any aching feeling that he was forced to feel during the day – it was aggravating. A part of him wanted to start yelling at Ridley about anything he could think of, but knowing how annoyed she could get stopped him. If anything could halt his drunken stupor, it was knowing how in sync the two were, drunk or sober. Being the opposite of one another was an entirely different story, however. “You chill,” he replied, mumbling and slurring at the same time. His eyes met with the ground, his gaze still of anger and resentment even though he wasn’t looking at the person they were meant for. For a moment he didn’t pull away from her grasp, but he wasn’t really thinking about what she was saying, either. Instead, he was thinking about how many things in his apartment he could smash on the floor without his neighbours calling the cops. “Fuck off,” He finally spit out, his words more malicious than they were when he was sober. When he was sober he treating everything as a joke, but in this state it was the exact opposite. “You’re not my mother,” he spoke again, this time wriggling his arms out of her grasp and trying to walk past her. Whenever anyone started treating him like he couldn’t be responsible for himself, that was always the point where Nick would start relating them to his overbearing mother he preferred to avoid. Stumbling over to the kitchen area, Nick opened his fridge in an angry move of his hand, making the door nearly hit the wall. “What are you still doing here?” He turned around and glared before realizing that his legs were tired and plopping down on the floor, not even bothering to close the fridge before he did.