#rant concluded

NOT WEIRD AT ALL, actually i've done quite a bit of thinking on this and my answer is yes after a VERY long time. (when i started writing this, i did NOT think it would get this long... OOPSIES)

i feel like fresh-out-of-the-trap adam would be a wreck. he'd go right back to his apartment and rot for weeks. he'd only leave the house to get necessities and the trips would take 20 minutes at most. he'd go right back home because he's terrified of leaving the house for too long. he doesn't want to come home and get ambushed by another pig mask.

eventually, and i mean MONTHS later, he'd start feeling more confident about leaving the house. of course, he wouldn't be perfect. he wouldn't be back to normal. but he'd be stable enough to spend more time out of his place. the most time he'd spend out of the house is an hour. anything more than that and he becomes an anxious wreck. as he gets out more and more, the inevitable happens, and he bumps into lawrence in person. it's the first time adam has seen somebody he knows like that in public and he freezes up. lawrence stares at him and adam has no idea how to react. does he say something? does he pretend he doesn't recognize him? does he run away? he looks like a statue and it raises immediate red flags to lawrence. he may not specialize in psychology or whatever but adam's exhibiting symptoms of PTSD and he clocks it immediately.

adam's practically blacked out as he walks back to his apartment, a slip of paper with lawrence's number in his pocket. it says "call me if you need me". adam doesn't know how to feel. his heart is in his stomach and his stomach is in his ass. he throws the paper on his counter, flops down on his couch, and sobs. he thought he was getting better. why did he react like THAT? he feels stupid, embarrassed, mortified - his body is outside but his soul is still stuck in that bathroom.

it takes him a while. he reaches out to lawrence, they meet up, have a long conversation about the trap. lawrence talks about his recovery. he talks about all the things that he's done to feel more like a person since the trap. adam thinks it's bullshit. he still feels some kind of resentment towards lawrence for leaving him there - plus, he has money, a family (that he knows of), a job - so how can lawrence understand how he feels? how can he give him advice? adam sits there, taking slow drags from his cigarette, nodding along. lawrence calls him out for not listening. adam sighs, complaining about how he doesn't get lawrence thinking they're equals after that night. lawrence escaped. lawrence wasn't rotting in a dirty, dark, decrepit bathroom for almost a week. lawrence didn't survive getting suffocated. lawrence grabs adam by the shoulder and it immediately shuts him up.

"listen," he starts. "i get you're mad at me. you have every right to be. i should've kept my promise and gone back to save you. but guess what? being mad at me isn't going to fix you. you can't fix yourself, either, adam. look at the bigger picture."

adam bites down on his lip. the bigger picture? what the fuck is he-

oh.

therapy was the last thing adam wanted to think about. he didn't like talking about his feelings. he'd grown up thinking that guys shouldn't be emotional, and therapy was all about getting in touch with his emotions. it was a huge turn off to him. the thought alone made him uncomfortable. he was too stubborn, too guarded.

"just hear me out, ok?"

adam runs his fingers through his hair.

"fuck, fine."

"trust me, adam. it's worth it."

lawrence slips him a business card - it's for somebody who works at the hospital he used to work at. it's nothing special, just a small white card with dark grey writing and a name with fancy doctor letters. adam picks up the card and fiddles it between his fingers. he feels stupid. he feels ridiculous. his stomach hurts and he doesn't understand why. his brain feels foggy and-

all of a sudden, he's home. the card is in his pocket and his hand is on the cold metal of his door knob. it takes him weeks. every time he tries to call the number on the back of the card, he pussies out. adam looks at the number, stares at it like he can burn the ink off and forget the number so he has an excuse not to call, but the way his fingers shake is telling. eventually, he calls. it's a sudden burst of "fuck, i need to do this" and he calls. he stutters into the phone and almost throws up when he hangs up. but at least he has an appointment...

“Are you friendly?!”

“Honey you need to smile more.”

Ughhesd. I’m sorry that I don’t enjoy every second of my minimum wage food service job. I’m sorry that my down-turned mouth offends you so much! Sooooo sorry that I not a super bubbly person.

Write more men as ‘femme fatales’. Have Men swinging around above a wild audience singing diamonds are a girls best friend showing a little skin, unashamedly, having fun. Write more men who have their eyes opened by their love interests ir friends, and not in the, you’ve changed my world view with your sex way, but the, ‘I was shy and uncertain but you showed me a genuinely good time and i want more of that with you’. Write male characters who aren’t afraid to be a little soft. Have male characters with poor body image who, with the help of loving friends, finds an image that they feel comfortable in. Hell, make the male the manic pixie dream girl or the black widow.