☆Victims of Circumstance
Small drabble, not a RP Starter. I plan to write another Drabble today that doubles as a RP Starter. This drabble is like a build up of emotions for Dylan.
@howdycowpokes @cowboy-corvidae @just-a-lone-soul @petyabeloruski etc
Dylan wasn't really a jealous person. Least not lately; he was pretty grateful for what he had, ya know? He had brothers, he had a father that loved him, he had friends, had Chance, a place to go back to, affection if he wanted it. He should be happy. He was happy.
But listening to his old friend... it made him bitter. Made him... feel weird.
It was just supposed to be a simple run into town, get supplies for the cabin, get out, then head back ya know. But then he ran into Gunna, a old ruffian gang member that hadn't been one of the bad ones really. They believed him to be dead, so might as well catch up at the local saloon. Neither drank, but Gunna paid for his food.
Dylan decided to not go first in talking about his life and now he actually didn't wanna talk about it at all. He was slowly eating, his eye glaring at the plate like he wanted to smash it.
❝So I told him, i told him 'that'll be 30 dollars sir,' and what does he give me? 300! All because he mis heard and truly thought my work was worth that much! Wild right!❞
Dylan glanced up at him with a dull look, not even forcing a smile anymore. ❝...That's great.❞
❝I know right!?❞ The blonde haired boy laughed as he started to eat his own stuff again, looking around.
A painter. Gunna had become a painter, a upcoming famous one too. He showed dylan some of his doodles earlier too and Dylans rage just grew; why couldn't he draw like that? Why was gunnas handwriting good? Gunna also was in a happy relationship with con, starting over. Forgiving each other. Thinking of adopting. Con was getting to work at the mill.
Gunna didn't have scars, only one on his arm but he got that removed from some... surgery? Dylan didn't much understand it. Gunna had a gambling addiction too apparently back in the day, but he fought it and over came it. Dylan still struggled with not wanting to go back. Why did he get to be better? They had been in thr same gang, same crimes, why was this boy better?
He didn't meet the devil. He didn't get people killed. He didn't feel worthless or have to fight for his soul, for himself. He just... lived. And apparently thet was enough to get lucky. Why did he get to be lucky?
Soon it got to the point where Dylan couldn't listen anymore and he stood up, putting on a smile, though heavily forced. ❝My brothers waiting for me back home. It's been-... uh, really nice seeing you again gunna. I'm happy for you.❞ he forced the words out, his flowers curling into his chest.
Gunna frowned, looking up at him. ❝Wait, but I didn't hear about your life. How are you doing? You have a brother?❞ he seemes genuinely interested, he wanted to learn about the kids life.
But that stroked the ever growing fire. Dylan bit his tongue to not spit the words, 'why's it fuckin' matter to you? Huh? It ain't grand! I was beaten to death mlre times than once, I can't do shit, I lost every piece of me and my brother should toss me in a river and forget I ever existed because 'm a burden on everyone i come across! Fuck you!' And the worst part wad he could imagine Gunnas sad, pitiful sympathetic look.
❝Maybe some other time.❞ he mused calmly, searching in his pockets to pay the man back for the food. But he had nothing.
Gunna waved his hand dismissively. ❝It's on me like I said before, don't bother, seriously. We'll it was nice talking to you Dylan. Maybe next week?❞
❝Next week. Mhm.❞ dylan nodded with strain, turning around before he imagined something he'd feel ashamed for later. Why was Gunna so nice too... ❝Take care.❞ he didn't await a response, just stormed out, feeling tears of frusteration in his good eye and he hissed at himself. Gunna probably didn't get sensitive like this. Gunna probably was always happy.
Gunna probably didn't get angry.
Gunna probably didn't do stupid things.
Gunna probably didn't think of murder.


















