Percy sits slumped on the edge of his narrow dorm bed, the carnival lights still flickering behind his eyelids every time he blinks. His dress is wrinkled, his bow askew, and there’s powdered sugar smudged on his cheek from the funnel cake he never finished. The room is spinning...slowly at first, then all at once, like the Ferris wheel after too many turns.
He stares at the ceiling, one marry jane shoe dangling off his foot, the other lost somewhere under the bed. The taste of regret is thick in his mouth. He giggles, then hiccups, then sighs, the sound echoing off the walls.
“Wow,” he mutters, voice slurred and soft, “I really did it this time, didn’t I? Carnival of heartbreak and drugged funnel cakes, starring yours truly. Step right up, folks, watch Percy spiral in real time...tickets are free, but the emotional damage is permanent.”
He rolls over, burying his face in his pillow, then flips back up, eyes wide and glassy. “You know, I used to think the universe had a plan for me. Like, maybe I was meant for something grand, or at least… not this.” He gestures vaguely at the room, at himself, at the empty space where hope used to live.
He sits up, squinting at the wall as if expecting it to answer. “Is this what you wanted, mod? Huh? You happy now? You just love to see me suffer, don’t you? Classic. Torture your favorite character, make him cry, make him ramble about lakes and water and Vienna and-” He breaks off, laughing, then groans, flopping back down.
“Gods, I’m pathetic. I’m not even the main character. I’m just the flashback character who got picked for an rp blog because all the other characters were taken, and for little side quests you do for extra angst points.” He sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair.
He closes his eyes, his voice barely a whisper now. “…I think I’ll just lie here. And hope the mod gives me a break. Or at least a nap.”
He pulls the blanket over his head and mumbles, “…I swear, if I wake up in another angst arc, I’m suing.”
