oh, lumiere.

“Yeah.. Clearly..” Quentin said wistfully, as his thoughts traveled to long ago, and before long he was lost in painful thought.

“Yo, let’s not think about them anymore, okay? They don’t matter. Look, you’ve got me, now. I’m your friend. I’m so cute and I love you. That’s all that matters, Quentin.”

“I don’t know what a Slim James is, and I very likely don’t want to know.”

“My god, this is sad. It’s a stick of dried meat. I’ve had all different flavors: nacho, pepperoni -- I can’t believe you’ve never heard of them before. I’ve been to your place, so I know you don’t live under a rock.”

“I tend to avoid most local restaurants, unless they have four star ratings. That way, I know if they’re worth my time.”

“Wow.” Fiona snorted. “What a snob. I bet you’ve never bought Slim Jim’s at a gas station, either.”

“Worse things have happened to me to make people laugh.” Quentin winced. “As morbid as that sounds.”

“Anyone who’s laughed at your pain is clearly a sadistic jerk who isn’t worth your time.”

“You and I have distinct tastes that most likely don’t agree. And I’ve never been to this.. Chili’s.”

“Delicious is kinda an overstatement, honestly. But I can fuck with it. Wha -- how the hell have you never been to Chili’s? It’s just, like, Tex-Mex. Clearly, not as good as my mom’s traditional Mexican recipes, but my mom isn’t here.”

“I better punch myself. Or pinch myself. Whichever one will help me wake up from this awesome dream.”

“As funny as it would be to see someone actually punch themselves, please don’t punch yourself, Quen.”

“I’m just not the type to normally have friends.” Quentin shrugged, laughing weakly. “Assholes or not.”

“Well, that’s changed and now you got a couple of them. And we like you. Real life character development. Or something like that.”

“I’m glad I have a couple of those. It’d be hell if I didn’t.”

“You’re right. And we’re all gonna be here for you. We’re not leaving. At least, I’m not. I don’t know, your other friends might be assholes, but they’re probably not. You don’t seem like someone who’d hang around assholes.”

Frost blinked. “…why?”

“Well, why not? Chili’s is delicious.”

“Take your time.”

“Oh, I know! Let’s go to Chili’s.”

“I’d like to think I only make good calls. Will there be anything else, miss Noir?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t be to sure about that. You’ve got to have fucked up sometime. Not right now, but give me a second to think of something.”

Quentin smiled, albeit half-heartedly. “You’re right, I would’ve.” He said weakly, before coming back down to collapse on the couch.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, Quentin. I promise. I’m not gonna let this suck for you forever, alright? We’re friends.”

“I’d rather I didn’t know what you mean.”

“That’s a good call, sir.”

“I’ll have you know, I can nap whenever I please.” Frost sniffed, with the slightest air of amusement. “Hard liquor is also at hand. Off the clock, of course.”

“Ha-ha, Frosty the Snowman. You’re so clever. You know what I meant.”

“You can provide none of these things, so stating my need of them is tediously unnecessary.” Frost sneered, as he collected his papers together into his briefcase. “And I don’t care if your digital monster is prowling about in here. If I find it, I’ll dispose of it myself. Out.”

“That’s true, I guess. And only two out of those three things would be at all possible for you, so I should have only listed two of them, anyway.” She replied as she caught a Psyduck in Frost’s office. “Got ‘em.”

“It was really nice. Especially in the summer time when we’d get hot dogs and cracker jack and all of that. Anyways. I’m really sorry about your brother. Sean is your brother, right? I’ve heard that hurting that can be really bad and stuff. He still plays? Wow. He must be tough.”

“I’ve literally never had cracker jack, but they’re always singing about it at those games. It’s Seb, actually. His name’s Sebastian, but when we were little, I teased him and told him that my parents named him after a crab. And that we were gonna eat him. He hates being called by his full first name, now. Ah, I don’t know about ‘tough’. Stupid, yeah. Anyone who plays football has a death wish, I’m sure of it. Especially after being injured by it already.”