— unfinished sympathy.

Holding a conversation was weird - he felt as if he hadn’t done it in ages. For the past year, he’d have mechanical conversations. ‘How are you?’ ‘Do you need anything?’ ‘Where can I donate to your family?’ ‘It’s okay to feel sad’ …he’d give them one-word responses and go about his day. He despised it. Having to form complete sentences with a witty response or two seemed so daunting and challenging - yet he attempted to because he felt as if Ezra deserved it. “See, if you want something done fast and efficiently you ask a lazy person. They’ll find faster ways of doing everything,” He chuckled. “Oh, thanks. I think it’s just like…one of those Biblical names™️ , you know? In the south, everyone has those. So…you like art, or only defacing property?”

Camila smiled, he was cute, she had to admit. She inhaled, then exhaled smoke, handing him the joint. “Well luckily, you ran into me.” she was high, but she wanted to be higher. She was in too deep and she knew it, but she just couldn’t care less. “Do you only smoke weed or are you into other shit?” she questioned, wondering if he would be down to snort a line, maybe buy some adderall.

He eagerly took the joint she had offered, looking forward to a temporary relief. “Does this make you my guardian angel now or something?” He laughed nonchalantly as he placed the joint between his lips and breathed in, holding it in the back of his throat before releasing it through his nose. “If it’s not smack, I’m game.” He said as he took another hit before passing it back.

her own eyes roll at his display of dramatics and she’s prepared for a proper comeback, but she’s much too distracted by his words. certainly, the statements sting but misconstrued words sound like compliments to her ears. “ — you’re saying you actually liked me ? “ she adds : “ as a person ? ” her voice sounds lighter, more vulnerable and damn it all to hell. you didn’t go showing weakness to people like ezra. if the spray paint or the cigarette smoke clinging to him like a second scent were indicators, he was not to be trusted.

but, damn, she’d had a lot to drink. her thoughts were so jumbled, she could no longer tell what she wanted to keep to herself and what she wanted to share. ( trick question : she never wanted to share anything ) .

she steps forward, immediately trying to recover from her temporary lapse of judgement. although, willingly conversing with ezra was a lapse of judgement in itself. a sneer is directed his way as she tests the unfamiliar weight of the can and gives it a shake. and then slowly, achingly slowly, the perfectionist attempts to fix the petal. “ it’s just you have to make each side is even. ” she’s nearly forgotten ezra’s even there. her attention is fixated.

however, the asshole becomes hard to forget when he’s insulting her. her hand shakes when she grips the can too tightly. she immediately quits painting and abruptly turns to face him. “ what the hell is your problem ? i haven’t done shit to you. ” hadn’t she heard those words before ? from others who’d begged her to leave them alone. how hypocritical. it sends a rush of frustration over her in a wave. “ i thought i could move on from the past, but you’re making it awful hard. ” she blinks back tears ( of anger ? of frustration ? sadness ? ) . “ well, fuck you. ” definitely anger.  she takes the spray can and ruins his stupid, ugly painting. 

ezra’s eyebrows knit together, purely out of confusion. he knows she’s had a few too many, but he didn’t think she was so far gone that she didn’t have a grasp on common sense. “i mean, i had to like you enough to date you. i don’t exactly do that with people i don’t like.” alright, he’ll give her this one, though. it’s hard to differentiate whether he liked someone or just merely put up with them, the subtleties were vague at best and perplexing at worst. to add on to that, his mood played a huge part. you’re honestly better off not putting yourself through that fucked up game of chance.

he watches in silence as she fixes the petal, arms folded, eyes narrowed. he’s not entirely sure what there is to fix, but it’s BRIELLE we’re talking about, so he lets her do whatever her heart pleases. “it still looks the same?” the last word comes out slightly elevated, more in the tone of a question than a statement.

if his conscious was somewhat moral, he would have realized sooner than now that perhaps he’d taken his words too far. but don’t let that convince you he feels apologetic -- because he doesn’t. he just feels that he should have been slightly less assertive, because if he knows drunk people and heightened emotions were synonymous. 

ezra needs to loosen up. that shot of jager might have calmed his nerves a little, but it sure as hell didn’t lessen his borderline abusive behavior. “you being here is enough to bother me. take a hint.” he seethes. she doesn’t deserve this, ezra is aware. but when he’s going through his mood swings, no one is safe from being on the receiving end of its harsh effects. brielle included, even if he did think ‘kindly’ of her at some point in time.

Jonah was well aware that he was weird - his days of being cool and popular were over. He knew from the moment he walked into his old high school and everyone just stared and chanted ‘sorry’ like a cult that his looks and football playing didn’t matter. He’d only ever be known as the boy who’s brother was missing. “Thanks. Sometimes being lazy is rewarding,” He let out a laugh before grinning. He felt like he was returning to some sort of semblance. “Jonah. Ezra’s a badass name, though, forreal. My name is boring.”    

Nadine stilled, her mind struggling between coming out with the truth or fabricate a lie. She was a connoisseur at dishonesty, a tool she meticulously sharpened along the way until lying had become an instinctive habit. But at that point, she was able to stop herself. Nadine shuffled and reshuffled the words inside her head, piecing together a safe answer that wouldn’t lead to anyone hurting. She convinced herself that it wasn’t a big deal – besides, when did Ezra ever care about her, anyway? He’s done it to her before, why should she feel so reluctant now?

Nonetheless, Nadine guiltily withdrew her hands from him, hugging herself instead. “Because,” she began, easing her features to look as smug as she can fake. “I’m here to fuck Noa and destroy Arabella’s stupid fucking fantasy of them ever getting together.” She scoffed, looking at anything but him. Nadine was the farthest thing from trying to hurt him, or punch back after all those weeks of him hooking up with other people. She wanted, for once, to stop their unhealthy cycle of bullshitting each other. And, in small part, she thought he might be the only one who could understand her. “I mean, she wanted me to be a whore, so I’m playing the part.”

Nadine stepped back, expecting something biting to come from him, not wanting any of the fight that might ensue. She couldn’t handle a Nadine and Ezra episode, not tonight. For some inexplicable reason, the fort she always effortlessly held felt too heavy. “Ezra, I…,” she paused, teeth digging on her lip. “You don’t have to lie to me – I know I’m the worst and this isn’t even half of the shit storm I’m capable of starting… You’re the first and probably the last person to ever hear this from me but I am sorry.”

And just like that, it was over. It was as if the metaphorical cloud they’d been on had dissipated, and they were back on land, facing the harsh reality. He’d figured this would happen. Perhaps he jinxed himself, foolishly hoping things would be better from here on out. But that was just fucking stupid of him to think. He got a solid five minutes of them being civil compared to the other thousand four hundred and forty in a day where they weren’t and suddenly thought their problems were out of sight and out of mind, a thing of the past, something they could move on from. 

Ezra couldn’t be hurt; he wasn’t allowed to be. But that didn’t stop that feeling in his chest. That didn’t stop him from distancing himself further away from her, running his hands through his hair, and letting out a frustrated sigh. Of course she didn’t come here to be with him. He wanted so badly to tell her that she didn’t have to be what other people wanted her to be. That she didn’t have to fit the mold of someone else. But instead: “Then what are you out here for? Go do what you came here to do.” His tone was aggressive, and he kept his eyes trained on anything but her out of fear his frustration would manifest in some form of vulnerability, and that was the last thing he needed. He didn’t want her to think that this was affecting him more than it was. A simple wave and keeping his back turned until she left would get his front across perfectly. 

He hadn’t known about Noa – or, at least suppressed it to the point that he didn’t let himself be aware out of jealousy. It was no secret that his and and Noa’s friendship was built on a rocky foundation. They may have been ‘friends’, but a normal conversation between them consisted of disagreements and borderline insulting each other; and it’s not like Ezra’s past fling with Arabella helped.

And then Nadine apologized. If anyone was supposed to apologize, it was Ezra. He was the furthest thing from innocent in this relationship, and if anything he should be the one to apologize. Everything she had dumped on him suddenly made it even harder for him to form words – to think – to look at her.  He was at a crossroads: was she being honest or was she just messing with him? He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and think that it was the former. Even if she was playing him, he didn’t care if it was her. For her, he’d put up with all of her shit – he just cared about her that much. “I’m sorry too, baby.” He contrasted his previous tone; this time softer in an extremely rare confession of guilt, his words shaking just as much as his uneven breaths. This time it’s all true. “You drive me crazy… but, I’m sorry. You deserve better than me in every single way.”

“excuse you, sir, i am a civilized human being.” she said, placing a hand on her chest as if she was offended by the notion. “if you hate this environment so much, why did you come? not to say that you shouldn’t have or anything, but you’re acting like it’s not your style.” arabella titled her head at his comment, squinting at her artwork. she crouched back down again, adding an angry face to the dog and a cigarette in it’s mouth. “there, i made it more edgy. it’s you!” 

Jonah didn’t read for entertainment and weird fantasy and mythological shit wasn’t his thing. He much preferred action and comedy. Things that had thin plots - it was easier to forget about life, easier to slip away in his mind. “I thought it was creative,” He shrugged. See - he was Spiderman, much like most teenagers his age, but he donned the ‘original’ Spiderman costume that Peter had made himself. The one that looked like shit and was essentially just a hoodie. “Ah, I’m not much of a book person. More of a numbers guy, letters - they uh, rearrange themselves.” He lied. He didn’t feel like being talked into reading. “I like the girls, can’t say I participate with much of anything else. I’m more of a wallflower I suppose…how ironic.” He let a small smile slip onto his face, pointing to the lotus flower on the wall.

“hey - wait, now it’s my turn!” she bounced off of the wall and walked to wear ezra carelessly threw the dented can, shaking whatever was left vigorously as she crouched down. arabella sprayed the blank area of the wall below, coughing a bit at the smell that filled her lungs while she spoke. “damn that sounds like the life. but no one’s forcing you to hide out here in the back.” the girl stepped back as she finished, a rough doodle of a dog now imprinted on brick. “then make it up to your standards! you’re denying everyone a hella good time.”

“wow i feel like i missed so much!” isabelle giggled as she walked into the location of the halloween party late, dressed as shego from kim possible. “what are you all up to right now?”

“Mm, no. You’re cuter. Those eyes could easily steal Leo’s throne as the 90’s heartthrob,” she mused. There was not a lot she held on to – when you grow up alone in a large penthouse in central Manhattan, supervised by strangers, and accompanied by foreign help, there was nothing to hold on to – but Nadine had a her hands clasped tightly around the game they liked to play. The flicker of hope he ignited with the way he handled her was, in large part, responsible for the unwillingness to let it drift away. It made her believe that, maybe, just maybe, someone could actually forgive her.

But it was foolish to hold on to an abstract concept. She was a devil child (as her mother constantly reminds her) and everything she touched crumbled into ashes. Someone’s – he was right. She was always ‘someone else’s’ to everyone. Nadine suddenly remembered why she was here in the first place. “Hey,” she says, her gaze falling. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?” As soon as she heard herself say it, Nadine guffawed. She needn’t wait for his answer to know what it was. “Don’t answer that.” She shook her head, trying to gain her composure. God, she thought, being vulnerable takes so much energy. “I’ve had seventeen years of practice. Alcohol is starting to taste like water to me. Oh, will you? What else can those fingers do?”

The moment was nice. If he could freeze it, and just stay here, he would. It was a rare occasion where they weren’t verbally attacking each other, or going out of their way to hurt the other. Ezra liked it. A normal, functioning relationship was a foreign concept to him, as he’s never had one. He spent his entire youth chasing after girls and making them cry ( not figuratively, either ). And sure, his parents could have been used as an example to show him what one looked like, but they’d have to be around for that to be possible. And as people in the medical field, that was very slim to none. He didn’t mind it, though. Not at all. The less they were around, the more money would be put into his bank account. The pros outweighed the cons. But all they left in their wake was an egocentric, drug dependent, materialistic douche bag for a son. 

It was wishful thinking, he knew. But he wanted them to make it. They were a colossal fucked up mess, but in a way, he liked that. He hated those cheesy lovey dovey couples that littered that hallways and subjected themselves and others to disgusting PDA. But he knows he could never put in the effort to make it work, and she didn’t seem all that interested in it either. His thoughts are washed away at her question, now replaced with utter confusion. “What? Where’s this coming from?” He was frowning then, not sure what to make of it. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you are.” He meant it. Even though he didn’t exactly treat her like she deserved the world, he didn’t think negatively about her in any shape or form. He was just an asshole. “Shit, I hear you. That jager I drank might as well have been nothing. Though that’s child’s play compared to your five shots. Get me alone and you’ll find out -- but I’m sure you’re quite informed.”

buzzed brielle couldn’t even manage making nice small talk. weren’t drunk people supposed to be more amicable and caring or something ? that’s how it was for her at least. add enough shots into the equation and brielle was kissing each of your cheeks like you’ve been best friends for years. clearly, she hadn’t drunk nearly enough. 

she still manages a light chuckle at ezra’s barbed response. “ it was a compliment okay. give me a break, i’m trying to be nice. ” but he wasn’t special. she was trying to ‘ play nice ’ with everyone. however, dedicating herself to a goal and actually following through were different things entirely. a perfectly plucked eyebrow arches. “ is that a challenge ? ” and buzzed brielle holds out a hand for the spray can, offering him back the disgusting cigarette in exchange.

“ if it’s not pleasant, you should stop. i’m working on that as well, ” she admits, the alcohol loosening her tongue. a huff. “ and you don’t have to join my club, i just want to make the fact known. ” it was merely a matter of voicing her opinion on everything she could, opposing people just for the thrill of the conflict. she was working on it. “ where’d that rule come from ? ” she gives a dignified sniff. “ i can talk to whomever i want, even if it is you. ” 

if brielle was going to stick around for a while, ezra was going to need more than just jager to get through this conversation. probably tequila, if he wanted to be specific. and if left to his own devices, he’d down the entire bottle just to be sure. 

he scoffed at her words, then made a grand display of expressing his disbelief: following up with an eye roll and an elongated sigh. “you? nice? those words don’t even belong in the same sentence, and you know it. i have no idea what’s gotten into you, but i think i liked you a whole lot more when you weren’t attempting this redemption arc or whatever.” he gratefully took the cigarette back and gave her the spray can. “knock yourself out.” he stepped aside to let her put her money where her mouth is, mumbling a “maybe even literally.” as he did.