#And them being happy and healthy in a place where thier needs are met. and they dont have to be scared anymore.

[persy-r-bozo]

[victorianwestpiano]

Hi! How do you think Holt and Colette would be if the Spanish Influenza hadn't ended in 1919 but continued into 1920, after they'd met and started working together?

Dreamland 1920:

A lot of people thought that the Spanish Influenza would end on 1919, however, this pandemic lasted a little bit more than everyone had expected. All the plans were either cancelled or postponed and it wasn’t pleasing at all. Now, on 1920, the virus had made its way to New York city and the situation became critical, not as much as the countrysides or fields, but still.

The famous impresario VA Vandevere had just bought a flying baby elephant, who he thinks, it’ll bring his park joy through all this trouble. When he arrived at the circus where the animal is from on the first day, he, his driver and butler Sotheby, bodyguard Skellig and his principal star Colette Marchant, they were all wearing medical masks. Not a very fancy first impression but it was necessary, specially on that circus, since some members already died there.

The meeting with Max Medici, the owner of the circus, was quick but convincing, the ringmaster thought that, outside Dumbo’s future fame, moving his troupe would keep them safer, since the conditions in a city were better than in a field. After a few days, the Medici Bros.Circus moved to New York, not knowing what to expect.

Unfortunately, bad news did arrived after all at Dreamland; the Spanish Influenza dis reached the park and most of the workers became sick because of the epidemic, including the Medici truope. Max, Rongo, Puck, Miss Atlantis, Ivan, Catherine, Pramesh and his nephew Arav caught the virus and all of them stayed in one place at an appartment, so they won’t spread the flu. They stayed at Max’s appartment which fortunately, it was big enough for his friends, but the only ones who hadn’t became sick were Holt, Colette, Milly and Joe, so they stayed in Holt’s own appartment.

Mr Sotheby called a good doctor who VA trusted and went to see the sick workers. The doctor was called Dr Mendes and he suggested to Holt and Colette to help him by deliver the medicine to the troupe and changing the cold compresses, since they were the only ones of the bunch who were still healthy. And Holt was not going to risk his children’s health so he told the kids to stay inside, he was not going to loose them because of this illness… like the way he lost Annie.

The Stallion Star and The Queen of Heavens barely knew eachother, in fact since their first encounter they had a lot of disagreements and tease one another, however, in this situation they had to forget their differences and cooperate to help.

Dr Mendes gave Colette and Holt medic masks and ask them to wear them everytime they were near the patients, there were trays with all the medicine needed on a table.

“Put this masks on now,” Dr Mendes ordered, “use gloves too, is very important and take this trays to your friends, they’ll need this compresses.” the doctor looked directly at the cowboy to make sure he understood. “I’ll take this one to the other group of workers, call me if something happens.”

Holt and Colette nodded and the doctor went with the medicine for the local Dreamland workers. The french woman put her gloves on and tied up behind her head the mask, then she saw Holt who hasn’t put on his medical equipment yet.

“May I help you with that, cavalier?” Colette asked finishing tying her own mask.

Holt’s head turned to see her, “Thank you but… I can do it myself, princess. With a hand behind my back.” he said with pride without humor.

Colette rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Trés bien, do it yourself.” she waited for the cowboy to realize he was being ridiculous.

Holt grabbed his glove and leaned his head to his hand so he can put it on with the help of his mouth, but Colette interrupted him.

“Wait, no!  Are you an idiot?” she abruptally took Holt’s glove before it touched his lips. “You can’t put this thing in your mouth! Don’t you know there are already bacteria on this? You can also spread them with your own saliva, is gross!” the aerialist scoled the Kentucky rider. “Come on, give me your hand”

Holt rolled his own eyes, “I’m perfectly clean woman,” still, he obeyed and offered his hand and the french woman who placed the glove on his only hand, “just because I have one arm, it doesn’t make me a cripple---”

“Oui, oui, turn around you stoic.” Colette ignored Holt and with her index finger made a swirl as a sign for him to turn his back.

The cowboy sighed, his back facing her while she put the mask carefully in front of his mouth, then she started to form knot at the back of his head. “You are very proud, eh ma cherie?” Colette commented with a teasing tone, her voiced a little low due to the cloth of the mask she was wearing.

However, Holt wasn’t in the mood for joking around, he spun to see the french lady again when she finished tightening up the knot, “For some things I am proud woman, for others… not much.” Holt responded serious while his words pierced his mask wich gave him a nasal tone. “But thank you for the help...c’mon let’s deliver this stuff and get this over with.” he rapidly picked up a tray with his hand and went outside.

Colette made a puzzled look at him while he was leaving, nevertheless, she grabbed the other tray carefully and followed him.

                                          *************************  

Hours later, Colette and Holt finally ended thier duty, the Medici troupe were given water, new compresses and some cough syrup. The good news were that, because the troupe admitted early they had the symptoms, the doctor treated them in time and they were going to get better soon. The bad news this was a constant reminder for Holt that he could save his friends but not his wife, thing which hurted his heart. This whole Influenza situation left him numb and tired, he wanted this whole damn thing to end.

The cowbow walked through the hallway inside the hotel where he and his family were living, he stood still, leaning his back on a wall and slid down until he sat on the ground. He stepped on a finger of his glove with his boot, pulling his hand harshly to take it off. Once he managed to do that, Holt removed the mask of his face leaving it below his jaw. He leaned his head back and rested it on the wall, he closed his eyes and let out a big sigh.

Suddenly, Holt heard fotsteps coming towards him, he opened his eyes and saw Colette approaching him. “You are tired now, cavalier?” she responded leaning on the same wall as Holt.

“Please, leave me alone…” the ride exhaled.

“Why are you so serious? You should be happy, your friends are going to recover and your children are not sick.” the aerialist exclaimed with curiousity.

“I know that, but that is not reason to celebrate... not for me.” Holt bowed his head.

Colette rised an eyebrow and started to untie her medical mask. “What’s wrong Holt? Something tells me that there is something you are hiding.”

Holt turned his head again to see how the french aerialist joined him sitting on the floor, taking off her mask, she was smiling at him, maybe to give him confidence to talk.

“I lost somone I love because of this, and I couldn’t even be with her when... it happened.” the voice of the rider was scratchy and sorrowful.

“Who?” Colette looked at him concerned.

Holt took a deep breath, “My wife... Annie was her name...”

“Oh I’m so sorry,” Colette replied with genuine surprise and sadness. “When... did that happened?”

“An year ago,” Holt answered feeling a lump in his throat “I was away in the war while she... she... was dying Colette, and.... it was my foult.”

The french woman rised her eyebrow once more, “Wait, do not tell me you are blaming yourself of her death. Being away in the war or not... she could’ve still caught Influenza, mon amie.” she said softly.

“But I could’ve still be there!” Holt cried out loud. “Since they told me by letter that she died, it was like... losing air from my lungs. And my children... they where there watching her own mother die!! And I wasn’t there!!! I wasn’t there...” Holt’s shoulders were shaking and tears began to fall. “I’m not letting this fucking disease kill Milly and Joe, I won’t let that happen!” then, Holt’s voice broke and started to cry.

Colette could only watch him cry, they had known eachother for a few days but she always saw Holt as someone strong and stoic like she called him before, now she was seeing that man breaking down in tears because he lost the love of his life due to this horrible virus when he was far away from her. It wasn’t his fault, it was true, but who could not feel guilty not being beside their wife when she is saying her last words?

Colette gingerly placed her hand on the man’s shoulder and gently whispered to him, “I’m sorry for your loss. Holt, I really am. Shhh.” she tried to give him comfort “And I know how you feel, because... I also... lost someone I loved because of an illness.”

Hearing what she said, the cowboy slowly lifted his head and looked at the woman’s blue eyes. “You, you lost someone too?... Who was it?” he whimpered.

“My father.” the aerialist mournfully admitted, “But it wasn’t Influenza.”

“Oh,” Holt sniffed loudly. “For what... did he died?.“

“Cancer.” Colette inhaled deeply looking down.

Holt sighed and wipped away his tears to look better at the woman’s sad expression.

“I was only 15...my papa, was the head of the family, he was... the one who encouraged me to do trapeze...” Colette looked at the ceiling to try not to cry “and... I’ve suffered a lot when he died, I saw him having his last breath. My sister, my maman and I went through a lot of difficulties because of that. So, oui, everything went to hell for me too, you are not the only one, cherie.” she bit her lip, not wanting to cry as well.

Holt gulped, he deeply breathed to talk again normally, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to yell at you either.” he said regretful, “Is just... I’m so stressed out right now.” the rider passed his palm on his face.

“I accept your apology, ma cherie, it’s ok” Colette affirmed giving a small smile at him, her hand still caressing his right shoulder. “Will try to defeat this virus, everything will be fine from now, je te le promets.”

Holt gave her a confused look not understanding her mother language, “What did you said?”.

“ ’Je te le promets’, it means that I promise that everything will be fine” Colette said.

“Oh! Now I understand... uhmm thank you...” Holt responded.

“This surprises me of you amie, you went to fight in France in the war and you don’t know nothing of french.” the aerialist showed him a sideway smile.

“Well,” Holt scratched his head “the thing is at the battlefield we already had french guys as allies who spoke english or americans who knew french, so we have them as translators. We didn’t need to learn.” he said a tiny embarassed.

“Oh mon dieu, there is a lot you have to learn.” she said pretending to be insulted in a very exagerated way leaning her back on the wall, then she formed a teasing smile.

Holt couldn’t help but smile too, after the pain they both shared it was completely refreshing to try to have a moment of glee, at least a tiny one. Holt looked deeply into Colette’s eyes again, they were... beautiful, he never saw eyes so blue and so expressive, her smile was so genuine too... and her lips... those were the most cute lips he ever saw, they looked pretty without makeup. In fact, she, this woman, looked beautiful without makeup at all, he didn’t get why she had to wear those big red wigs and tons of makeup on her face. Holt always prefered women’s natural beauty, Annie never used half of the makeup Colette wore on the first day he saw her, and she still looked gorgeous. Colette is the same, the cowboy thought for himself, she’s a gorgeus woman indeed... Suddenly he shook his head at such idea and a tiny blush appeared on the tip of his ears, Did I really thought of that? But his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice.

“Mr Farrier, Miss Marchant,” Dr Mendes walked towards them, “Why are you not wearing your masks? It could be dangerous for you, put them on.” he ordered.

Colette and Holt rose up from the floor, the french woman tied up again her own mask whilst Holt put it on before his mouth again.

“Alright, look, I have to tell you something important.” Dr Mendes pointedly replied.

“What is it doc?” Holt talked through his medical mask, sighing.

“Some people of your circus troupe will get better soon, but others won’t be recovering as fast as the rest, the same happens with some of the park’s roustabouts.” the doctor told them.

“So, what does that mean?” Colette asked.

“Well, since you two, your kids Mr Farrier, and Mr Vandevere are the only ones who are not sick or don’t present any symptoms, the thing I ask of you is.... blood samples.” Dr Mendes said.

Holt’s eyes widened and eyebrows rose, “Blood samples? You mean taking blood from us?”

“Exactly,” the doctor affirmed, “I’ll need those samples so I can make an antydote for the patients with a more critical state,” then the doctor opened his firs aid kit and and grabbed something from the inside.

“Aaand, how are you going to do it doc?” Holt asked nervous.

“With this.” in the doctor’s hand there was a huge syrenge with a large needle in it he took from his kit.

At the simple sight of that needle, Holt’s pressure dropped, his knees felt weak and his whole body collapsed. He closed his eyes, he was about to faint into the ground.

“Holt!” but Colette caught him on time. His only arm was around her shoulders while she was carrying his dead weight, Colette grabbed him with all her strength, however, she quickly placed him against a wall. His body slid into the floor again, his head hunging down.

“Holt, please wake up mon dieu!!” Colette knelt and yelled while she was lightly slapping him in the face so he can get back his conciousness.

“Oh my God! I’ll bring him something for his pressure, I’ll be right back.” Dr Mendes left them so he can find what Holt needed for fainting.

Holt little by little started to react and mumbled with his mouth, “Don-don’t let th-that crazy doc-tor get near me-me....” he weakly said to Colette “I- I h-hate needles.”

But Colette rolled her eyes at his statement, “Come on Holt, get up, you are an adult. You are like almost 40 years old and you are afarid of a needle? Act like a grown up... Sacre bleu this is embarrassing!” she sighed indignant, trying to pick him up.

“Okay...I’m sorry.” Holt tried to get up, although he felt his head was still deezy. Because of that he lost his sence of balance when his foot slipped in the shiny floor when he tried to take his first step. When that happened, his body went forward to Colette, landing on her, he grabbed strongly her body, their noses brushed and their masks crushed into eachother,

Colette was frozen at such accident and stood there with eyes wide open. When Holt finally recovered his consciense he fixed his eyes on the french woman’s face, which it was closer than he could’ve expected. Once the cowboy realized in what kind of position he was, he felt Colette’s breath on his mouth, giving away the closeness of thir lips. If it weren’t for the masks, their mouths would’ve touched.. .they would’ve... kissed.

Both adults blushed red on their cheeks and abruptally moved away from eachother, not wanting to look the other’s eyes. Holt felt his collar tight and coughed a bit.

Colette did the same removing a strain of hair and place it behind her ear. “Trés bien!” she wanted the akwardness and the blush to fade away fast, “Let’s give him those samples now, oui?”

“Oui,” Holt nervously agreed, “but I can’t promise you that I won’t faint again, since I was a boy I was afraid of needles, woman....”

With that, Holt and Colette went to the doctor’s place, still not looking at eachother. The silence between them was uncomfortable, their blushes took their time to disappear and both their hearts were pounding uncontrollably.

But, fortunately, they were wearing masks on their moths, because none of them could saw that the other was smiling with pure sincerity and even... joy.

The End.

This was loooonger than I expected but still it was fun to do. Honestly it could’ve been better in my opinion but I’m satisfied with the result. Wow... so this is how it feels to respond an ask with a mini fic?.... This is great ;)

Thank you so much @vandeverefan for this ask, I had a lot of fun being creative with this!!!

[ducknotinarow]

[JellyBlitzo]  this is where we first met, isn’t it?

| Fluff sentence starters

"Uh they weren't kidding when they said the fucking place was a mess, just thought it was ya know some exaggeration but guess the fire spread further out" Blitz commented well smiling wide and bright over the fact Loo Loo Land had been pretty much put out of commish for an undetermined time. All the damage from the trip Stolas and I.M.P. took there some time ago had dealt a real number on the grounds. Rides were worked and going to need to be replaced or maintained depending on the damages themselves. Booths from games would need to be fully rebuilt as well as a replacement of the robofizz that worked in the knock-off theme park. Just a whole hell of a mess. And Blitz found himself grinding to each side of his face feeling pretty proud of all they managed to destroy.

"Hey we may have fucked up the job but fucking look how well we railed and destroyed this joint" his hands were on his hips as he looked it all over and took it in. "Can't tell ya the number of times I fantasized about burning this shit show to the ground" he soon snorted a little "And look I made it happen! ya know when they say you should make your dreams come true I thought it was all just bullshit about the dumb stuff like being happy, or finding healthy outlets for all your emotional turmoil" he then pretended to wipe a tear from his eye as he soon claps his hands together and rested his cheek to the back of one happily gazing at the disaster that was once Loo Loo Land. Sure not many would likely be celebrating such an act, and in part Blitz wouldn't normally either but he fucking hated this place. The time spent working here was not well even remotely close to being enjoyable. Constantly pushed aside for some hack robot left to sell balloons at a cart talents clearly were wasted. He strolls on into the park looking around at the damage "Kinda surprised you bring ya kid here instead of the real deal back in pride" now looking over his shoulder to Stolas, something about it was simply because thier daughter had so much fun at this theme park. Eh, the reasoning checked out he thought shrugging up his shoulders. Stolas was a massive dotting father was one of the tops. Blitz had to admit it was a very likable aspect of his boyfriend. Happy with the work they did to the place he was about ready to leave only coming here for a quick peek when he spotted that damn cart he worked with. "Of course, that fucking thing didn't burn down" He complained getting Stolas to turn and look now. But they seemed to change thier own tone when seeing the cart. Stolas took a few strides to reach it as they looked it over Blitz following behind, wondering what got to them just now? eh, maybe they saw something that reminded them of a past visit. He thought at first till see Stolas stop at the ballon cart and began to smile?

"this is where we first met, isn’t it?"

"where we first met? what shit are you on Jelly? I met you at your home when I was gunning for you book remember?" that was a lie actually the imp did meet Stolas before, back when he still worked at Loo Loo Land in fact. Just didn't think Stolas knew that. The owl simply laughed as he turned his head back and explained no he remembered coming to the theme park and the clown working this cart that day telling him jokes, following it up with how funny they were. Blitzo just stood there a bit well bewildered by that information just now. "You uh you remember that all? and knew I was the same imp?" even if Stolas had said as much Blitz couldn't quite wrap his mind around that. It was so long ago like lifetimes for Blitz at least but Stolas remembered? Of course, that added a bit to when Blitz went to seduce them and rob them. He ask about that all another time, right now he was averting his gaze to the ground and crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn't look the owl in the eye right now. It was such a stupid bit to get hung up over and yet? Stolas remembered him? What joke did he tell that day? Did Stolas remeber it even? Slightly peering up to them as they seemed to turn attention back his way now Blitz froze for just a second but soon it came to him. He swallowed thickly and lifted a hand to the back of his neck. "What do you call a goldfish that wears a bow tie?" watching Stolas's expression, it was an easy joke since a stand did offer pet fish likely to die within days of winning them. "soFishticated" Blitz soon answered with, watching how Stolas beak curled up and a chuckle escaped them. Damn it.

Damnt that fucking smile of theirs. Something about the way Stolas smiled, how Stolas really smiled that is. Was just perfect for him. "What do you call a factory that makes okay products?" he waited for Stolas to give it some thought before he gave the answer "A satisfactory." they laughed louder this time and Blitz found himself grinning back. Moving to jump up onto the cart bring him to eye level with the price now as he spoke up again. "I got a special on for you now Stols" Clearly his throat as he went for his next joke. "How does the moon cut his hair? Eclipse it." He watched Stolas' eyes widen a second as they got the pun and started to laugh even more. Stolas was just so honest with his laugh you could just tell that they truly found these stupid jokes to be funny. It's kind of warm Blitz to hear it as well. All that time spent being mocked back in his attempts to make it big as an entertainer, he just never could seem to make the cut. Seeing Fizz didn't help the fact he was pretty much everywhere at that? just a constant reminder of how he failed at a dream he once held. and then went on to crash and burn through life after that. But right now? he was standing on the old cart tasked with a job seen as not important to nail in where Blitz stood with the theme park. Yet now? Well now he was making his boyfriend split thier sides with his little act. Taking hold od Stolas' arm as he gave a firm tug to them. Letting them nearly fall into his hold, glad he stood on the cart to make it work as he moved his free arm to hold around them. "Fuck I love that damn laugh of yours" He admitted, for just a small moment of genuine softness between them before he leaned in and kissed their beak. "Stolas I love you, even if your taste in humor may not be the best."

[fraudulence-paradox]

4/24/16

Die young and save yourself.

    When I was in ninth grade, I listened to a lot of Brand New. I have a lot of specific memories of being an angst ridden teenager, sitting in the back of my mom’s green van as she drove me from place to place. I’d blast Brand New, and look out the car window. Rain hit the window and dripped down, my breath fogged the glass as my head leaned against it, and I listened to Brand New. My favorite song at the time was Quiet Things. I thought the lyrics were incredibly deep. “Keep that thought in your head, and keep your feet on the ground” Jesse sang to me. Now I think that’s probably one of the worst songs Brand New had to offer. Now as I listen to The Devil and God, or Deja, thier two best albums, I can really appreciate the lyrics.     At the time I’m writing this, I’m only 19, so I don’t pretend to be much deeper than I was only 4 years ago, when I was 15, but I at least feel that between my life experiences, and the hallucinogenic substances I’ve taken, I can think a little more intelligently than I could then.     I remember when I worked at Outback, I trained this guy. I don’t remember what his name was, but I remember a lot about him. I’ll call him I-----. I----- was just like me, and honestly, add a few more years to me, and I can very easily see myself becoming him. He was into psychedelics, telling me once about the time that he took acid 6 hours before his math class, and was asked to write on the whiteboard. He lived a pretty average life, went to a pretty average school, he had troubles dating, didn’t buy the JFK assassination explA--tions, but most of all, he was into Brand New.     It’s not uncommon to bond over music taste, but I don’t think since 2011 I’ve ever met anyone into Brand New. Kr---- is into Brand New now, but not when I told her about it around the same time. J--- can tolerate it as well, but I don’t think he shares the same appreciation for them as I do. I----- on the other hand, was extremely into them. We shared a lot of music taste actually. He had a Blink 182 tattoo on his left breast, which he showed me the day I donated blood.          “Damn, I can’t donate blood anymore”, he said, before showing me.      It doesn’t so much concern me that I’ll become like him because of these traits. A cool tattoo, and a healthy appreciation for early 2000’s emo is what makes you a successful young person, in my opinion. What concerns me is his negative traits. His drug use to be more specific. I don’t know if I worry that I’ll start using drugs as frequently as he did, but I think I worry more that my motivation will be as zapped as his always was. I remember one particular evening he came in, and was on his phone most of the night. He told me he was a bit buzzed, and that he was having issues with his girlfriend, so I thought myself to be an excellent friend when I didn’t mind him texting constantly during our shared shift, and covering for him while he went out to take smoke breaks. 

    Honestly, even this isn’t behavior that I would be concerned to share with him. At my current job, teaching kids Minecraft after school, while I was dating Tessa, I would frequently run to the bathroom to check my phone or stress-vape. In extreme moderation I don’t even really see this as a dangerous activity. But as my mother is so fond of saying, it’s a slippery slope.     One day at outback, I----- disappeared. I wasn’t sure where he went, and I was sad, because he was one of the only interesting people there who spoke english. A-- was a fantastic old El Salvadorian lady (almost all of the kitchen staff were El Salvadorian refugees) who trained me, and really took me under her wing. She taught me the majority of the Spanish relevant to working there. Basura, saboya, para acqui, para yavar, etc. She was sort of like the old hispanic grandmother I never had. She was constantly being hit on by the line chef, O---. The name O--- is short for something, but I’m not sure what. Once, when I asked A-- what O--- had said to her, before repeatedly smacking her ass, she misunderstood, and told me,       “O--- has 10 wives, and 7 childrens with all of them!”. I’m not sure if she meant to say he had 7 children total, or 70 between all his wives, but either way, O--- was a player. He was an absolute lunatic, but he was the best line chef outback ever had. I was told once the managers only tolerated him because he was essentially irreplaceable. I like to imagine back in El Salvador he was the Suis Chef of a 4 star restaurant, serving the aristocrats while secretly giving food to the rebels. Or maybe he hated himself for serving the wealthy of his country, but was trapped in his job making their steaks. That would at least explain the drinking. I remember one time, Ju--, the young assistant manager, came up behind O--- as he was putting the finishing touches on some fillet minion. He grabbed the plastic bottle propped above O---’s stove and took a deep smell, crinkling his nose. 

    “Whatcha got in here, O---?” he said.     “Water man.” Said O---, in his thick accent. Ju-- obviously didn’t believe him, but to prove either his virility or the water’s virginity, he snatched the bottle back and swallowed down all of its contents.     Ju-- was a cool guy as well. One time, while he was helping me at the salad station, the topic of drugs came up. He asked me if I’d ever tried weed, and I told him once, but it didn’t really effect me.     “You know, I’m like your manager, so I can’t really say you should try it again,” he said. “But you should definitely try it again”. Between him and R----, the other young assistant manager, it seemed weed was definitely the cool thing young adults did in their free time. I can’t really protest this notion, because at least in my own life that seems to be the case. R---- was identical to Ju--, just without Ju--’s glasses, beard, or hot waitress girlfriend. He was also a bit more of a “bro” than Ju-- was. What I mean by this is, Ju-- was a very cool, collected guy. He didn’t have to flaunt his confidence. Either because of R----’s lack of it, or excess of it, he did. R---- was loud, outgoing, and eventually became a waiter, which seemed to be the final resting place for people like him. Community college dropouts, with infective personalities. I was always rather put off by R----. Not because I didn’t like him, at least, I like him fine now. But at the time, his confidence and bombastic attitude were just too much for a minimum wage job where I had no upward prospects other than deep frier duty.     I guess this was the real appeal of I-----. Unlike his english speaking counterparts, Ju-- and R----, he was a lot more relaxed. He was laid back, but did his job most of the time. He was the kind of guy that these days I’d like to smoke a blunt with (I’m really mad I forgot his name, or I’d look him up on Facebook right now). This may have been because he didn’t have much in the looks department. At least, not at his age. I remember he had sort of a ratty look to him. Big, beady eyes, and a light mustache that he’d probably only shaved once the three months he worked there. He didn’t have the confidence of the bigger guys like Ju-- and R----, so he kept his composure and put all of his effort into being a nice kid. He seemed genuinely interested in my opinion, despite the fact that he was nearly 5 years my senior, and always had something interesting to talk about, like Brand New.     He was fired because of his terrible work ethic. I can’t really disagree with the managers on that one. Even when I was there to cover for him and push him along, he seemed to only do the work of half a person. Maybe because that’s what he was. He seemed like a really depressed guy, deep down. Maybe that’s why we got along so well. It definitely explains the interest in early 2000’s emo music. He told me he was going to Penn State, for a degree in communications. He was almost a senior and told me from day one he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do. He also told me that at this point all he knew was it wasn’t communications. But what could he do? He had already worked for this degree three and a half years. He couldn’t throw all that time and money away. I feel like I might be like him in this regard. Am I doing cyber because it’s what I want? Or am I just doing it to impress my dad. When I really think about it, I wish I could be doing something in the arts. I wish I could be a cartoonist, or an animator, maybe a photographer, and obviously as I’m writing this, I feel like I should be an author. No. I’m not doing it for my dad. I’m doing it for me. But not for my happiness, at least not in the short term, I’m doing it for the money. Everyone says don’t work for a job that doesn’t make you happy, but really, are a million people in something like data input services because it makes them happy? I don’t think so. I think that’s one of the big secrets of adulthood. You can be happy on the weekends, with the money you made the other 5/7ths of the week.     I----- was fired about a month before I quit. L---, the general manager, and proprietor (a word I picked up at Outback) told me in the weeks before I quit that he came back. He was totally drunk and slurred at her, “you have to give me my job back. You’re not allowed to just fire me. It isn’t fair”. They almost needed the police to get him out of the dining area. That was the last I ever heard from him. I gave him my number before he left, because he said he would send me a list of songs to listen to, but he never texted me. He’s just gone. Vanished back into the population of the world. This is what I’m most afraid of becoming. At first, an interesting guy, but underneath the layers of self-pity and substance abuse, a broken, sad person. Maybe he grew up. Maybe now he’s out there, being happy on the weekends, doing technical writing for some Japanese firm, using his communications degree. But I prefer to believe that somehow, through acid or magic, he transcended this world and lives in the lyrics of Brand New’s Soco Amaretto Lime:

“I’m gonna stay eighteen forever So it can stay like this forever And we’ll never miss a party, ‘Cause we’ll keep them going constantly

And we’ll never have to listen To anyone About anything

‘Cause when it’s all been done And it’s all been said We’re the coolest kids And we’ll take what we can get”