hangout | dares club [pre-93rd]

[☢️]

Something about grandpa’s birthday being tomorrow is the last thing my dad says as I step out of the door. It can be a thought for tomorrow, today is the first time in awhile that all my friends’ schedules have aligned and we can all actually meet up. So, we have picked the best place for our monthly hangout and that is the form of the Dale’s diner. Soon I may as well call that place my third home, sometimes I can even smell the burgers on the grills and fryers in my dreams.

Everyone has been invited and nobody has bailed...yet. I suppose today should be the day that I mention the name Johnny, it was only a few days ago whenour lips connected for the first time but...I am already intruding on the club by inviting someone else along. Billie Baptiste, Avriel’s family. I think she may have been here nearly a year now and we have not really connected, though my excuse is quite evidential in all the rose plague lockdown messages that the Capitol demanded I show my face for.

A plus one to a hangout won’t harm, will it? Even though it is not Johnny...

I burst through the doors of the diner; the welcoming smell of greasy foods hits me first before I catch sight of Dale behind the counter. ”They are not making you work tonight are they? I thought it was your day off...” I find my usual barstool seat as it seems I am the first one here (or second if Dale is considered – but he is always here). ”I hope nobody minds but I invited Billie Baptiste over too, she seems nice.”

My feet swing back and forth as I wait for the others to step through the door. My friend’s have grown so much recently, all taking our own paths that collide now and then. Soon the Dare’s Club will be adults. Will we still find time for each other then?

Rave

[Deleted]

Heads I'll go, tails I'll skip.

...

Goddamn it.

The worst part of myself figured Flynn Garner becoming my friend was something of Avriel's doing. He and those pesky puppet strings, I can't help but wonder sometimes how he still tries to control everything from three districts away. I thought I'd feel more at home away from it all, starting at square one by myself, but all it's done is isolate me with all those terrible feelings. There was something in me that just hadn't died off yet - though, I hoped it was on its way out - that keeps 9 somewhere deep in my heart, not ready to be completely forgotten. 

If it weren't for Duke, though, I don't think I'd ever return home. District 6 was... nice, that much I'll admit. Massive, double in size that of the district I grew up in with people around every corner, my first impression was I'm going to fucking hate it here. Thankfully, I hadn't, not really. Trauma still knocks unnoticed on my apartment door, but sometimes I like to pretend I've lived here my whole life, mysterious single child with two doctor parents. 

Sure, I steal more than ever and have a much harder time staying clean, but I was learning I didn't like the world sober that much anyways. My vices aren't hurting anyone but myself, so I think that means they're fair game. 

Still, I convince myself to try today. Waking up at 2 p.m. on the couch with my work scrubs thrown across the floor, I clean myself up and don't even take a peak of what's waiting in my drug cabinet. I ignore my impulses and even grab my nice coat on the way out, as if I'm any kind of presentable with my fucked up hair. I keep convincing myself I can cut it myself, and then crying every time it comes out botched. 

Dale's diner comes into view and my first thought is to puke my guts up in their bathroom. Avriel spoke of it once, but the more tangible it becomes, the sicker I find myself feeling. These things shouldn't be real, I knew District 9 so well, it feels as if anything outside of it should just be some kind of fantasy. Even Flynn himself, I'll catch him around the hospital and rub the shit out of my eyes as I try to convince myself I was seeing things. It feels the same as I glance over myself in the mirror - a mistake. Nothing makes me hate myself quite like a good visual. 

How am I going to eat at all? I try to convince myself it's just nerves, to grab the bull by the horns and get out there- and so I do.

It's always easier when I shut down, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I dip out of the woman's restroom. Just be normal, instead of, y'know, whatever I am now. There's hardly anyone here, so I make myself comfortable shouting from the entry way, "oi, Flynn!" He must have come in while I was hiding - it's not too late to go back. Or to just straight up leave, though, I think I could use a friend at this point. 

All I've got at the moment's my reflection, and I'm starting not to like that bitch too much, either.  

"You'd never believe the hours they've got me working, they must think I'm a vampire or something," the joke lands flatter than the barstool I climb myself onto. Hope I'm not interrupting, I give an awkward wave to the man behind the counter, the smell of fry batter welcoming my appetite. "Can I get onion rings here?" That sounds like something I can stomach. At least it'd give me something to do with my hands. 

B    I    L    L    I    E

table by: z o e

[calla]

L U C A !
💥

They've got me working down in the lab full-time now and that's just fine. Gimme a robot over a man anyday right? Right ladies?? Haha.

I think I'm going insane.

Mad scientist to the max, three little burn marks along my index finger, I've spoken more words to a circuit board today than I have to a person all week. It's ridiculous. It's cringe. My work-life balance is nonexistent - at least I can recognize that! I had to cancel on Jodie the last time she wanted to hang out because I kept getting calls that the interns were tinkering and trying to blow up my projects.

Ridiculous little assholes. Little trust fund bitches.

You've never known pain until you've had Kyle #3 walk up in his EXY jersey and blazer combo and try to explain your own thesis to you.

Imagine trying to date in this fuckin' economy.

Baby, just take me out back and bury me in the junkyard.

I crash my way into Dale's and throw my arms up, collapse onto a stool, lord almighty life's so fuckin' hard sometimes but at least we have "MILKSHAKES!!"

I've been waiting for this all week - any treat is a treat when you've been living off instant soup packets and sesame seed bagel crusts.

Yell to the back: "Send over the biggest one you've got, pal."

Turn to Flynn: "That's a euphemism."

and holy SHIT: "BAPTISTE!?"

I know this girl. I point at her to get my point across. Point, haha, get it? Coolcoolcool so it's a coworker kind of lunch. No biggie, she's cute, I'm not gonna complain. Ignore the grease stain on my shirt Miss Billie, I'm sooo put together, I promise.

God I haven't been here in ages. Time kinda flies differently when you exist in a liminal space six days a week from seven to nine. And- now I. Am. Starving. Where the hell's the rest of the gang? I need someone to help bump up my cholesterol. Mama needs her chili fries.