I’ll end the suspense, Jason Dean, J.D for short

Greetings and Salutations, you want a slurpee with that? Probably at 7-Eleven Veronica💙 Heathers the Musical fictionkin/writing/rp blog

[explosiveslurpeelover]

Greetings and salutations,

I suppose you've likely come over here with the expectation to introduce yourself to me or for me to introduce myself to you in the pursuit of becoming friends. I would not advise expecting much of an introduction from me personally. I find introductions are superfluous fluff and an unworthwhile venture.

While I imagine it's not everyday for a town like Sherwood, Ohio to have a new kid from out of state I don't expect to stay here for too long. My dad's work keeps me busy and perpetually on the road these days. He owns a deconstruction company, you ever seen the commercial? "I'm Big Bud Dean, if it's in your way I'll make your day!" That's my old man, alright. The old semi-psychotic in all his toxic glory...

Didn't catch my name? I didn't throw it...

You won't need to know it though, trust me. I'll be out of here in six weeks and you won't remember me at all as I am unlikely to remember you either. I don't bother to remember the names and faces of people I meet as l've learned that everyone from state to state is equally as uninteresting and cruel as the last person. l've been through 10 high schools now and the only thing that ever seems to change at all is the coat of paint on top of it. Nobody stands out. Underneath it all everyone is the exact same just wearing different faces to mask their obvious cruelty and stupidity. I've grown numb to the prospect of human connection as the world and its people aren't really worth all that much if I'm being honest with you.

But, I'll end your suspense: Jason Dean, "J.D." for short.

Though don't expect to get too used to hearing from me still. I intend to keep my head down in a book and shatter my skull with brain freezes at the local 7-Eleven for the duration of my time in Sherwood, not interact with its student body or people like you. Take as much offense in that fact as you want. I don’t really care what you do with your life in that regard.

(ADMIN/RP INFO!)

(ABOUT J.D.)

(NAVIGATION/RP MASTERPOST!)

Divider credits: @/sweetmelodygraphics!

[explosiveslurpeelover]

why are you gay

You know, I suppose that is a rather astute question to be asking. Why am I gay? Seeing as Westerberg is very rarely a particularly pleasant place to be, definitely not a place either of us would choose to be unless forced by the school system to attend, I’m guessing I’m feeling jovial and gay on this rare occasion for reasons outside of our sudden school environment. It certainly must be a queer sight to see me in a more enjoyable mood for once. Though what is our student body if not often too queer to comprehend much less encapsulate in the first place? I know I personally find them all to be undoubtedly queer to witness if I’m being honest with you. Given how they all speak about me it wouldn’t surprise me to learn they all feel the same about me too…

Really? How original of you…If you’re going to take shots at me for who I am and how I look, fine! But don’t be surprised when I’m somehow both unamused and unimpressed by your personal lack of creative thinking skills to conjure up better insults in your mind to use against me in this insult war you decided to wage on me. Call me more of a creativity man myself. Revenge should be as artistic as it is biting. Calling me “gay” in the grand scheme of life does very little damage to you, me, or the society that has convinced us all that individualism, inclusion, and tolerance are inherently undesirable or dangerous ideals to strive for in the end.

Now let’s talk about that instead. Let’s have a real conversation. Our minds are predisposed to vilify what they don’t understand and is unfamiliar to them. It’s why we avoid strangers, why people such as yourself use slurs as opposed to far kinder words to define groups of people who are decent if difficult to truly put a label on. Your distinct lack of sharpness isn’t the problem here, the inherent bigotry in our heads is. But, not only that our society was built around labels, on standing out by fitting into what’s expected of you. We only include what the masses consider acceptable and we’re only tolerant of what we inherently understand but remain forever unopen to ever expanding our horizons further.

I would ask you if that bothers you as much as it does me, but I’m under the impression and expectation that it doesn’t. Because if it did then you wouldn’t have walked up to me to call me something I’m not instead of getting to know me for what I am…I’m always acutely aware that not everyone else in mankind thinks about things the way I do. That is, if they think about things at all outside of the bare minimum of what they must to live another day.

Oh, well. To each their own.

I however, want a little more out of life than being asked why I am gay when I clearly am not gay given the fact I have a girlfriend I adore in Veronica. Even before you started your allegation had already been thoroughly debunked. Even so, I’ll set the record straight and tell you that I’m not and even if I was? It still really wouldn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything about your life or mine in the slightest. You’ll still be the same simple minded person you were before you asked me that question regardless of how I answer it. Nothing I could ever say to you on the matter will ever change your perception, what you’ve already decided about me without any evidence or knowledge of me as a person or preferences.

Your insistence on prying is not appreciated by me in the slightest…

[explosiveslurpeelover]

Huh, and so I see…Though I appreciate a fellow hamster enjoyer myself I don’t particularly see where the correlation between “my hamster” and being “stinky” as you insist in saying there is remains. It’s clear to me you’ve likely never met nor have ever taken care of a hamster yourself and are merely making an out of bounds assumption due to the nature of how the animal looks. Not a very nice assumption indeed…If you had ever actually had a pet hamster before then you’d known that hamsters are rather clean animals, often grooming themselves and rarely needing to be bathed, unlike a lot of other pets most people seem to adore and obsess over far more.

Well, if that’s true I’m guessing you’re now thinking to yourself: “Then what is that smell in the air?” “That putrid odor coming from the nearby cage?” That smell you’re thinking of and accusing your pet in question of is likely coming from that cage you strangely and distinctly haven’t been cleaning as much as usual lately. If only that animal of yours had an responsible owner such as myself to go on and clean up after it…You know, if you cleaned up after your hamster yourself you wouldn’t have to smell that odor you’re blaming the hamster for when you’re clearly the one to blame in the first place. Not only that, but not cleaning a hamster’s cage can be rather unhealthy for the hamster too. You would know that if you actually knew what you were doing with a hamster that is. Unless you enjoy your pet living in a suffering of your own making. That wouldn’t surprise me necessarily seeing how other people are. People can be unnecessarily vile to innocent creatures. At least my own hamster is actually being well taken care of by someone who knows what they are doing unlike your alleged pet is.

Besides, a hamster at its most unpleasant to smell I would still deem leagues ahead of what the average football player or Westerberg High teenager at large smells like. You can practically smell the testosterone and lack of cleanliness and hygiene from outside the school these days. Is it considered some type of power move to smell so bad? Maybe your stench can blind people from how worthless you are underneath all that stench? You won’t be made to take the weekly pop quiz if your smell sends the teacher to the emergency room from how truly radioactive it is? Or even, it could be used as a power play in of itself to finish off the competition just from how bad that armpit is. Either way, I say the school could do with more shower users. Certainly seems like I’m the only guy around here who doesn’t require some type of gas mask to be around. At least hamster actually take it upon themselves to smell nice, unlike the worst parts of humanity do.

Now girls on the other hand, as vain as they are have the opposite problem entirely. Our society turns out a beauty standard that requires girls to smell sickeningly sweet to be considered of value in our world. A facade of beauty to hide the underlying ugliness beneath the surface. While the perfume is more pleasant to the nose I could still really do without so much of it personally. I shouldn’t be able to smell artificial rose or peach every time the Heathers trot on by to bring about their typical despair on our classmates. I image Veronica knows more about that kind of stuff than me. The girl world as it was both escapes and disinterests me. But, even I can tell she at least picked her own signature fragrance of choice well…

[explosiveslurpeelover]

recently my 7/11 has had weak slurpees AND sour blue raspberry being out of order

(cant have favourite flavour AND weak slurpee means to warm for brain freeze to last longer than 10 seconds)

what should i so?

And here I thought I was having a bad day. It’s not every day one meets a fellow appreciator of the true joys in life with a taste for the thrilling and sweet frozen rushes it gives us. Can’t say I can’t relate to your plight. There are few disappointments in life quite like an unsatisfactory Slurpee on an especially dreadful day. The syrup not being as sweet as it should be, the texture consistency being far too much of a juice as opposed to a slush, the Slurpee itself simply not being cold enough to elicit a strong enough jolt of freeze to your skull. All of these things and more can lead to a lack of satisfaction for the taste buds among other things. And that’s nowhere near as miserable as your favorite flavor being out of order in my experience. It’s as if the world itself is trying to rain on your icy parade by insisting you must stay warm when all you want to be is cold. How are we expected to find comfort and salvation from our society in these unwanted conditions?

Though that’s not to say there aren’t some forms of alternatives to be found. In other instances you could always tire for another flavor as I often do; however that doesn’t look to be the only problem in your particular case. I suppose if you’re lucky you could always find a more enthralling hit at a different 7-Eleven outside of your one of choice. While I’ve been living in Sherwood for about a month now I’m unaware of how many 7-Elevens there actually are in town. I don’t believe there’s more than one, which I find a bit peculiar for a town of its size if I’m being honest. But, who knows. Ohio could surprise me, it just seems unlikely to. There are also other brands of slushie you could try, even if they don’t truly compare in flavor, texture, and brain freeze to the Slurpee. You know Slurpees aren’t easily replicated or to be replaced. They’re the signature dish of the house, the Crown Jewels of slushies and sugary frozen deserts. Anyone with taste can see that. So I’m guessing it depends on your desperation to feel numb vs your loyalty to the Slurpee to try that last option.

When cut off from your preferred avenues of escape you could always try another. Take, for instance: reading. When I can’t get a Slurpee I prefer to read instead of wallowing. Literature is the most ultimate form of self expression and escape. I find curling up before losing myself in someone else’s story to be a helpful process to hide away from my own. Hey, don’t knock it til you try it. It works for me. It could work for you too. After all we don’t seem that dissimilar in more ways than one. It’s gotten me through more than I can say as well. But, if that doesn’t work you could look for other, more individualized alternatives. Anything at all that helps the world melt away like your faulty Slurp shouldn’t be out of bounds. Either way I wish you good luck in your venture. It clearly looks like you might be needing it if you ask me.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

Does your back hurt from carrying around all that ego 🥀

How groundbreaking…You know if you’re going to try and insult me consider a more sensical insult at least. Your back can’t hurt carrying the weight of something weightless. Shouldn’t I be asking you something somewhat similar? Does your neck hurt from that stretch of logic you conjured up? Because if you ask me, it seems you’re stretching and looking for cause to justify your own dislike of me when there is no reason to be found. I don’t see how you’ve conflated my sense of confidence for senseless ego. Ego is often described in negative connotation by our society. That having an inflated “ego” indicates vanity and being conceited. You must be self-assured enough to be palatable for the most useless and emotionally stunted of adults who couldn’t handle another’s insecurity if they tried but not too vain as to truly believe you’re better than everyone and rock the boat.

Is it really that much of a shame to not be insecure of yourself or know your own worth in a world trying to convince you of your own worthlessness to keep you pliable? If so then call me “shameful” if you must. I can’t imagine how it would make me sound like I believe myself to be superior to admit my high self-esteem comes from my low-esteem of the others around me. Should a butterfly have to remain in the chrysalis for the benefit of the caterpillars who haven’t caught up in bloom yet? I say clipping your colorful wings for the dreary and colorless doesn’t stop anything. All it does is let the world slide further into grey.

Besides, of all the people here at Westerberg to be overwrought by their own excessive ego and pride, I’m not the problem here. The Heathers are and you know that. They’re the reason Westerberg is a cesspool of ego and insecurity. They turned petulance, control, and insisting you’re better than your classmate one push or insult at a time into an art, a trend to be followed to feed your own monster of an ego tearing your soul to trash. Of course Heather’s conceit in particular might be so inflated her head’ll explode from it someday, leaving quite the mess for the janitor’s to come and pick up. Oh, give me a front row seat to the combustion any day when that big head full of cruelty finally catches up to her…And you all enable it because rather you lie to yourself about the fact of the matter or not, it feels good to be superior, to punch down. A true show of character would be to simply not engage, such as how I don’t.

Is it worth it? Does your back hurt from your own ego? From thinking you’re better than me, the pariah who’s done nothing to you so much so you feed off an insult that applies to you more than it could ever apply to me? Or does that give me “an ego” to dare to call out the truth, huh? To know that I’m above the menagerie and am looking for a way out before the zoo animals we call a student body eat each other alive and call it “the mark of adolescence” when it’s clearly nothing more than social warfare amidst teenagers to anyone with eyes?

At least I have Veronica to keep me humble when others don’t. While even I can slip into the occasional act of hubris and smug triumph I don’t descend into true arrogance when I’m with her. Her love grounds me. If only she saw herself the way I saw her. She’s always so modest, a word this school is unfamiliar with outside me and her. It’s one of many traits that makes her so special among the human race. Hopefully one day she’ll see that too…

[explosiveslurpeelover]

would you rather have unlimited respect or unlimited power?

Keen question if you ask me. I find that we’re often distinctly lacking in those in this day and age. While there is no such thing as a “stupid question” to ask I can’t help but notice there is however such thing as not asking the right questions. If you insist, you could safely presume Heather Chandler is not necessarily asking our class “stupid questions” by way of her lunchtime polls. I don’t know if it would be right to say those are the correct questions to be asking though either. Our society actively discourages the notion of asking the hard hitting questions of life. Of course to ask hard hitting questions you would have to be capable of articulate thought as opposed to furthering the empty headed and dull rot made popular in the populace lately. How can you ever actually think outside the box when you’re expected to fit all of who you are inside a carefully cultivated package for the comfort of your fellow man? Is that what you want? To be empty, vacant, a toy in a box to be shaken up, manufactured and churned out? Played with by the masses that clearly shouldn’t be enough to define you? God knows what those assholes would do to you too if you dare to have a mind outside the empty stares and well oiled machinery…

Practically speaking, nothing in our psychical, observable world is unlimited. If it were there would be no competitions, no survival of the fittest necessary seeing as we’d all have what we need to exist on this broken planet without starting wars or inflicting senseless pain. Take what you want at the expense of others. It’s a dog eat dog world unless we had enough food to keep us replenished. But, alas that isn’t the world we are living in now nor will it ever be. No, there’s something somewhat inherent in all of us to demand fighting and bloodshed. Humans were made to survive through endurance, take it from the cavemen all the way at the start of time. All recourses and things have finite existence. There’s only so much to go around. We only have so much power, water, and time left in this world before we exhaust ourselves of resources and morality. Though more abstract concepts of devotion or respect can be unlimited within the right person if you know where to look.

From the perspective of someone who doesn’t need to look for any sort of validation from others around them and can find that within, I see no point in desiring unlimited respect. Not that it really does much. Respect only matters if you’re playing the social game, trying to climb up the ladder to what end? Besides, respect can never truly be unlimited in the way something more primal as devotion or worship is. Blind worship and devotion to a love, to whatever you call your god is the most pure and powerful thing in the world. Respect is feeble, fragile, it can be broken as fast as it’s made. In battle your ally who respects you can turn on a dime from how weak that respect is, especially if it was never earned to begin with.

Power on the other hand, is different. We all have power within ourselves to change things. I don’t clamor for power for the selfish reasons our aforementioned Heather might. Others chase power for popularity, for the high of being important when it’s all meaningless in solving the real problem. They waste that power because all that matters is the appearance of being at the top of the pyramid, none of the substance that should come with the time chair. I say unlimited power when in the wrong hands could topple our miserable existences into further disrepair. I would not call myself the wrong hands if I were handed the keys. Unlike others, I’m willing to play the long game. Use this unlimited power I’ve been given to fix our world one brick at a time. Become the architect of a better place for her…

So, safe to say I’d take my chances up with unlimited power.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

You deserve a pretzel. It's fresh, has that glossy crust, and even some powder sugar. Just take it. Take it and be happy. 😭😭😭😭

— Auntie Ann

Huh, and do I now? You flatter me. To what do I owe the delight and pleasure of a pretzel on a day like this? Surely you can see the peculiar nature of offering a stranger a baked good of unknown origin without cause as well as my hesitation to take it from you. You call yourself “Auntie Ann” however I don’t see any reason to trust you in that fact. Your pretzel, while appearing delectable on the surface is lacking in any of the usual branding I would expect of a pretzel from an Auntie Anne’s and believe me, I’ve seen pretzels a plenty on the road. If I’m being honest calling yourself anyone’s “Auntie” while offering something to be digested when you have no relation to your unsuspecting victim in question is a decision of unsettling nature. It only makes me more skeptical of what could be nothing more than a kind act even if I highly doubt that.

Nobody does anything out of charity, even if they claim it to be. What little kindness there is left in this unkind world is often born out of selfishness as opposed to a genuine love of thy neighbor. Giving a couple dollars to the poor out of pity at the grocery store doesn’t make you a virtuous or altruistic person by any means. No, you’re not helping anyone out in the end except your own self obsession by merely patting yourself on the back for doing the bare minimum by erasing the guilt of not doing anything without actually having to do anything. You have the power to change things, to make a difference, to actually help the starving children in the commercials you turn away from but you don’t. Because to do that you’d have to see outside yourself and humans are too vain a species for meaningful introspection outside certain outliers such as myself. But, good luck with the fundraising I bet you’ll pocket all the money when nobody’s looking and call it “your cut of the nonprofit”! How moral of you…

So, unless you feel pity in your soul for whatever reason unbeknownst to me or are longing to be sued by a bakery conglomerate machine then I don’t see the point in your offer. Though I do find it hard to say no to a fresh, succulent pretzel. I can never object to something sweet, especially with the right ratio of salty to reach a type of culinary balance. A good pretzel always puts me in the right mood, especially if I’m sharing it with Veronica at the mall while on a date after a movie of her choosing. I’m not hard to please in that regard. I know teenagers are expected to hang at the mall as a congregation spot. Personally I don’t see the appeal. I wouldn’t exactly choose to spend my evening near the pretzel cart on my own unless encouraged when I could be at the library or 7-Eleven instead. To each their own, I suppose.

Although it is likely against my better judgment to do so I will take you up on that pretzel. Not out of your pity or charity or need to prove something, simply because I am hungrier than I expected at this hour and the smell of powdered sugar in the air is not helping quench my hunger in this moment…

[explosiveslurpeelover]

OOC POST:

Crazy.

Jaw absolutely dropped.

Thank you for making 500 posts possible<3

Much love to anyone who’s ever sent an ask, a rp starter, fanart, a like, a follow, a reblog, asked me about him irl (yes, that’s happened), showed any love for what I do verbally, or even just spent a small fraction of their day reading this blog. I wouldn’t still be here writing with a story to tell without you. You all made this blog what it is and I’m grateful af for it every day. He really has been the gift that keeps on giving. It’s rare an artist has something this special and if I’ve managed to inspire you or brighten up your day in any way through this characterization then it’s all been worth the 10 months and now 500 posts. Feeling sappy but appreciative of all the support and love that’s carried this blog through so much of my recent life and managed to let me meet so many of you. It really and truly feels like I just started yesterday.

And rest assured, me and Ann are still cooking it isn’t over until Might and Slurpeelover reach their natural conclusion for anyone still keeping up with them >:3

We can all make jokes about how I’ve written explosiveslurpeelover more since early previews than Casey Likes has done Heathers in his entire run.

Thank you. 💣🖤🥤

[imightbebeautiful]

J.D. walks up behind Veronica and wraps his arms around her in the hallway. It was Monday. He had not seen her in a couple days now due to her being busy with her sleepover with Martha and him being busy himself with other matters.

He appeared to be in a good mood. Well, good mood for him, that is. Though he was clinging to her slightly, like she’d vanish immediately if he let her go.

He wasn’t usually like that unless something was wrong…

“Hey, haven’t seen you around lately.” He teases with a playful smile. He sounds maybe a little too casual. “Have a fun weekend? I didn’t miss anything of substance, did I?”

- @explosiveslurpeelover 💣🖤🥤

Relaxing into the embrace when the alarm bells ceased once she realised it was J.D., Veronica turned around to face him while still in his arms.

"Well, 'hey' to you too, my elusive other half," she teases with an uncontrollable warm smile. "Where have you been? Don't tell me you've been off training with the ninja turtles without me."

It wasn't until she looked at him, actually looked, that she realised something felt off, and not in the usual J.D. way. No, she was used to that by now. While others may find said demeanor intimidating, Veronica is fond of it, as she is of every part of him. Regardless, she couldn't pinpoint what was throwing her off. Overall, he seemed fine. Maybe that's exactly it, that his spirits seem to be better than usual, or the fact he's grasping onto her with unwavering firmness.

"I had a great weekend, actually," her eyes seem to soften as memories of the sleepover come to her mind. "The sleepover was a total success. Martha and I got to catch up, we had so much fun watching movies, doing our nails and makeup, and just— Finally getting to spend time together."

Suddenly, her mouth twists into an awkward grimace. "Friday though, was a bit... hectic."

[explosiveslurpeelover]

“No, the ninja turtles were busy.” He smirks, clearly in a mischievous mood.

His face remains as still as possible when asked what he was doing that weekend. It’s not a mistake he didn’t answer the question, he was deliberately avoiding it. He has a plan for getting away with the crime (if anything he already mostly has) and a cover story that had worked on the cops already. But lying to Veronica was a different matter entirely…

He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain what he did that night to her. If he even should do so in the first place. He knows by societal and legal expectations what he did was “wrong” even if he didn’t agree in the slightest. He fears the thought of her leaving him alone over something as small as this more than almost anything else. The combination of his fear of her abandonment and his guilt that he hadn’t been able to protect her from Preston sooner bubbles up to the surface.

He can’t let her go in any capacity. If anything he wants to pull her even tighter. He’s already trying to soften the inevitable blow with as much affection and sweet words as possible. Like somehow all the kisses and I love yous in the world can bury the boy he killed for her deeper into the ground. He did it to protect her. For the love of her. She could understand that, right?

Could she possibly understand if he did it again, too?

He listens to her talk about her weekend with Martha with upmost attention and interest. He’s genuinely glad to hear things had went well. He didn’t know Martha as well as Veronica did nor really cared to but he knew for a fact she was a better person than any of Veronica’s other so called-friends he made it clear he despised so much. He was also partially relieved to know she had been successfully distracted that weekend. Maybe she doesn’t even know about Preston yet at all? This could give him control over the situation and narrative to soften the blow further…

“You sound happy. I suppose you had a good sleepover, then.”

His face drops slightly at the mention of Friday. Had something happened he didn’t know about? Was she ok? Did she need him as much as he needed her right now.

“What’s wrong? Something happen Friday?” He tries to ask casually but his mind was already running a million miles a minute.

[imightbebeautiful]

"Okay, maybe 'hectic' is an overreaction," she's quick to correct herself once she saw how his face changed to something resembling worry.

"It's more like two... inconveniences that made a dent on my day, nothing new." A fleeting dismissive hand accompanied her words. "Can't be too happy 'round good ol' Westerburg High."

Veronica was undermining the effect both situations had in her overall mood that day. When she looks at the big picture, the second was a tad silly, it simply caused her to feel majorly embarrassed. The other one, however, was more serious to her. And what makes the matter worse, J.D. was involved in it. She hadn't had the time to bring it up to him, but she'd do it now. She needed to know what he had said to her and why. Veronica can only hope it won't turn into a big conflict. They had just seen each other again after three days apart. A fight is the last thing she wants.

"I guess I'll get the less serious thing out of the way," she began, awkwardness starting to bubble up inside her. She knew what she had to do, just rip the band-aid without giving herself time to hesistate or overthink it.

"So, long story short, a kinda new student that also happens to be Martha's cousin approached me. She was very friendly, and I know she only had good intentions but..." There was a pause, a deep breath, and just like a puffer fish deflating, she spat it all out.

"Inbetweenallofherramblingshetoldmeshe'syourneighborandheardusonenightIwenttoyourhousesonowIhavetoliveknowingthatsomeoneouthereknowsandheardintimatestuffaboutme—" Veronica finally gasps for air and lets her forehead hit his chest, feeling like a book with a broken spine: exposed and defeated.

"Anyway, I won't pay you any visits any time soon," she said, unsure herself of how much truth or jest her statement contained.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. softens slightly. He wasn’t really happy something was bothering Veronica at all, much less two different things at once. But, hearing it was only two small things brought him a slight comfort and relief. She could be wanting to talk to him about much worse matters after all…

He tilts his head, watching and listening to her like she was the only thing in the school to him in that moment. He’s still on edge somewhat, still almost expecting to hear about gunshots and dead preps. But, he tries with every part of his being to focus on her words and the feeling of her in his arms. Safe. Where she should be. He was doing all of this for her safety after all. He knows he’s using her as an anchor while everything around him feels like it could sink away from him at any moment, but by god he needs her most right now.

He knows his embrace is a safe place for her, but being able to hold her makes him feel safe as well. A small, almost microscopic part of him began to wonder if what he did was wrong. But, it’s quickly smothered by the feeling of her. The knowledge that she was standing here, not in tears and broken by a world that doesn’t deserve her and that what he did had protected her even for just a second overrides the guilt quickly. Maybe that gunshot bloodied his soul forever, maybe it cleaned it up instead. But, even then he knew her love was his only saving grace.

His eyes light up with recognition at the mention of Martha’s cousin Clover. She had stopped by to talk with him too one night recently with a Slurpee in her hand. It was merely a casual conversation but one that had went on longer than J.D. typically would speak to people.

“Clover Dunnstock, right? I see…she stopped by my place too. Nice enough. Talks too much.”

J.D.’s eyes widen at the revelation. If he was being honest he hadn’t thought too much about the fact the neighbors might’ve heard them that night after the homecoming party from Hell. He hadn’t really been thinking about anything that night that wasn’t Veronica. The thought people knew what they did instilled a bit of discomfort in him. But, it was too late to do much about it besides live with the consequences. Though the way Veronica said everything in one breath almost made him want to burst out laughing.

“Woah, slow down. It’s ok. It’s a little late to do anything about it now. What’s done is done. We can’t exactly go back in time and fix it, can we?” He suddenly puts his hands on her shoulders. He wasn’t exactly taught how to be super comforting but he’s trying his best to soothe her worries.

That last part warrants a genuine but flirty smile from him.

“Oh, really? Well, I guess it’s going to get really lonely in my bedroom without my favorite girl coming in through my window.”

He takes a small pause before suddenly turning a bit serious again.

“And the second thing bothering you?”

[imightbebeautiful]

"I know, I know," she sighed, ready to drop the subject now that she finally let her discomfort out. "I just had to talk about it. It was hunting nightmares, I swear." Unsurprisingly, telling J.D. made her feel a bit better. Of course, she couldn't go to just anyone, she hadn't even told Martha, and she wasn't sure she ever would. She guesses some things are just meant to stay between her and her boyfriend, and that's fine.

She raised her head again to meet his eyes when she felt him hold her shoulders. It was his attempt to sooth her worries, she was sure. And, even if awkward, she found it sweet. The irony came when he effortlessly replied with a flirty remark to the last thing she said. Seriously, how come he finds it difficult to comfort her yet flirting comes naturally? She isn't bothered by it, of course. It honestly amuses her.

"You'll live, Rapunzel," she teased, and would've kept on entertaining their banter if he hadn't reminded her to continue with her second issue.

"Right, um, the second thing, uh..." Her hesitation was clear, she's aware. She put some distance between them, gently removing his hands from her shoulders and holding them for a few seconds before letting go.

"Just to be clear, I don't want this to turn into a big fight. And I'm not accusing you of anything. I just... I want to know what you said to Heather Mac last Friday." Her eyes don't leave his face, wanting to gauge his reaction. "I went to thank her for telling me about Heather and the whole photos situation. And, well, it came up in our conversation that you had approached her, and you both talked about some stuff going on in her life. She never exactly told me what it was but she seemed troubled. What did you tell her?"

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. was relieved that he could feel even just a fraction of the tension in Veronica let up about the issue. He didn’t like seeing her panicked or tense in the slightest, especially when it was something he couldn’t fix for her immediately. All he could do was be there for her right now and that had to work for him. Even if he wished he could’ve done more to help. Well, at least she’s a bit more comfortable now…

He was glad to see her in a teasing mood again. His signature smirk was starting to creep back onto his face again. He has already begun to brace himself to hear about the second thing bothering her, however. Fearing the worst outcome but hoping if the first thing bothering her was so small by comparison to what he did at the party maybe it wouldn’t be too bad for him to manage?

The hesitation in her voice and the way she delicately takes his hands off her shoulders to hold them sends him into a small internal frenzy. He looks down at their hands entwined, how they were meant to be, and suddenly feels scared and small again. But, he manages to continue to find a small comfort in just being able to touch her at all that is quickly lost when she finally lets go.

He can tell she wants psychical space for whatever she’s about to say next and he hates that. Why could she possibly want space from him right now? They were just having a good time a moment ago, right? Does she know what he did…? He wants to close the space between them again, but he stands frozen and stiff instead. He tries to respect her wish for space as she tells him about the next thing, even if it’s burning him to not be able to hold her in any capacity right now.

The mention of Heather McNamara instills a completely new problem. He had completely forgotten about his conversation with Heather Mac already if he was being honest. Friday felt like a millennium ago to him after what he did Saturday night…

“So, I see. I wonder what Heather Mac could’ve been troubled by. Nothing ended up coming from it.”

All traces of that smirk on his lips were gone. In its place a confused expression. Like he genuinely didn’t know what she was talking about. He was avoiding the question again.

“We could always talk about this over something to eat after school? Feels like ages since we’ve been on a real date, you know?”

A smile had returned to his face and he was trying to sound light and airy. But, his arms were now behind his back, trying to hide that he was fidgeting with the button on his duster sleeve, which was usually a telltale sign he was uncomfortable about something…

He was trying to buy himself some more time to come up with a smoother way to get through this conversation, or better yet, never even have it at all. He didn’t want to fight with her either.

[imightbebeautiful]

A deep frown takes over her features, she can't help it. J.D. doesn't know? At least that's what Veronica understood from his vague response. But it makes no sense. It doesn't align with what Heather told her. She vividly recalls how she said J.D. approached her, and gave some "extreme advice." That's exactly what she wants to know: What was that extreme advice? They talked, he adviced her, therefore he must know what was troubling her, plain and simple.

So if that's the case, why did he just say he also wonders what was troubling Mac? Was he... lying? But why? Could he have said something so wrong he doesn't want Veronica to know? Why is he hiding things from her? That's not how a relationship should work. That's not how she wants them to be.

Although... maybe she's the one in the wrong. She was too focused on the first half of his words she forgot to pay attention to the rest. His suggestion to go talk about it over something to eat could just mean he doesn't want to talk about it now. And if that's the case, then Veronica can completely understand. After all, they're in the middle of a hallway at school. Ugh, that's too many prying ears for her comfort; privacy is important. Still, that doesn't explain the lie...

Veronica decides to brush it off for now. She must be overthinking, the usual. He said they'll talk about it after school and she'll take his word for it. Besides, she's also missed their little dates and spending time with together.

"You know what? Yeah, sure, let's do that," the smile came back to her face as she replied, no trace of the building tension her thoughts had caused a moment ago.

"But we'll be getting some real food, mister. Have you been to Ben's yet? Little diner on Main street? Their burgers are to die for, and they're pretty generous with the pickles," she explains with growing enthusiasm at the idea.

Her hands find their way to the collar of his checked shirt. If she's honest, there's nothing in need of adjustment, but she pretends there is, using it as an excuse to get close again. "Don't worry, we can grab a Slurpee afterwards," her eyes slowly move back up to his, tilting her head as she continues, "Or we can share a milkshake. Whatever you're craving."

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. feels more at ease hearing Veronica agree to his date idea. If he was being honest, he had genuinely been missing their dates. He had been missing seeing her in general lately though. The last couple days felt like centuries had passed for him now. Everything felt completely different and yet somehow exactly the same all at once, even after having killed someone. This date could be good for them, you know? A chance to catch up and to be close to her again as they should always be.

But, even in the back of his mind he knew this was just a bandaid solution to a bullet hole problem, quite literally too. He bought himself a couple hours to figure out how to soften the blow of the truth of what he said to Heather Mac, to preserve their relationship, and hopefully prevent the conversation of Preston coming up at all. He knew she’d understand eventually, or at least she should understand that everything he’s ever done since they met was for her and only her. But, he didn’t know how to tell her the truth without it blowing up in his face faster than an explosive from his dad’s personal home collection.

Hopefully, this date could also be used to rework the narrative of what he did in his favor, or if he got really lucky he wouldn’t ever have to tell her about either matter. If keeping the truth from her protects her and the love they share then he’s more than willing to let the truth and past die with Preston.

“Ok, ok!” He chuckles at her insistence that they go to a real restaurant for once.

“Haven’t been there myself but you know, I trust your judgment. I haven’t been here that long like you have, if anyone knows Sherwood’s sweet spots I assume it would be you. If you like it, I’m sure I’ll like it too.”

He smiles fondly as her hands play with his shirt collar. He knows she’s doing it as an excuse to get close to him again but he’s not going to call her out on it. He doesn’t object in the slightest. He was desperate to feel her warmth again after she pulled away even if it was a rather short lived development. He leans in to kiss her.

“Sounds good to me. I can’t say no to that. You choose, ok? I’ll be satisfied either way. Perfect date with the perfect girl does that to a guy like me.”

Though the thought of a Slurpee sounded good right about now, he wanted to let her choose. Anything that would make this date go easier for her was much wanted and appreciated…

[imightbebeautiful]

“Trust me, your taste buds are in good hands,” she had assured, happy to know she would be introducing a new place in town to him. Maybe she should do this more often show more of town to J.D. that is. As much as she gets bored of Sherwood and wishes to get away, there are certain places she enjoys and can even go as far as to say she’s fond of. “There’s no place like home,” or however the quote goes.

The moment J.D. leaned in for a kiss, she laughed mischievously inside her head. Her plan had worked, well, it always did. Subtle proximity goes a long way. But who truly has the upper hand here when she’s the one with a dumb look on her face once they break it apart? For the first few seconds, his words sound like gibberish, and she nods along to whatever it is he’s saying.

Eventually, she does refocus and listens to what he’s saying, only to be met with his usual sudden compliments. While she bashfully nudges and taps his shoulders and chest in what then became a playful exchange between the two, Veronica can't help but hope things always stay like this.

After school they fell into their usual routine when it came to heading somewhere on J.D.'s motorbike. She would hop on, wrap her arms securely around his waist, and he would drive around town at a slower speed than necessary. Now wether that is because he doesn't want her to get scared or because he likes to prolongue the little journey to their destination, she's not sure.

Veronica doesn't complain, however. Why would she when she also enjoys it? The sound of whatever tune J.D. has been humming filling her ears, the soft autumn wind definitely making her hair frizzy, watching the people walk by, J.D. stopping his humming to ask her when's the left turn comin— She lifted her head up from where it had been resting on his back this whole time. An awkward laugh escaped her and she tells him to make a U-turn on the next light since she they had missed it.

Anyway, what can she say? It's always a great time.

Once they finally reach the street where Ben's is located, J.D. parallel parked along the curb just a few spots away from the front of the small diner. Even from the outside one could see it wasn't busy, which Veronica had hoped and expected. She's come to learn her boyfriend isn't one to enjoy crowded places or too much noise so this seemed like the perfect spot.

"Tadaaa! Here it is: Ben's Diner. It's nothing fancy, but trust me, the food's good. Not too greasy, not too dry— Well, you'll see for yourself. C'mon, let's go," she said grabbing his hand and walking to the familiar light green building.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

For once, J.D. seemed to be almost taking pleasure in the mundane routine. He knew how it goes, Veronica got on the back of his motorbike after school and would give him directions to the location of the diner they would be having their date in.

He always seemed to go a bit slower when traveling with her on the back of his motorbike. When it was just him, he was more likely to drive with reckless abandon. But, with her the trip was always easy and steady. Almost like she was precious cargo he was driving around. Because to him, she was. Not that he was ever complaining, a longer trip around town meant more time with her anyway.

Though, today it felt like the drive was longer than usual for him. Maybe it was because he was less familiar with the destination? Or maybe he was truly just going slower than usual? Either way, the only thing that seemed to be keeping him at ease at all was Veronica’s arms around his waist and her voice guiding him around.

His mind kept wanting to drift away to other places, to Heather and their interaction prior in the day, to Heather Mac and what he had said to her even if it felt like centuries had passed between then and now, to Preston Sullivan’s corpse that night and the way the blood and booze formerly in his hand pooled on the ground in distorted harmony. There was a beauty in the ugliness, like it was how it was always meant to be. Even if he sometimes felt Preston was still mocking him from beyond the grave with the threat of exposure and the collapse of the relationship that mattered to him most.

But, none of that seemed to matter to him anymore. He knew the road he was on was unfamiliar, her voice the only thing guiding him forward. He hums a tune to himself as he always did, the music giving a certain clarity. The humming in his throat and the humming of the motorbike washing away all background noise besides him and her, as if he can use it to blind himself from his own lack of knowledge of where the end of his road might be heading and the future collision in store now.

He awaits her every direction, for where would he go without her direction? And maybe that’s the unspoken truth behind his hum: there is no true path forward for a guy like him without Veronica Sawyer to guide him onwards to the next place…

Once they arrive at the diner at long last he takes notice to how unbusy the location appeared to be. Normally, he would be skeptical of a restaurant with few patrons as that’s not always the best sign of a restaurant’s food being desirable. But, he trusted Veronica’s judgement on the matter implicitly. Maybe it just wasn’t rush hour there yet? Either way, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn’t particularly like busy restaurants anyway. He found noise in a condensed place with no escape mentally claustrophobic.

As he walked into the diner with her and they got seated he was feeling many things. A warm and fuzzy excitement in his soul to be back on a date with his lover, a quaint curiously to understand another part of her world, and a cautious screaming clobbering in the back of his mind that this can’t truly last. A fear that the past was going to catch up to him fast and there was nothing he could actually do to stop it. But, he numbed the feeling out as fast as it came. Being apathetic to one’s true feelings seemed to be his natural state more often than not. It’s worked before, it will work again. Besides, he didn’t actually do anything wrong, did he? Not when it’s for her he doesn’t…

“So, any recommendations from the menu since you know the place so well?” He asked, squinting overdramatically like an old man in need of glasses as he looked at the menu in a cheesy attempt at making her laugh.

[imightbebeautiful]

As they both settle into the familiar booth, the warm, inviting atmosphere of the diner envelops her. It feels like visiting an old friend. Veronica's arms rest on the scratched formica table while she happily listens to the faint chatter of the few other patrons in the background.

This place has been a constant in her life. She remembers it being much more busier when she was a kid. But ever since the arrival of malls, these local businesses lost most of their clientele to them. It's a shame, honestly. She was glad to know Ben's was still standing despite its decrease in clients. It's rare to see people her age around here. From what Veronica has gathered, the common demographic consists mostly of tired workers, the elderly, and the occasional nuclear family.

At least this was all a plus on their case. It means there are less chances of running into any other Westerberg students. The perfect place to discuss personal matters without worrying of being overheard. She's sure they'll get back to that conversation eventually. Hopefully it'll be quick so they can continue their date without any problem.

Her eyes had been roaming through the menu when she heard J.D. speak. She looks up only for a snort to escape her at the sight of him; so silly.

"Well, gramps," she starts, amusement reflected on her grin and the shimmer in her eyes. "I'd say you have to go with a burger, 'it's the signature dish of the house'." She hopes he can recognize his own words in hers. Enthusiastic, she lays down her menu on the table and points at the different sections while she continues. "What're you in the mood for? If you want a more breakfast type of burger —because breakfast is an all day event— then maybe go with the ones under 'Hearty Brunch'. There's also the classics, or if you're feeling more adventurous like me, choose one under 'Buns from beyond'. I pers—"

Veronica came to a stop as she was reminded of something crucial. "Wait, I gotta ask: Are you allergic to anything? Better keep that in mind, because, uh," her smile tenses and an awkward chuckle blows out of her now tightned teeth. "Well, long story short, when Mal and I— you remember Mal, right? Mallory. One of my cousins, we're really close.— Anyhow, when we were around seven or eight I gave her some of my reese's pieces without knowing about her peanut allergy and uh... Yeah, she still brings that up all the time. I could've become a murderer at such a young age! Crazy, right?" She laughs it off, because thank goodness she can.

It was a valid and simple enough question. She hopes he doesn't have any allergies, but it's important to know if he does. What kind of girlfriend would she be if she doesn't know such important things!

[explosiveslurpeelover]

For J.D., it felt nice to be sitting in such a warm and welcoming environment with the person he loved so much. Especially with how life had been for him lately. He had been to many a diner on the road. But, he has never been to one that had felt this cozy and open. Must’ve been the mom and pop’s shop ambiance of the place. Like a local’s secret he had just happened to be let in on. Since he didn’t really get to know the locals of each state he moved to he never had anyone to show him around before and often preferred to stick with the usual places and routines. Though his company for the meal might’ve helped with the fuzzy feelings in his chest more than anything else for that matter.

He watches the way Veronica happily listens to all the faint noise in the background, like she was in her element here. She looked stunning to him like this, under the light of a place she deemed comforting. He knew what it was like to find comfort in a constant place in your life. Even if his constant place was likely more emotionally intimate than it was intimate to the environment around him. He imagined Veronica had many stories to tell about growing up in and around this little diner. He hadn’t had a place like that really since Texas and a part of him longed for one. But, he could never forsake his beloved 7-Elevens. That didn’t stop the small ache in his chest that seemed to be mixing with the warm and fuzzy feelings however.

It was an indisputable fact that Veronica and him had simply lived different lives and as a result, had different experiences. Veronica’s world was small and intimate, she had been surrounded by the same town and its people her whole life. There was a beauty to that he could find, places like Ben’s can be a constant and the people around you get to grow up with you. No need for goodbyes or fear of planting roots for a garden you’ll have to witness decay when it’s time for you to pack your things and leave. Sometimes he couldn’t believe this was the world Veronica had grown up in. It sounded like a pretty fantasy to him and nothing more.

J.D.’s world on the other hand was everywhere and nowhere at once. A constant string of new and unfamiliar places and suitcases packed in the den. It was a world lacking in hellos but full of goodbyes. He could agree to the notion that there was one good thing this lifestyle had given him that Veronica’s hadn’t given her: clarity. He had seen more of the world and its people and through the pain of it all had found an understanding for how mankind truly was. He almost pitied Veronica’s naivety. Her ability to see life as something beautiful and its people as inherently good. He had seen far too much to be able to agree no matter how much he would’ve wanted to.

He smirked at her calling him “gramps.” He had always felt distinctly older than his age would allow so it seemed appropriate. Her parroting his own words back to him about 7-Eleven in relation to Ben’s only sealed the connection between the two that he had already picked up on in his head. It made him feel fond to remember that first night again. The night his life would be changed forever and he would begin to know how to be a human being again. It somehow felt like yesterday and also months ago now.

If he was being honest, he hadn’t been keeping track of how long he had been living in Sherwood. Which was unusual for him. He was usually practically counting the days. Maybe because he didn’t want to know how much time he had left with Veronica…

“So, I’m guessing this is your 7-Eleven then.”

J.D. watches as Veronica tenses up on the question of if he was allergic to anything. His face drops slightly, clearly concerned as to why she suddenly stopped herself to ask such a question.

“No, I’m not allergic to anything. Just a little anemic. Why? What’s wrong?”

He listens to her story about her cousin Mallory. And quite the story it evidently was. He knew of Veronica’s cousin from how often Veronica would talk about her but this was the first time he was hearing of any allergen-related issues. He wasn’t surprised to hear Veronica had made that type of mistake as a kid, most kids do and it clearly wasn’t that big of a deal anymore or else she wouldn’t be laughing. Especially since Veronica had very different standards on what was considered funny compared to him…

He would’ve joined in on the joke if it wasn’t for that last part. “I could've become a murderer at such a young age! Crazy, right?" He cringed before he could stop himself even if he tried to hide it from her as fast as possible. He had assumed this wasn’t a slight on him as she likely still didn’t seem to know what he had done to Preston. But, even so the timing was rather unfortunate for him and he was taken completely off guard by it.

He looks up at the ceiling, eyebrows going up as if concentrating on something that isn’t there. He smiles and looks back down to face Veronica once again, trying to salvage the situation before he himself wants to go into Anaphylactic shock to get away from the topic of murder.

“Hmm, I trust your judgment and am always willing to go with a little adventure in my life.” He says, his eyes drawn back down to the menu in front of him as his fingers tapped on the edge of the paper. “Maybe something under 'Buns from beyond'?”

[imightbebeautiful]

"Yeah, in a way," Veronica had paused for a brief moment, replying to his comparison between this diner and J.D.'s own comfort place, 7-Eleven. "I don't visit it as much as you do 7-Elevens, but when I do, it always brings back fond memories. And hey, I'm happy to be creating more with you right now." Her last words were carried by a wave of mellowness, which returned back to the shore with enthusiasm as she started helping him decide what to order. That was, of course, before she paused to ask about any possible allergies, and made the lighthearted joke by the end of her story.

Because of her own laughter, she could've almost missed J.D.'s immidiate reaction to what she deemed a normal and amusing anecdote. However, she didn't, she saw it all too well. His face contorted into what she could only assume was discomfort. Did she say something wrong? She would've asked this exact question, hating the idea of hurting his feelings, but she didn't because she couldn't. In the blink of an eye, his face had returned to normal, depriving her of the opportunity to address it.

That alone triggered the flood. It was familiar, way too familiar for her own comfort. Thoughts, over thoughts, over thoughts, filled her mind; the level rising. All while she goes back to helping him choose something from the menu. He asked for a recommendation under 'Buns from beyond', right? Yeah, he did.

Acting casual, trying to fall back into the lighthearted mood, she tells him which burgers she likes the most, and which one will she go with today. She isn't sure if it works but, what else could she do? He avoided something again. He wasn't telling her something again. She had no clue what was going on inside her boyfriend's mind, again. Would she ever? It's like he never lets her in, not completely.

Conviniently, just when J.D. had made his choice, the waitress came back to take their order. The presence of a third person seemed to help Veronica emerge from her torrent of thoughts. The haziness took a backseat, and she put a friendlier smile upon her face while she told her order.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. had presumed Veronica likely didn’t visit her favorite local burger place nearly as often as he would visit the 7-Eleven. If she had it would be rather impressive she hadn’t taken him before. In the worst of times, he’d visit 7-Eleven every day just to feel something, only really living for the sweet frozen rush only a Slurpee could provide him. It was another way their lives didn’t align with one another’s. Her place of optimal comfort was warm light in a world of dark, a privilege but not a necessity to stand to go on living. For him? He experienced the opposite sensation. A 7-Eleven trip was not an occasional stop on the road but a necessary constant to stay afloat in life. If he didn’t want to open a vein he had to freeze his brain. It was the only way he could come close to truly living.

“I get it. I appreciate you letting me come with. Seems like a nice place. Certainly can’t imagine you hanging here as much as I hang at 7-Eleven seeing as you would be drowning in burgers by now.” He teased her before his voice became sincere again. “You know, you could take me anywhere really as long as I’m there with you.”

His face softened hearing the calm in Veronica’s voice. She appeared so mellow, so in her element as she shared her comfort place as he did with 7-Eleven that first night they knew each other. He knew how sacred that was, to be trusted enough to share this part of her world with him, someone she hadn’t even known all that long all things considered. Seemed appropriate as right now, she was all he could trust in the world. That look in her eyes, that enthusiasm in her voice. Without that he wouldn’t ever know peace again. She was his world and he was lucky to be allowed to share it with her. This was how it was always meant to be between them. Their love as sacred as any Ben’s or 7-Elevens or even more so. He didn’t just love her, he worshipped her and she had to feel the same about him too. He’d make the whole world disappear if she needed him to. He’d trade his life for hers if it meant she could live happily another day more.

Her name was the prayer he had been looking for in the icy pain he formerly swam in. He wasn’t a religious man himself in any way, he had given up on God as being anything more than a cruel and unusual joke people had merely made up to give their suffering purpose when there was none to be found at all.

Their love was more of a god to him than any god ever could be. Their love WAS God.

“Our love is God~” He thought to himself like a prayer, his new mantra to live by. Because if he lives on their love forever then there’s nothing he can’t do for her. He could start and finish wars, kill the dinosaurs, be the asteroid that’s overdue. He could be whatever she needed him to be. Anything and everything at all to keep her looking like that…

His mind quickly switched gears to the menu and Veronica’s casual recommendations on what to eat. If she was willing to try his beloved Slurpee he could spare taking her meal recommendation. The tension in the conversation appeared to be gone for him by the time their food had arrived. His burger of choice was delicious as he would’ve expected it to be from Veronica’s recommendation. Of course Veronica has yet again never failed to steer him in a direction he could trust. The food was good, the company even better. Call him an optimist once again but, the rest of the night was seemingly going to go without anymore hitches or the risk of fighting.

That is, until the people in the booth behind them had begun talking:

“Did you hear? They’re holding a memorial for the Sullivan kid next week…God, what a tragedy. He was only 17. Can’t imagine how the parents are holding up…”

J.D. starts chewing the fry in his mouth slower than he was before, concentrating less on digestion and more so having his alibi ready to go if needed. It needed to be good enough to fool Veronica after all. He had hoped the topic at hand would not come up tonight. Maybe Veronica still hadn’t even heard yet? He still didn’t know what she knew about Preston’s death aside from that it had been the talk of the whole town and their classmates lately.

Of course he still didn’t see the whole thing as the tragedy most of Sherwood had painted it to be. His and Veronica’s love was God, thus making them gods as well. And a goddess on earth like her doesn’t deserve to be tormented by a cannibal like Preston. His death was a necessary evil born out of protection. His way of shielding her from the cruel world they both shared with the rest of humanity. Preston died because he decided he must. That the world would be better off without someone like him in it. That the world needed more room for the two of them and their love.

Sure, he could always try to come clean about what he had done but knew he couldn’t. Not anymore. There it was again. That seed of doubt poisoning his mind. The thought she wouldn’t see things his way until it was too late for them. That she’d give up on him and leave him. The thought she could chuck him out like he was trash alone was too much for him to handle. It was a lie. Claiming innocence and all that. But, what else was he supposed to do? The lie was good for her. It kept her safe. Kept her content. Kept her his. What’s so bad about that? It was the right thing to do after all. He was being a good boyfriend. Lovers sacrifice it all for the ones they love and he’d lay it all on the line for this moment between them to last a little longer.

“Ok, tell me, how’s the burger then?” He asked intently with a smile, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his fist before popping another fry in his mouth. Almost as if he was subtly trying to talk over the obvious conversation unfolding behind them.

[imightbebeautiful]

After the waitress departed with their menus, the mundane rhythm of their conversation resumed, filling the air with a lightness that seemed to wrap around her like a comforting breeze. Yet, beneath that surface calm, the familiar pattern remained in the back of her mind: J.D. was still holding something back, the faint shadow of... a secret? Discomfort? It is the very fact she has no idea what it is that bothers her so much. Every time it happened, she found herself torn between the impulse to pry deeper or simply let it slide, hoping it wasn’t as important as it felt.

For now, they were enjoying the simple pleasure of being together after many days apart. What else could she ask for? It was a welcome distraction from how heavy the weight of the world seemed to press these days.

The moment their food arrived, a sense of contentment washed over her. With a brief happy noise, she grabbed her burger, containing extra pickles as she had asked for. The taste of familiarity mingled with the cheerful exchanges between bites.

As they dug into their meals, a lull settled around them, the faint sound of chewing filling the space. It was then Veronica's attention drifted to the booth behind them, where a familiar topic began to be discussed in their conversation.

“Did you hear? They’re holding a memorial for the Sullivan kid next week… God, what a tragedy. He was only 17. Can’t imagine how the parents are holding up…”

This last bite of her burger went down her throat like heavy rocks, pulling her mind into a torrent of memories. Preston Sullivan. A name she associated with all the worst parts of high school. She had first heard the news while eating breakfast and listening to a local news station. He was the typical rich, preppy guy who paraded entitlement like a badge of honor while harassing girls at parties. Veronica recalled her own encounters with him, moments when he had... crossed lines that should never be crossed. Each time, she had brushed it off, choosing not to make a scene, to not anger Heather Chandler. Too many had endured worse, she'd thought, even if it left a bitter taste in her mouth that she was sure was not caused by the house sauce in her food.

Now, as she listened to all of Westerberg and Sherwood's distorted discussions on the topic, she felt somewhat conflicted. Even though he was undoubtedly a huge dick, no one deserved such a violent end. Yet, he also didn't deserve to be glorified, he was no Saint Peter. The details were still murky; the police had failed to find the killer, which was unsurprising to her. As much as she tried to fight it, the thought gnawed at her, an unsettling reality sticking into her meal.

J.D.'s voice pierced through her preoccupation, lifting her back up, arnchoring her to their table. She met his gaze, trying to shake off the heaviness as a smile returned to her lips at what she saw. He looked adorable, munching his fries as he stared straight at her awaiting a reply.

"It's as good as always. Craving has been successfully satisfied," she said, relief washing over her as she took another bite and grabbed some napkins when she felt residue sauce at the corner of her mouth. But the thoughts of Preston's death lingered like an unwelcome guest. "Hey, so… I'm guessing you've heard about what happened to Preston, right? Preston Sullivan? Everyone at Westerberg has been talking about it."

The question hung in the air between them, tinted with curiosity. Veronica spoke hoping her feelings on the matter weren't reflecting on her face, which was always a difficult task for her. She wasn't sure why she asked, maybe in hopes discussing it could get at least some weight off her mind. Although, a part of her was curious to gauge his thoughts on the whole situation.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

In that lull of space in which they ate in quiet, J.D. felt most secure. He was eating a rather enjoyable burger with the girl he loved most in her place of comfort after all. Usually he wouldn’t enjoy a quiet where the only noise in earshot was the sound of chewing, normally finding the sound unpleasant to his eardrums. But, in this case it was a much appreciated silence. The lack of conversation provided safety, a safety from having to broach the topic at hand he desperately didn’t want to approach in the first place. Besides, there was a certain peace to that silence that uplifted his soul in time of need. That the buzz of those around them had become blurry in the background and all he could seem to focus on was the beautiful angel in blue enjoying a hardy meal with him out of all the people in the world she could’ve chosen to be with tonight instead. She belonged there with him as he belonged there with her. Nothing else could ever change that.

Ever the observer he was he couldn’t help but notice the extra pickles she had asked for, making a mental note to himself in case he ever got to cook for her. He noticed things about everyone, all the ticks and behaviors they don’t even notice about themselves. When you’re an observer of life such as he was you see the whole picture nobody else sees as well as the gritty complexity beneath the veneer. He knew her to generally not be a picky eater, often pushing him to expand his own cuisine and pallet by eating more food than he would prefer to on his own. Her favorite food was spaghetti with lots of oregano. He imagined her mom made an impeccable spaghetti though the nostalgia of familiarity and what we love often blinds us to its true nature. He can’t know for sure seeing as he’s yet to be invited over, often coming in through her bedroom window or vice versa for his place. All he knew was the pain in his chest he longed to unburden himself from: that feeling his own mom couldn’t cook for him anymore like hers could. If he wanted to try Veronica’s mom’s signature dish he’d have to make it for himself and Sue, then prepare an extra bowl too for the old man who wouldn’t even thank him for making sure he didn’t starve like he secretly wished he would…

If he knew so much about other people he’d like to think he knew most about Veronica. Case in point: she always fidgets with her clothing when she was anxious. He presumed most people didn’t notice, it was such a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but he always did. It was how he knew when she needed him even if she would deny herself his embrace under the guise of being “ok.” He saw the way she loved her family with all she had when he couldn’t stand his own. While he preferred listening to music she had a taste for radio shows. He was well aware she had very little poker face and was never a particularly efficient liar. (It was ok, he’d back her up always.) Unlike him, she already knew what she wanted out of life when he barely knew if he could stand to go on living without her love keeping him here. He saw how she loved all animals as he did; how she was bright where he was dim right down to the colors they both wore most. Her eyes were dark and soulful and full of life where his were light and distinctly lacking.

She was everything he isn’t and he was everything she wasn’t. They complimented each other in more ways than one, right down to the colors they always wore, blue and black-The blue was bright, yet melancholic, and serene while the black was a dark void that swallowed up all it cherished most, now only belonging to accentuate the blue that makes him feel seen. You know, it shouldn’t be this perfect for them; opposites attract merely a delusion to sell more valentines cards to couples doomed from the start of their love. He didn’t believe in fate but he believes he was meant to meet Veronica. That he was meant to love and worship her. That’s who he is, what he was made for. They were always made to be like this. Their souls might as well be one separated across two people so deeply in love with each other…

He had never been in love before Veronica and he can’t see being in love with anyone else now that he is. That he could ever love someone with so much conviction that it consumes all that he is and his very being and not want it any other way. He always was so alone, he thought he’d reject the notion of ever wanting anyone else when all he ever had was himself, but instead? He’s embraced it and all the broken pieces have come together to form a whole, singing her name like it’s the only music he can hear anymore. Not only could he never stand to be without her, he simply doesn’t want to. He only breathes to breathe with her, every moment without her is a second he’s waiting to be reunited and surely she must feel the same too…

As observant as he was being he noticed the tension that came over her at the mere mention of Preston being brought up, he could see why. Likely a bad memory for her no doubt-but that’s all that he is to her now, a memory. He did that for her. Was it the tension of some misplaced sense of guilt? Why she would feel guilt he didn’t know…In his eyes she was perfect and there was nothing to feel guilty about in the matter of Preston Sullivan. He was a dick who tormented her at parties, a shit stain on humanity to be wiped away. Maybe she felt guilty for wanting him dead? There was nothing wrong with wishing ill on those who’ve hurt you, he did it all the time and he’d argue he was still a good person. She didn’t kill him either, he kept her hands and heart clean at the cost of his own. After all angels don’t belong in red, their halos don’t dim-but gods decide what’s needed to keep the universe spinning another day. Gods can make a genocide occur with a snap of their fingers because of the power they possess, the very same power they get easily drunk on. They certainly don’t pity the fallen children either. Though he’d never get drunk on what power staining the walls with Preston’s sins has given him. He was too principled, too aware, too calculated for senseless brutality on a power trip, unlike some of his other classmates he’s been seeing through different eyes lately.

The only thing he thought Veronica had done wrong in this particular instance was not tell him sooner. If he had known sooner this would’ve been over long ago by now. That was the one thing she always did that drove him up the wall if he was being honest, making him wait, play the observer…Always observing, never acting as she put flowery bandaids over holes rupturing blood that stains them both. It made him feel helpless, gross, like she couldn’t see how much she needed him. So many of their problems could’ve been over by now if she’d just let him help but, no she doesn’t listen! She makes him stand outside, goes it alone, makes him feel like he should have to apologize to the beast when he did nothing wrong and they both know it! At least he came closer to getting through to Heather Mac than he ever has with her…One day he’ll make her see how much this pacifisity is killing them both, how the observer has grown sick of always observing and never doing…

When he saw her smile at him he could at least rest easy knowing her mind was more at ease than it was before, or more specifically that the attempt at deflection had worked for now.

“Glad the meal has sufficed, as long as you’re satisfied then call me satisfied too, good burger or not.” He watched as she wiped some of the sauce off her mouth, not only was she not a difficult eater to please it seems but she clearly wasn’t a messy eater either which pleased him. Of course everything she did pleased within reason however.

He grabbed his own napkin and slowly started dabbing the sides of his mouth while making a faux-hoity toity expression as if he was eating at a highly priced fancy establishment as opposed to a somewhat small and no frills diner his girlfriend had recommended to him. Then after slowly putting the napkin down dramatically he licked his lips and stuck his tongue out at her before quickly retracting, a sharp contrast to his teasing facade of fanciness. He was once again trying to ease her tension any way he could in the moment.

And there it was, the question he had been hoping to never have to hear come out of those lips he wished would kiss him. There were many things he knew feasibly he could’ve said to make things easier. He could’ve protected her by claiming deniability and said he knew nothing about Preston, an obvious lie seeing as it seemed to be all anyone in Sherwood was talking about as it was. He could’ve told her the truth and confessed to his crime, but he knew Veronica well enough to know she wouldn’t take to that immediately, even if she was clearly lying to herself to feel guilt about the dead and buried in the pursuit of remaining a “good person”. He could’ve said nothing at all and try to change the topic again, he didn’t think Preston even deserved to be talked about. His name was like acid to his tongue, when spewed it destroys everything it touches after all…It had worked prior though he knew better than that. It would appear too suspicious in this instance. His thoughts of all he should do were suffocating his mind and quickly.

No, he had to say something, anything at all really…Something that would make her feel better than she did and hopefully exonerate him in her eyes. Something that made that look in her eyes he recognized as curiosity go away…

After a pause to consider her question he blinked at her, tilting his head. “Huh? Of course. A tragedy indeed. See, that’s the thing with those parties you go to with Heather. Beers, loud music, dim light, you won’t know what’s happening…It just worries me sometimes, I guess. First Preston, but it could always be you next if you don’t take the right precautions to stay safe. I’m just glad we were both somewhere else that night. Maybe you should consider retiring from the party crowd for a while? Hang with me instead at night-it certainly would be safer for you, I can protect you; be back up. God knows what I would’ve done if you had been there that night…” He fidgets with the button on his coat sleeve. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel about all of this stuff, you know? Regardless of what everyone else says you should feel…Was Preston’s a tragedy for some? Yes, a victory for others? Most likely as well…But, I think we can all agree that his death has had a profound effect on us all and that it was a shortening of a life already so painfully short to begin with…”

He makes a confused expression before smiling at her again.

“Why? Is there something you’re not telling me about the recently departed?”

[imightbebeautiful]

When J.D. dabbed his mouth with his napkin and did that dramatic, overly-posh little impression, she let out a soft laugh. The playful showmanship was so him, that side he only ever shows when it's just the two of them. For a moment, she admired him, eyes bright, amusement lingering. As if she was trying to memorize it to keep the moment in her mental treasure box of memories.

But then she noticed how J.D. took a second too long before answering her question about Preston. It wasn't a whole pause, just that tiny delay, the kind that made her brain start turning automatically. "Is it because the topic is sensitive?", she wondered, although that also didn’t really sound like something he'd struggle with in the first place. J.D. always had opinions, always had something to say. He wasn't the type to go quiet from discomfort. At least not around her. Still, his long reply filled the space again, and she listened as he talked, even if yet again a part of her kept waiting for the exact thing he wasn't saying.

It wasn't unlike him to ramble like that, at least not in the way that mattered. But a part of Veronica hadn't expected him to say so much about this. He doesn't care about the popular students at Westerberg, and for very understandable reasons, if you ask her. But thing is, he did raise points that landed. Her safety at parties. The way things could go wrong so fast. The fact that someone had been killed at one of them like it was just another night of beer and uncomprehesible tumult. It had been pure luck she was able to skip that one thanks to her sleepover with Martha.

She didn't hate parties entirely. Actually, she liked people-watching, the music, dancing, pretending everything was fine and in harmony for once. Yet she also knew a part of her was on a constant cycle of "sucking it up" while at them. There was always something that soured the night. Preston being one of those "somethings" before he met his end.

It seemed reasonable, if not logical to Veronica. Maybe she'd take a step back from the party crowd for a bit. At least until things cooled down. Until Heather made it impossible for her to decline without turning it into a whole thing.

It was then J.D. said, "Hang with me instead at night-it certainly would be safer for you." Veronica paused. Not fully, but her brain snapped to attention with that particular kind of recognition it always did when she was sure J.D. must be implying something else through his words.

She stared, expression neutral at first, almost serious, like she was steadying her tone before the punchline. "I'm sorry, what? 'Hang out with you instead at night,' you say?" Her gaze sharpened with playful suspicion as she tilted her head. "Oh, okay. I know what this is really about."

She took one of her fries, and pointed at him with it. Wobbling it in circles like it was evidence, she let the words stretch out with theatrical confidence. "You are just looking for ways to convince me to keep paying you visits at night." Her eyes narrowed, but she was smiling again, clearly entertained. "Well, I hate to break it to you, Mr. J.D., but as I told you earlier today, that will not be happening."

She threw the fry into her mouth and chewed, cutting herself off for half a second with a muffled mumble, as she covered her mouth with her palm. "We have to give it sometime, until Clover forgets about... everything."

After listening to his reply, she lowered her hand and went back to listening, because she couldn't deny his sincerity, and some of what he said was unexpectedly empathetic. Veronica had expected him to brush Preston's death off, or at least treat it like another detail in Westerberg's drama spiral. J.D. had plenty of reasons to dislike the popular crowd, plenty of reasons to see Preston as "deserving" in whatever twisted way he framed things when it suited him.

Yet he wasn't doing that. He was talking about grief, impact, and her safety. It made her think, and feel a little uneasy in a different way. When he asked that question, when he looked at her like there was still something he needed to know, her confidence faltered.

Veronica hesitated before speaking, and she hated that her first instinct was to calculate what would happen if she told him the truth. She'd never even considered telling him the specific kind of uncomfortable details she'd lived through with Preston or any other guy at parties. Not to J.D. Not in this version of their world where he was her comfort and certainty, even when he was hiding pieces.

She remembers telling Heather once how she couldn't stand the idea of lying to J.D. Because trust is important, and she doesn't want their relationship to be built on lies. Yet this wasn't just "keeping a secret." It was repeating the same mistake she made with Martha all over again. Lying and hiding things is like a crack at the bottom of the ocean. Unnoticeable, but catastrophic in its nature.

So she decided to be honest. She told herself she'd be brief, careful, and not get wrapped in too much details. She took a breath, let her words start neutral, then struggled, as if they were heavier than she expected.

"Uuuuuh... Not much, really." Her voice stayed was on its higher pitch side, a litle awkward, and her eyes didn't quite meet his the way they normally did. "You know how all popular guys are. Like Ram, Henry, Kurt; huge dicks. Preston was the same."

As she continued, she hadn't realized it, but she had stopped eating. Her hands folded tighter, arms eventually crossing against herself, back pressing against the booth's backrest like she needed the support. Her voice turned more serious. "I just had some uncomfortable encounters with him at parties is all. I always managed to move past him and he'd go away."

It felt wrong, talking about the person's worst sides when he was gone, especially so recently. But it was also true, and she couldn't pretend truth was something you could just erase because it made other people uncomfortable. Her voice did remain a lower tone now, not wanting anyone around them to overhear. "Feels wrong to talk like this about someone who passed away so recently," she admitted, the initial plan to be brief now forgotten. "But it's who he was. People are trying to make it seem like he was this innocent, perfect guy. They only focus in the bright future he could've had but not the reality of what he did while alive."

Veronica's expression turned more serious as she exhaled through her nose, her annoyance mixing with something angrier underneath. "They're all idiots." She leaned back and let the words land with weight. "Two things can be true: Preston Sullivan was no angel, but he also didn't deserve to die like that; nobody does. He was still a human being who had room to grow."

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. saw how her eyes turned so bright and lively when she looked at him. His playful demeanor with her was always two fold for him. In the darkest days he found the brightest light in the right joke or right expression. Humor was only second best to apathy as a way of coping and numbing after all. When he saw the monsters of the world try to dim her light he’d do his best to keep her nightlight on until dawn by persuading her with a tease or with a nudge. God knows there’s certainly been a lot of monsters out there in their society lately, monsters he could only try to protect her from which he would not fail to do. For when she smiled that sweet, soft little smile of hers that only she could do he never could seem to stop smiling back.

But, her eyes…They were so full of love and care, like she too never wanted this night between them to end. Her worship of him marked in a single look as his worship of her was marked in blood red ink. Their relationship was the treasure he’d cherish until his final days drowning in the inky sea around him. Though of course he knew better than to believe she would ever let him drown. She was his anchor in the shipwreck. So it seemed the iceberg within his heart had melted, and the Titanic was safe to finish its voyage into bright and beautiful times once more. This was the most memorable night he had experienced in a long time and it wasn’t even the only memorable night on the mind this week. How he didn’t want it to be over either. His brightest star was guiding him to greatness as he was guiding her to the safety of a new world where nothing was allowed to breathe pollution into that same newly purified air as her that didn’t see her for the angel she was ever again.

An angel who loved a sinner until he became a god for her and would now carry all the sins of humanity he used to believe he was unable to atone until he made heaven for her. The road to hell is paved in good intentions, Lucifer god’s favorite angel before he fell. Accept there was no road and there was no hell except the other people around them who long turned to dust in his mind by now. Only good intentions and him and her, the only thing that truly mattered…

He observed how she took the matter of his words seriously at first. Her neutrality and apathy were thought to be a good sign. As if he had actually gotten through to her to see things his way, the way things truly were when she wasn’t sticking her head in the sand for her own perception of comfort. That was the Veronica way after all. She’d rather treat the bubonic plague with bandaids than do anything of particular substance to find a cure. He knew better than anyone by now you cure disease by cutting it out like a tumor to the brain. You want to slay the dragon? You cut off its head and Preston’s head, as well as the rest of him, fell from the bullet. A bandaid solution wouldn’t have saved Preston’s soul, nor would a bandaid have fixed the bullet hole bleeding onto everything in its path beneath the surface. If mankind was a crowd of diseased and rabid animals Veronica was the cure and yet she insisted on hanging in the quarantine awaiting her own infection. He never could understand why she puts such high value on what were clearly nothing more than well-groomed mutts waiting to be euthanized. He told her the day they met she needed to work harder keeping her soul clean, if anything he deemed that it appeared she was working backwards from what he instructed. He was trying to shoot some sense into her and it looked to be working.

…Until it wasn’t. Usually he would’ve found humor in her banter back at him, it was one of the things he always loved about her. Where others would bore him she would always have some witty remark in return, something of wisdom to say even in her naivety, something that kept him on his feet and stimulated when nobody else could. He was many things around her, bored was not one such thing. The way she pointed her fry at him in accusation was so expected of her. She made everything she did so relentlessly adorable he couldn’t help but be amused as if she was his perfect daydream he didn’t have to wake up from. It should’ve made him laugh and warranted another joke shared between them for all of time but he wasn’t laughing.

Her defiance of what he wanted was as grading to his mind as it’s always been. He didn’t see the point in taking the Clover thing as seriously as she was. Sure, it was an uncomfortable reality of the situation that they both had been spotted in their night of freedom and pleasure by someone unwanted, but there was nothing they could do about it now. The thought of Clover Dunnstock felt distant, like a bridge long crossed she insisted they cross again. Poor Veronica, always fretting over the smallest of things in life. Looking at molehills like mountains and mountains as goddamn molehills to be gently walked around. Her priorities were never in the right place as his were. Once that oh so focused train of thought of hers left the station there was no changing course, just waiting for her to run out of steam eventually which she often does.

He knew there was more in this world to be focused on than what Clover saw that night and deep down she must’ve known that too. Unless she didn’t actually want him over as it was…

He forced a laugh before putting his hands up in mock-defensive. “Alright. I’m sorry.” He smiled and leaned over the table, not enough to disrupt his food but enough to be closer to her. “We can wait as long as you want if you insist seeing as we still have a couple weeks left of me in town before my dad’s next big gig.”

And there it was, that hint of doubt like a chilly breeze swallowing his mind up in the cold to the point of hypothermia and all it shouldn’t be. The mere thought that Clover wasn’t the only thing keeping Veronica away from him burned in his very being. He knew better than to take those thoughts as anything more than traces of self doubt messing up his mind. To survive in the world self doubt had to be hidden from sight. No feeling, no weakness, no way of getting hurt when they discard you. Life is a revolving door of people and the more you chase the validation of another person the more damned you are to spin forever until they vanish. Well, everything hurts when they leave so you better be ready for the reality to crash in on you eventually.

Yet here he was, sitting in a dinner with a girl he never meant to get this far with knowing he’d have to leave her in no time at all. His eyes went down to his plate, hand gently stirring his fry in a bit of ketchup in an act of self hypnosis. His time in Sherwood, Ohio was coming to an end and fast, Veronica being scooped off his plate to become another story, an old, forgotten tune he’d hum until he forgot how to sing again. Every daydream has to end, every night of love over before it began. He didn’t think he could live in a world where “Veronica Sawyer” was another name he didn’t care to remember, a face he didn’t bother to think off.

He wasn’t who he was when he first stepped foot in Westerberg High that faithful September day. He had become something different, something real. Who was he to be now in this world without her? Who would his heart beat for instead? Who would be the air in his lungs? His reason, his life, the “why” for everything he does? Their love was god, but even gods were a finite thing in this broken world. If he loses the only thing that’s right then everything becomes wrong and there’s no meaning to anything anymore…

“Veronica, I do everything for you. You know that.” He said before looking back up at her. “You do trust me to make sure you’re safe and happy in this cold, uncaring planet, don’t you?”

J.D. could feel the hesitation in Veronica to tell him the truth. Regardless of him already knowing what happened it didn’t exactly instill him with much hope to watch her falter in this moment. This was a test: if cornered would she be honest with him? He knew he’d never lie to her unless it was necessary for her protection but she had been avoiding telling him a vital piece of information he would’ve liked to know far sooner than he was actually told. If El had never ran her mouth like a motor that never knew how to shut off (including to his own detriment as of late now that Heather knew what she knew and had entered the equation. ) then Preston would still be alive to continue his life as a pervader at Veronica’s own expense. Why didn’t she just tell him when she could’ve? He never wanted things to be this way, never wanted his source of information on his girlfriend’s party torment to be from the mouth of someone that wasn’t her. He wasn’t mad at her. Just confused by it all. Though there was no point in fretting on what he couldn’t change either. No, this was about here and now and what Veronica said next to him.

And what she said was the truth as El had told him it was. The fact was Veronica being ever the good natured girl that she was. How could he have ever doubted her in that? As much as he wanted to call her bluff and ask why this was the first time he was hearing of such important matters out of her mouth he knew not to if he didn’t want to blow his own cover. He appreciated her honestly, even if it came rather late and with both hesitation and his own prying. He thought not everything comes out easy to some. Maybe it just hadn’t been the right time in her eyes? A ridiculous notion really-any time something was hurting her at all was the right time to bring it up in his eyes. How was he supposed to make things better for her if she never implied there were things she needed to be improved?

He narrowed his eyes and moved his jaw slightly. “So, I see. Always the jocks and meat heads who never seem to know how to keep their hands to themselves.” He said dryly, a thinly veiled venom lacing his words as he mentally added Henry to the list of assholes on the mind.

“It’s ok.” He says reassuringly. “No need to feel bad for saying what others won’t. People love to romanticize the dead. Make them out to be saints to make themselves feel better about what they said and did in their lifetimes.” J.D. nods before his eyes move away from Veronica and to the rest of the dinner’s customers sitting nearby. “You know you don’t have to take a seat at the pity party. I agree that Preston being dead doesn’t make him any less of what he was in life, an asshole. Rewriting history doesn’t erase the monster we all saw in life, it softens and commodifies them into a perfect, docile package to be sold as a tragedy to be pitied by the masses who never cared. It’s not really about Preston. It never was. People need a victim and a villain to keep them stimulated. Preston a villain, is now the martyr and his killer? Now the villain. Simple as that. It doesn’t matter who Preston actually was, just who they can make him into. But, you have the power to see past the curtain. See the grand old Wonderful Wizard of Oz for what he truly was, a con man with a good narrative and I think that makes you special in more ways than one.”

He couldn’t agree more with the statement people are not very bright. The real ones who really got it had been the ones who understood Preston to be a monster and refused to partake in morning the wicked and unjust, but those were still few and far between compared to the unwavering sympathy he had found in death. Rest assured, he wasn’t worth a cent-much less worth your goddamn empathy even now when nobody can hear his awful attempts at flirtation keeping them up at night besides himself.

He however couldn’t agree with the notion that Preston didn’t deserve to die as he did. He stood in front of his jury and judge and all he did for himself was spew insults and liquor among other things before his ultimate final execution at the hands of god. He likely was never going to change. People never really do, they just develop new facades and skins to blend into the next place they’re needed to. Preston’s mark on the world was nothing remarkable and would be forgotten outside of what his death made him into, barely a dent in the back of a car, a life well wasted in youth. A life that could’ve never deserved more than it got even if Veronica was a believer. In that way he had done him a favor, he gave Preston a story, gave him meaning by being made example of, a final statement and rejection of the type of man he truly was…

“I guess we’ll never know for sure now.” He shrugs indifferently, before his face turns serious again. “What’s done is done, what’s dead is dead and why should we want to dig up what’s been buried?”

[explosiveslurpeelover]

*smacks your lunch tray*

OOPS!!!! Better pick that up, loser!!

@bluefootballlover

J.D. was standing in line in the school’s lunchroom awaiting food as everyone else was. He had been through ten high schools and in that time he had seen many a cafeteria marked by unpleasantness. Some were rather small and more so like a confined space, far too many hungry teenagers in such a small place often lead to them all eating each other so it seemed. Survival of the fittest is truly at its most applicable among teenagers when there’s only one mozzarella stick left for the taking during the lunch period. Some cafeterias strove to be larger in scale which were much appreciated by him. He always preferred the larger cafeterias after all. More space overall lead to more benefits. But, that’s even when he ate in the cafeteria at all.

He often preferred to bag the cafeteria and sit somewhere else, usually somewhere more quiet as he ate such as the library or the hallway. And when he did choose to bear the scar of sitting among his classmates he would still rather sit alone with a book as his company. You see, lunchrooms had a certain hierarchy, they were separated into groups and cliques. Where you sat was relevant to your so called “reputation” it appeared. The popular eagles and vultures sat together at the top of the pyramid, the intermediate snakes trying to slither their way up to the top sat in a corner of their own, eyes envious of the predators with more teeth. The frogs at the bottom are sat and mocked in the corner without any sunlight, as if it would kill them to be ok with what they truly are and yet all of them remain cannibals just in different breed. He rejected that notion outright completely. He’d rather be the pariah than play nice with the bird brains, the venomous, and the gross.

This wasn’t always the case however. In the rare instance Veronica was “allowed” to sit with him he’d very much rather sit with her. He found it frustrating how she acted like free will and simply choosing the path he did in social warfare was futile but he knew there wasn’t much left for him to do besides wave her off from his own table of solitude and isolation where he finds comfort. Make the occasional goofy expression to garner her joy as he watched her sit in the soul sucker’s den with his own apathetic resentment of the situation at hand. It was the price of dating popular at the end of the day.

As he stood waiting in the lunch line he had his book laying open on his empty tray to get ahead on the next chapter before his attempt was interrupted by Ram Sweeney smacking his tray. He had observed Ram’s childish and boorish fixation with smacking lunch trays but not yet in his couple weeks of living in Sherwood, Ohio was the victim of such prank. If he hadn’t known better he wouldn’t thought Ram himself would’ve known better than to antagonize him after their first encounter in the same cafeteria. He didn’t flinch as the tray fell on the floor, his book going down with it. He knew better than to give Ram the satisfaction he would’ve wanted by eliciting a reaction. God knows he could only hope the book falling didn’t mess up his bookmark. How else would he be able to finish that thrilling chapter lighting his mind ablaze on this dull and dreary school day?

He stood there for a while staring at his fallen tray before finally rolling his eyes and pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he turned to face Ram slowly.

“How mature of you, indeed. Does it spark something in your hollowed out, debauched spirit to see my tray go down like your IQ? I don’t know what your problem is but, you know I must insist on you picking up the tray yourself, book included. Books light a fire in a sea full of dull-witted individuals with brains mushier than the mashed potatoes on the floor right there next to the lunch tray you just smacked. Maybe you should try it so you don’t end up smacking those lunch trays at this very same high school until you’re old enough to be in the nursing home. There’s really no need for someone of your ignorance when you’re old, mushy, and no longer of use because you can’t play ball with the pros anymore.” J.D. grabs his tray off the ground slowly, pointing at the cafeteria counter and all its food. “It’s food for thought really.”

He grins smugly, amusing himself before his face turns serious again as he flips Ram off with a slow, condescending head shake.

[imightbebeautiful]

J.D. walks up behind Veronica and wraps his arms around her in the hallway. It was Monday. He had not seen her in a couple days now due to her being busy with her sleepover with Martha and him being busy himself with other matters.

He appeared to be in a good mood. Well, good mood for him, that is. Though he was clinging to her slightly, like she’d vanish immediately if he let her go.

He wasn’t usually like that unless something was wrong…

“Hey, haven’t seen you around lately.” He teases with a playful smile. He sounds maybe a little too casual. “Have a fun weekend? I didn’t miss anything of substance, did I?”

- @explosiveslurpeelover 💣🖤🥤

Relaxing into the embrace when the alarm bells ceased once she realised it was J.D., Veronica turned around to face him while still in his arms.

"Well, 'hey' to you too, my elusive other half," she teases with an uncontrollable warm smile. "Where have you been? Don't tell me you've been off training with the ninja turtles without me."

It wasn't until she looked at him, actually looked, that she realised something felt off, and not in the usual J.D. way. No, she was used to that by now. While others may find said demeanor intimidating, Veronica is fond of it, as she is of every part of him. Regardless, she couldn't pinpoint what was throwing her off. Overall, he seemed fine. Maybe that's exactly it, that his spirits seem to be better than usual, or the fact he's grasping onto her with unwavering firmness.

"I had a great weekend, actually," her eyes seem to soften as memories of the sleepover come to her mind. "The sleepover was a total success. Martha and I got to catch up, we had so much fun watching movies, doing our nails and makeup, and just— Finally getting to spend time together."

Suddenly, her mouth twists into an awkward grimace. "Friday though, was a bit... hectic."

[explosiveslurpeelover]

“No, the ninja turtles were busy.” He smirks, clearly in a mischievous mood.

His face remains as still as possible when asked what he was doing that weekend. It’s not a mistake he didn’t answer the question, he was deliberately avoiding it. He has a plan for getting away with the crime (if anything he already mostly has) and a cover story that had worked on the cops already. But lying to Veronica was a different matter entirely…

He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain what he did that night to her. If he even should do so in the first place. He knows by societal and legal expectations what he did was “wrong” even if he didn’t agree in the slightest. He fears the thought of her leaving him alone over something as small as this more than almost anything else. The combination of his fear of her abandonment and his guilt that he hadn’t been able to protect her from Preston sooner bubbles up to the surface.

He can’t let her go in any capacity. If anything he wants to pull her even tighter. He’s already trying to soften the inevitable blow with as much affection and sweet words as possible. Like somehow all the kisses and I love yous in the world can bury the boy he killed for her deeper into the ground. He did it to protect her. For the love of her. She could understand that, right?

Could she possibly understand if he did it again, too?

He listens to her talk about her weekend with Martha with upmost attention and interest. He’s genuinely glad to hear things had went well. He didn’t know Martha as well as Veronica did nor really cared to but he knew for a fact she was a better person than any of Veronica’s other so called-friends he made it clear he despised so much. He was also partially relieved to know she had been successfully distracted that weekend. Maybe she doesn’t even know about Preston yet at all? This could give him control over the situation and narrative to soften the blow further…

“You sound happy. I suppose you had a good sleepover, then.”

His face drops slightly at the mention of Friday. Had something happened he didn’t know about? Was she ok? Did she need him as much as he needed her right now.

“What’s wrong? Something happen Friday?” He tries to ask casually but his mind was already running a million miles a minute.

[imightbebeautiful]

"Okay, maybe 'hectic' is an overreaction," she's quick to correct herself once she saw how his face changed to something resembling worry.

"It's more like two... inconveniences that made a dent on my day, nothing new." A fleeting dismissive hand accompanied her words. "Can't be too happy 'round good ol' Westerburg High."

Veronica was undermining the effect both situations had in her overall mood that day. When she looks at the big picture, the second was a tad silly, it simply caused her to feel majorly embarrassed. The other one, however, was more serious to her. And what makes the matter worse, J.D. was involved in it. She hadn't had the time to bring it up to him, but she'd do it now. She needed to know what he had said to her and why. Veronica can only hope it won't turn into a big conflict. They had just seen each other again after three days apart. A fight is the last thing she wants.

"I guess I'll get the less serious thing out of the way," she began, awkwardness starting to bubble up inside her. She knew what she had to do, just rip the band-aid without giving herself time to hesistate or overthink it.

"So, long story short, a kinda new student that also happens to be Martha's cousin approached me. She was very friendly, and I know she only had good intentions but..." There was a pause, a deep breath, and just like a puffer fish deflating, she spat it all out.

"Inbetweenallofherramblingshetoldmeshe'syourneighborandheardusonenightIwenttoyourhousesonowIhavetoliveknowingthatsomeoneouthereknowsandheardintimatestuffaboutme—" Veronica finally gasps for air and lets her forehead hit his chest, feeling like a book with a broken spine: exposed and defeated.

"Anyway, I won't pay you any visits any time soon," she said, unsure herself of how much truth or jest her statement contained.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. softens slightly. He wasn’t really happy something was bothering Veronica at all, much less two different things at once. But, hearing it was only two small things brought him a slight comfort and relief. She could be wanting to talk to him about much worse matters after all…

He tilts his head, watching and listening to her like she was the only thing in the school to him in that moment. He’s still on edge somewhat, still almost expecting to hear about gunshots and dead preps. But, he tries with every part of his being to focus on her words and the feeling of her in his arms. Safe. Where she should be. He was doing all of this for her safety after all. He knows he’s using her as an anchor while everything around him feels like it could sink away from him at any moment, but by god he needs her most right now.

He knows his embrace is a safe place for her, but being able to hold her makes him feel safe as well. A small, almost microscopic part of him began to wonder if what he did was wrong. But, it’s quickly smothered by the feeling of her. The knowledge that she was standing here, not in tears and broken by a world that doesn’t deserve her and that what he did had protected her even for just a second overrides the guilt quickly. Maybe that gunshot bloodied his soul forever, maybe it cleaned it up instead. But, even then he knew her love was his only saving grace.

His eyes light up with recognition at the mention of Martha’s cousin Clover. She had stopped by to talk with him too one night recently with a Slurpee in her hand. It was merely a casual conversation but one that had went on longer than J.D. typically would speak to people.

“Clover Dunnstock, right? I see…she stopped by my place too. Nice enough. Talks too much.”

J.D.’s eyes widen at the revelation. If he was being honest he hadn’t thought too much about the fact the neighbors might’ve heard them that night after the homecoming party from Hell. He hadn’t really been thinking about anything that night that wasn’t Veronica. The thought people knew what they did instilled a bit of discomfort in him. But, it was too late to do much about it besides live with the consequences. Though the way Veronica said everything in one breath almost made him want to burst out laughing.

“Woah, slow down. It’s ok. It’s a little late to do anything about it now. What’s done is done. We can’t exactly go back in time and fix it, can we?” He suddenly puts his hands on her shoulders. He wasn’t exactly taught how to be super comforting but he’s trying his best to soothe her worries.

That last part warrants a genuine but flirty smile from him.

“Oh, really? Well, I guess it’s going to get really lonely in my bedroom without my favorite girl coming in through my window.”

He takes a small pause before suddenly turning a bit serious again.

“And the second thing bothering you?”

[imightbebeautiful]

"I know, I know," she sighed, ready to drop the subject now that she finally let her discomfort out. "I just had to talk about it. It was hunting nightmares, I swear." Unsurprisingly, telling J.D. made her feel a bit better. Of course, she couldn't go to just anyone, she hadn't even told Martha, and she wasn't sure she ever would. She guesses some things are just meant to stay between her and her boyfriend, and that's fine.

She raised her head again to meet his eyes when she felt him hold her shoulders. It was his attempt to sooth her worries, she was sure. And, even if awkward, she found it sweet. The irony came when he effortlessly replied with a flirty remark to the last thing she said. Seriously, how come he finds it difficult to comfort her yet flirting comes naturally? She isn't bothered by it, of course. It honestly amuses her.

"You'll live, Rapunzel," she teased, and would've kept on entertaining their banter if he hadn't reminded her to continue with her second issue.

"Right, um, the second thing, uh..." Her hesitation was clear, she's aware. She put some distance between them, gently removing his hands from her shoulders and holding them for a few seconds before letting go.

"Just to be clear, I don't want this to turn into a big fight. And I'm not accusing you of anything. I just... I want to know what you said to Heather Mac last Friday." Her eyes don't leave his face, wanting to gauge his reaction. "I went to thank her for telling me about Heather and the whole photos situation. And, well, it came up in our conversation that you had approached her, and you both talked about some stuff going on in her life. She never exactly told me what it was but she seemed troubled. What did you tell her?"

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. was relieved that he could feel even just a fraction of the tension in Veronica let up about the issue. He didn’t like seeing her panicked or tense in the slightest, especially when it was something he couldn’t fix for her immediately. All he could do was be there for her right now and that had to work for him. Even if he wished he could’ve done more to help. Well, at least she’s a bit more comfortable now…

He was glad to see her in a teasing mood again. His signature smirk was starting to creep back onto his face again. He has already begun to brace himself to hear about the second thing bothering her, however. Fearing the worst outcome but hoping if the first thing bothering her was so small by comparison to what he did at the party maybe it wouldn’t be too bad for him to manage?

The hesitation in her voice and the way she delicately takes his hands off her shoulders to hold them sends him into a small internal frenzy. He looks down at their hands entwined, how they were meant to be, and suddenly feels scared and small again. But, he manages to continue to find a small comfort in just being able to touch her at all that is quickly lost when she finally lets go.

He can tell she wants psychical space for whatever she’s about to say next and he hates that. Why could she possibly want space from him right now? They were just having a good time a moment ago, right? Does she know what he did…? He wants to close the space between them again, but he stands frozen and stiff instead. He tries to respect her wish for space as she tells him about the next thing, even if it’s burning him to not be able to hold her in any capacity right now.

The mention of Heather McNamara instills a completely new problem. He had completely forgotten about his conversation with Heather Mac already if he was being honest. Friday felt like a millennium ago to him after what he did Saturday night…

“So, I see. I wonder what Heather Mac could’ve been troubled by. Nothing ended up coming from it.”

All traces of that smirk on his lips were gone. In its place a confused expression. Like he genuinely didn’t know what she was talking about. He was avoiding the question again.

“We could always talk about this over something to eat after school? Feels like ages since we’ve been on a real date, you know?”

A smile had returned to his face and he was trying to sound light and airy. But, his arms were now behind his back, trying to hide that he was fidgeting with the button on his duster sleeve, which was usually a telltale sign he was uncomfortable about something…

He was trying to buy himself some more time to come up with a smoother way to get through this conversation, or better yet, never even have it at all. He didn’t want to fight with her either.

[imightbebeautiful]

A deep frown takes over her features, she can't help it. J.D. doesn't know? At least that's what Veronica understood from his vague response. But it makes no sense. It doesn't align with what Heather told her. She vividly recalls how she said J.D. approached her, and gave some "extreme advice." That's exactly what she wants to know: What was that extreme advice? They talked, he adviced her, therefore he must know what was troubling her, plain and simple.

So if that's the case, why did he just say he also wonders what was troubling Mac? Was he... lying? But why? Could he have said something so wrong he doesn't want Veronica to know? Why is he hiding things from her? That's not how a relationship should work. That's not how she wants them to be.

Although... maybe she's the one in the wrong. She was too focused on the first half of his words she forgot to pay attention to the rest. His suggestion to go talk about it over something to eat could just mean he doesn't want to talk about it now. And if that's the case, then Veronica can completely understand. After all, they're in the middle of a hallway at school. Ugh, that's too many prying ears for her comfort; privacy is important. Still, that doesn't explain the lie...

Veronica decides to brush it off for now. She must be overthinking, the usual. He said they'll talk about it after school and she'll take his word for it. Besides, she's also missed their little dates and spending time with together.

"You know what? Yeah, sure, let's do that," the smile came back to her face as she replied, no trace of the building tension her thoughts had caused a moment ago.

"But we'll be getting some real food, mister. Have you been to Ben's yet? Little diner on Main street? Their burgers are to die for, and they're pretty generous with the pickles," she explains with growing enthusiasm at the idea.

Her hands find their way to the collar of his checked shirt. If she's honest, there's nothing in need of adjustment, but she pretends there is, using it as an excuse to get close again. "Don't worry, we can grab a Slurpee afterwards," her eyes slowly move back up to his, tilting her head as she continues, "Or we can share a milkshake. Whatever you're craving."

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. feels more at ease hearing Veronica agree to his date idea. If he was being honest, he had genuinely been missing their dates. He had been missing seeing her in general lately though. The last couple days felt like centuries had passed for him now. Everything felt completely different and yet somehow exactly the same all at once, even after having killed someone. This date could be good for them, you know? A chance to catch up and to be close to her again as they should always be.

But, even in the back of his mind he knew this was just a bandaid solution to a bullet hole problem, quite literally too. He bought himself a couple hours to figure out how to soften the blow of the truth of what he said to Heather Mac, to preserve their relationship, and hopefully prevent the conversation of Preston coming up at all. He knew she’d understand eventually, or at least she should understand that everything he’s ever done since they met was for her and only her. But, he didn’t know how to tell her the truth without it blowing up in his face faster than an explosive from his dad’s personal home collection.

Hopefully, this date could also be used to rework the narrative of what he did in his favor, or if he got really lucky he wouldn’t ever have to tell her about either matter. If keeping the truth from her protects her and the love they share then he’s more than willing to let the truth and past die with Preston.

“Ok, ok!” He chuckles at her insistence that they go to a real restaurant for once.

“Haven’t been there myself but you know, I trust your judgment. I haven’t been here that long like you have, if anyone knows Sherwood’s sweet spots I assume it would be you. If you like it, I’m sure I’ll like it too.”

He smiles fondly as her hands play with his shirt collar. He knows she’s doing it as an excuse to get close to him again but he’s not going to call her out on it. He doesn’t object in the slightest. He was desperate to feel her warmth again after she pulled away even if it was a rather short lived development. He leans in to kiss her.

“Sounds good to me. I can’t say no to that. You choose, ok? I’ll be satisfied either way. Perfect date with the perfect girl does that to a guy like me.”

Though the thought of a Slurpee sounded good right about now, he wanted to let her choose. Anything that would make this date go easier for her was much wanted and appreciated…

[imightbebeautiful]

“Trust me, your taste buds are in good hands,” she had assured, happy to know she would be introducing a new place in town to him. Maybe she should do this more often show more of town to J.D. that is. As much as she gets bored of Sherwood and wishes to get away, there are certain places she enjoys and can even go as far as to say she’s fond of. “There’s no place like home,” or however the quote goes.

The moment J.D. leaned in for a kiss, she laughed mischievously inside her head. Her plan had worked, well, it always did. Subtle proximity goes a long way. But who truly has the upper hand here when she’s the one with a dumb look on her face once they break it apart? For the first few seconds, his words sound like gibberish, and she nods along to whatever it is he’s saying.

Eventually, she does refocus and listens to what he’s saying, only to be met with his usual sudden compliments. While she bashfully nudges and taps his shoulders and chest in what then became a playful exchange between the two, Veronica can't help but hope things always stay like this.

After school they fell into their usual routine when it came to heading somewhere on J.D.'s motorbike. She would hop on, wrap her arms securely around his waist, and he would drive around town at a slower speed than necessary. Now wether that is because he doesn't want her to get scared or because he likes to prolongue the little journey to their destination, she's not sure.

Veronica doesn't complain, however. Why would she when she also enjoys it? The sound of whatever tune J.D. has been humming filling her ears, the soft autumn wind definitely making her hair frizzy, watching the people walk by, J.D. stopping his humming to ask her when's the left turn comin— She lifted her head up from where it had been resting on his back this whole time. An awkward laugh escaped her and she tells him to make a U-turn on the next light since she they had missed it.

Anyway, what can she say? It's always a great time.

Once they finally reach the street where Ben's is located, J.D. parallel parked along the curb just a few spots away from the front of the small diner. Even from the outside one could see it wasn't busy, which Veronica had hoped and expected. She's come to learn her boyfriend isn't one to enjoy crowded places or too much noise so this seemed like the perfect spot.

"Tadaaa! Here it is: Ben's Diner. It's nothing fancy, but trust me, the food's good. Not too greasy, not too dry— Well, you'll see for yourself. C'mon, let's go," she said grabbing his hand and walking to the familiar light green building.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

For once, J.D. seemed to be almost taking pleasure in the mundane routine. He knew how it goes, Veronica got on the back of his motorbike after school and would give him directions to the location of the diner they would be having their date in.

He always seemed to go a bit slower when traveling with her on the back of his motorbike. When it was just him, he was more likely to drive with reckless abandon. But, with her the trip was always easy and steady. Almost like she was precious cargo he was driving around. Because to him, she was. Not that he was ever complaining, a longer trip around town meant more time with her anyway.

Though, today it felt like the drive was longer than usual for him. Maybe it was because he was less familiar with the destination? Or maybe he was truly just going slower than usual? Either way, the only thing that seemed to be keeping him at ease at all was Veronica’s arms around his waist and her voice guiding him around.

His mind kept wanting to drift away to other places, to Heather and their interaction prior in the day, to Heather Mac and what he had said to her even if it felt like centuries had passed between then and now, to Preston Sullivan’s corpse that night and the way the blood and booze formerly in his hand pooled on the ground in distorted harmony. There was a beauty in the ugliness, like it was how it was always meant to be. Even if he sometimes felt Preston was still mocking him from beyond the grave with the threat of exposure and the collapse of the relationship that mattered to him most.

But, none of that seemed to matter to him anymore. He knew the road he was on was unfamiliar, her voice the only thing guiding him forward. He hums a tune to himself as he always did, the music giving a certain clarity. The humming in his throat and the humming of the motorbike washing away all background noise besides him and her, as if he can use it to blind himself from his own lack of knowledge of where the end of his road might be heading and the future collision in store now.

He awaits her every direction, for where would he go without her direction? And maybe that’s the unspoken truth behind his hum: there is no true path forward for a guy like him without Veronica Sawyer to guide him onwards to the next place…

Once they arrive at the diner at long last he takes notice to how unbusy the location appeared to be. Normally, he would be skeptical of a restaurant with few patrons as that’s not always the best sign of a restaurant’s food being desirable. But, he trusted Veronica’s judgement on the matter implicitly. Maybe it just wasn’t rush hour there yet? Either way, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn’t particularly like busy restaurants anyway. He found noise in a condensed place with no escape mentally claustrophobic.

As he walked into the diner with her and they got seated he was feeling many things. A warm and fuzzy excitement in his soul to be back on a date with his lover, a quaint curiously to understand another part of her world, and a cautious screaming clobbering in the back of his mind that this can’t truly last. A fear that the past was going to catch up to him fast and there was nothing he could actually do to stop it. But, he numbed the feeling out as fast as it came. Being apathetic to one’s true feelings seemed to be his natural state more often than not. It’s worked before, it will work again. Besides, he didn’t actually do anything wrong, did he? Not when it’s for her he doesn’t…

“So, any recommendations from the menu since you know the place so well?” He asked, squinting overdramatically like an old man in need of glasses as he looked at the menu in a cheesy attempt at making her laugh.

[imightbebeautiful]

As they both settle into the familiar booth, the warm, inviting atmosphere of the diner envelops her. It feels like visiting an old friend. Veronica's arms rest on the scratched formica table while she happily listens to the faint chatter of the few other patrons in the background.

This place has been a constant in her life. She remembers it being much more busier when she was a kid. But ever since the arrival of malls, these local businesses lost most of their clientele to them. It's a shame, honestly. She was glad to know Ben's was still standing despite its decrease in clients. It's rare to see people her age around here. From what Veronica has gathered, the common demographic consists mostly of tired workers, the elderly, and the occasional nuclear family.

At least this was all a plus on their case. It means there are less chances of running into any other Westerberg students. The perfect place to discuss personal matters without worrying of being overheard. She's sure they'll get back to that conversation eventually. Hopefully it'll be quick so they can continue their date without any problem.

Her eyes had been roaming through the menu when she heard J.D. speak. She looks up only for a snort to escape her at the sight of him; so silly.

"Well, gramps," she starts, amusement reflected on her grin and the shimmer in her eyes. "I'd say you have to go with a burger, 'it's the signature dish of the house'." She hopes he can recognize his own words in hers. Enthusiastic, she lays down her menu on the table and points at the different sections while she continues. "What're you in the mood for? If you want a more breakfast type of burger —because breakfast is an all day event— then maybe go with the ones under 'Hearty Brunch'. There's also the classics, or if you're feeling more adventurous like me, choose one under 'Buns from beyond'. I pers—"

Veronica came to a stop as she was reminded of something crucial. "Wait, I gotta ask: Are you allergic to anything? Better keep that in mind, because, uh," her smile tenses and an awkward chuckle blows out of her now tightned teeth. "Well, long story short, when Mal and I— you remember Mal, right? Mallory. One of my cousins, we're really close.— Anyhow, when we were around seven or eight I gave her some of my reese's pieces without knowing about her peanut allergy and uh... Yeah, she still brings that up all the time. I could've become a murderer at such a young age! Crazy, right?" She laughs it off, because thank goodness she can.

It was a valid and simple enough question. She hopes he doesn't have any allergies, but it's important to know if he does. What kind of girlfriend would she be if she doesn't know such important things!

[explosiveslurpeelover]

For J.D., it felt nice to be sitting in such a warm and welcoming environment with the person he loved so much. Especially with how life had been for him lately. He had been to many a diner on the road. But, he has never been to one that had felt this cozy and open. Must’ve been the mom and pop’s shop ambiance of the place. Like a local’s secret he had just happened to be let in on. Since he didn’t really get to know the locals of each state he moved to he never had anyone to show him around before and often preferred to stick with the usual places and routines. Though his company for the meal might’ve helped with the fuzzy feelings in his chest more than anything else for that matter.

He watches the way Veronica happily listens to all the faint noise in the background, like she was in her element here. She looked stunning to him like this, under the light of a place she deemed comforting. He knew what it was like to find comfort in a constant place in your life. Even if his constant place was likely more emotionally intimate than it was intimate to the environment around him. He imagined Veronica had many stories to tell about growing up in and around this little diner. He hadn’t had a place like that really since Texas and a part of him longed for one. But, he could never forsake his beloved 7-Elevens. That didn’t stop the small ache in his chest that seemed to be mixing with the warm and fuzzy feelings however.

It was an indisputable fact that Veronica and him had simply lived different lives and as a result, had different experiences. Veronica’s world was small and intimate, she had been surrounded by the same town and its people her whole life. There was a beauty to that he could find, places like Ben’s can be a constant and the people around you get to grow up with you. No need for goodbyes or fear of planting roots for a garden you’ll have to witness decay when it’s time for you to pack your things and leave. Sometimes he couldn’t believe this was the world Veronica had grown up in. It sounded like a pretty fantasy to him and nothing more.

J.D.’s world on the other hand was everywhere and nowhere at once. A constant string of new and unfamiliar places and suitcases packed in the den. It was a world lacking in hellos but full of goodbyes. He could agree to the notion that there was one good thing this lifestyle had given him that Veronica’s hadn’t given her: clarity. He had seen more of the world and its people and through the pain of it all had found an understanding for how mankind truly was. He almost pitied Veronica’s naivety. Her ability to see life as something beautiful and its people as inherently good. He had seen far too much to be able to agree no matter how much he would’ve wanted to.

He smirked at her calling him “gramps.” He had always felt distinctly older than his age would allow so it seemed appropriate. Her parroting his own words back to him about 7-Eleven in relation to Ben’s only sealed the connection between the two that he had already picked up on in his head. It made him feel fond to remember that first night again. The night his life would be changed forever and he would begin to know how to be a human being again. It somehow felt like yesterday and also months ago now.

If he was being honest, he hadn’t been keeping track of how long he had been living in Sherwood. Which was unusual for him. He was usually practically counting the days. Maybe because he didn’t want to know how much time he had left with Veronica…

“So, I’m guessing this is your 7-Eleven then.”

J.D. watches as Veronica tenses up on the question of if he was allergic to anything. His face drops slightly, clearly concerned as to why she suddenly stopped herself to ask such a question.

“No, I’m not allergic to anything. Just a little anemic. Why? What’s wrong?”

He listens to her story about her cousin Mallory. And quite the story it evidently was. He knew of Veronica’s cousin from how often Veronica would talk about her but this was the first time he was hearing of any allergen-related issues. He wasn’t surprised to hear Veronica had made that type of mistake as a kid, most kids do and it clearly wasn’t that big of a deal anymore or else she wouldn’t be laughing. Especially since Veronica had very different standards on what was considered funny compared to him…

He would’ve joined in on the joke if it wasn’t for that last part. “I could've become a murderer at such a young age! Crazy, right?" He cringed before he could stop himself even if he tried to hide it from her as fast as possible. He had assumed this wasn’t a slight on him as she likely still didn’t seem to know what he had done to Preston. But, even so the timing was rather unfortunate for him and he was taken completely off guard by it.

He looks up at the ceiling, eyebrows going up as if concentrating on something that isn’t there. He smiles and looks back down to face Veronica once again, trying to salvage the situation before he himself wants to go into Anaphylactic shock to get away from the topic of murder.

“Hmm, I trust your judgment and am always willing to go with a little adventure in my life.” He says, his eyes drawn back down to the menu in front of him as his fingers tapped on the edge of the paper. “Maybe something under 'Buns from beyond'?”

[imightbebeautiful]

"Yeah, in a way," Veronica had paused for a brief moment, replying to his comparison between this diner and J.D.'s own comfort place, 7-Eleven. "I don't visit it as much as you do 7-Elevens, but when I do, it always brings back fond memories. And hey, I'm happy to be creating more with you right now." Her last words were carried by a wave of mellowness, which returned back to the shore with enthusiasm as she started helping him decide what to order. That was, of course, before she paused to ask about any possible allergies, and made the lighthearted joke by the end of her story.

Because of her own laughter, she could've almost missed J.D.'s immidiate reaction to what she deemed a normal and amusing anecdote. However, she didn't, she saw it all too well. His face contorted into what she could only assume was discomfort. Did she say something wrong? She would've asked this exact question, hating the idea of hurting his feelings, but she didn't because she couldn't. In the blink of an eye, his face had returned to normal, depriving her of the opportunity to address it.

That alone triggered the flood. It was familiar, way too familiar for her own comfort. Thoughts, over thoughts, over thoughts, filled her mind; the level rising. All while she goes back to helping him choose something from the menu. He asked for a recommendation under 'Buns from beyond', right? Yeah, he did.

Acting casual, trying to fall back into the lighthearted mood, she tells him which burgers she likes the most, and which one will she go with today. She isn't sure if it works but, what else could she do? He avoided something again. He wasn't telling her something again. She had no clue what was going on inside her boyfriend's mind, again. Would she ever? It's like he never lets her in, not completely.

Conviniently, just when J.D. had made his choice, the waitress came back to take their order. The presence of a third person seemed to help Veronica emerge from her torrent of thoughts. The haziness took a backseat, and she put a friendlier smile upon her face while she told her order.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

J.D. had presumed Veronica likely didn’t visit her favorite local burger place nearly as often as he would visit the 7-Eleven. If she had it would be rather impressive she hadn’t taken him before. In the worst of times, he’d visit 7-Eleven every day just to feel something, only really living for the sweet frozen rush only a Slurpee could provide him. It was another way their lives didn’t align with one another’s. Her place of optimal comfort was warm light in a world of dark, a privilege but not a necessity to stand to go on living. For him? He experienced the opposite sensation. A 7-Eleven trip was not an occasional stop on the road but a necessary constant to stay afloat in life. If he didn’t want to open a vein he had to freeze his brain. It was the only way he could come close to truly living.

“I get it. I appreciate you letting me come with. Seems like a nice place. Certainly can’t imagine you hanging here as much as I hang at 7-Eleven seeing as you would be drowning in burgers by now.” He teased her before his voice became sincere again. “You know, you could take me anywhere really as long as I’m there with you.”

His face softened hearing the calm in Veronica’s voice. She appeared so mellow, so in her element as she shared her comfort place as he did with 7-Eleven that first night they knew each other. He knew how sacred that was, to be trusted enough to share this part of her world with him, someone she hadn’t even known all that long all things considered. Seemed appropriate as right now, she was all he could trust in the world. That look in her eyes, that enthusiasm in her voice. Without that he wouldn’t ever know peace again. She was his world and he was lucky to be allowed to share it with her. This was how it was always meant to be between them. Their love as sacred as any Ben’s or 7-Elevens or even more so. He didn’t just love her, he worshipped her and she had to feel the same about him too. He’d make the whole world disappear if she needed him to. He’d trade his life for hers if it meant she could live happily another day more.

Her name was the prayer he had been looking for in the icy pain he formerly swam in. He wasn’t a religious man himself in any way, he had given up on God as being anything more than a cruel and unusual joke people had merely made up to give their suffering purpose when there was none to be found at all.

Their love was more of a god to him than any god ever could be. Their love WAS God.

“Our love is God~” He thought to himself like a prayer, his new mantra to live by. Because if he lives on their love forever then there’s nothing he can’t do for her. He could start and finish wars, kill the dinosaurs, be the asteroid that’s overdue. He could be whatever she needed him to be. Anything and everything at all to keep her looking like that…

His mind quickly switched gears to the menu and Veronica’s casual recommendations on what to eat. If she was willing to try his beloved Slurpee he could spare taking her meal recommendation. The tension in the conversation appeared to be gone for him by the time their food had arrived. His burger of choice was delicious as he would’ve expected it to be from Veronica’s recommendation. Of course Veronica has yet again never failed to steer him in a direction he could trust. The food was good, the company even better. Call him an optimist once again but, the rest of the night was seemingly going to go without anymore hitches or the risk of fighting.

That is, until the people in the booth behind them had begun talking:

“Did you hear? They’re holding a memorial for the Sullivan kid next week…God, what a tragedy. He was only 17. Can’t imagine how the parents are holding up…”

J.D. starts chewing the fry in his mouth slower than he was before, concentrating less on digestion and more so having his alibi ready to go if needed. It needed to be good enough to fool Veronica after all. He had hoped the topic at hand would not come up tonight. Maybe Veronica still hadn’t even heard yet? He still didn’t know what she knew about Preston’s death aside from that it had been the talk of the whole town and their classmates lately.

Of course he still didn’t see the whole thing as the tragedy most of Sherwood had painted it to be. His and Veronica’s love was God, thus making them gods as well. And a goddess on earth like her doesn’t deserve to be tormented by a cannibal like Preston. His death was a necessary evil born out of protection. His way of shielding her from the cruel world they both shared with the rest of humanity. Preston died because he decided he must. That the world would be better off without someone like him in it. That the world needed more room for the two of them and their love.

Sure, he could always try to come clean about what he had done but knew he couldn’t. Not anymore. There it was again. That seed of doubt poisoning his mind. The thought she wouldn’t see things his way until it was too late for them. That she’d give up on him and leave him. The thought she could chuck him out like he was trash alone was too much for him to handle. It was a lie. Claiming innocence and all that. But, what else was he supposed to do? The lie was good for her. It kept her safe. Kept her content. Kept her his. What’s so bad about that? It was the right thing to do after all. He was being a good boyfriend. Lovers sacrifice it all for the ones they love and he’d lay it all on the line for this moment between them to last a little longer.

“Ok, tell me, how’s the burger then?” He asked intently with a smile, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his fist before popping another fry in his mouth. Almost as if he was subtly trying to talk over the obvious conversation unfolding behind them.

[imightbebeautiful]

After the waitress departed with their menus, the mundane rhythm of their conversation resumed, filling the air with a lightness that seemed to wrap around her like a comforting breeze. Yet, beneath that surface calm, the familiar pattern remained in the back of her mind: J.D. was still holding something back, the faint shadow of... a secret? Discomfort? It is the very fact she has no idea what it is that bothers her so much. Every time it happened, she found herself torn between the impulse to pry deeper or simply let it slide, hoping it wasn’t as important as it felt.

For now, they were enjoying the simple pleasure of being together after many days apart. What else could she ask for? It was a welcome distraction from how heavy the weight of the world seemed to press these days.

The moment their food arrived, a sense of contentment washed over her. With a brief happy noise, she grabbed her burger, containing extra pickles as she had asked for. The taste of familiarity mingled with the cheerful exchanges between bites.

As they dug into their meals, a lull settled around them, the faint sound of chewing filling the space. It was then Veronica's attention drifted to the booth behind them, where a familiar topic began to be discussed in their conversation.

“Did you hear? They’re holding a memorial for the Sullivan kid next week… God, what a tragedy. He was only 17. Can’t imagine how the parents are holding up…”

This last bite of her burger went down her throat like heavy rocks, pulling her mind into a torrent of memories. Preston Sullivan. A name she associated with all the worst parts of high school. She had first heard the news while eating breakfast and listening to a local news station. He was the typical rich, preppy guy who paraded entitlement like a badge of honor while harassing girls at parties. Veronica recalled her own encounters with him, moments when he had... crossed lines that should never be crossed. Each time, she had brushed it off, choosing not to make a scene, to not anger Heather Chandler. Too many had endured worse, she'd thought, even if it left a bitter taste in her mouth that she was sure was not caused by the house sauce in her food.

Now, as she listened to all of Westerberg and Sherwood's distorted discussions on the topic, she felt somewhat conflicted. Even though he was undoubtedly a huge dick, no one deserved such a violent end. Yet, he also didn't deserve to be glorified, he was no Saint Peter. The details were still murky; the police had failed to find the killer, which was unsurprising to her. As much as she tried to fight it, the thought gnawed at her, an unsettling reality sticking into her meal.

J.D.'s voice pierced through her preoccupation, lifting her back up, arnchoring her to their table. She met his gaze, trying to shake off the heaviness as a smile returned to her lips at what she saw. He looked adorable, munching his fries as he stared straight at her awaiting a reply.

"It's as good as always. Craving has been successfully satisfied," she said, relief washing over her as she took another bite and grabbed some napkins when she felt residue sauce at the corner of her mouth. But the thoughts of Preston's death lingered like an unwelcome guest. "Hey, so… I'm guessing you've heard about what happened to Preston, right? Preston Sullivan? Everyone at Westerberg has been talking about it."

The question hung in the air between them, tinted with curiosity. Veronica spoke hoping her feelings on the matter weren't reflecting on her face, which was always a difficult task for her. She wasn't sure why she asked, maybe in hopes discussing it could get at least some weight off her mind. Although, a part of her was curious to gauge his thoughts on the whole situation.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

In that lull of space in which they ate in quiet, J.D. felt most secure. He was eating a rather enjoyable burger with the girl he loved most in her place of comfort after all. Usually he wouldn’t enjoy a quiet where the only noise in earshot was the sound of chewing, normally finding the sound unpleasant to his eardrums. But, in this case it was a much appreciated silence. The lack of conversation provided safety, a safety from having to broach the topic at hand he desperately didn’t want to approach in the first place. Besides, there was a certain peace to that silence that uplifted his soul in time of need. That the buzz of those around them had become blurry in the background and all he could seem to focus on was the beautiful angel in blue enjoying a hardy meal with him out of all the people in the world she could’ve chosen to be with tonight instead. She belonged there with him as he belonged there with her. Nothing else could ever change that.

Ever the observer he was he couldn’t help but notice the extra pickles she had asked for, making a mental note to himself in case he ever got to cook for her. He noticed things about everyone, all the ticks and behaviors they don’t even notice about themselves. When you’re an observer of life such as he was you see the whole picture nobody else sees as well as the gritty complexity beneath the veneer. He knew her to generally not be a picky eater, often pushing him to expand his own cuisine and pallet by eating more food than he would prefer to on his own. Her favorite food was spaghetti with lots of oregano. He imagined her mom made an impeccable spaghetti though the nostalgia of familiarity and what we love often blinds us to its true nature. He can’t know for sure seeing as he’s yet to be invited over, often coming in through her bedroom window or vice versa for his place. All he knew was the pain in his chest he longed to unburden himself from: that feeling his own mom couldn’t cook for him anymore like hers could. If he wanted to try Veronica’s mom’s signature dish he’d have to make it for himself and Sue, then prepare an extra bowl too for the old man who wouldn’t even thank him for making sure he didn’t starve like he secretly wished he would…

If he knew so much about other people he’d like to think he knew most about Veronica. Case in point: she always fidgets with her clothing when she was anxious. He presumed most people didn’t notice, it was such a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but he always did. It was how he knew when she needed him even if she would deny herself his embrace under the guise of being “ok.” He saw the way she loved her family with all she had when he couldn’t stand his own. While he preferred listening to music she had a taste for radio shows. He was well aware she had very little poker face and was never a particularly efficient liar. (It was ok, he’d back her up always.) Unlike him, she already knew what she wanted out of life when he barely knew if he could stand to go on living without her love keeping him here. He saw how she loved all animals as he did; how she was bright where he was dim right down to the colors they both wore most. Her eyes were dark and soulful and full of life where his were light and distinctly lacking.

She was everything he isn’t and he was everything she wasn’t. They complimented each other in more ways than one, right down to the colors they always wore, blue and black-The blue was bright, yet melancholic, and serene while the black was a dark void that swallowed up all it cherished most, now only belonging to accentuate the blue that makes him feel seen. You know, it shouldn’t be this perfect for them; opposites attract merely a delusion to sell more valentines cards to couples doomed from the start of their love. He didn’t believe in fate but he believes he was meant to meet Veronica. That he was meant to love and worship her. That’s who he is, what he was made for. They were always made to be like this. Their souls might as well be one separated across two people so deeply in love with each other…

He had never been in love before Veronica and he can’t see being in love with anyone else now that he is. That he could ever love someone with so much conviction that it consumes all that he is and his very being and not want it any other way. He always was so alone, he thought he’d reject the notion of ever wanting anyone else when all he ever had was himself, but instead? He’s embraced it and all the broken pieces have come together to form a whole, singing her name like it’s the only music he can hear anymore. Not only could he never stand to be without her, he simply doesn’t want to. He only breathes to breathe with her, every moment without her is a second he’s waiting to be reunited and surely she must feel the same too…

As observant as he was being he noticed the tension that came over her at the mere mention of Preston being brought up, he could see why. Likely a bad memory for her no doubt-but that’s all that he is to her now, a memory. He did that for her. Was it the tension of some misplaced sense of guilt? Why she would feel guilt he didn’t know…In his eyes she was perfect and there was nothing to feel guilty about in the matter of Preston Sullivan. He was a dick who tormented her at parties, a shit stain on humanity to be wiped away. Maybe she felt guilty for wanting him dead? There was nothing wrong with wishing ill on those who’ve hurt you, he did it all the time and he’d argue he was still a good person. She didn’t kill him either, he kept her hands and heart clean at the cost of his own. After all angels don’t belong in red, their halos don’t dim-but gods decide what’s needed to keep the universe spinning another day. Gods can make a genocide occur with a snap of their fingers because of the power they possess, the very same power they get easily drunk on. They certainly don’t pity the fallen children either. Though he’d never get drunk on what power staining the walls with Preston’s sins has given him. He was too principled, too aware, too calculated for senseless brutality on a power trip, unlike some of his other classmates he’s been seeing through different eyes lately.

The only thing he thought Veronica had done wrong in this particular instance was not tell him sooner. If he had known sooner this would’ve been over long ago by now. That was the one thing she always did that drove him up the wall if he was being honest, making him wait, play the observer…Always observing, never acting as she put flowery bandaids over holes rupturing blood that stains them both. It made him feel helpless, gross, like she couldn’t see how much she needed him. So many of their problems could’ve been over by now if she’d just let him help but, no she doesn’t listen! She makes him stand outside, goes it alone, makes him feel like he should have to apologize to the beast when he did nothing wrong and they both know it! At least he came closer to getting through to Heather Mac than he ever has with her…One day he’ll make her see how much this pacifisity is killing them both, how the observer has grown sick of always observing and never doing…

When he saw her smile at him he could at least rest easy knowing her mind was more at ease than it was before, or more specifically that the attempt at deflection had worked for now.

“Glad the meal has sufficed, as long as you’re satisfied then call me satisfied too, good burger or not.” He watched as she wiped some of the sauce off her mouth, not only was she not a difficult eater to please it seems but she clearly wasn’t a messy eater either which pleased him. Of course everything she did pleased within reason however.

He grabbed his own napkin and slowly started dabbing the sides of his mouth while making a faux-hoity toity expression as if he was eating at a highly priced fancy establishment as opposed to a somewhat small and no frills diner his girlfriend had recommended to him. Then after slowly putting the napkin down dramatically he licked his lips and stuck his tongue out at her before quickly retracting, a sharp contrast to his teasing facade of fanciness. He was once again trying to ease her tension any way he could in the moment.

And there it was, the question he had been hoping to never have to hear come out of those lips he wished would kiss him. There were many things he knew feasibly he could’ve said to make things easier. He could’ve protected her by claiming deniability and said he knew nothing about Preston, an obvious lie seeing as it seemed to be all anyone in Sherwood was talking about as it was. He could’ve told her the truth and confessed to his crime, but he knew Veronica well enough to know she wouldn’t take to that immediately, even if she was clearly lying to herself to feel guilt about the dead and buried in the pursuit of remaining a “good person”. He could’ve said nothing at all and try to change the topic again, he didn’t think Preston even deserved to be talked about. His name was like acid to his tongue, when spewed it destroys everything it touches after all…It had worked prior though he knew better than that. It would appear too suspicious in this instance. His thoughts of all he should do were suffocating his mind and quickly.

No, he had to say something, anything at all really…Something that would make her feel better than she did and hopefully exonerate him in her eyes. Something that made that look in her eyes he recognized as curiosity go away…

After a pause to consider her question he blinked at her, tilting his head. “Huh? Of course. A tragedy indeed. See, that’s the thing with those parties you go to with Heather. Beers, loud music, dim light, you won’t know what’s happening…It just worries me sometimes, I guess. First Preston, but it could always be you next if you don’t take the right precautions to stay safe. I’m just glad we were both somewhere else that night. Maybe you should consider retiring from the party crowd for a while? Hang with me instead at night-it certainly would be safer for you, I can protect you; be back up. God knows what I would’ve done if you had been there that night…” He fidgets with the button on his coat sleeve. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel about all of this stuff, you know? Regardless of what everyone else says you should feel…Was Preston’s a tragedy for some? Yes, a victory for others? Most likely as well…But, I think we can all agree that his death has had a profound effect on us all and that it was a shortening of a life already so painfully short to begin with…”

He makes a confused expression before smiling at her again.

“Why? Is there something you’re not telling me about the recently departed?”

[explosiveslurpeelover]

How has your opinion of your family changed over the years?

It’s a fact that youth blinds us to the way things are. When you’re young you’re more naive from a lack of experience after all. Kids are fragile and vulnerable; merely small lumps of clay yet to be fully developed and molded by the adults and society around them into whatever they see fit. When we’re kids the sun always feels brighter and we look up to our parents as these untouchable, perfect beings which only sets us up for disappointment later in life when the curtain finally drops and we all see that the Wizard was always nothing more than a broken man under the surface.

When I was seven I thought my mom was the sun. She made the whole world feel brighter to me. It seemed like she was the only one who ever looked my way and understood what I truly was without judgement. You know, she’d let me sit in her lap to read books from the local library she always loved. They were always big books, the kinds of books I read now but was too young at the time to understand half the words she was saying to me. But all bright things begin to dim before ultimately burning out. Our little reading sessions always cut so dreadfully short nowadays. She’d always say “maybe a little later, Jason.” Then later never came. No, she was too lethargic; stuck in bed. It was like she couldn’t see me at all anymore. I could see she was changing, leaving me behind in her head but I was too young to know what to do about it. A helpless child awaiting his mom to come back.

Needless to say there was no comeback, there was no more reading together and now I read alone. Last time I saw my mom alive she was waving out the window of that very same library in Texas. She left me. I suppose that the brightest things are always meant to burn out eventually…

My dad, on the other hand I have very little to say about him growing up. Seemed the old man was always at work and never home. Bet he didn’t like us then, certainly doesn’t like us now. Things were simpler when he was always at work and we had mom around, didn’t have to see the psychotic around so much. Now that I see him every day I think of him with less fond regards than I used to. I’m old enough now to recognize the beers and the insults and the way he looks at me like I’m trash, like I’m damaged, like I’m replaceable and maybe he’s right that I am-the thought still sickens me as I go through the box of IDs. All the people I could’ve been and why not them?

Back in the day I thought of my sister, Sue as a pest. An annoying presence I never knew what to do with. She needed me in ways I didn’t know how to provide and now that I’m older I’ve become the caregiver she always wanted in loco parentis. Trying to look out for her even though she appears to not always want my help with things. That’s the teenage years for you. Always trying to be independent when we both know what she truly needs is protection and insight from me. Surely she’s just not comfortable asking yet but I know she’ll come around to it in due time.

I’d like to think I’ve seen all of what my family had to offer now, their scars and all that I never could quite make out as a small kid. The years no doubt have aged me far more than my peers and the string of pain gives me awareness others my age lack in most…

[explosiveslurpeelover]

How would your 10-year-old self react to what you do now?

I’d like to think that ten year old me would be rather impressed with the person we’ve become in time. It certainly hasn’t been easy for either of us. It’s hard to believe it’s only been seven years now since I was that age. Feels longer than that if I’m being honest. In the time most of my classmates would be navigating middle school I was learning to cook pasta and pay rent among other things. Seems like I’ve been acting in the place of the man of the house without any of the actual benefits of being an adult yet for a while now. (Though my birthday falls in the spring. So, I suppose it’s really not much longer…) At least I’ve learned how to make a rather mean and esquire carbonara.

By the age of ten I had already stopped being a normal kid. Mom had already said her goodbyes to me and I had waved farewell to my friends from 4th grade. (What were their names? They always seem to escape me, as do their faces which had gone blurry a long time ago by now…) While the world around us hasn’t changed a bit we’ve grown far more aware of all life can be. Age brings wisdom, apathy brings awareness, and pain brings limpidity. Learned a lot of things about the world, about mankind at large. That it doesn’t care about you, that it doesn’t owe you a cent, that it’ll chew you up and spit you out til nothing remains of you or your morality as it’s long gone and in the garbage. Society didn’t care about the boy that lost his mom who was made to grow up faster than most. It certainly doesn’t care about him now.

But, I don’t see it all as doom and gloom however. Even in the worst of times there can be a spark of good that sets everything in motion once again. Veronica helped me see that. I bet the innocence of youth would blind a smaller me to how truly lucky and wonderful it is I know her at all and yet I consider it the biggest win of our shared existence. In spite of my circumstances I was granted what I find a lot of my peers to be severely lacking in: experience and clarity. Even then when I was barely in the double digits I had my head on straight more than anyone else I’ll ever know. In seeing what others don’t see so young I have an advantage in survival and navigation. If life’s a game that churns out the worst of individuals you simply oughta not play, something I’ve known a long time that others are just now beginning to learn as well.

You know, I always did see things more clearly and I bet younger me would be inclined to agree with me too…

[explosiveslurpeelover]

So, I see…Peculiar picture of me indeed. It appears to be me sticking my tongue out at the camera in a rather menacing manner? How amusing. That picture was likely taken out of context seeing as I had no reason to be doing such actions in the first place. Especially with the knowledge that Veronica is clearly seen standing beside me as opposed to being the one behind the camera. Not that I would make that kind of face at her anyway however. Unless of course I forgot a person or encounter with someone I took particular offense to who just happened to have had a camera. Can’t say I would know if so…Westerberg is full of so many frustrating and dreadful people I’ve lost count of all of the ways I’ve managed to be annoyed by our classmates. I would say the sooner I don’t have to deal with inane and cruel the better, but that does cost me and it’s a price I’m more than willing to pay in exchange for seeing Veronica every day. Sure does make the school days more bearable at least.

Now, as for the other picture itself I have more to say. It seems you’ve drawn Veronica as a dog. Though certainly no artistry was spared in your attempt I have to wonder what was the purpose of this? I’m aware Veronica finds all dogs to be cute thus would find this depiction equally so and I’m inclined to agree. What can I say? Call me an animal lover. I prefer cats to dogs myself but I’ll never discredit the comfort and fulfillment of petting a soft, cuddly dog on a bad day. If you ask me I do have to wonder about your intentions with the art in question. If I’m being honest my peers aren’t known for their compassion so I can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of backhanded insult. Like calling her a “bitch” if you know what I mean. The dog does look quite frightened…

If you’re calling her a bitch then you’ve yet to look around and see that among the sea of bitches and Heathers Veronica is one of the most compassionate and kind people this broken world has ever known. She just needs to work harder keeping her mind free of guilt and her soul clean from all the scum she surrounds her with.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

“I say we go with big blue.”

[explosiveslurpeelover]

whats your opinion of a girl counterpart of you? a hot . . sexy ass girl version of you ..

Well, the multiverse theory sure does spark something of the imagination, doesn’t it? It’s a rather fascinating concept to consider that there may possibly be thousands upon thousands of us in existence we just don’t know about the others nor are capable of ever existing amongst each other. It’s yet another reminder that our own existences in the multiverse really means nothing at all in the grand scheme of things unless we make it mean something. Most people don’t even seem to realize how small they are in comparison to the possible multiverse especially those who think they’re the center of that very universe. What I would pay to tell Heather that she’s barely significant in our own space much less in the possibility of other spaces. Though the thought of infinite Heather Chandlers fills me with dread. There’s a certain hopeless melancholy in that thought process however. In thinking of how little we actually mean to the world that already doesn’t owe us a cent. It starts to get messy. Personally, I don’t know what I believe but it’s something I ponder often.

If I ever were to know of another me, it is highly likely it would destroy the fabric of our reality. Big boom in the space time continuum if you know what I mean. The thought is rather far fetched in the first place. I don’t have any particular opinion on the thought of a female version of myself existing in some alternative timeline I’ll never know. It’s highly possible that in the multiverse every version of me is ever so slightly different from the me you know. Though I’m more curious about the implications that you find a hypothetical version of me that’s a woman more “sexy” than me as it is. I don’t really see the difference outside of your own personal preference. Unless you’re implying you don’t find me sexy in which case, I can’t say I blame you. How unflattering of me. Not that I would ever encourage flirting with a taken man. We all know I’d rather be with Veronica anyway. But it was the thought that counts isn’t it? Nice to know my dating pool even outside the love of my life is somewhat smaller than anticipated.

[explosiveslurpeelover]

Got 12/16 shots at my shooting assessment and still only got 45/80💔.

Idk why you'd need to know this, but you do. You seem like the type to be interested in guns...

(TW: Discussions of guns, animal cruelty, and death)

You know, the statement does hold true sometimes that there is such thing as too much information. I don’t know you particularly well so it should be obvious I have no investment in your shooting assessment. I suppose how good your score is depends on the comparison of your knowledge of shooting. If you’re more of a beginner there are certainly worse scores to have. Most people aren’t really that proficient in anything they try for the first time. If they were then they wouldn’t be human, they’d be a goddamn mutant. I don’t prescribe to the notion that any one person is more superior to another in theory. I find people who think that they are are those in power who want to keep the people they look down upon complacent by living in fear of the superior. While some may be more naturally gifted with a gun we’re all marked for marksmanship at the end of the day.

Personally I know quite a bit about guns. My dad taught me all kinds of stuff. When I was young he used to take me out hunting. Seems the old man likes shooting down the innocent. You learn a lot about the world when you watch pure animals slaughtered for sport by man who doesn’t care about them at all. I still think about those animals. It wasn’t for food, we weren’t making the world a better place. No, we were killing for the sake of our own “entertainment”. Killing because men like my dad tell you it’s “fun” and validates their fragile sense of masculinity and self. We kill animals and don’t think twice but when we kill humans that’s where there’s supposed to be room for pause. I’ve never quite seen the difference myself. At least a deer doesn’t do as much harm to the planet as its people do. I don’t see why hunting a person is more wrong than hunting an animal. One is very rarely as necessary for the good of the world as the other. Murder is bad because they say it is, hunting is a necessary evil or a fun activity for the whole family. Even bring the kids too!

Clearly they’ve never been an 11 year old boy watching a bleeding rabbit and wondering why humanity or more specifically his father is such a cruel thing. Or even worse, see the exact moment that boy has been made and bred to kill enough animals they stop seeing life and only see death. You get used to it, feeling nothing at all for the dead and damaged. Everyone grows desensitized eventually I suppose. At some point that one bunny becomes so many you can’t keep track of the number anymore from how blurry it’s all become to you. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to cry over something that wasn’t my mom. It’s just the way the world always was. If you have a problem with it, take it up with my dad. He never did see the point in caring about anything that didn’t destroy first and foremost…