BLUE SKY

ok so like. rue has this theory. in which you can sort of figure out a lot about a person in a moment like this, in how they respond to random questions, and if they're like. actually someone worth being friends with. that was the sort of shit she really missed with fez... how things had been like, pretty fucking cool before rue went and got like. way in over her head. until she brings in the like, WRONG KIND OF ATTENTION to his spot, because she just... couldn't keep her shit together. because she fucking hated everything about nate jacobs, until it just wore out on her in the worst kind of ways...

she doesn't really know jesse's story like that. maybe time makes her cautious, paints warning signs into her bones. she's seen what this can do.... she's felt like, maybe that shit with fezco and laurie made her want to not really talk to dealers like that anymore. but. she's not really good at keeping to her own commitments, which is why she's here in the first place. hers is supposed to be made for SOBRIETY, but like. yeah right. shit doesn't work out that way despite all the things she's tried, or hasn't. maybe what's lacking is that strength of will. maybe she wants to blame him, too, for that shit she just can't seem to stop.

yeah, yeah, yeah. EVERYBODY but her.

"i mean yeah. but. i think that's the thing about FEAR, you know, it's not really all that rational. your mind and your body are just screaming and freaking out and like. i don't know. people are just... really sad when they're scared." maybe that's what she was, he was. what humanity was at the end of the day, and it kind of leaves this like, unsettled feeling at the tip of her tongue. something like. that reminds her of her talks with her old sobriety coach and how she'd turned the worst things he'd ever told her against him, in that fearful moment that he'd expose her then latest bout of drug use. ah.

well. FUCK. she still thought about him.

he wouldn't do that. jesse that was. he was more like, someone like fez. like a brother, like safety. who knew if that was real, and it was sad that she was the nostalgic type, which was why maybe she was so happy to talk through her nonsense with him, like it was nothing. like it's sunday afternoons on sunny days with juice packs and poorly rolled blunts. she misses her childhood. it'd DIED far too early. "okay but like, if it's aliens, then like, maybe it's a good thing at the end of the day? they might have whole new info and shit to save us from like... ourselves? ever think about that?"

- @jcssepinkman

He was still aware of the cops currently sitting a few tables away and Jesse knew he should be shit scared of that. Why wasn't he wrapping this up and slinking out that door and back to the safety of his house, away from the possibility of arrest. But was his house really a safe haven? He still had nightmares about the cartel knocking down his door and dragging him out to the desert to put a bullet in his head. How he'd managed to escape that becoming a possibility was anyone's guess. Was it luck? If it was, why didn't it feel like it? Why did it feel like he'd been dealt this terrible hand and that he was now stuck in the drug business that was steadily becoming more serious as the name Heisenberg got out there on the streets, their product becoming more popular...

Maybe sitting here with Rue was his sad attempt at trying to cling on to some sense of normalcy. Of having a conversation that wasn't centered around the drug trade or money or any of that other bullshit that came with it all. Sure, the cash was good and he'd even splurged out on some cool shit with it. But it was amazing how quickly that high could fade. Then the paranoia set in and the brain began to wonder when all of this would be snatched from him; would this end with him permanently in a cell or in the ground? Which would be the more merciful option once it was all said and done? Jesse didn't know and wasn't even ready to think about it properly.

"You think they might come and save us? I dunno. Are we worth saving?" And wasn't that the true question? After all the things humans had done as a whole, why would aliens even want to fuck with them? "They'd think us stupid for all the shit we've pulled since, like, the beginning of time or whatever. You hear about global warming, right? And how the planet is being destroyed and it won't be here in, like, hundreds of years. But it was humans that did that. To their own planet. Honestly, I think aliens would be embarrassed to be associated with us. In the universe, Earth is probably seen as the boonies compared to the other planets."

sometimes, rue didn't really get the whole performative bullshit of so much of the work the shit that she came across in her day to day. most people who like, knew the ins and outs of buying their drugs, wouldn't they know how to KEEP IT COOL when under pressure? even when she'd been stuck in that living room with mouse and fez and everyone just crowding in on a moment that felt suffocating.... she'd like... been fucked up, sure, but she'd been able to also, yanno, not give away just how fucked up the situation had her, right?

and that's... strength, or something like it. or maybe that's GIRLHOOD, or maybe that's america, baby, no matter how you spun it, it was just... kind of what you had to put up with when you were looking for and dealing in illicit substances. like, fuck, what did you expect when you're hanging out with people who did illegal shit for a living? even with jesse... gaze flickering upwards to watch the other guy just like, eating his food and shit, looking... well. normal.

rue doesn't think that she has a lot of close friends anymore. or normal friends... "porridge? like. oatmeal?" rue's face crinkles, her nose all scrunched up in temporary judgment. "i mean nah. i'm voting no on the whole oatmeal as cereal thing, i don't care if that shit is a cereal, like, it's totally in denial of the SPIRIT of what a cereal is, you know? sugary trash for childhood. everything else is bleh-" a thumbs down from rue. "a total no go from me. anyways. star wars is pretty good i guess, but i kinda wish it didn't get? i dunno. weird? people got weird about it. like, the tall guy, you know what i mean, right? i'm kind of like, a horror film fan. i really like love slashers and stuff. like. i guess i love the sort of ways you can turn how someone thinks? or what motivates a person... i don't know. survival shit, i love it." there's a casual shrug, her body all loose...

the food, picked upon and over, SCRAPING her cutlery in unbothered motions along the plate. "do you ever think about what you'd do to like... the world was overrun by zombies? would you escape? or like... yeah... i guess get... eaten up and alive or whatever."

- @jcssepinkman

"I'd like to think I'd survive in a zombie apocalypse but doesn't everyone tell themselves that? I can hardly survive the world as it is right now." But he'd survived a lot of bad shit in his life, including having a gun held to his head by crazy cartel members, so he must be doing something right. Or maybe it was some higher deity or some guardian angel trying their best to watch over him. Jesse didn't really know if he believed in all that stuff. His aunt Ginny found comfort in that side of things, especially after she'd been diagnosed with cancer.

"I think everyone has the wrong idea when they say they'd, like, hide out in Costco or something. I get that they have literally everything there but it's too good to be true, you know? If everyone says that's their go-to place, then doesn't that cut survival chances in half. Most of the problems that come up in zombie movies is the fault of other humans. Always fighting each other and shit." It was fucked up to think about humans still being unable to look out for each other even in a global catastrophe.

"I guess the real question is would you even want to survive? If you saw people getting ripped apart all around you. The constant fear. I think it would drive me insane within the first week."

Honestly, he was just glad that they were able to sit here and enjoy their food instead of being the food for any undead beings. Still, he wouldn't be shocked if something like that somewhere down the line. Nothing about the world surprised him any more.

"Didn't the government admit that aliens really came to visit us but nobody gave a fuck because we were too wrapped up in other bullshit life was throwing at us? We might have to worry about an alien invasion before a zombie apocalypse."

lydia would've worried about repaying jesse's favor—sparing her life, that is—with something much more harrowing or illegal. & yet, he simply brought up... go-karting? how unexpected. she isn't ungrateful by any stretch of the word, even though that certainly isn't her usual scene. even so...

"i don't see why i couldn't. i'm sure my daughter would actually like go-karting, given that she's a high-energy kid." kiira always tried to keep herself busy with toys or running around the house, working on various little projects and the likes. she can't see why go-kart wouldn't be an option for her child, though the safety of it was something lydia would have to be vigilant about. after a pause, she nodded.

"you know what? sure. i'm open to doing so sometime. though, i can't say i've ever go-karted before. i'd have to watch from the sidelines... or embarrass myself on the track." a little laugh, awkward and stiff as her personality, escaped the businesswoman-turned-distributor. considering jesse's words, she tilted her head ever so slightly, letting out a deep breath.

"with all due respect you seem like too good of a person for this line of work. too good to be taken advantage of, as it seems to be the case with others." her words were soft, a bit calculating but not necessarily cold. "do you enjoy other... recreational activities? not drugs, i mean, but things like go-karting. i like to take kiira to the zoo or museums on my off days, also."

#steavia #&; ( in character )#&; verse ( season five )#//:')

Wait, she really said yes? She didn't laugh at him and say it was too dumb and childish? Jesse tried to fight the big stupid grin that appeared but, honestly, he wasn't trying that hard.

"Yeah? Right on! Yeah, we can totally hit up the track sometime. Get some food too, yeah." He was quite touched that she felt like it was okay to bring her daughter. It meant that she saw him as being trustworthy to some extent.

Jesse fell quiet at her words, mulling them over. Too good to be taken advantage of. He didn't agree that he was a good person at all. Not when he'd killed someone and hurt others. But the taken advantage of part? It was something he didn't want to admit out loud but wasn't that exactly what Mr. White had been doing all this time? And now Gus. And, to a lesser extent, Mike.

"I like to do a lot of things. Zoos are cool but I'm not all that, uh, well-versed in museums." He wasn't the type who could look at an art piece and describe the emotions he felt. That sort of thing was Jane's area.

...But he didn't like to think about Jane much. She resided in the section of his brain that he hoped to lock Gale up in. The part that caused him too much pain to think about and was too cowardly to face head-on.

"I feel bad for these two polar bears at the zoo. They're brothers, right? And they are treated nicely but I have this dream of saving up and buying them off the zoo. Not to have as my own or anything but, like, to take them back to the... North Pole? Antarctica? Wherever they're from." He paused for a second. "Then again, they might be too used to humans to go back into the wild. I saw this documentary by that British dude with the cool voice and he said that some animals can't go back to where they're from if they've been in captivity for ages."

Maybe if he stopped spending the money on stupid shit, he'd be able to go through with a plan like that. Or any plan. Just being able to commit to something would be baller.

"I used to be in a band but that was ages ago. Like, legit years ago. And it wasn't a real band. It was just one of those things you do with your friends for fun."

even so much as hearing that mike had wanted to kill her more than once instilled a sense of horror within lydia; to think that someone she'd worked with, more or less, for years would want to kill her... she really, really didn't like that thought. she visibly cringed at it, even, as she heard jesse speak.

"jesus," was all she could say at first, shaking her head slowly and avoiding eye contact. "you know... this isn't the first time he's wanted me dead. not long ago, he broke into my house and held me at gunpoint. while my daughter was home. the only reason he let me live was because of those barrels of methylamine."

lydia sighed, looking back at jesse and attempting to stable her shaking hands. "i appreciate that you defended me, jesse. i won't forget that. i'm sure it's obvious that i'm not a 'hardened criminal' type... navigating this world directly as opposed to behind a computer screen is frightening to me."

managing a slight smile, if not a nervous one, she added, "if there's anything i can do to repay the favor, or help you out in return, please don't be afraid to let me know. you seem like a reliable person, and friends are very few and far between in this line of work."

#steavia #&; ( in character )#&; verse ( season five )

"I ain't much of a hardened criminal myself. I tried to convince myself I was back when I first started all this, but it was all forced." Because he really didn't like that side of it all. The side where he had to hurt people. Even if people deserved it, there was still that internal struggle. It was even worse when people didn't deserve it and Jesse had to act in a way that would help his own self-perseveration.

Gale's fearful face staring at him from the other side of the gun barrel flashed through his mind...

Damn it.

"I... yeah, that... I'll keep that in mind. I don't ever have people wanting to repay me for things. Usually they just take stuff for granted." He paused and then shook his head, still trying to rid his brain of Gale's pleading eyes. "Not that me convincing them to spare you is something you need to repay me for. I just did it because it's the good thing to do."

The good thing to do. How could he even speak those words out loud when he didn't do the "good thing" for Gale. He was a hypocrite, right? A total goddamn loser. Rubbing a hand over his eyes as if it could somehow cleanse what was going on behind them, Jesse guided the subject into a lighter area.

"I mean, if you ever feel like going go karting, hit me up. You could bring your daughter, too." But he would understand if Lydia wanted to keep her separate from everyone involved in this side of her life. Jesse would probably want to do the same if he was a parent.

"oh yeah? i guess you're all right." there's a quiet kind of smile from rue, who's rocking the cup of coffee she got, in that bone white coffee mug, the epitome of shitty little diners everywhere, back and forth between her palms. it's in that moment that she decides that jesse's not so bad, and it's like, KINDA NICE to have a friend who's a dealer again. ever since fez, which... well. ever since fez... things change. she was wearier then, feeling that hurt somewhere deep, knowing it's stupid to be mad when like, that's just how that shit goes in the game sometimes.

she bites her thumb, gaze flickering back upwards. REALLY CONCENTRATING on asking her next question, as if it held all the gravity of the world within it. "but then what's your take on breakfast cereal because like... i love cereal. it's like, the meal i could have any day of the week, any time of the day. it's just one of those things i never get tired of, you know?" in the background... she's slipped the baggie into a pocket, one of the many in her cargo pants, a variable treasure trove for an addict. the money's in her palm, but she doesn't hand it over just yet, arms framing her face as she put her head on the table, the cash just peaking out - for him to take. the exchange for her is a natural one. after all. she's been doing this forever, hasn't she?

rue listens... it's nice to kind of drift like this. she'll perk up as the plates are placed down, and she's so hungry and ready to dive in when it's time to eat. it's a clattering of fork and knife and her spoon in the coffee, swirling new cream and sugar with the fresh cup that's poured out for her. "honestly? i was never much of a donut kinda girl, yanno, i felt it was like. half a dessert, but not really, so it's just overall a DISAPPOINTMENT. if i'm gonna have something that could like, give me fucking diabetes, i want it to feel, like, worth it, you know?"

the bell above the door rings, and rue glances in it's direction in her momentary distraction. and INSIDE OF HER, something feels ill. mostly because she loathed their presence, her back straightening so that she could begin eating from her plate, her gaze flickering upwards as she launched into another absurdist question, letting it roll from her tongue. "ok maybe scratch that. what about what's like. your favourite movie. i think it says a lot about a person, yanno? for better or for worse..."

- @jcssepinkman

It was like they were both used to how all this went. The casual exchange of drugs for cash, a pattern they could slip into. Jesse didn't really want to think about how easy it was to play this game because it was hardly a regular way of life. Then again, when was the last time he lived in a way that could be considered normal? Nah, normality had left him the minute he decided to connect with his high school chemistry teacher and do... this.

The cash lay in his baggy sleeve, resting there until he could transfer it to a secure pocket. As they continued to talk about nothing special, Jesse felt a comfort in it all. Even as the cops made their way past to the counter, he felt like they might just be fine if he acted like any old diner patron, eager to eat after a night of partying.

"You can't ever go wrong with cereal unless it's, like, porridge, but does anyone consider that cereal? I know it's in the same aisle and everything but it's not cereal. It's what you'd eat as war rations or some shit. Or the food you'd turn to in a zombie apocalypse." Who would ever eat it willingly unless it was all that was left in the cupboard and there was no way to get anything else?

"Aw man, I'm all about Star Wars but only the ones that were made before Disney got hold of 'em. I like the prequels too — the boomers don't know what they're talking about. Really, who let them have opinions on movies? What about you? What sort of movies are you into?" He began to eat, but was still interested in her answer.

grcywiind

White, the former Albuquerque school teacher who was the subject of a six month international manhunt, was found dead late Tuesday at the scene of a gang massacre, which took the lives of nine people.

#&; ( jesse )

there's an undeniable disturbed look in lydia's eyes when she hears jesse mention that walter was his chemistry teacher... in highschool, of all things. she's certain it isn't her place to make judgments (after all, she's in the same illicit business as the rest of them) but she can't help but wince slightly... she holds back on commenting, however, especially when jesse reveals something lydia wasn't expecting to hear: that he stood up for her.

"really?" she asks, eyes widened and hands ceasing fidgeting. she's still, head tilting slightly as if to properly take in all of the information. "that's a... surprise. i mean, not that i'm not grateful. thank you, for... for doing that."

oh, and the anxious mind does wander and wonder; what exactly did jesse need to defend her from? what kind of threats were mike and walter trying to make. lydia had suspected since she met walter that he was the type to do away with those he no longer found useful. is that truly the case?

"sorry," she starts again, unable to shake the thought, "i can't help but wonder about what you said there, about defending me. what, exactly, did the two of them plan on doing to me before you... stepped in?" she really, really hopes it isn't killing her.

#steavia #&; ( in character )#&; verse ( season five )#//you're okay!!

For a second, Jesse wondered if he'd been right to reveal that fact. Well, whatever, right? It wasn't like the other two were here to stop him and he was tired of all the goddamn secrets. Wasn't communication one of the most important parts to maintaining good working relationships? If all of them just talked to each other about their problems, then maybe there wouldn't be so much animosity.

"Uh, so, remember when you found the tracker when we were at that other warehouse? Mike thought you might have planted it there yourself because you wanted a way out. And he wanted to take you out over it." He paused, then corrected his choice of words just to make sure it really got through to her. "Like, a killing you sort of thing."

"I got him and Mr. White to calm down and actually think about how messed up that would be. It just didn't make sense for you to plant it there and then point it out to me. I dunno — even though I didn't know you that long, you just didn't seem the type to do that. I just think that if we're all going to work together, we can't have all this backstabbing going on. Or actual stabbing. Isn't this how big empires fall? Wasn't Caesar betrayed by a bunch of assholes who didn't know how to sit down and talk?" Jesse had no idea if that was at all how it happened; he flunked history class but he knew the point he was trying to get across.

rue's not exactly academically gifted - failed by the school system. nothing ever really sticks with her, and the whole experience feels so different based on if she was or wasn't medicated. if she was sober, or relapsing, an endless cycle. it's not exactly, like, the kind of shit that she TALKS ABOUT with her drug dealers. not since - well. no. rue doesn't really get into all that anymore, her mouth sewn shut for a moment, her gaze a little weary when peeling from the table's surface to observe jessie from where he sat.

for all intents and purposes? jessie's like, a PRETTY GOOD dealer in her books. he isn't, like, a creep or anything, and sometimes that can be a tall order. he isn't... preachy. or trying to fix her life or make her better, he doesn't judge her when she finds him all, sketched out tired and trying not to fall apart after she'd been ghosted by her last dealer and she'd been caught out. it's a weird exchange. it's better now... rue doesn't really like to think too much about that time. "you're big on family style, huh?"

instead of like, asking her to show up at some house, he calls her to a diner. it feels like familiar ground, in a way, and she wonders what ALI is up to. a distant thought to a time where she'd been both sober, and not, and how he'd put all that work into helping her dry out. would he be disappointed in her now? debating the existence of god, and purpose? and would she be taking more of his damage and storing it up like shrapnel, emotional wreckage to sharpen and wield against him when she was feeling angry and destructive.

she kind of hopes that she's a little bit better now than she used to be. the food's settled down, and truthfully, her expression lights up. when's the last time that she even ate out? things change when you're out in the world on your own, her gaze fluttering to him in an unspoken thanks for his offer to pay, her head ducking, almost shyly, because it's like HE KNEW, she supposed. how could he not? and like him, she's natural enough about sweeping the package towards her with her bag, and up and into the lip, as if nothing were remiss. "so like. eternal question. are you a pancakes or french toast kinda guy?"

- @jcssepinkman

"I'm all about pancakes, but I like French toast, too. Pretty much all breakfast food is the bomb." Who didn't like breakfast food? It was way better than lunch — there was just something about sitting down to a big meal after waking up from a night of hard partying. Breakfast food helped with his hangovers and really brought him back to reality.

Rue had received her Blue Sky baggie without anything looking out of place. See? This was exactly why he carried out deals like this — it was natural and there were plenty of ways to hide shit. He turned his attention back to his food, knowing that Rue would do the same. She was someone who knew what to do and didn't immediately rush out after receiving what she was here for. Anyway, as weird as it probably was for other dealers, Jesse liked hanging out with clients. Well, the ones that he could hang out with; some of them were complete nutcases that he preferred to keep at a fair distance.

"My buddy is into these Froot Loop donuts. He gets them in bulk from some bakery near his place. He says he's staying ahead of the game by combining breakfast with dessert." Jesse shook his head, an amused smirk working its way into his expression. Badger was a total idiot and had many questionable ideas, but he couldn't really see fault with his logic. "I think I'd get sick of those after, like, two days."

Behind Rue, the bell above the door signalled an arrival of a new customer. Jesse raised his eyes, noticing the cop car out front first before his gaze even landed on the two cops that had entered. Ah, hell. It was fine, he told himself. Just because there were cops here didn't mean they were here for them. They had to eat just like everyone else and these small food places were their kind of hangouts. His eyes flashed back to Rue, a silent agreement passing between them: It's all cool... just act normal. We're doing nothing wrong. When enough time had passed without it seeming like they were leaving because of the cops, they could bounce.

#//JESSE DESERVED HIS FREEDOM #//we all cheered #&; ( jesse )

hilariesjeffrey

Where would you go? If you were me. Doesn’t matter. I’m not you. Seriously, come on. Like, if you were my age. Just play along. Make some conversation. Alaska. Yeah? Yeah, if I were your age, starting fresh, alaska. It’s the last frontier. Up there, you could be anything you want. Alaska. Start over. Start fresh. One could. Put things right. No. Sorry, kid, that’s the one thing you can never do.

darlingshane

What kind of pizza do you like, Jesse? Jesse, what kind of pizza? - Pepperoni.

#//this scene fucked me up #&; ( jesse )

lalosalamcnca

"From here on, it’s up to us to say where he’s headed. I like to call it 'something better,' and leave it at that."

— Breaking Bad 5x16 “Felina” script

#&; ( jesse )#//this scene changed my life

emotionalwhump

- “Good job.”

Jesse Pinkman → El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie (2019)

(4 / ?)

#//i want hellfire to rain down on todd #&; ( jesse )#&; ( todd )

lydia couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle under her breath at jesse's choice of words. "oh, i most certainly don't fit in. i feel as though i really stick out like a sore thumb, working among people in-person... i was a lot more comfortable with doing things in the shadows." she tries not to think about gus, about how his loss had shaken her to her very core and essentially ruined her life's course. she tries not to think about the very real possibility that walter white was the one who killed him.

at least jesse's nice. lydia shakes her head, looking down at her hands as small but busy fingers fidget. "i did, admittedly, get into this line of for the money. i wanted to ensure safety for myself, and for my daughter as well... ironically, she became a part of my life after the fact." it'd been a choice she'd made with her whole heart, a willing decision to carry on the rodarte-quayle family line by adopting kiira.

"it started as a legitimate source of income, actually. i'm simply a very logistic-oriented person, which lead to promotions at madrigal, which lead to meeting gustavo— um, gus fring, eventually. he saw value in my work, and that eventually lead to business proposals of... less legal activities." lydia sounded almost proud of herself as she spoke, but still ironically on-edge. she missed the old days, when things weren't so overcomplicated by death and imminent danger.

she crosses her legs, focused green eyes looking to jesse. "i never had this much direct involvement before. it frightens me a lot, at times, but... well, at this point, i'm too far in to pull away." she had sunken her boots into the proverbial quicksand that was the methamphetamine trade. sounded as if jesse knew a thing or two about that. lydia fell silent for a moment before she continued.

"it's... surprising to hear that you started in elementary school. or, well, that you started from someone you'd known from back then." & not only that, but the way jesse talked about walter, mr. white, certainly caught lydia's attention. she couldn't help but ask. "so, you knew walter before the two of you started cooking together?"

#steavia #&; ( in character )#&; verse ( season five )#//me too!#//they always needed some good convos between them

Lydia saying that she was too far in to pull away struck a chord within Jesse. It was the same for him. How many times had he told himself that he would get out before it got too much? Before he ended up six feet under, the victim of one of his or Mr. White's many mistakes. That was the crazy part of it all — even though they'd been in this business for a fair while now, Jesse wasn't a hardened criminal. He didn't want to be. That meant that mistakes were still so easy to make; his brain wasn't hardwired to think in the same way that criminals did. He knew that made him more of a liability than anyone wanted to deal with, but he was stuck with the hand he was dealt for the time being.

"Yeah, he was my high school chemistry teacher. Not a good one, either." Mr. White could say whatever he wanted about their experience together as student and teacher, but wasn't it a teacher's job or even duty to take time to understand why a student was struggling with a subject and offer additional help? Jesse knew he wasn't the best student, especially with the way his mind would wander back then, but Mr. White hardly fought to make him feel valued. It was always his fault that he wasn't "applying himself" and never Mr. White's for not adapting his lessons for those students who couldn't keep up.

"If you ask me, the guy's never been fit to be a teacher. He sucks, actually. Got an ego the size of 5000ml boiling flask... Bigger, even." He shifted on his seat, tilting his head to get rid of the crick in his neck. He had to stop hunching so much.

"I get why you're scared of stuff that goes on. I think anyone who says they aren't are liars. But you're cool with me and if they try anything — Mr. White and Mike — I'll stand up for you." There was a pause, wondering if he should reveal this next part. "I already had to before."

vanveronicango

aaron paul as jesse pinkman in el camino: a breaking bad movie (2019)

#&; ( jesse )#//hurts my heart so much #//all his scars

hanging out with a drug dealer meant that there WERE MOMENTS when things could get... out of hand. did that change the way that she looked at jessie? not really. heart in her throat, she feels every pulse as it radiates on outwards. that she’s got a drumkit going off in her head, she wants, she needs, and he's got that cure, that fix, that new drug high. how america’s fucking drowning in sadness, and maybe wanting to blast off, cloudside, might be preferable to what’s evolving around them on the day to day, trying to wear a placated smile, like, she’s just here for fun, right? all this shit’s just for fun.

breakfast, he says. let's get breakfast. really he wants money and she wants whatever he's got, and like. she wonders if it's because she tells him once that breakfast is her favourite meal. pancakes, please, no syrup. a little bit of BUTTER, and damn, she's fucking set. and unlike what one might expected, rue's all hunched shoulders, peering at the menu and listening straight up to his suggestions, that nodding, careful, teeth chewing all delicate along her bottom lip.

"you think i can like. eat that and pancakes and bacon?" that laugh because her eyes are so much bigger than her stomach. that they can talk about like, everything and nothing, for not reason needed to play it up. "mmm... i'm kinda failing at my courses right now." that side of her a blurring mess. rue, the lost cause, trying to be an actress or something, trying to be FAMOUS. what a mess that made out of her. head back, glancing at the waitress with a trailing smile. "ok but for real. OJ or coffee?"

- @jcssepinkman