jump into the fog.

there's not an ounce of faith in this leap

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snapchat.

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tyguns.

RICH 🔪 🔪: omg  RICH 🔪 🔪: bro wtf RICH 🔪 🔪: R U HIGH RN? RICH 🔪 🔪: im so proud  RICH 🔪 🔪: waz wundering wr u were RICH 🔪 🔪: ):

AJ  🐦: i am SO HIGH  AJ  🐦: i don’t kno who i am anymor AJ  🐦: its dark. strobe lights AJ  🐦: im in a bed i think AJ  🐦: oh god dam i got crumbs everywhere AJ  🐦: whos house is this  AJ  🐦: help

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tyguns.

Dozens push pass, and he takes a deep breath. Taking advantage of the interruption. The longer he was there, listening and god he wish he could just turn off the smelling. Through dense scent of food, the smell radiating off him overpowered all else. It wasn’t rancid or anything that sort, it was just. So Much. In your face. Through the layers of people between them, it hadn’t dimmed in the slightest. 

The cafe empties, leaving only the two, and the scarce few janitors and lunch workers. He shifted oddly as Russ continued. He froze at the proposition, it seemed so out of place. Everything about this guy just continued to confuse the right fuck out of him. At the same time, it kept him reeled in. His interest was surprisingly peaked. 

“ I do. “ He replies, awkwardly delayed. “ Extravagant, huh? “ He stalls, not knowing what the hell he was going to say. “ I, “ He looks behind him, and a quick glance at the door, his group long gone. “ I mean. Whatever. “ He eyes his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. This was uncomfortable. 

what a turn for the weird, russ thinks -- the guy he thought was going to pummel him into dust was now going to accompany him to mickey d’s. there’s a beat of silence between them after the larger of the two reluctantly agrees and russ nods his head, thinking. he finds himself absently wondering if he’s a chicken nuggets kinda guy or double cheeseburger kinda guy. probably chicken nuggets. 

oh, shit. the realization dawns on him all at once that he has no way of getting them there ; see, russ doesn’t have a car. russ doesn’t know how to drive, actually, like, at all --- and drivers everywhere are thankful for that. “ cool. one thing, though... do you drive? because i don’t really see you riding my handlebars for two miles going well. ”

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snapchat.

AJ 🐦: this tastes like heaven AJ 🐦: i’m high as a fucking kite AJ 🐦: why didn’t anyone tell me how awesome marijuana is  AJ 🐦: everything is just better AJ 🐦: also idk who gave me this AJ 🐦: or where i am AJ 🐦: this bong is my mother now AJ 🐦: i tried to run but mother bird got me

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tyguns.

That was fast. He was half expecting another few minutes of jabbering, excuses and please. He’s gotten used to this sort of thing. 

He’s had a chance to really catch a look of the other, he had jack shit clue who he was, but something about him was. Different. Eased him in someway.  Maybe it was the pleading for my life expression. It was something new, but easily brushed to the back of his mind. 

The more he thought about it, the look of fear made his stomach turn, heavy in a knot. Not to mention the guy was prepping for a wailing. His stance softens. —-Somewhat. 

“ Hit you? “ Less monotone, but still. Monotone. “ You’re the one without lunch. “ Trying a ‘ don’t worry about it ‘ out as best he could. 

“ Sorry. “ He mumbles, after a little too drawn out moment of silence. His glace unable to meet Russ’ as he apologizes. 

hesitantly, russ lets his gaze drift from in the void to focus on his classmate before him and it’s clear that he doesn’t expect that reaction at all --- then again, his own previous actions could spell out that much all on their own. the fear steadily slides from the knot in his throat back down to the pit of his belly and he feels it seep, seep away, left only by the lingering anxiety of not knowing what was going to happen next. for once in his life, he’s left speechless and remains that way until josh thornberg apologizes. after a beat of silence, he laughs. it’s a singular heh, nervous kind of chuckle. “ uh... what for? i’m the one who --” as people rush by, the noise of cafeteria becomes difficult to speak over and he holds his tongue until the masses are half way out and they’re left alone, in the spaces between tables. “ doesn’t really look like i would have had time to eat it, anyways. and... ” eyes scattering down to his own, previously white, shirt, he grimaces. “ i’m thinking a higher power was looking out for me on this one. eating this stuff is just like, begging for a night on the toilet. i’ll probably get something to eat next block, anyways. i have it free. do you? i could treat you to the extravagance of the dollar menu at mcdonalds. make up for the whole spaghetti jacket thing. ”

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tyguns.

     Warmth drips from torso to abdomen, red muck ( the school likes to think passes as pasta sauce ) staining in it’s path. Rage cluttered his train of thought, adrenaline flooding. Blabber muffles as force of habit kicks in, eyes burn far from the trigger, allowing a moment of sanity. —Deep breathes, incredible hulk. 

    He manages to catch something about milk drinking, and bird girlfriends. OK . Nerves are being tested. He lets the 5 feet of hyper activity incarnate finish,—whatever the HELL he was going on about, and brushes cat food tier meat from his hoodie. The ever so charming  ‘you are but a few twigs glued together to me’ glare shot at Russ unmoving. 

    “ You stained my jacket.” In that lifeless tone you know is just bad news. Death glare motioning to the smear down his chest, as he shakes off the hand now covered in sauce, sending it flying towards Russ. 

ever seen your life flash right before your eyes? until josh ( finally ) speaks, russ would have been able to answer a humble no to that question. spaghetti sauce, if you can call it that, flicks across his features and he blinks several times, jutting his lip out only for teeth to pull it back. that’s fair, he thinks, nodding his head and staring ahead into the great void --- now that the ramble part of his panic is over, he’s gone into acceptance. “ i know, i’m sorry, really. look, though, between the anticipation and your death defying gaze -- kudos on that by the way, super effective -- i’m like, about to go into cardiac arrest right here right now, so if you’re gonna hit me, please, for the love of god, just do it already. ”

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@tyguns

“ oh -- oh, god, sorry, bro -- ” damn his inattention to hell, and damn it ESPECIALLY when russ lays eyes on just who it was that he splattered cafeteria-grade ( read: bad ) spaghetti all over. josh thornberg. the josh thornberg. oh my holy damn. the companion he was talking to? long gone. fucking aj. he’s on his own here. russell’s mind goes into an absolute panic and he puts a hand out, mouth moving to rationalize before he can mentally. “ you’re real mad, aren’t ya? big, big, mad guy. definitely drank your milk growing up, am i right? well, am i? you’re going to kill me. the look you have right now -- it’s a murder face, isn’t it? i’ve seen enough horror shows that i know, i can just tell, this is where i die. i didn’t drink milk, dude. i never did, hated it, and now i’m going to die. i have a request, okay? when you kill me, go over there to the table with the scrawny kid who ran off, and you kill him too. he was asking me about pigeons and i was too busy telling him to go kiss his fifty bird girlfriends to pay attention and that’s why you have spaghetti all over you. ”

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aseaofquotes.

Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro