So we beat on...

Make A Deal With God || Spencer H. and Grey H.

Grey had lost the feeling in his fingers almost the second that he’d gotten outside of Radley. Part of him wanted to duck back into the building and pray for warmth but he ignored that want and continued on his way across the grounds. Cigarette smoke surrounded him as he walked, a cloud of it around the teenager. He couldn’t quite tell which was his breath on the air and which was the smoke. But it was too cold to really contemplate that as he trudged on to go find Spencer. This was normal enough. He’d done it for Celine in the past and he’d do it now for Spencer. Maybe one day he should say no, say that he is tired and doesn’t want to help anyone at the moment. But that would never be true, Grey thrived on helping others, he as a person just didn’t matter. But, if he could soothe someone else his life would be made more worth while. The fresh cuts into his arms begged to differ. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to be happy, like some freak evolutionary accident. Shrugging those thoughts off as best he could he continued on his journey. At least his side didn’t ache or look mutated anymore, the tattoo was healed, which was one thing to be thankful. Anymore at Windsor he felt like people had to start counting their blessings and start praying that none of them simply popped out of existence. It was beginning to happen more and more, it was unreal and worried him. Was he losing his mind here or…?

No he was probably just imagining things, then again everything always seemed to be in shambles here. Especially for those who didn’t deserve it, no people like Spencer didn’t deserve the plate that had been handed to him. Not with his guileless smile and his odd ability to brighten where ever he went. It just seemed cruel, cruel and unneeded. But Grey knew better then to focus on things that he would never have the power to change, whatever foolish and divine forces were in control of this. Fuck it, he didn’t even believe in God in the first place. The feeling in his body had evaporated into the January air for the most part, the pinprick of orange illuminating each time he took a drag of his cigarette, at least that was keeping his hands warm. They were clean for once, which was odd. Usually he was covered in some form of art supply, but Grey’s memory was failing him so there could be a thousand different reasons as to why his usually stained fingers were clean. Spotting Spencer a few yards away Grey would be lying if he said that he didn’t breathe a sigh of relief as he finally made it into the thickly packed trees, weaving through them until he was close enough to the blonde to know that he’d be heard. “I thought I’d never find you in here,” He admitted, trying to force laughter into his voice the way that he always did, failing miserably as always. Holding the water bottle out as he got closer, offering a vaguely friendly smile, soothing, yeah he could do soothing.

Spencer's mind was on dead things. His blue eyes stared at the brown of bark and the green of pine needles, blending together in the earth around him, blurry with fluid that escaped every minuscule duct. The plants were the life that he saw, but his mind was on the past. It was on the dead things. Every dead relationship, the ending of who he was based on the people around him. He knew who he was, but it's common knowledge that one is defined by those around him. And who did he have now? The one person that had been there constantly from the moment he was made had betrayed him, completely and totally. Add to the betrayals of one of his best friends and of the boy he had been so ready to give everything to, and he was empty-handed. And for what? What had he possibly done to deserve this? Spencer had loved, and he was punished for it.

But he knew it wasn't completely true. He had Grey, for one thing, and the thought of the boy coming, with crinkling blue eyes that scrunched up in laughter--a memory he held clearly from Friday night. While thinking of him, of this, Spencer found the strength to stand and kick dirt over his mess, until it was just a darker spot of unearthed soil. Walking away, a few yards towards the edge, he found another rock and sat again, the little movement he'd made himself do, to cover himself, still exhausting. He focused on breathing, not his thoughts, and waited. He didn't notice the approaching Radley until his voice came to him, and his head snapped in his direction, his lips slightly parted. Spencer's shoulders drooped, nearly overwhelmed by how kind Grey Hartley really was, the forced laughter even adding to that, though Spencer knew it must not be easy for him at all, due to his condition. "Thank you," he murmured, taking the water. "Thank you so much." He stood again and took generous gulps of the liquid, which he swished around and spit out after turning away, washing any taste from his mouth. He slowed down, taking drinks instead and looked up at him. Spencer looked at the planes of Grey's face, probably for a beat too long to be considered socially acceptable. Then he let out a breathy, humorless laugh and shook his head, breaking eye contact. "Everything has gone to shit," he said in disbelief, not caring about the word slipping out that he so rarely used.

#grey #para #p:makeadeal

Home, filthy home,

Oh, Spencer, I’m not making up a fairy tale with a happy ending for us both to believe in and move on. I’m ok, me and Siri… It was nothing. I’m sorry that I said that in front of you that night because I was drunk. Just, yes, talk to her.

Sure. Whatever you say. I will. Are you going to talk to Beckham? You said it yourself, I mean...you know him.

#portia #he's so done i'm sorry

Email @ Spencer

Portia: So, I figured you wouldn't want to see me, so I'll just say it here, but this wont be the only time I say it to you. I am of course ashamed about what I did with Beckham, but I hate what I said to you. Spencer, you were one person I swore never to hurt, and I said something so awful to you and I hate myself for saying it. I'm going to stay away a while, I don't want to. But I know you wont want see because I've hurt you, so I'll stay away because its the best thing to do. But don't think its me giving up, I love you Spencer, you're my best friend, and although I'm not yours right now, I'm not willing to let you go.

Spencer: [attachment]--http://img.gawkerassets.com/img/18782id14w21fjpg/original.jpg

Home, filthy home,

She’s your sister, Spencer. She’s not a friend or a girlfriend, Serena’s family. I know you have your opinion about me and you see how I treat Madison, but I’d never leave her behind or believe she’d be capable of doing something like that. If there’s something I’ve learned is family is sacred, it doesn’t matter how much people in it can hate or despise each other, it’s blood. You can’t fight your own blood, it’s stronger than everything else in this world. Serena loves you. You know that, even I know that. I have no room talking about it, but it’s just not right to see it all happening and someone needs to do something. Talk to her. If you want, talk to Beckham, he’ll never admit he did that because he had to, but I know that’s what happened. I’m not used to be wrong. I barely am. And I know I’m not.

I want to believe you. I want to think that, yeah, this wasn't all a lie I was involved in. And I'm sure you want to believe it, too, so I'll talk to her. But it's the most disgusting thought I've ever been faced with, them together. And to have it realized? Mason, it's the absolute worst. I don't know what they were playing at, and like I said, I will talk to her. But I can't talk to Beckham.

Well…No one has really ever asked me to draw them like one of my Fench girls. Most never do it again after the first time when they realize just how long they need to sit still. I’ve never been in exactly that situation, but I know the feeling of having to handle a fastball like that in life. But, you can make it through, I wouldn’t doubt that for a second.

Oh, yeah, true. It's like a days-long process, right? Thanks, Grey. I feel bad, since you kind of walked into this when I'm in this state. I promise I'm not usually like this.

Home, filthy home,

Have you ever thought everyone else got one too? I got. And I guess Serena got one too, because we’re ok one second and the next she’s got a message on her phone, just like I did, and then she’s gone. It has something to do with something we all don’t want everybody else to know, I know because they’ve been blackmailing me ever since and I know Beckham has a secret he would never allow anyone to know, he’d prefer people think he’s a jerk and an asshole before he told them he had to do the things he did. I know him. I know Beckham Cooke better than anyone here and I know he wouldn’t do that to me. I come to terms that he was forced to, like we all were.

Oh my God, Mase. You saw her get a message? I mean, believe me...I want to just run around and believe you. I really, really do, but it's hard. They've been blackmailing you?

I'm just really confused about Beckham. I know he was hiding other stuff, for sure. And then I find out about whatever happened between her and Beckham and it just goes with it and...I don't know. I know who he was with me, and these past two days, I've separated that from who I know he's been with other people and I'm just so confused. But what you said...that's who I thought he was. Before all of this. I don't know what's gone with him, but...God, I don't know.

Yeah, it’s why I love doing portraits of friends who are willing to sit for me. I can understand the feeling, but at least you’re feeling a bit better. That’s always something…right?

You do? Don't you get tired of people asking you to draw them like your French girls or whatever? Yeah. I mean, it's a bit much learning that everything you knew wasn't what it was. Does that make sense? Every single thing got turned upside down, without any reason, to my eyes. And I don't understand. But I'm a quick learner.

Home, filthy home,

Spence, you’ve got a task, didn’t you? The ball night and in that night when we were trapped because of the snow? You did, right?

Yeah, I guess...I mean, during the ball, they just said to ask Portia about what happened. Beck slept with her, by the way, before he got with me. The whole thing with...her--that was only part of it. But yeah, during the snow in, I got one.

#thoughts

That’d be why faces are my favorite thing to draw, eyes mostly. Speaking of expressions, how are you doing?

That's cool. It's interesting how we can tell so much from little expressions. I'm better than I was, I guess. It's tough...having everything just ripped from under you.

Home, filthy home,

Ok, listen, don’t ever say something like that again, alright? Don’t. Just don’t.

You don’t need to be sorry for me. I thought of some things and even if people don’t deserve this effort, you do. I don’t think Beckham wanted to do that.

I'm sorry. You just know he would say that all the time.

Yeah, well, I am. I don't know, Mase. I just really don't know about him. And Siri just really cared about you. God, she cared about you.

Yeah, I might be asking for another cup of coffee pretty soon if you’re free and this keeps up. They’re fascinating, especially when doing the detail work.

I'll be around. Yeah, I can imagine. They show a lot about a person...they look different when they're relaxed and when they're tense. They're as full of expressions as faces.

Home, filthy home,

Fine. I’m always fine.

You and her, how are you two? I… I’m sorry, Spence.

Don't say that. You sound like him.

I haven't talked to her. I'm sorry for you, too.

Sleep just isn’t my forte, and uh, just playing with detail so hands. That sounds odd.

#grey #okay! i'm pulled in like three directions right now but tm should be better? and i'll be on for a while tonight

Don't I know it...oh, well, you know where coffee is. I don't think it sounds odd. I'm fascinated with hands. That probably sounds odd, too. I don't know. I like hands.

Home, filthy home,

It’s just fabulous, man. Are you ok there?

Nope.

How are you?