closed starter for @unfortunatescn
Oliver looks to his best friend, and sees something foreign. It’s as if someone has rested a gentle hand over his eyes and only allowed him to see through the cracks of their fingers. Andy becomes blurry, distant, and distorted. Which was strange, maybe inevitable, but still fucking strange. Oliver has spent so long avoiding this grand inevitable, the concept of fate grabbing a hold on the person he’s known and cared for the longest. But after Desmond, after Ryder, after Andy skipping on going to his group therapy, and after finding Andy piss drunk and vomiting on more than one occasion, this couldn’t be avoided anymore.
The day of the wonderful and kinda fucked up 40th anniversary for Primordial MC comes sooner than expected, and leaves a sort of sour taste in Oliver’s mouth. Sure, joining the club was a fun and bold move in his life, one he’ll never regret. He did belong here, with all the chaos, and with all the people he’s come to call his friends. But nowadays he’s starting to wonder the cost. Losing people he cared about? Losing himself? His sanity? He doesn’t know anymore. Regardless, with an unsettled expression, he walks over to Andy. For a moment, words escape him and nothing comes out once he’s before him. It relatively reminds him of the feeling he had when he was asking his crush to senior prom, but this time he’s confronting his best friend about how he thinks he’s lost his fucking marbles.
“I need to fuckin’ talk to you. Now.” Oliver finally spews, deciding to clutch onto the anger that settles in his stomach, as his love and nervousness for Andy might be the one thing to jeopardize what he came here to do originally. With that, he walks into an empty room nearby, nodding as a signal for Andy to follow.