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Sep 25, 2017

SUCCESS IN A SMALL INSTANCE || SELF-PARA

WHO: Silas Smythe with mentions of Christian Reed ( NPC ), @jimmyclip, Olly, Dalton, and Anna Smythe ( NPC ), Damian Westbrooke ( NPC ), @ceceharps

WHEN: Fall 1999, Winter 2005, Winter 2007, Summer 2012, and 9/17/17 ( Fall 2017 )

WHERE: Smythe’s backyard, Cotton Plant Schools, Silas’ Harvard Dorm, Theatre in NYC, Christian Reed’s office, Little Rock

SUMMARY: The four times things have gone hopelessly wrong in Silas’ life, and the one time they go surprisingly well.

WARNINGS: mentions of self-loathing; minor instance of misgendering ( only in Fall 1999 )

NOTES: The para is easier to follow than the rest of the things in this description part I promise

FALL 1999

The first time things went wrong for Silas, he was eleven years old. He was in the fifth grade, but he wasn’t good at a lot of things. His worst subject is, and has always been, mathematics. He just isn’t good at it. He didn’t find it interesting to him, at all. And the first time things went wrong for him, was the day he failed his first test. Usually, he was pretty good at math for an eleven year old. Simple multiplications, maybe a little basic algebra. But when things started getting more complicated, he became confused. Didn’t understand what he wanted to do. And when he walked home knowing there was that 13 / 40 test in his backpack, he felt his heart fall to his stomach.

He didn’t know how his parents would react. He was the oldest; he was supposed to be the best he could be so he could be a good role model despite Jimmy only being a few minutes younger than him. Maybe it was all in his head; the pressure to excel at everything. It was a lot on his little, eleven year old shoulders. But he still wanted to try as hard as he could.

He was home a lot earlier than he should be. He was supposed to go to the theater center after school, but he didn’t feel up to going. The fear over how his family would react to that test was eating at him from the inside out; to the point where he didn’t even walk through the front door. Instead, he opened the gate to the backyard, and after making sure that he wouldn’t be seen, he scurried up the ladder to the treehouse his father had build for him and jimmy a few years ago. The wood was old, but sturdy enough to hold his small frame as he tucked himself in the corner, staring at the test. He was out there for what felt like forever for a young boy, but it was only a few hours. He didn’t even stop to think that his parents may worry about him; that they may wonder where he went. He was just afraid of how they’d react.

The sun had just started to set when he heard someone climbing up the ladder. His first thought was that it was Jimmy -- Silas had been trying to call them via twin telepathy, and maybe it had finally worked. But when he looked over, and saw his father’s head peek up from the entrance to the treehouse, he panicked and shoved the test in his backpack again.

“What are you doing up here? We were all so worried, Silas. Why didn’t you tell your brother you were coming home earlier? He could have told us.”

Silas paused, holding his backpack close to his chest. He didn’t want to show his father the test. He was afraid, so very afraid and he felt his stomach in his chest. His heartbeat was fast; paranoid. Fear.

“I...” He sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t do too well today.” He explained softly, letting his knees fall to the floor.

“What do you mean?”

“I failed a test.”

Dalton was silent. “How bad is it?”

He didn’t sound upset, more... curious. Silas took the test from his bag and handed the slightly wrinkled paper over.

“Hm. C’mon, let’s go show this to your mother.”

The fear was back in Silas’ chest as he descended the ladder, and his mother’s reaction was the same as his father’s. They weren’t mad, a little upset, and they decided to have Silas be tutored. Silas didn’t want to be, however, and from that point on he pushed himself to study harder, if anything to make his parents proud.

WINTER 2004

The second time things went wrong for Silas, he was a sophomore in high school. Sixteen years old, driving a car, and ready to see where the next few years would take him in life. He already had his own car; a small, hand-me-down vehicle that he got from his grandfather, and he had a boyfriend whom he felt ike he loved. He had spent the entirety of that past fall going to every football game and standing in the stands, cheering as loud as he could. He even dragged Jimmy to a few, just to show moral support for Damian. Damian Westbrooke was on the football team; a runningback. He was tall, attractive, and Silas felt like the luckiest boy in the world to be able to be dating him. His sophomore year started off to be one of the best of his life.

That is, until Damian asked him to meet him under the bleachers one day after practice.

Silas, as per usual, had stayed after school to watch the practice. He usually gave Damian a ride home, would say hello to Damian’s mother, then be on his way home to his own family. This time, however, he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. He had this feeling in his stomach; this feeling like he was in trouble. Almost like his fight or flight instincts, except this time it was something a little more intense. It caused his palms to sweat and his fingers to fidget; desperate for something to fiddle with.

“Hey, you.”

Silas jumped, startled by Damian appearing under the bleachers. He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t even notice the boy approaching him. He smiled, greeting Damian with a kiss on the cheek. It was normal for him -- they had been dating since the last day of school their freshman year. “Hey -- what’d you want to talk about?”

He could see Damian swallow -- the way he adjusted his practice bag on his shoulder; his fist tightening and loosening against the strap. This wasn’t good; this wasn’t good at all. Damian was avoiding eye contact -- his eyes were on the ground. The wind picked up around them, sending a breeze through Silas’ hair that made him wish he didn’t leave his beanie in his car. He could feel his heartbeat pick up -- terrified that Damian would say something was wrong, that he would say --

“I think we should break up.”

It was like a punch in the gut.

He was silent a moment; “What?”

The look on Damian’s face told him enough. There was pain, that little bit of remorse that always came with a breakup, but there wasn’t regret. And that’s what killed Silas the most. “What are you talking about, Dame?”

“I think we should break up, Silas.” He commented, adjusting his strap again.

“Why? We were doing so well. Hell, we don’t even argue--”

“The boys, in the locker room, they’ve been talking--”

“So what? Screw ‘em! You’re happy, Damian! We’re happy!”

Damian paused, blinking. Almost as if Silas had said something that he shouldn’t have. The taller boy frowned; his eyebrows pulling together.

“Damian? You are happy, right?”

“I...” Damian paused. He looked up at Silas, then back down at the ground. “No. I’m not.”

Silas took a moment, replaying every instance in his head. He couldn’t think of a time when Damian wasn’t happy; wasn’t smiling. He thought he had done a good job; that he had been a good boyfriend. Damian always told him how much he loved him. How much they were happy together -- Hell, Damian once told Silas how he looked forward to spending the rest of their lives together. It hurt, thinking that he wasn’t happy.

“Are you serious?”

He waited, but Damian nodded. And with that, the boy turned to walk away. “I’m sorry, Silas. I never meant to hurt you.”

Silas watched as Damian walked away, feeling like his heart had been ripped out.

But nothing could match the feeling he felt when he saw Damian walking hand-in-hand with Jenny the Head Cheerleader the very next day.

WINTER 2007

The third time that things went wrong for Silas was his Freshman year of college; his first year away from home. He was nineteen years old, at one of the best schools in the country, and happy as could be. He even started working on a pledge for fraternities. Things were going well.

It was the day before Christmas Eve. He had bought a ticket weeks in advance to be able to fly home for Christmas, and stay for the rest of the year in Cotton Plant before returning for classes to start again. Some of his favorite memories of home were waking up early Christmas day with Jimmy and going to sit by the tree, eagerly waiting for his parents to wake up and join them. Others included baking cookies on Christmas Eve for dinner the next day, and within the later years Olly had joined him with that. He was excited. He missed home; missed his family.

The airport was cold. He didn’t expect anything less; with the amount of people in it at this time of year it was better to keep the air on than have everyone complain about how warm it was. He sat in a chair, his luggage a little too close to his legs as he waited impatiently for the intercom to announce his flight.

It felt like hours had passed by before he heard anything. It had gotten dark outside; and since Silas had just been lost in his book he hadn’t been paying attention to the time. He had wanted to save his phone battery so he had something to drown out the noise of the plane. He finally glanced up and glanced outside, his bottom lip immediately being pulled between his teeth as he saw the snowfall. Almost moments after, he finally heard the intercom --

“Attention, members of flight 1251 to Little Rock: Your flight has been cancelled due to insufficient weather. Please visit the ticket desk for rescheduling.”

Silas all but ran to the ticket desk -- he really wanted to make it home on time. But as he saw the line, he saw how long the line was. It seemed like his flight wasn’t the only one that was cancelled. Sighing, he checked the time -- it was already 6 pm. By the time he was able to reschedule his flight, it would be beyond late and he wouldn’t have time. Nevertheless, he stood in line, and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited, until he was able to talk to the lady at the desk.

“Hello, sir. Are you here to purchase a flight ticket, or reschedule?”

“Uh,” He cleared his throat, “Reschedule.”

“Which flight?”

Tapping his finger against the desk, he placed his ticket down. “1251 to Little Rock, Arkansas.”

The lady tapped on her keyboard, then looked up at him again. “The next flight to Little Rock is tomorrow at twelve pm.”

Twelve pm. That was noon. That wasn’t enough time to get home, and do all that he wanted to do. And that didn’t even add in the fact that it would take even longer to get home because after a storm like this, the roads would be horrible. Sighing, he shook his head. “Is there any flights that have layover? Flights preferably tonight?”

She tapped away on her keyboard, and after a moment, frowned. “I’m sorry sir, but all flights for tonight have been cancelled due to the storm. The next flight isn’t until one am tomorrow to Miami.”

A dual flight from Miami to Little Rock didn’t seem too bad. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it would just take longer. And he wouldn’t get any sleep. And it would probably cost a lot more than just waiting until noon. “I’ll take the twelve o’clock pm flight to Little Rock.”

The lady was kind enough to exchange his ticket, meaning he didn’t have to pay another penny. But what he was the most frustrated about, was that the next day, the storm still hadn’t lifted. Boston was covered in snow, the streets were horrible. He had to take take the train to the airport in the first place just to find out that the twelve pm flight to Little Rock had been cancelled as well.

He had to spend his first Christmas in college alone in his dorm room because of the stupid snow. And he spent it looking at the presents he had gotten for his family -- the Harvard sweatshirt he had gotten for his father, the necklace for his mother, the snowglobe for Olly, the painting for Jimmy -- all wrapped in the corner of his room, waiting to be opened. He ate takeout that he had to trudge through the snow to get, watched his favorite movies, but that didn’t stop the empty feeling that he had the entire time. He felt beyond alone, and there was really nothing that he could do.

SUMMER 2012

The fourth time things went wrong for Silas, it was right after he graduated from school and had spent time lingering around, hoping for something that may or may not come true. He made the decision on a whim; mostly because he hadn’t wanted to go home just yet. He wanted to try and make something for himself. He had yet to have enough money saved to get his own shop, and part of him wanted to try something spontaneous. So he sold his car -- the old, beat up car he had from high school -- and took the train to New York City. He rented a small studio apartment, ready to take on the city for whatever it had with him. And he got a basic job at a coffee shop. It was nice; his post-grad life was starting off pretty well.

He started auditioning. Just something on the side; trying to see if anything happened. And things went slow at first. He knew he wasn’t going to get the parts he wanted right away, and he didn’t mind it. But when he got his first callback, he was beyond excited. He walked into the theater with confidence, his head held high and excitement coursing through his veins. He thought this was his big break. Things were going so smoothly; he was hoping for the best.

There was two things he had to do for the callback. The first thing was a re-reading of the scenes that he wasn’t able to do previously, and the second was a chemistry read with the females that had been called back. It seemed simple enough. And he did what he had to do. He did the scenes, almost memorized the slides he was given, and even made a few friends. And when he left the theater later that day, he was pretty sure that he would at least get a small part in the show.

He found out a week later that he didn’t even get that. He had heard from one of his friends from the callbacks that someone else had gotten the part, and that the reason he wasn’t cast was that the female that was cast was so much shorter than him, that it wouldn’t work. And as much as he didn’t want to believe it, he knew it was true. One of the girls was almost two feet shorter than him. And when it boiled down to it, he knew that was the girl that was cast.

He knew he shouldn’t have been upset, but he was. He really, really was.

It was a stupid thing to be upset over. But it seemed to be one of the turning points for him. He fell in a small, downward spiral after that -- not going to work, avoiding going out with friends. He just didn’t feel motivated after that. That’s what made him head home; he knew he’d be happy in Cotton Plant. But that still didn’t mean that he didn’t bring his sadness with him.

FALL 2017 -- 9/17/17

“You seem very sure of this, Mr. Smythe.” Christian commented, a smile on his face. He typed away on his keyboard, finishing up the formalities of the purchase. Silas was all but bouncing in his seat. He even dressed up for the occasion -- as dressed up as dressy casual could be.

“I am. I’ve been saving up for this for many years.”

Christian nodded, printing out the documents. He collected them all, stapled them, marked some areas with a red circle, then handed the packet to Silas. “Sign everywhere there’s a circle.”

Silas nodded, eagerly looking over the contract then picked up the pen and signed his big, scribbled signature. He glanced it over once more, and handed it back to Christian.

He had been waiting for this moment for as long as he could remember. Hell, he and CeCe talked about it when they were younger. And while he wanted her to be there with him, signing the papers -- he knew why she couldn’t. He wanted to surprise her. But things were finally going right. Things were finally falling into place and it was only a few more months of preparations before he was able to really live out his dream, with his best friend by his side. All that was left to do was buy the equipment, get his license, and start hiring. He was almost there that he felt like he could taste it.

“Alright, it seems like everything’s in order and paid for.” Christian smiled, pushing off from his desk and standing up. “Shall we go check it out?”

“Of course.” Silas was given the address, and followed Christian out to Little Rock.

The building was on the corner of a small strip mall on the outskirts of downtown Little Rock. Cars were still coming and going, and it was right next to a small diner. It seemed like the perfect spot for his plans. He parked right in front, right next to Christian, and tried not to seem too excited about it. Christian unlocked the door and let Silas inside, and the taller man couldn’t hide the grin that appeared on his face.

The walls were bare white, and the floor was hard, dark wood. It seemed that the place hadn’t been occupied in years despite it being only a few months. Silas stepped into the center of the room, taking it all in. “What did this used to be?” He asked, looking around.

“A nail studio. There’s the big area here, two rooms in the back for offices, and a bathroom.” Christian stated, watching as Silas looked around.

Ideas already started coming to life in Silas’ mind. He could hang up movie posters; make it partially his own. Bring in things that he and CeCe both loved; make it theirs. They could paint on the walls; put up his own designs. They could turn the two office spaces in the back into one big room where their artists could relax on their breaks. They could make it a great little space to be.

He was just hoping that CeCe would be willing to do this with him at the cost in mind.

He could see the chairs lining the walls. The desks at the front for check-ins and appointments to be made. Half walls to separate the artists’ spaces. Everything was coming together in his mind.

“And you said that renovations alone would only take a few months, right?”

“With dedication, yes.”

“And I can do whatever I want?”

“Within reason.”

Silas grinned. “That’s amazing.” He looked back to the area, feeling like he was about to start jumping for joy. It was coming together. It was all coming together and things were going right. He was one step closer to creating his own tattoo shop.

He was getting lost in his head again. Too busy going through ideas in his mind to notice Christian coming up behind him and tapping on his shoulder.

“Mr. Smythe?”

“Hm?”

“Here’s your keys.”

Silas grinned, taking the key in his hand. “Thank you, so much.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smythe. I’m going to head out, though -- please contact me if you have any questions. Enjoy your new space.”

It was when Christian was out the door that Silas let out a laugh, and really did jump for joy.

#p.#p. success in a small instance #p. self #st.#ft. damian #ft. olly #ft. jimmy #ft. the smythes #ft. christian #self loathing tw #misgendering tw

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