Can you share something from your new wip? No pressure!
i can!!! this is a bit of one of my favourite scenes that i've written
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“There’s–” George slurs his words when he’s drunk, usually, but suddenly he’s seven again, telling the speech therapist that fish do not make noises, and every word rings clear. “These scientists in Japan, they decapitated sacoglossan sea slugs to see if they would regrow their bodies,”
“What?" Lando reaches for him, a crumpled shape on the sidewalk. "George. What are you talking about?”
“Some animals,” George explains, like he’s a lecturer, and not completely wasted on the side of the road. “They can regenerate limbs. But.” He sucks in air. “This sea slug can. They can decapitate themselves and live without their bodies.” As soon as he says it, he starts to cry. The tears fall down his face in hot, angry starbursts, something warm, warmer than the cold air. Like the warm rain of Thailand. Somehow, the sensation makes him cry harder, he feels his ribs constrict in response.
“Are you–” Lando’s hands on his shoulders are firm, trying to tug him forward, up, perhaps. George doesn’t think he can move, the dull ache inside his chest has transformed completely, into a sharp twist of agony. “George.”
“The slug can live without its heart,” George says, through a gurgle. He’s not making any sense, he knows that now, he knows that Lando has no idea what sacoglossan even means. He moves his fingers from his hair onto the damp cobblestones underneath him. They’re cold, slimy. Almost like algae covered rocks on the intertidal zone in Kamala beach. If he lifted a cobblestone, here, in London, he would not find a hermit crab. There’s no trace of Thailand around him at all, really, other than the tears that dribble down the bridge of his nose. It’s so cold. He sucks in more air, trying to chase humidity that doesn’t exist, and feels the burn in his lungs like a kick to the gut.
“George you’re drunk,” Lando says, talking slowly, like George is a child. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I am,” he says, adamant. “The slug can grow a new body,” Another shaky sob wracks through him. “It can live with its brain, nothing else. It doesn’t need its organs, or its heart. If I could just,” Lando’s hands move from his shoulders to his back, trying again to get him to stand up. “If I could just cut my head off, I would. It would be so easy. I could grow something new, and I wouldn’t have to hurt all the time.”
“George,” Lando says again, strained. “Lets talk about this tomorrow, okay? You’re so drunk. I’m sorry I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple,” George insists, looking up at Lando for the first time since he sat down. The stones are still wet to the touch. He wants to ask Lando if he remembers, when they spoke the first night in Phuket, and George had been looking for snails and Lando had told him off, said I’m your friend, hurt and angry and George had felt numb down to his toes. “You said. You told me to talk to you, so I’m. I’m trying to explain.”
“Okay,” Lando says, but he’s frowning, and his face isn’t matching what he’s saying. George’s face is so wet. His hands are wet too. He’s almost underwater. The thought brings a flutter to his chest that he tries to latch onto. “I’m listening,” Lando insists, but he sounds frustrated, the flutter disappears, and George’s chest cracks open.
“The–” He’s lost his train of thought, by then, all he feels is shattered open and exposed, the sort of vulnerability he’d been avoiding for a lifetime. “I just wish I could do that.” George says, like it’s so simple. His shoulders shake and he curls into himself once again, going back into his shell.
Everything would be easier if he was underwater. If he was something else, if he was a lab grown sea slug in a university in Japan. If he was able to take only his brain, leave his heart behind and forget. That’s the part that hurts, the twinge in his chest whenever he hears Alex’s voice in the back of his recordings, the unbidden memory of his smile. The sunlight, trickling through the windows, on the rare days it shows itself. Even the wind, whipping at his skin, like he’s standing on the flybridge with the whole world at their fingertips. All of that, he could cut away and leave behind. In the study, the remaining bodies of the sea slugs had withered away after a few days. It had only taken 17 days for the slugs to have completely regenerated. That’s nothing, he thinks. It’s been nearly 4 months since he’s come back from Thailand.
The logical part of George knows that it’s a farce. Memories are stored in the brain. The memories of Alex are enough to wound him, without his heart, without the rest of his body attached. Even if he grew something new, found a new shell, or walked down these roads he paves for himself, promises of something greater, he knows that nothing would change. He’s the same person he’s been forever, no matter what he shoves in boxes or cuts away. The limbs that grow back have changed cells, maybe, but they’re still George.
That, in itself, is the hardest thing for him to accept at all.
omg i only recently started reading galex and your fics have absolutely consumed me!! i cried real tears reading i wait for you and now the you're afraid update has me so tentatively excited/scared for george. i love the way you write him and how he grapples with not fitting it, it strikes such a chord and reads so authentic! also love how you make alex feel like a safe harbor for george while still a mystery, we never really know what he's thinking. and the george&lewis friendship moments, they make me so happy for george that he has someone in his corner even if he doesnt know it. Do you have any insights you can share about how alex feels about george?? clearly he likes taking care of him but does he know/recognize that himself? Also will we get to see jealous!alex at all? sorry for all the questions, i just LOVE your stories!
aw this is so kind ^__^ thank you so much. i’m obsessed with making george suffer for some reason but i hope that the payoff is always worth it haha i typed for a million years so i’ll put that under the cut
i definitely plan alex’s character just as much as i plan george’s! i feel like writing break as a sequel to pretend was such a good way for me to give the audience his voice and perspective, because to me it’s so clear why he behaves that way because i created him but i doubt that will ever happen for phuketverse, since the nature of the story isn’t the same at all. i think a huge part of the story and his character is the weird sense of mystery because everything is so overblown from george’s cluttered perspective. it’s clear that obtaining information is really important to him, especially when he’s interested or intrigued, but that’s very easy when your subject matter is a marine animal and not a guy you’re meant to be “working” with who you so confusingly find attractive.
alex as a person and as a character are obviously two different people, i don’t know alex albon personally but the character i create based on his life and personality would definitely be a caring person. i think alex as an older brother, especially within the context of phuketverse, is a caring person. it’s also part of his job in a way! dive operators are basically babysitters for tourists or people who book their charters; they have a huge duty of care for everybody on their boat and george is no exception.
releasing a fic chapter by chapter is sooo hard for me because i think they’re definitely better digested as complete works. i make them sooooo long and stupidly detailed that i think it’s much better to pick up on all of the nuances, but i wanted the challenge of actually finishing something so here we are! i don’t want to spoil anything so i won’t but i hope this was little bit insightful, sorry for rambling
