TWO --
revisiting ghosts with @aszion, late in an undisclosed bar.
the glass feels clammy against his palm. the room feels too warm. the people too loud. a crackle of white noise that buzzes like a swarm of flies overhead. discomfort, and it wraps around him like wet wool. it didn’t used to feel like this, a claustrophobia that chokes at him. jae’s presence a rope wound around his throat. he used to be a comfort, back then. someone he’d seek out. a balm, a thick and honeyed thing, their relationship. like jae knew him. and he knew him better than most. sol has a way about him, a thorny disposition and it’s hard not to cut down deep in the process.
it softened though, over time. at least around jae. at least a little bit. sol identified with him. a kinship that was built up from a shared profession and the loneliness it struck them both with. it made sense, to come together. camaraderie. a shared experience. sol doesn’t have a name for them, really. what they were. but he knows what they are now. that’s easy enough to figure out.
nothing.
and yet -- here he is. crammed into this bar with him. sol’s got his shoulders hunched, and his eyes keep sliding toward the doors, like he’s contemplating making a break for it. probably because he is. jae might be able to spot that. if he remembers much about him. not that it’s all too fair for sol to cast judgement. he was technically the one who cut and ran. but he also thinks jae forced it out of him. went off and joined something bigger, something sol had admitted he could never be a part of. it felt a lot like being cut out. cut down.
cast aside, and that wasn’t new. and that’s what he got, wasn’t it? for trusting someone.
and how did it make it better, when jae asked him along? like an afterthought, and it burned him harsh and raw. because sol hated the thought of it. all he wanted to do was carry on, keep his head down, keep himself afloat. he didn’t want to make waves. he didn’t want to catch attention. he wanted to continue his dead-drift. a ghost of a boy. but what did jae care? and what did jae know about him in the end, anyway? fuck all as far as sol’s concerned.
“so...” he starts. stops. what’s there to talk about? what an unfortunate meeting, didn’t know you still worked these low-circuit jobs that i do? it tastes flat on his tongue, and so he doesn’t push it past the barrier of his teeth. he drinks it down instead, drowns it in liquid reminiscent of acid. too strong, but that’s what sol’s after right now.
“so.” he tries again, wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “don’t you got somewhere to be?” that falls flat too, but it least it doesn’t feel as personal.