Getting Better

Discussion in 'ONE ON ONES IN CHARACTER' started by Blooming Bismuth, Apr 9, 2018.

  1. “I think it’s sweet,” he countered, finally looking up at the other in confusion. “Sure, she seems a bit... ah... hovering? I don’t know, I just wish I had a mother who would send homemade cookies to me while I was in the hospital,” he admitted fondly, though tensed when a few nurses seemed to approach. He wasn’t the biggest fan of talking to certain types of people, nurses and doctors were one of those types.

    “So... how old are you?” He questioned curiously. After all, if the man was in his late 30’s, he’d be more creeped out than if he was in his 20’s. “I just want to know more about you, especially since we’ll be spending so much time together. I... I want to, like, celebrate your birthday and whatnot.”
  2. "Oh. I'm almost 24. It's kinda sad, ain't it? I haven't got my life in check yet at almost 24 years old. You're younger than me, I'm guessing, and you were married and had a job and a place to live. Dude, you've at least achieved in life, you know? I'd kill for that sort of normalcy," he snorted to himself, rolling his eyes to try and make light of an otherwise pretty serious situation. The fact he had constantly put drugs first before his life only now made him angry.

    "Anyway, how old are you? You look pretty young-- that's a good thing. I look a lot older than I am, you don't need to be all polite about it."
  3. “21,” he admitted as his cheeks grew red bashfully. Jake was already a pretty humble person when it came to his achievements, and he always grew flustered and embarrassed when anyone praised him for even the slightest thing. This was no different, as was evident by him shyly covering his face. Despite that, he still smiled from under his sleeves.

    “I don’t think you look old. I... I think you look tough, you know? Guys who look tough but are actually really soft and precious are the best kind of people, and that’s what you are, right?” He whispered, being afraid to speak louder in fear of his voice cracking in embarrassment.
  4. "Soft and precious? I mean-- hey, that's probably spot on, but keep it to yourself. I don't need everyone in this place realising I'm actually a teddy bear behind this tough exterior," he smirked, rocking back on the chair. His response to dealing with rare compliments was to blush a tad, though he didn't want to make it obvious. He could have easily attempted to hide it, but watching Jake, he realised it just made the bashfulness all the more evident - and that wasn't particularly ideal.

    "So, 21, huh? And you were married and had a place? That's insane. It's a good thing! I'm not even ashamed to admit I'm jealous, kid."
  5. “Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of myself,” he admitted as he tapped his fingers against the table. “I may not be good at much but old people seem to like me, and that’s how I managed to get my job and stuff. I’d... be lying if I said I wasn’t incredibly grateful. I may not really believe in God much anymore but, up until what happened with Chris, I thought he was looking out for me.”

    Shrugging, he only sank further into the chair with a meek smile. While it was probably healthy to admit his accomplishments, he was always afraid that he was bragging somehow.
  6. "I'm not knocking your beliefs, but the whole God thing... it ain't something I go for, I guess. My father was Protestant and he was really into his religion before he died, but... yeah, my mother and I never really took it up," he shrugged, though his casual smile widened the instant Leigh wandered over under the guise of checking on the two, though discreetly slipped Colby her mobile phone. She had always liked him, since the first day he entered the hospital, and because she saw him as a sort of younger brother, she couldn't have but offer him treatment he shouldn't be allowed, like using her personal mobile phone for calls and texts that weren't monitored.

    Shooting her a smile, he turned his body to angle it away from some of the other nurses in the room before tapping out a text. Perhaps he should have texted his mother to let her know he was alright, but his immediate thoughts went straight to Foster, as it always did when he got the chance to text on Leigh's phone. He had no doubt that Foster would ignore him, but he hoped the news of his overdose would get his attention.

    "...You said you didn't wanna text anyone, right? Not even a buddy or something?" He asked as he finally glanced back over at Jake. "I mean, Leigh doesn't mind. It's better when you're texting someone and knowing that nobody here is monitoring the conversation, you know?"
  7. “Who would I text?” He easily replied as he watched the exchange curiously. “My sister? I don’t want to talk to her. All of Chris friends are too uncomfortable to talk to me, and my family doesn’t want anything to do with me. I was... kind of hoping I’d make friends here, you know? God - I just realized how fucking awkward going back to work will be,” he whined, covering his face shyly with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt.

    “Who are you texting? I mean, you have friends, right? You could mention me, right?” He offered in an attempt to at least sound a little less pathetic. “You know cool people - rock stars and whatnot.”
  8. "Ah, I don't really... I mean, they're not really my friends anymore. We were all friends since we were 4, went through school together and everything, but they're not so fond of me these days. Doesn't stop me texting my ex-boyfriend like a pathetic loser, though. The guy's got a record deal with my band, I should be there with them, but I'm stuck here while they're having the time of their lives. It's dumb to think he'd come and take time from that to visit me, but... I don't know until I try," he laughed, setting the phone down quietly and keeping his eyes on it in case it buzzed, though he already knew the text was never going to receive a reply. He had memorised Foster's number off by heart, and it amazed him that the man had yet to change his number. After the dozens of times he had texted and called him from the hospital over the years, the fact he hadn't changed it gave him some hope, however pathetic that in itself was.

    "...I'm pathetic, right? We haven't dated for five years, and I'm still texting him hoping he'll come running. It's... I should drop it, right? Forget about him and move on? There's some cute people here. Finding love in a hospital like this isn't impossible for me."
  9. “I don’t think you’re pathetic, I just think you’re healing slower than others and that’s okay,” he reassured with a small smile. Out of everyone in their friend group, Jake was often seen as the mother of the group while Chris was seen as the father - Jake would obsessively care for others way more than he cared for himself, while Chris was often firm in his approach to help others. In fact, the man would often scold Jake for being so careless with himself while focusing on others. It made the fact that his friends seemed to abandon him all the more painful. Just because Chris and his friends were gone, though, didn’t mean he gave up his motherly personality, especially when seeing Colby look this awful.

    “You can move on but don’t force yourself to,” he continued as he fiddled with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Isn’t that what this place is about? Slow recovery? I’m no doctor but... yeah.”
  10. "I dunno, it's just-- he was my first boyfriend, you know? I've only ever dated him. He was literally my first everything and I'm fucking stuck in this hospital and he's off getting record deals with our childhood friends and it sucks. I miss him like hell because he's actually perfect-- but I hate him because he legitimately abandoned me and he doesn't even answer my fucking texts. Least he could do is ask how I am, just once," he ranted, his voice gradually becoming more wrought with emotion the more he openly talked about Foster. He hadn't actually talked about him like this before, especially not to doctors. He considered Foster off-limits, determined not to discuss that part of his life... despite the fact he had known Foster since the age of 4 and went through every milestone with him until they were 18. Honesty was expected in the hospital, and yet he refused to talk about someone who was a part of his life for so long. Evidently, holding back that information was partly why he never truly got help, and why he always returned to the hospital in a worse state than before.

    "God, it is pathetic, don't sugarcoat it. He's my ex for a reason and he probably has a new boyfriend and he's got a whole life with Liam a-and Kieran and that's fine," he shrugged, forcing another wide grin as he slipped Leigh her phone, now convinced that he was waiting for a message that wasn't due to ever come. "Nah, I'll find someone new. I'm cute and I think I'm funny, so I have that going for me."
  11. “Chris was the same for me,” he insisted, pursing his lips. “Chris was my soulmate. I... I know how it feels to have that vital part of you missing, aha... hey, not to be a jerk but at least you know he’s okay.” He countered, hiding his agitation beautifully. After all, Colby was ranting about being dumped while his own husband was rotting in a wooden box.

    “You’ll find someone else. You’re cute, nice, and talented, I imagine. Clearly, it wasn’t meant to be if you broke up, right? You’ll find someone who’ll stay with you and you’ll realize that it was silly for you to be so attached to this guy,” he insisted, his rise in anger fading when internally reminding himself not to get mad. Besides, when Jake got mad it only made him look silly.
  12. Likewise, Colby slowly felt himself getting surprisingly annoyed by the other, even if, deep down, he knew he was just trying to help. While his ex-boyfriend wasn't dead and there was always a chance (however slim) they could reunite, he had had to suffer through the emotional turmoil of being completely abandoned by him. Granted, the other's husband had committed suicide, but he at least left a note stating that he loved Jake. Colby had to deal with the fact the one person he ever loved now hated him so much he refused to come and see him when he was in one of the darkest places of his life. Dealing with that sort of abandonment, where he knew he was disliked by those he loved most, was horrible.

    The fact Jake seemed to think he could easily move on genuinely angered him, but he managed to shrug and at least keep his temper. He did flip out easily these days, especially when suffering through withdrawal. It wasn't unheard of for him to get into fights in the hospital when provoked, even though he inherently wasn't a violent person. Drugs messed him up badly, and whilst he was trying his best to get better, it was difficult to do that when he physically felt he needed drugs to get through these bleak periods.

    "...Whatever, let's not talk about Foster. You don't get it. God, I don't expect you to, we just met, but it's not-- you don't fucking realise how much I relied on him for everything. He hates me and that... you don't understand how that feels. Let's forget it, hm? I don't want to argue with you, you're too sweet to be yelled at by an asshole like me~"
  13. Despite Jake’s silent response, he held a mix of both fury and pain behind his eyes as he stared down at the table. It was just in Jake’s nature to say nothing in response, though his white knuckles spoke volumes to his own anger. While it was hard not to notice, he tried to use him moving a piece of the puzzle into place as an excuse.

    “... I’m sorry,” he murmured, though only after a moment of silence. “I didn’t - I’m sorry. I just... want to help. I’m not very good at emotional support, huh?”
  14. "No, I... get that you're trying to help. I just think it's best for me not to mention your husband and for you not to mention Foster, I guess. It'll just make both of us mad and I really could do without the stress of arguing with someone I genuinely think could be a good friend, so hey, it's forgotten about. No worries," he quickly promised, determined to at least continue being relaxed with him, even despite the brief irritation he held. Deep down, he at least knew Jake was trying to help him out, and it was that alone that made him want to drop the annoyance he felt before it manifested into something a great deal more serious.

    "Anyway, it's not a big deal. I'm not someone who holds a grudge and-- hey, I'm sorry too. I say some stuff without thinking sometimes, so ignore me, it's... really not what I meant to do. I'm obviously not going to piss off the guy that I'll be sharing a room with purposely, that'd be dumb."
  15. “It’s fine. Sometimes I just don’t know how to react to things appropriately,” he replied, though it was pretty obvious that this wasn’t the first time he said them - in fact, they seemed to be perfectly recited. He often spoke with Chris on their issues and while his husband always approached the subject carefully, Jake was just a generally fragile person. Because of that, Chris often tiptoed around issues in fear of making his husband truly cry.

    “We’ll have to talk about this at therapy anyway, right?” He confirmed as he squirmed a bit in his seat. “Can’t wait, aha... I dunno, I guess I feel better talking to you than anyone else because you sort of know what I’m going through.”
  16. "Therapy isn't really as bad as I made it out to be, kid," he promised quickly. Despite the fact Jake was just a mere two years younger than him, he couldn't help but refer to him as 'kid'. He tended to use the word a lot with people he liked, so it wasn't something to be taken too seriously; it was simply a reflection of his budding friendship with him.

    "I mean, the psychiatrist really isn't too bad, and it's good to get stuff off your chest if you're really in the mood, so... hey, you might find therapy, ah... therapeutic," he continued with a wide grin, having now dropped the earlier animosity. He didn't hold a grudge and wasn't at all stubborn, especially when he wanted to have a good relationship with the boy. He might be stuck in the room with him for up to a year, after all.
  17. “I dunno, I don’t really want to talk to a circle of strangers about this,” he admitted nervously as he put another piece together, his free hand nervously fiddling with the edge of the smooth table. He’d be lying if he hadn’t unconsciously be looking for any way to hurt himself, both from a mix of curiosity and a genuine motive. He would never admit it, mostly because he didn’t really know he was thinking it, especially not in therapy.

    “I’m not good in groups. When Chris would take me out, it took me quite a few bottles of whiskey to convince me to talk to someone. In fact, I often got picked on for it, aha... and that wasn’t with mentally ill people, that was just with some mates. How am I suppose to say anythinf? I... I don’t want to put other people out from talking.”
  18. "...Well, I'm not mentally ill so you can talk to me. I'm only here because my mother misunderstood and got flustered like usual. Besides, there ain't nothing wrong with the people here. They're damaged but they're good people, really. But hey, you get private therapy with just the psychiatrist, one on one, so... group therapy isn't the only way to talk and get things off your chest, though I do like it. I like people. I like hearing their stories and... I dunno, it makes me feel closer to 'em," he shrugged, leaning back on his chair with an absent glance outside at the river and the bright blue sky. Being stuck indoors when the weather was gradually growing warmer wasn't particularly fun, but at least he had the possibility of getting better now he was hospitalised. This time, after all, he was determined to stay drug-free when he was released.

    "Leigh's the nicest nurse here, so she'll listen if you wanted to just talk to someone other than me. I always liked Leigh, she's really nice-- and then you can try and warm up to the cooks. That's my advice to you. I got them on side when I first came here and they tend to, like, give me extra food and stuff. It's pretty smart to be friends with them."
  19. “Am... I messed up?” He questioned after a moment of quiet. “I’m here, obviously, a-and I’m not here by choice, obviously. Is there something wrong with me? I know it isn’t normal to want to kill yourself, sure, b-but I don’t know what they can do to help me here, I guess? I told you I don’t know how this works. I don’t want to take pills and become a different person. I don’t want to change for the worse, I guess?” He babbled, his sudden anxiety at the realization, his eyes widening. He took a deep breath, though, to relax himself and keep the nurses away. He had undiagnosed anxiety since he was young and he vividly remembered the day he sat beside Jake just reviewing ways to help him deal with it. They worked for the most part, surprisingly, with only a few panic attacks ever slipping out.

    “You’ll have to introduce me,” he eventually whispered before offering a meek smile. “Like I said, I’m not the best with just walking up to people and making friends with them. You were an exception, especially since we’re roommates, so I gotta get along with you, yeah?”
  20. "We're all a little messed up, but that's fine. Jeez, there's something comforting in knowing that I'm not odd in here, you know? I'm messed up but so is everyone else and that's... kinda neat, in a really weird way. It's nice knowing I'm not alone, however cheesy that sounds," the older of the two grinned, giving up on the puzzle and instead swiping the nearby newspaper, even if he had very little interest in the headlines - it just gave his eyes something to focus on for a few minutes.

    "Oh hey, you don't have to like me. Like, I've had a few roommates in my time here and there was one guy who I really hated and he really hated me. We didn't click and he threatened all the time to suffocate me in my sleep-- he got moved on to a place down south after that. So hey, don't feel obligated to get on with me. If I'm being a dick, you can tell me, dude. I still like you."