Getting Better

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"Nah, I don't need to leave any time soon," he admitted as he held the cup right, a meek smile on his lips as he held the contraband. The man took a deep sip of the tea and let out a soft hum. It wasn't perfect, though beggars can't be choosers. If it were up to him he'd put in a teaspoon of local honey and just a bit of cream. Some basic breakfast tea was... better than nothing.

"The garden sounds nice," he admitted. "I have a black thumb, the only thing I've ever been able to keep alive was this cactus. It's pretty big, I've had it since I was young, but everything else I've tried to grow dies within a week. Either that or we gave them to the cafe owner and she'd put them in, like, plant hospice."
 
"I'm pretty good at growing plants, actually. My, uh... ex used to grow weed a lot in his attic when he got his own place and I helped him out with that, so I have pretty good green fingers, you know? Not that it's good to... do that, but like you said, I've done some really bad things. Can't see why you think I'm a good guy, I'm pretty fucking useless," he laughed, holding the door open to the gardens behind the building. The space wasn't incredibly large, given the hospital was in central London, but the fact there was a little greenery and surprisingly quiet given the bustling city beyond the enclosed walls was a nice factor. Even Colby, who barely appreciated nature, found he needed some peace like this from time to time.

"It's never really busy out here," he promised, parking himself onto one of the plastic benches, just in front of a pond that had only recently been finished. "I mean, some of the older people come and relax out here, and then there's Kev, who's always wandering about, but that's about it. The weather's so shitty that it's mostly always raining so there's not much of a chance to sit out and chill out here, I guess."
 
"You can't be useless if you garden well," he corrected quickly as he trailed alongside the other. Taking a seat on one of the chairs, he smiled fondly at the sight before sighing and taking in the rare, warm weather.

"I love the sun," he admitted, his eyes still closed tight. "My mother always said that I was like a plant, to come full circle. I probably have that - what is it called? Seasonal depression or something? My mother was very anti-doctors and whatnot, though," he admitted, his smile only briefly faltering. "This will... be nice, I suppose. I don't mean to be cheesy but I'm glad I can learn all of this with you."
 
"I like cheesy. I'm real good at being cheesy-- honestly, some of the songs I wrote when I was, like, 15 were corny as hell, so don't apologise for it, kid. I think it's kinda adorable, and who doesn't like being called adorable? I like it. I get that I'm hardly adorable-looking -I look kinda rough- but I'd love someone to come up to me and say I was cute, that's always nice," he smiled, propping his feet up on the fence surrounding the pond and, once noticing the sun come out from behind the clouds a little more, he rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. There wasn't many times he could really relax like this, so he was determined to soak it up whilst he could.

"See, my mother's not anti-doctors. She would whisk me to the local GP the moment I came down with a sore throat as a kid, she's a little too... worried about stuff. Really, I'm not exaggerating. I'd sneeze once and she'd be dragging me to get checked out. I'm not that surprised that she's forced me in here," he mumbled, more to himself than to the other, though did open his eyes again to take Jake in. "...Hey, I'm glad you're here. It'd suck if I didn't have someone around my age, so I know it's totally weird for you being here, but... hey, I'm happy I got to meet 'ya."
 
"Oh, no. My mother was all into that anti-vaccine sort of thing. She claimed that it 'wasn't what God wanted', and that 'if I were to get sick, it was in God's plan'. I was sick for, like... 1/3rd of my entire life. I still haven't got my shots and whatnot yet and I'm 21," He snorted, though did smile at the memory. The fact that he was so afraid of his parents growing up was hilarious upon retrospect.

"Chris would often come over and be all dramatic, wearing gloves and those face masks and whatnot. He would tease me, too. Say that I couldn't kiss him until I got better but we both knew it took more than a week to get over little things," he continued quietly before looking over at Colby to copy his stance.

"I'd love to hear you sing, or play. I'm sure they won't let you have an instrument here but they can't take away your voice, yes?" He confirmed before closing his eyes once again. "I mean, sure you didn't make it big with your "friends" but you don't need them if you're talented yourself. You'll find new friends and make a new band and prove those jerks wrong."
 
"Hey, that's totally the plan. I'm not gonna wallow and moan about the assholes. The band was my idea and I was kinda the glue that held it together for a while, but if they want to move on without me, that's fine. I'll just have to work hard when I get out of this place and show them that it was pretty dumb of them to turn their backs on me," grinned Colby with just the right amount of confidence. He could sit about and whine, which he was prone to doing now and then like anyone else, but it wasn't the predominant state of mind for him. He wasn't someone who generally let his mind get the best of him, or his past for that matter. Moving on and looking forward to the future was something he tried to do - it gave him something to focus on, anyway.

"Nah, I have friends I made over the years who are into music, it'll be easy getting a band up and going. I'm not going to be all cocky, but... I can play guitar and I sing good, so I've got the basics down-- you don't play any instruments, do 'ya?" He questioned quickly, opening his eyes back up again with genuine interest. "Because, god, it'd be great if you could. I'd totally have you in a band with me."
 
"Well, I know some piano and violin..." he admitted, though his face grew red. "I... I haven't played in awhile but, yeah. I was a part of our school's orchestra, head violin. I sort of left it back at my parents' place and I just... haven't played yet. As for the piano, I still play in regularly. I convinced my boss to put one in the cafe, in the corner. I just sort of taught myself. I'm... not very great," he whispered, though a part of him knew that was a lie. Despite insisting that he was the very definition of mediocre, Jake was amazing at both instruments but, like many, he was too afraid to practice in front of anyone. Hell, it took quite awhile for him to be okay with practicing in front of Chris.

"Why? Are you suggesting I start a band with you? Ah... I don't know, I'm not a punk rocker. I like classical music, aha... it's pretty boring - I'm pretty boring," he insisted with a nervous laugh.
 
"Oh, shut up! That sounds great! Like, I always wanna be unique, you know? Not a copycat. I want to do new stuff, invent new ways of doing things. Having a pianist in the band is something Foster and the other guys don't have. It'd be ace, Jake. Your image is totally fine, too. We could dye your hair or give you a little makeover, but it ain't necessary. I dye my hair, obviously. I'm not a natural blonde," he laughed, quietly running his hand through his platinum hair. The one thing he hated about being institutionalised was the fact he couldn't dye his hair when the roots began to show. Being in for a year or more, as he imagined he would be, was a disaster as far as his hair was concerned.

"Nah, we don't have to make any agreement or anything. The offer is there though-- I'm sure you're real good, and it'd be neat to have that aspect in the band, I think it sounds cool. But hey, you don't have to, if that ain't your thing."
 
"Dye my hair? To... what?" He questioned in genuine curiosity, his eyes wide and sparkling in genuine excitement. Smiling bashfully at the thought, he pushed his hair from his face with a soft and rather girlish giggle in shock. "I don't even know if I would look cute with anything but brown? It's... exciting. Oh, I always wanted to dye my hair, like... red," he admitted before letting his hand reach for his hair.

"That's too crazy, right? Oh, no. I sort of wanted to get my nose pierced at one point but I think I'd probably cry. There's this girl who goes to the cafe who has a Mohawk and those giant stretched ears and she's one of the nicest people I've ever met. She has these shoes with spikes on them and she threatened to fight this one dick who made me cry with a knife. Knowing her, she'll probably bother my boss out of worry."
 
"When we get out of this place, why don't you do that? You don't need to look a certain way, you can look how you want, but it'd be neat to see you with, like, bright red hair and a nose piercing, I think you'd look great," he praised quickly, latching onto the idea the moment it was brought up. It wasn't necessary, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be fun to experiment and change the other's image up a little.

"Foster -my ex- has had, like, every colour of the rainbow, sometimes at the same time. He was, like, 12 when he came into school with this lilac colour and the teachers lost their shit when me, Liam and Kieran all turned up the next day with the same thing. We thought we were being really rebellious, you know? But god, we looked like idiots. None of us knew how to dye our hair properly so it was all patchy and... ugh, it's cringey."
 
"That's cool, what are you talking about? I'm sure you looked ridiculous but at least you were brave enough to do it - did your mother approve? Oh, gosh, my mother would pop a vein if she saw me with purple hair. She'd provably just tug my hair and dye it back before anyone could see," he explained casually. Despite his casual tone, though, he wasn't far from the truth when it came to minor abuse by his mother.

He'd often be slapped if he got into anything he wasn't supposed to, or forced to skip meals if he didn't do something right. He never spoke about it because he never found it weird and, evidently, it seemed that Chris had gone through the same thing. It was more surprising to hear Colby's mother dyed his hair than he thought it would be to admit something so seemingly trivial as minor abuse.
 
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"Course she didn't approve, she called me an idiot. Mind you, she said I should have asked for her help, so I think she was just mad that I looked so dumb. She's a real pain in the ass sometimes, but she's pretty cool, for a mother," he smiled, falling quiet after the admission. He had butted heads with his mother for years, since his addiction really took hold. Often, he was so caught up in it all that he neglected her help and failed to see that she was just concerned for him. Only now did he really see that his mother at least cared about him. Some people didn't get to have a mother like that, and he got the inkling that Jake's mother was hardly the nurturing type.

"Ah, anyway. The whole band thing. I'm down for it if you are, it'd be rad. I have a mate who can play drums, and I can play guitar so I could totally multitask..." He babbled, his eyes settling on the sky above them. "...It's just nice for me to think that I could do that again, I guess. Can't see it happening, but it's nice to dream, huh?"
 
"Why couldn't you do it again? I mean, if you're as talented as you make yourself out to be, I don't understand why you couldn't get back on your feet," he responded simply as he himself simply enjoyed what he considered 'quiet'. His flat didn't have proper air conditioning so he often had to leave the windows open on hot summer nights. Because of that, he became accustomed to the loud city vibe. Sure, there still was the faint noise of traffic but it was still... nice.

"Why do you keep calling me kid?" He finally murmured after a moment of simply enjoying the quiet. "You're only two years older than me, Colby. We're... both adults. Sure, you're a little taller and older but I'm no 'kid'," he huffed. "I mean, I still get carded when I go to the liqueur store but still! They've just never seen a proper 20 year old..."
 
"Do you take offence to that? I mean, I don't realise I'm saying it, it ain't... an ageist thing. Like you said, I'm literally two years older than you, so I can't assert any authority-- not that I would anyway. I dunno, I say it to everyone. It's my thing, I guess. Foster always used to call everyone 'lad', you know? That was annoying. I'll... stop, if it's really bothering you. I don't realise people might have an issue," he awkwardly smiled, quickly forcing the urge to affectionately continue his habit of calling people 'kid'. It was definitely a term he used without realising he said it, and the fact he was picked up on it genuinely surprised him. He wasn't sure if Jake was offended, or simply curious, but to be on the safe side, he was quite happy to censor himself.

"...Anyway, I won't do it again, relax. I'm... a jerk sometimes, but not an inconsiderate one. You don't need to tell me twice, I listen and I'm respectful-- when I'm sober and not high, anyway. I'm not so nice when I'm on that shit, really."
 
"No, no, I don't think it's annoying! In fact, I think it's sweet. It reminds me of, like, a big brother," he explained quickly with a nervous smile. "A-Aha, relax. Keep calling me kid, okay? It's... familiar, I suppose? Not familiar, inviting? Look, I just like it. If you want a nickname from me, I'd love to give you one," He babbled, guilt immediately hitting as he nervously fiddled with the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

"What would you even want to be called?" He questioned curiously before leaning back a tad further into the chair. He wanted to seem relaxed despite his growing anxiety over fucking up with the other.
 
"I dunno, anything nice-- hot stuff? Gorgeous? Something like that, maybe-- kidding. Before you get all bashful and shit, I'm kidding. I don't need a nickname. People used to call me CJ but that reminds me of Foster and I don't want to think about him, really. More I hang out with you and hear about you and your husband, the more I realise that Foster's a dick. I dunno. Relationships aren't easy, huh? That said, it's been ages since I had someone," he smiled quietly, his eyes scanning the few patients venturing outside for a walk around the garden, offering his customary grin and friendly comment to them once they recognised him and realised he was back.

"He's kinda cute," he began absently with a faint nod to the young man treading along silently behind the disorderly group of women. "And he's real nice. If ever I get shoved out of here and you haven't got released yet, you should befriend Brendon. He's quiet and he's, like, only 29 or something like that-- he's young, basically. Hey, if you get bored of me chattering and talking, he's a good shout. He doesn't speak-- or there's Val. She's older but she's a sweetheart. When I got released the first time, she made me a scarf to give to me before I left."
 
"That's nice," he admitted as he watched the boy curious. With a hand still clutching the cup of tea, he watched the others with a small frown. He didn't know what he was expecting when being admitted to the hospital but he was at least hoping that it would be a little different from the movies. From what he could see, though, it wasn't completely off in his mind from what he saw in the media.

"... are all of these people here for suicide attempts?" He questioned warily as he stared at the other, his lips pursing. "That's so... sad. I guess it's a bit of a shock. I thought I was creative but I guess not, aha..."
 
"You were embarrassed that you failed at killing yourself, right? Well, everyone here kinda failed too, so you're not alone. God, that's a morbid way of looking at it, but... it's kinda true. We're all in this together and all that cheesy stuff. Mind you, I didn't try to kill myself. I'm just an idiot who couldn't control my doses properly," he snorted, laying his head back and closing his eyes to soak up the sun as much as he could. It would have been perfect if he had his favourite sunglasses and a cold bottle of beer, but that was obviously far too much to ask for when he was institutionalised like this.

"But it's comforting in a way, yeah? To know you're not some oddball; that everyone here has similar issues. I'm more at home in here than outside. At least in here nobody really judges me. It's nice, in that way."
 
"It makes it worse," he admitted. "Not for, like, me as a person but for the fact that all of these people tried and failed. Like... how can we all be so horrible at it? I'm not regretting wanting to kill myself. I guess this is bad but I don't regret wanting to die. I... I mean, I still do, you know? I think my sister put me in here thinking it would shock me and magically make me feel better, but I don't. I get it takes time for recovery and whatnot but I'm not going to lie and say I feel super," he explained honestly, though he didn't frown. Instead, he offered a smile in fact.

"Can't do anything drastic or they'll take me away from you and I really don't want to do that. You're my only friend right now, after all. I hope you don't mind that, by the way. The whole 'friend' title, I mean."
 
"Nobody's saying you should suddenly love life again, it's a long process I guess. You're not going to suddenly want to keep living just because you've stepped into this place. I get that-- hell, everyone gets it. Hey, do you think I'm not craving some heroin right now? I'd sell a fucking kidney to get my hands on some. Just because I overdosed and went through that hell doesn't mean the cravings suddenly stop. But hey, it'll get better and I'm sure there'll be a time when I can actually move on from the drug thing," he began, pursing his lips to himself. Dishing out advice wasn't necessarily his forte, especially when he'd rather leave that sort of thing to the professionals who were experts at dealing with patients like him and Jake. That said, he wasn't going to sit back and let someone he now saw as a friend talk about something so personal and not get any response for it.

"Course we're friends," he eventually grinned, at least happy that the conversation had moved on a little. "I like you, you're real neat. We'll be friends after this too. I'm kinda in desperate need for new friends. The ones I have are all drug addicts and that's hardly... healthy. Being friends with a cool guy like you who doesn't do that shit is beneficial-- and it helps that you're fun to be around."
 
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