Author's note: Gabe couldn't make an appearance in Next to Natalie, so here he is. I think he's so interesting and complicated, both as a symbolic mechanism within the show and as a character in his own right; so I decided to experiment a bit with the style in this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Next to Normal.
"You actually have it really good, you know." The boy leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His appearance is dull, except for his blue eyes, which are the only thing about him that really come alive and catch attention. These eyes trace the path of frenzied pacing, moving back and forth like a pendulum. These eyes display a combination of annoyance and resignation.
The girl doesn't know she's being watched. She is utterly oblivious, pacing a few steps, throwing open the doors to the medicine cabinet, banging them shut, pacing some more, and shooting annoyed looks at her persistently-vibrating phone, which lies face-down on the countertop beside the sink, bearing questioning text messages from her boyfriend.
"Did you ever think that maybe I'm as bitter about this whole thing as you are?" The boy continues speaking to her, even though he knows she'll never answer him. She never does. "At least you get full interaction with the world, and Dad acknowledges that you exist."
He has their mother's wavy blonde hair and their father's blue eyes. She has their father's stick-straight brown hair and their mother's hazel eyes. He is athletic and has a beautiful smile. She is slender and also has a beautiful smile, although she can more often be caught with a brooding look painting her features. The father goes to work, while the mother stays at home and plays wife. The boy is charismatic and the girl has a GPA of 4.0 and the parents still love each other, despite tying the knot so young.
It's such a pity that the boy is dead and the girl has no sense of self and the mother is drowning and the father can barely keep himself afloat.
"I still don't like him, but Stoner Boy is right to be worried," the boy says, changing his train of thought, referencing the stream of messages. "I remember you sitting half-asleep at the back of the room, all because you refused to take a sick day, even though you probably needed ten of them. You don't miss school for anything."
As if she's heard him (but he knows she hasn't), she huffs in frustration and plucks her phone from the counter, carting it to her bedroom to distance herself from it and its persistent buzzing. He watches her go, staying where he is for a pause, then sighing and moving away. He goes into their parents' bedroom. He knows exactly where it is, the thing that she's looking for. It's under a pile of stuff in their mother's side of the closet. He retrieves it and sets it in the bathroom for her to find when she comes back.
He loves his sister. He likes to mock her and annoy her, but he also likes to help her and look out for her. Unfortunately, the things she needs help with aren't always good ideas, like finding their mother's leftover pills and taking several. But he still helps her. He doesn't approve, but he helps her. It isn't his life and they aren't his mistakes to make, and he knows that he can't force her to re-evaluate her decisions before she goes through with them. Hindsight is the best teacher.
"Those things are going to make you feel like shit," he informs her when she comes back, studying the pleased look on her face, "but if you insist on being stupid…."
This time, he follows when she pulls out a few bottles and takes them back to her room, talking away at her all the while.
"You don't need those," he repeats. "You don't need to pretend you're alive because you are alive. I really meant what I said before, about you having it good. You have Henry and good grades and the potential to go to Yale and become a world-class pianist and run for president and find the cure for brain cancer. Think about that for a moment."
Now he's angry. "Think about all the options that are spread out in front of you. And you think that slow suicide with mind-altering substances is the best one? What happened to the sister I knew, the one who was focused on surviving and getting out and making something of herself? Trust me, pharmaceuticals don't help. Just look at Mom; she went off them for a reason."
Throughout his monologue, she has taken out three pills, three different kinds, and taken a few guilty glances over her shoulder.
"Seriously. Don't." He crouches down and snaps his fingers in front of her face, but of course, she doesn't see him.
He likes the way he can watch people, the way he can go where he pleases and influence some things. Sometimes he even likes that nobody knows he's there, but more often than not, it's frustrating. It's also incredibly lonely. He has his mother, but she can't be with him all the time, and people are always trying to separate them. The girl accuses him (indirectly, words said to her boyfriend) of being Superboy, while she's stuck being the Invisible Girl, but she has the rest of her life ahead of her. His ended a long time ago. He is, quite literally, the invisible one, a ghost of who he could have been. The irony.
"What the hell," she exclaims with a shrug.
He turns away as she tips her head back and washes down the multi-coloured capsules. "Have fun," he says, dryly, in parting. He has other things to do, like follow his father around and pick a one-sided argument. He knows that it's useless to rage against those who can't see him, but it makes him feel better nonetheless. It makes him feel like maybe the sparks from his words will burn the air and people will finally be able to hear him.