Chapter 4: Like Walking Into a Dream
"We're here, runt. What d'ya think?"
Gamzee's jaw dropped as he stepped out of the car and stared at the magnificent testament to modern architecture in front of him. The front of the condominium was all dark glass latticed by thin beams of steel, sharply contrasted by its bright white sides intersecting at crisp right angles. The walkway leading up to the front door was paved in white concrete with flecks of glassy rock inlaid in a twisting pattern. In the moonlight, the pathway appeared to be a silvery river with sparkles thrown over the top. The effect was mesmerizing, and Gamzee couldn't help but stare in awe. There was no way he was going to live in this paradise.
His father chuckled as he slammed the car door shut behind him. "I'm guessing you like it?"
"Hell fucking yes, man," Gamzee breathed. He took a few timid steps towards the front of the complex and paused, self-consciously wiping his hands off on his pants as if his childhood in the ghetto were a film of dirt he could remove with enough rubbing.
He turned his head back and grinned at his dad. "You sure I'm gonna be livin' here?"
"That's what I said, wasn't it? Now pick your jaw off the ground; can't be having my son lookin' like a goddamned imbecile."
"Uh, yeah, sure man." Gamzee sheepishly shrugged and turned around, waiting for his father to pass and following after. The two made their way through the entryway decorated in purples, golds, and blacks, to an elevator resembling something out of an old movie set in London. However, instead of rusted netting, this lift featured wrought iron roses intertwined around various objects such as a fork, an arrow, dice, and a harpoon. Gamzee found the design interesting, but could not fathom the significance of the random assortment of objects.
"Yo, dad," he asked as this father jabbed at the topmost button and began the elevator on its smooth ride upwards. His father grunted in response. "What's these things all about?" Gamzee gestured with his hand towards the elevator's netting.
"Those?" His mouth twisted in a knowing sort of smile. "Eh, don't worry about it. Don't see why any of that'll motherfuckin' apply to you any time soon."
He was unsatisfied, but let the question drop. The two rode quietly for a while, but eventually his dad began to hum a soft, hypnotic tune. The melody wafted into Gamzee's ears and caused the boy to feel a deep, crushing sense of nostalgia for no particular reason. He took a deep breath and waited for what he assumed was the chorus, joining in with his own lilting voice. After a while, he felt an arm drape around his shoulder and pull his skinny frame towards the wall of muscle next to him, solid and unfamiliar, but comforting all the same.
The elevator chimed soon afterwards, causing his dad to pull away to open the elevator. Father and son walked out onto a floor of plush purple carpet soft enough to give Gamzee the strong urge to lie down and take a nap upon it. The older turned a corner, telling Gamzee to "Stay the fuck put" while he unlocked the door to their room. Feeling it as good a time as any, he sat down and rubbed his face against the floor, marveling at how it was softer than all the blankets and pillows in his old house put together. He rolled onto his back and contented himself with making carpet angels, offhandedly wondering how silly it must look for a fourteen-year old to be rubbing himself on the ground.
"Pretty motherfuckin' hilarious," Gamzee mumbled, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly.
"What did you say—Gamzee. What the fuck are you doing."
His eyes snapped open and fixed upon the man staring dumbfounded at him. Gamzee sat up quickly, shaking off the head rush, and gave an apologetic smile.
"Sorry man, it's just this shit is so motherfuckin' soft, and—"
His father held up a hand and sighed in exasperation. "Don't explain; I don't want to hear it. Just get your ass up and check out your new place."
New place? Gamzee could not recall any other configuration of words that could make him move as quickly. Except maybe his mother's screeches of how hard she planned on beating his face in. A sadistic smile flitted across his features, hopefully too brief to his father to notice. The only thing he regretted from killing his mom was how fast it had all been. If he had more time, Gamzee would have definitely shown her how much it hurt to have things swung at their head, among other things. Ducking past his dad, he ran over to the open door and stopped dead.
The place was motherfucking miraculous.
The carpet from the hallway continued smoothly into the grand living room, where a white sectional curved against the wall in front of several floor-to-ceiling windows sporting dark curtains. The coffee table near the sofa held a few coffee mugs and the remnants of what Gamzee assumed was his father's lunch. Taking a few steps in and looking left, the boy almost fainted at the state of the kitchen. All state-of-the-art appliances, granite countertops, and bright white tiles upon the floor. The cabinets were a dark color, probably ebony wood, and lined the entire wall over the two stoves.
Wait a motherfucking second. There were two stoves? Gamzee ran over to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him. Sure enough, two stoves bearing four burners each stood side-by-side, one gas, the other electronic. His fingers ran longingly over the knobs and the surface, images of the things he could make on such a setup running through his head. As a picture of a lime-green pie drifted across his mind's eye, he stopped. Where was the oven? The boy looked around, confused as to why his dad had no oven in his miracle of a kitchen.
"Looking for something?" He heard the heavy footfalls signaling his father's presence.
"Yeah, I motherfuckin' am. Where's the oven?" Gamzee looked questioningly at the man behind him.
His mouth quirked into a smile. "Over there," he answered, pointing at an inconspicuous piece of wall to Gamzee's left.
Curious and somewhat skeptical, Gamzee walked over and poked at where his dad pointed. Nothing happened, as expected. Looking back, he saw his dad making a pulling motion while simultaneously gesturing at the knob above where he poked. Reaching up, he grabbed the knob and pulled, almost letting go and leaping back when a square-shaped bit of wall fell open and revealed the shining interior of the largest oven Gamzee had ever seen.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, sticking his head inside. "How the mother fuck did this bitch get in here?"
"Got it built for me. Fuck being conventional," his father answered, thoroughly amused.
"Got that right…" Gamzee wonderingly stared at the oven for a while longer, then shut it and looked at his dad. "Pretty sweet pad you've got here, man!"
"You've only looked at the kitchen, idiot. There's a whole lot more to see." With a massive hand, he pushed Gamzee out of the kitchen and into what he guessed was a formal dining room. An elaborate chandelier with multicolored crystals hung from the ceiling and would have illuminated the twelve-person dining table had it been turned on. Still steering his son, he made his way through the room, turned right, and walked down a hallway painted dark purple to the first room on the left.
"That's yours. Go check it out while I get some things in order." He nudged Gamzee towards the door and walked further down into another room, slamming the door shut. Gamzee wasted no time and opened the door eagerly, curious about what lie behind.
A low whistle escaped his lips as he regarded his new room. It was completely white, decorated simply with a large queen-sized bed in one corner, a desk standing perpendicular to it, and a dark wooden dresser and closet on the third wall. After checking to see if the coast was clear, Gamzee took a running leap into the plush blankets. Laughter bubbled up from inside him, half giddy, half relieved. He had his own bed. He had his own fucking room.
Gamzee rolled onto his side and laughed with more mirth than he had ever laughed with before. He laughed until he was clutching his sides in pain and tears rolled down his face. He laughed until he had a headache. He laughed until he had no idea what he was laughing about but couldn't find it in himself to care.
His father peeked in after a while to find out the source of the maniacal laughing he heard. To his surprise, his son was curled up into some sort of fetal position on his bed, chuckling like he'd been told the funniest joke in the universe. Smiling, he walked over and poked the kid in his ribs.
"The fuck's so funny, boy?"
Gamzee shook his head, unable to form words. His hand unwrapped from his midsection and flailed around wildly until his father grabbed it in his hand.
"I… ha ha ha… I'm so motherfu-fuckin'… ha ha… happy, dad…" His sentence faded off into more laughter, and his father couldn't help but chuckle along.
"Hey, kid, do me a favor?"
"Y-yeah?"
"Don't call me dad. Call me your 'old goat' or something."
Gamzee opened an eye and looked at his father with as much of a puzzled look as he could manage through his grin. "Why?"
He shrugged. "It's a nickname. More like a pet name, to be honest. Ain't had no one but family call me that."
His son nodded with understanding. "I got ya. Heh heh. That's a motherfuckin' funny thing to be called."
"Guess it is."
Gamzee seemed to gain some control over himself and sat up, though he left his hand remain around his waist. He saw the huge flat screen mounted on the wall across from him and widened his eyes.
"How fuckin' rich are you?"
"I get paid well. And I get gifts."
"Where do you work, then? 'Cause I'm totally goin' for your job when I'm older."
He grinned. "It's a secret. Anyways…" He brought his other hand out from behind his back, which Gamzee hadn't noticed until just then, and revealed a shiny, top-of-the-line laptop.
"Speaking of favors, this is one from my boss as a sort of congratulations, I guess."
Gamzee took it in amazed, shaking hands. "Congrats for what?"
"I don't fucking know, nor do I even care. Her handwriting's too damn loopy to decipher." He turned around and headed out. "I'll leave you alone for a bit. I want you in something presentable by 11:30."
11:30? "Wait, old goat, why so motherfuckin' late?" The nickname felt strange on his tongue. He supposed he would get used to it.
"'Cause I said so. Bathroom's across the hall. Go wash up or some shit before you put anything on."
"Uh, I've got nothing else to wear?"
"Check the dresser and your closet. Stuff should fit."
Before Gamzee could say anything else, his father had left. Seeing nothing else to do, he decided to try out his wicked new laptop. After twenty minutes of charging, setting up, and downloading, Gamzee sat on his bed with legs crossed and eyes staring at the newly installed chat client, a weird thing called Trollian, on his screen. The laptop's clock told him it was 10:13, earlier than he had expected, but too little time for what he wanted to say to his best friend.
Speaking of best friend, a brown circle popped to life on his screen. Gamzee gave an excited hum and clicked on it, opening the chat window and beginning a new conversation. Finger poised over the shift key, he began typing out his message.
terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling adiosToreador [AT]
TC: TaVbRo!
TC: TaVbRo, YoU'rE nOt GoNnA eVeN bElIeVe WhErE i'M aT rIgHt NoW!
TC: I'm So In ThE sHiT's NiNjA tItS rIgHt NoW. lIkE SeRiOuSlY, tHiS pLaCe Is BiTcHiN.
TC: It'S bItChIn So HaRd, I'm GoNnA hAvE tO mOtHeRfUcKiN tElL iT tO lEaVe, CaUsE tHeRe'S lItTlE cHiLdReN aLl GeTtIn ThEiR iNnOcEnT pLaY oN nEaRbY.
TC: BuT wE cAn GeT oUr MoThErFuCkIn ChIlL oN lAtEr, CaUsE sHe'S fUcKiN wIcKeD, mAn.
TC: !
TC: TaV?
TC: YoU tHeRe BrO?
AT: uH,,, YEAH, i AM,
AT: i WAS JUST, WAITING FOR THIS, TO LOAD
TC: ThAt'S aLl ChIlL mAn!
AT: oKAY,
AT: i'M REALLY, HAPPY ABOUT THIS, UH, i MEAN, i'M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU,
AT: bUT IF YOU'LL, UH, NOT MIND MY IGNORANCE,
AT: wHAT ARE YOU CELEBRATING?
TC: AwW, mAn. OnLy ThE mOsT bItChTiTs WiCkEd ThInG eVeR!
TC: ChEcK iT oUt MaN.
TC: My MoM's DeAd. ShE kIcKeD tHe ShIt BuCkEt CaUsE sHe WaS a MoThErFuCkIn BiTcH aNd KiNdA aLl DeSeRvEd It.
TC: BuT tHeN, mY lOnG lOsT fAtHeR fIgUrE aLl MoThErFuCkIn CoMeS oUt Of NoWhErE lIkE sOmE mIrThFuL jOkEr JuSt LeFt HiM aT mY SoRrY aSs DoOrStEp.
TC: AnD tHeN hE's AlL lIkE, cOmE tO mY pLaCe, So I mOtHeRfUcKiN gO wItH hIm.
TC: AnD tAv, If HiS pLaCe AiN't ThE bEsT mOtHeRfUcKeR eVeR, eVeRyOnE eLsE wHo SaYs OtHeRwIsE iS fUcKiN lYiN aNd SpOuTiN hErEsIeS lIKe A mOtHeRfUcKiN fOuNtAiN.
TC: ToTaLlY sErIoUs RiGhT nOw!
AT: oH, MAN, tHAT SOUNDS REALLY, EXCITING,
AT: bUT i'VE GOT, A QUESTION, UH, iF YOU DON'T MIND,
TC: ShOoT, mY wIcKeD bRoThEr!
AT: wILL WE STILL GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL?
AT: oR DO YOU, HAVE TO CHANGE?
AT: bECAUSE YOU'RE IN A DIFFERENT PLACE, AND i DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS, SO i'M JUST WONDERING,
That gave Gamzee pause. Would he?
TC: I cAn'T sAy FoR sUrE. wE'rE pReTtY fAr AwAy FrOm ScHoOl ThOuGh.
AT: }:(
TC: Do:
TC: WhAt Am I gOnNa Do, BrO?
AT: i DON'T REALLY,,, UH,,, KNOW,,,
AT: bUT, IF YOU TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE, THEN i COULD PROBABLY TELL YOU, WHERE YOU'RE GOING TO, UH, GO,
TC: I'm ChIlLiN sOmEwHeRe ReAlLy ClOsE tO tHe CiTy, I tHiNk.
TC: EvEn ThOuGh I'm NoT rEaLlY cHiLlIn AnYmOrE, tHoUgH. :o(
TC: HoNk.
AT: oH, WELL, tHERE'S SOME, GOOD NEWS COMING OUT OF THIS, i GUESS,
AT: i KNOW QUITE A FEW PEOPLE, WHO LIVE NEAR THE CITY,
AT: yOU'RE PROBABLY GOING, TO THE SAME SCHOOL AS THEM,
AT: mAYBE,,,
TC: BuT…
TC: I wOn'T eVeR sEe YoU aGaIn!
AT: wE COULD STILL, UH, HANG OUT, gAMZEE,
AT: oR MAYBE, YOUR DAD WILL LET YOU FINISH SCHOOL, HERE,
AT: aND BY HERE, i MEAN YOUR OLD SCHOOL,
AT: oR MAYBE STILL YOUR, UH,,, CURRENT SCHOOL?
AT: uH,,,
TC: DoN't WoRrY, mAn.
TC: I aLl GoT yOu MoThErFuCkIn CrYsTaL cLeAr.
TC: I cOuLd AsK, bUt I dOn'T bE tHiNkIn ThE oLd GoAt WaNtS tO dRiVe Me ThErE.
TC: BuT mAyBe He DoEsN't WaNt To SiGn A bUnCh Of ApPlIcAtIoN sHiT, eIthEr?
TC: WhO kNoWsSsSs.
AT: yEAH,
AT: bUT THE GOOD THING, IS THAT TOMORROW IS sATURDAY,
AT: sO WE COULD PROBABLY, HANG OUT?
TC: YeAh, SoUnDs GoOd, Man.
AT: oKAY,
AT: hEY, gAMZEE?
TC: YeAh MaN?
AT: wHAT'S YOUR DAD LIKE?
Gamzee grinned as he typed his response. His pinky was beginning to get a little sore, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.
TC: DoGg, He'S a ToTaL bAdAsS.
TC: He'S aWeSoMe, AnD cRaZy RiCh, ToO!
TC: AnD hE lOoKs LiKe An OlDeR vErSiOn Of Me, WhIcH iS kInDa WeIrD, bUt It'S aLl MoThErFuCkIn ChIlL cAuSe He'S a BoSs.
AT: oH, THAT'S GOOD,
AT: hOPEFULLY THINGS WORK OUT BETTER, WITH HIM,
AT: bETTER, UH, THAN HOW THINGS WERE, WITH, UH,,, YOU KNOW,,,
TC: My MoM?
TC: It'S cOoL, mAn.
TC: I dOn'T rEgReT aNyThInG!
TC: CaUsE iF i DiD, tHeN sHe WoUlD hAvE wOn.
TC: AnD tHaT wOuLdN't Be As FuNnY. :oC
AT: uH,,,,,,,,
Gamzee looked at the clock again. 11:15? When did it become so late?
TC: ShIt!
AT: wHAT IS IT?
TC: I'vE gOtTa RoLl OuT, tAvBrO.
TC: ThIs ClOwN's GoTtA dO wHaT hE nEeDs To Or ElSe He'Ll FaCe ThE wRaTh Of…
TC: MoThErFuCk, I'vE gOtTa CoMe Up WiTh A cOoL nAmE fOr ThE oLd GoAt.
AT: ,,,,,,,
TC: AnYwAyS,
TC: LaTeR, bRo!
AT: uH, BYE, gAMZEE,
TC: :o)
AT: }:o)
TC: HaHaHa, I lOvE iT wHeN yOu TaKe My NoSe, BrO ;oP
terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling adiosToreador [AT]
AT: ,,,
AT: aND i LOVE IT,
AT: wHEN YOU, UH,
AT: sAY YOU LOVE SOMETHING, ABOUT ME,
AT: fUCK, tHAT SOUNDED, REALLY, UH, CHEESY,
AT: sORRY,
AT: i'M JUST GONNA, GO NOW,,,
adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]
A/N: GAMZEE. HOW DO YOU FUNCTION WITH THAT QUIRK OF YOURS?
On the other hand, Gamzee/Tavros scenes are so much fun to write~ Implied PBJ? Who knows. Also, sorry for my long absence! Just a whole lotta school to put behind me, but it's almost over, so I'll have a whole lot more time to write! Yayyyyyy~