Author's Notes

Please, please, please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me, like I know you're all going to want to do once you've read this chapter. I only ask that you please have faith in me, since I have never led you astray before, despite the strange places I have led you. This is a lot like the acid trip scene, which drew some parallels with Abnormally Attracted to Sin. I know I'm splashing around, and making a big huge mess, but really, would this be any fun if I didn't? Also, I'm sorry it's so short, but I like to think that it's exactly as long as it needs to be.

Warnings: fucked up!Emily, hetero nonsense, full circle themes, Hard Candy line, Tori imagery

Octahedron

Chapter Three: Halo of Nembutals (Part 3)

By Persephone's Nautical Nun

Banished to Fifth Dementia.
Cables of ringworms have hung themselves.
Of this I ate…
Communion change…

They sent in the necrophiliacs,
Carcinogen tartans that smolder in asp.
Of this I ate…
Communion change…

Read it from bottomless palindromes,
Hear my request to be disowned.
Of this I ate…
Communion change…

Serpents raise in prisms and rainbows escaped.

Deviate by all means in name,
Because we all crawl in quicksand the same.

The only sense of time here is the grey settling over the black of the windows. That and the pile of cigarette butts at your side. You've been lying here all night, and you really should move. Gonna hurt, though. All the grains of dust have settled into your skin, and moving will dislodge them. Only temporary, though.

There you go, remember what being upright feels light? Huh, interesting. Not only is your back covered in dust, but errant ash has speckled your front. Whatever. Just put on your shirt, and get home. Maybe a shower will make you feel more like yourself.

Ugh, I feel drugged. No reason the door should be that heavy. Strange thing is I think I might actually be sober? Must have forgotten what that feels like. But at least my legs head me toward home all by themselves. Walked this route so many times it's become mechanical. Seems quicker somehow, maybe because I'm not having to fight with a crowd of people. Meh. Whatever the reason…

Mmm, coffee. Coffee sounds amazing. Wait. How did Jazz know I'd need coffee? What time is it? Shouldn't you be asleep? "Where have you been? What happened to you?" What? Oh. That's right, I'm dirty. Shrug. I need coffee. And the big mug!

"Are you okay?" Wait a minute. Why am I getting the third degree? Aren't we all adults here? I don't ask her where she spends her time.

Deep drink from my coffee. This is exactly what I needed. Can feel some of the haze lift. Guess what I really need is a nap, but that won't be happening any time soon. Shrug at her question. "I'm fine." Furrow the brow, express confusion. "What's wrong with you?"

Wow. I've never seen anybody do righteous confusion like that outside of television. "I was worried about you." Okay, this is really what I don't need. Please don't do this, Jazz. I need you as you were, my friend that served as a safe haven from the world. You were the one thing I could keep for myself; know Naomi would never win you over. So I really don't want to have to lose you, too, but that's exactly what's going to happen if you continue on like this.

"Jazz, please don't. It wasn't anything more than what it was, so don't turn this into a big, awkward situation."

Also never seen feigned consideration done like that outside of television, either. "Emily Fitch, you are the most arrogant, egotistical lesbian I've ever met." Probably some of my finger qualities, actually, but I question where you get your information. Because, not really. "I thought you were being facetious last night, but you really think I've fallen for you, don't you?"

Already tired of this conversation. Or just tired in general. "Well, you are acting like a jealous girlfriend." This was the wrong thing to say. Knew that when you said it. Did it anyway. What's up with the self sabotage?

Damn, things are more off than I thought.

You never have to worry about Jazz when she's yelling. That's normal, she gets excited easily. It's when she pulls herself back and talks herself down that you have to worry. That's how you know she means business, and that's what she's doing now. "I'm actually genuinely worried about you, Emily. What happened at the party, with Naomi, it looked like it fucked you up. And then you disappear all night only to turn up looking like that." Great. Now I've hurt her. "But maybe I should just stop caring." See?

"Look, don't be like that. I'm sorry, okay? I guess I'm just going through some shit, but I'll be fine. I always am."

"You're not always fine. If you were always fine, we never would have met in the first place. So stop being a dick and trying to alienate one of your few friends."

"Look, I said I'm sorry, what else do you want?"

"Well, nothing, I guess." Tough bird, Jazz. You hurt her, and it never lasts long. "But if I was right, and you are all fucked up, will you please talk to me?"

Shrug. "It didn't matter, Jazz. She saw it coming."

Her questioning look is far too curious, and you know you're not going to be able to get away with half a story. So you tell her, because you're sleeping on her couch, and because she's your friend. Tell her about the diner. Tell her that Naomi's setting herself up here, and tell her about all the conflicted things that means for you. Tell her that running again has crossed your mind, except for the fact that there's virtually nowhere you can go. Naomi will just follow. And if once has tarnished your feelings for her this much, imagine what multiple times would do.

"Okay, I see what you mean. You really are going through some shit." Thank you. "But Emily, it's obvious that you still love her. Are the problems really big enough to keep you from being happy?"

"I think they really are." And believe me, I wish it were otherwise. But your question stirs something in me. Am I being too idealistic? Am I holding Naomi to a standard that's impossible to maintain? After all, wasn't she the catalyst for my move across the world? But that's why I loved her. She was better than me. Completely delusional, of course, but better, on some basic level. But as soon as she became aware of it, she became something else.

That's it. She needs to be alone. She needs time away from me so that she can remember who she is. I only serve as a distraction. Maybe after some time I can come back. That's our only hope, if she's serious. So I have to tell her for both of us. I have to tell her that we can't see each other again for the foreseeable future, that we each need time to sort everything out.

But before I do anything, I need a fucking shower.


What time is it? Early evening. Must have passed out after my shower. Was a good fucking shower. Let's see, there was something I was supposed to be doing, what was it? That's right; I was going to tell Naomi to stay away from me. Funny how that seemed so much more important a few hours ago. The magic of sleep, I suppose.

Start the night off right, and roll up a spliff. The first few drags have me feeling more like myself than I have in days, and I feel like I can handle anything. Now's a good a time as any. If she had a morning shift, then she should be home by now.

Still buoyed by my newfound and probably unfounded confidence and I'm standing outside your door. Andrew answers, and with a quick flash of teeth, he tells me that you had a double shift, and aren't back, yet. "She should be back soon, though, if you'd like to wait."

It's dim, and smells like stale tobacco, and reminds me faintly of a wolf's cave. Take note of the diagrams scattered across the coffee table and copy of Ender's Game. Hard to imagine Naomi here, really. Reeks of typical college boy residence. "Can I get you something to drink?" But at least his mother taught him manners.

"Water's fine." Gracious smile. Move to the couch and have a seat. Feign interest at the Opeth poster on the wall. Now, I really can't see Naomi here. Who is this guy? What does she really know about him? Fuck, give her more credit than that, Naomi's not stupid. And really, what do you know about Jazz?

"So what's your deal, Andrew?" Accept the glass of water. Notice the way his eyes shift downward in embarrassment at the interest. "Who are you, what's your story?" Slight dip of the head. Interesting.

That's right, take a seat next to me, rather than the chair across the room. He doesn't think anything of it, because he's loyal to Naomi, but I see it for what it is, and file it away. "Well, I'm an engineering major. I'm a junior. I'd love to be able to go to space one day…" Get it, now. They have completely different interests, but they have the same drive, the same motivation.

Which reminds me. "Was Naomi scheduled for a double today, or did they ask her to pick one up?"

Glance to his right. Recalling a fact. "She was already scheduled for one." Can tell he was jarred by my sudden change in topic, but he recovers well.

Fuck. Hello, conflict, we meet again. Are you stalking me? Can't get rid of the warmth that settles over me to hear about her unwavering work ethic. Except it's not exactly unwavering, is it? Because no one could survive a double shift waitressing on the amount of sleep she would have gotten if she stayed with me. Like that time she fell behind because she missed a few days because I distracted her. She knew it was a bad idea. I saw it, but she was willing to do it, anyway.

Take note again of his proximity, and you think it would probably only take a push in the right direction. "Why get involved, Andrew? None of this has anything to do with you."

He shrugs and is embarrassed again. People don't usually offer you much attention, do they? "I guess I just care." Okay, but why? "When Naomi and I got to talking, I really liked who I was talking to. I guess I just like to help the people I like."

"That's a sure way to lose yourself. Or a slow way to starve, depending on how you go about it."

Another shrug. "Maybe. I don't see it that way."

"And what way do you see it?" He looks away, off to the left. He's attracted to me, but feels guilty about it. More information for me to file away.

"I think I've learned enough, and that I'm stable enough to keep parts of me for myself." Not the point. You should keep all of you for yourself. But that'll just start and argument, and we can't have that. If this is the company that Naomi's been keeping, then I understand why she's been acting the way she has been. Doesn't mean I like it.

He's still talking, probably about his philosophical ideas, but I'm not listening. He's still talking, but I can't hear him. I'm thinking about the idea of sharing one's self, and its relation to Naomi. And then I'm just thinking about Naomi, and how she'll probably be tired when she gets home. I think about what I came here to do, and I feel something crawl into my brain. AJ. Why am I thinking about AJ?

Because his counterpart is sitting right next to me.

The thought comes quickly and settles in. Said I wasn't mad about what happened with AJ, and I'm not. Don't know how I feel about it, actually. Sometimes, the fact creeps into the back of my brain and eats at me. And it's gnawing the fuck out of me right now.

And it makes up my mind for me. It decides that Naomi should know how it feels to be betrayed on that many levels. Not only is there the fidelity issue, but the respect issue as well. She fucking knew that I wanted to have a life of my own and that I didn't want her in it, and the first thing she does is jump in with both feet. And AJ, the little prick. He knew what she meant to me, and he did it anyway. I understand he was just AJ being AJ, but it still makes my skin crawl.

But Andrew isn't AJ, and this isn't going to be as easy as that, and I don't have much time. Definitely a challenge, but let's not forget that my sister is Katie Fitch, and she taught me a thing or two about men a long time ago.

The hand on his knee makes him uncomfortable, but he doesn't move until I scoot closer to him. "What's wrong?" Keep your voice innocent, and watch him fight himself as you approach. Take your time, invade his personal space, and smirk as he physically stops himself from touching you. "You remind me of her, you know?"

"Um, thanks?" Obviously confused, because who could possibly draw a comparison between someone like him and someone like her. He backs away from you and goes back to the couch, having put some distance between it and you. Wrong move. Now it's just so easy. "But she'll be back soon, so just wait for her, okay?"

This is it. Better channel Katie, because there's no way I can do this by myself. Approach and bend forward, so that we're eye to eye. Nowhere to run, now. Touch him. Touch him right, and he's all yours. Trail a hand down his torso to graze the growing bulge at his crotch. Can see his eyes change, and that's it. Climb on top of him, and lose your mind. You've done this before, you can do it again. It'll be over in a few minutes.

Naomi's still not back when he's finished, but I have to get out of here. Was hoping she'd walk in on us so I wouldn't have to work out how to make sure she finds out, but I'll work it out.

Fight back a wave of nausea as you leave the apartment and step back into fresh air. Head is reeling as I come back to myself. What have I done? Why did I do it? It made sense at the time. Down the stairs, pick up the pace. Get away from here. Hit the ground running and brush past a tall blonde. Think I hear Naomi calling my name, but it just makes me run faster.

Run, run, run, all the way home. Tear your clothes off and throw them away. Turn the shower on all the way to hot, and let the water scald you. Grab the razor and shave. Everything. Fast, rough strokes. New skin. Joint. Or blunt. Or bong. Or all three all at the same time. Fuck. I was supposed to be at rehearsal half an hour ago. Jazz is going to kill me.