Robots Don't Know Angels
disclaimer: don't own show
AN: enjoy summer vacay!
Chapter III : Natural Ice
"Come on Elliot. I know what will cheer you up..." I shake my head, knowing where this is going. And knowing that once again I just can't say no to people. "Another house party!" I groan. He is just going to drag me along whether I want to or not. Cesar per usual continues to talk over my mumblings of protests that we shouldn't be sneaking out of the facility again. We were pretty close to getting caught last time. "Alright Elliot, right after curfew. You know where to meet us and oh change out of that spaghetti shirt will you? You won't get laid in that, trust me." I roll my eyes in mock despair.
"Oh really? I heard redheads really dig the marinara." I say sarcastically, salty about him ignoring me. Cesar takes it a step further and tries to slap my back again knowing how much I hate human contact. Fucking douche. I think angrily, dodging just in time, knowing just how far he'll go to push my buttons just to get his way. Cesar feigns that his feelings are hurt. "What, don't want to cuddle with me?" He tries again. "Don't fucking touch." I threaten him. Knowing I'm losing this one, I know he won't stop unless I agree to come with them to the party. "I'm not going to stop until you agree to meet us." Cesar taunts, taking another lunge at me that I barely avoid. After several minutes of this aggravatingly annoying tag game I finally acquiesce to his annoying demands. "I guess I'm feeling festive." I shrug, my tone bitter. Cesar smiles, gloating at his victory. This won't be the end of this. I think bitterly, vowing to somehow get him back for this. Yes, I know I am a sore loser.
Later that night
I'll have you know that I didn't change my shirt just to piss Cesar off even more. As soon as I enter the shoddy apartment that I know it is going to be just another shitty social thing I hate to partake in. I didn't care for dating especially when all it meant these days was fucking randoms. If I had wanted that I would have just gone on Tinder. Cesar notices my stained shirt, but doesn't react at all much to my annoyance. I put so much work into my crappy appearance. I didn't even bother to wipe the bits of hardened, clumped noodles off. I try to act like I'm not annoyed that I didn't get the response I was looking for. I continue to saunter toward him, nonchalent that I didn't give one damn that I stank like rotten mozz. I finally reach him and Cesar smirks much to my chagrin. "I knew you would pull something shitty like this. So I brought you a present." Cesar reaches down to unwrap a package, that's revealed to be 12 pack of Natural Ice. Shoddy beer for a shoddy party. Go figure. The wrapping around the beer turned out to be a tee shirt. I frown realizing that he beat me at my own game. I yank it from his hands and change into it angrily.
I find myself drawn to the back of the living room. Where the least amount of obnoxious drunks/ mass orgies are. I sit on the hardest, most uncomfortable chair to repel others from approaching me and pull out my copy of "the satanic bible." By "bible", I mean a comic book with a "satanic bible" cover taped over it to make it look like I'm some evil weirdo. That way people will stay the fuck away and therefore Cesar won't get what he wants. And I get my revenge. And it works everyone steers clear of me until some random goth bimbo approaches me.
She flicks her black and blonde fringe out of her eyes. Ugh. She is one of those girls with the straight, bleached to death scene cut. Her hair looks like hay straw, so stiff and dead. "Hey." She says to the air, sitting alongside me. She is wearing some kind of Tripp suspendery harness shit on her chest, black skirt with douchey Dr Marten boots. I don't respond. She continues to talk between smacks of the cheap cinnamon gum she is chewing. "Do as thou wilt, huh? I worship satan too." She goes on to explain exactly why she had fallen so low. She takes out a cigarette, about to light it. Only then do I speak, still not looking at her.
"Can I bum a ci-?" I think she takes this as some form of interest on my part because she shoves it in my mouth before I can even finish my question. Whatever, I'll just let it be. Weird bitch. She lights it for me. I take a long drag. Damn, it's been awhile. Even if these are shitty menthols. I grimace thinking how cinnamon and mint just don't mix. What a horrible combo. I can taste her phenylalanine Wrigleys.
"Aren't you going to ask my name?" She asks, irritation in her voice. I continue to smoke, my eyes scanning the room. I find Cesar being drunk. Messy brown hair in his eyes, stupid smirk on his face. He sees me talking to a chick. He thinks that this is working. I'm finally going to get laid. And I am. Just not with pussy, but drugs.
I turn back to the girl. "What's your name?" Her spooky face lights up. "Gina." I wonder why she shaved her eyebrows off just to draw them back on again. I don't care though. I look her dead in the cheap red eye contacts she's wearing. "Do you drop acid or not?" She smiles and nods. There goes the rest of my night once again.
We're stumbling out of the closet after dropping acid. Her excited about the blue butterflies melting into the ceiling or something. I'm just cruising. I get up to walk over to the bed and four of me is getting up with me, along me and on top of me. I'm tripping balls. So hard that I didn't realize I knocked over the bedside lamp until I'm already crouching down to pick it up and she's laughing above me. "I thought you told me you dropped acid before." She's still laughing. I don't have any interest explaining to her that drugs are hard to come by in a mental facility for troubled teens. Especially, when I'm already on bottled sunshine and zannies for my depression and anxiety. I climb onto the bed in an attempt to reintegrate all four of my past lives into my current self. I've barely come to terms with my second past life as Emperor Caligula before Goth Bimbo throws herself onto me for a sloppy kiss. "Ugh no." I wipe the black sludge of her lipstick from my lips and push her off of me.
"What? I though you wanted to fuck." She blurts out. Just because I'm in a room that happens to have a bed, doesn't mean I'm trying to bone you. I don't bother with my actual thoughts and instead turn her down the political way.
"Listen Georgia..."
"It's Gina." She interrupts.
"Sorry Jenna. I'm gay."
"Well, I'm bisexual so..."
"I've already had the surgery and I'll never go back. I'm impotent, anti-life and and a republican. Oh and I'm racist."
"But we've gotten this far!"
If I can recall properly, all I did was regrettably drop acid with this bimbo and sat down on a bed. She then proceeded to force herself onto me.
"I can withdraw consent at any time."
"Ugh! Toxic masculinity!" She cried out, slapping me hard across the face. She stumbled out of the room hollering to the world that I raped her. I was then promptly kicked out along with a very pissed of Cesar accompanying me home.