The Same Goddamn Chapter From Dave's Perspective

You are now Dave Strider and you are running through the airport, trying to make your flight. Making a habit of being fashionably late was coming back to bite you in the ass. You rush up to the gate and shove your boarding pass and passport at the attendant. She glances up at you. "Sir, can you remove the glasses?" You lift them quickly, wishing you didn't have to, and she nods at you, handing you back your passport. You let the shades fall back down and you rush by her. You board the plane, glancing at your boarding pass for your seat number. You were in first class. Bro had pissed you off a couple months ago, so you stole one of his bazillion credit cards and bought a 1st class plane ticket to the first place you could think of. You've been travelling around ever since. Your Bro probably hadn't even noticed you or the credit card missing. Too wrapped up in his fucking bullshit business. Puppet porn. What kinda business is that? You decided to go back home because you missed your mixing equipment. You had some on your laptop, and you DJ'ed at some clubs, but it just wasn't the same. You make it to your seat and sit down, bumping the guy next to you and stuffing your backpack under your seat as the flight attendant begins the safety demonstration. You glance at who's sitting next to you. The dude's out like a fucking light, snoring softly. His hair's a mess, his glasses are almost falling off his face and he's wearing what looks to be a Ghostbusters t-shirt. You push his glasses back up his nose before pulling out a pack of gum. Your ears are pretty sensitive on planes, which you discovered the first time you flew out of Texas. You were miserable the whole time. You found that chewing gum helps, and who are you to argue with gum? After the plane gets up in the air you pull out your laptop, putting it in airplane mode. You plug in your headphones and start fooling around with your latest mix. You've got some lyrics and your trying to fit some music to them. You accidently hit the guy next to you a fuck ton of times, but he doesn't wake up. Dude really is out. You finally give up trying to fix the music. You'll do it once you've got your real mixing equipment. It's missing something. You just don't know what. You pull up Portal, deciding to play it again. You've played it a million times, but it's really addicting.

An hour later, an attendant comes by with a cart and asks if you want anything. You ask for some apple juice. Something else you're addicted to. You turn to the guy beside you and tap him to ask if he wants anything. It takes a couple taps, but finally he jerks awake, turning to you. "You want somethin?" you ask, but he just blinks at you.

"Sorry, what?" His voice kinda raspy.

"Do you want a drink? Or something to eat?" You ask. He nods slightly, turning to the attendant.

"Uh, sure. I'll have a water." The attendant pours one and hands it to him as he pulls down his tray. He takes a sip and turns to you.

"Hey, uh, how long have I been asleep?" He asks, his voice smoother, though still slightly raspy.

"'Bout seven hours now. You were really out of it bro. Thought I'd have to slap you to wake you up or somethin'." You say, noticing that his eyes are really fucking blue. Blue as the fucking ocean. You shake yourself a little. That was the most clichéd thing you ever thought. No wait, not clichéd, ironic. There. Much better. He's laughing. He holds out a hand to you.

"I'm John Egbert. Sorry I've been asleep for like, half the trip. I had been awake for thirty-six hours and I really needed some sleep." He says, and you raise your eyebrow before reaching out to shake his hand.

"Dave Strider." He shakes your hand vigorously and your surprised by how strong his handshake is. "I don't usually fly first class, but my bro insisted on paying, so here I am." you blurt out, and as you're saying it you wonder why the fuck you would say that. It has absolutely no relevance. What the actual fuck.

"I travel a lot for work, so I have a ton of miles saved up." He says. "Hey, do you think you could grab my bag from the overhead compartment for me? I forgot to get some stuff from it when I sat down." You nod and unbuckle your seatbelt. You start to stand up, but the pilot comes over the speakers and says for everyone to stay seated, there's going to be some turbulence. You sit back down, and turn to Egbert.

"Sorry bro. It'll probably go away in a few minutes." you say, pulling out your headphones and your iPod. You slide the headphones over your ears and turn the music up. You close your eyes and try to get some rest, but you just can't fall asleep. A constant theme the past couple days. You sigh and pull your headphones off, lowering the volume so the whole plane doesn't hear your music, just in time to hear the pilot announce that they would have to land in Germany due to some storms and shit. You look over at Egbert and see him smacking his head against the headrest. "Dude, you okay?" you ask as he continues to smack his head against the headrest, probably destroying his fucking brain cells in the process. You think you read that somewhere.

"No, I'm not. I have a fucking concert that I'm already cutting it close to be at! I've already had two delays and now this! I HAVE to be there!" He continues hitting his head against the seat. You wonder if you should put a pillow or some shit behind his head.

"Dude, I'm sure it'll be fine. Were the tickets really expensive or some shit?" You ask and he shakes his head.

"It's not a concert I'm going to, it's a concert I'm PREFORMING at. And I need this money for repairs and the rent! Uggggggh." His voice is starting to sound raspy again.

"Dude, stop hitting your head. Your destroying your fucking brain cells." You say, grabbing his head to keep him from causing himself any damage.

"There. Now here, have some more water." You say, grabbing his cup and handing it to him. He drinks a bit and you ask if he's in a band.

"Something like that. I play piano." He says, afterward draining his cup. You begrudgingly hand him your apple juice. You'll just buy some more after you get to Germany. Egbert seems like he needs it more.

"Here, drink more. So piano, huh? Pretty sweet." Piano wasn't really your style, but you didn't hate it. There were worse instruments. Like saxophones. And piccolos. God, piccolos were so fucking annoying. Why do they exist? Flutes are just fine, but piccolos. Were. So. Fucking. High-pitched. John's voice interrupts your train of thought.

"It would be sweeter if it paid better, and if I didn't have a crappy piano to practice on. It makes it hard to hear how things sound on a real piano when you just have an old piano that's always out of tune. So I really need the warm-up time that I had already lost due to the cancellations and delays. And now I'm not even gonna make the concert at ALL!" Egbert's really freaking out now. He's half shouting and you can see some people turn their heads to see what's up.

"Hey, calm down. It's gonna be fine. Just call them and ask them to reschedule the concert." You say, putting a hand on his shoulder and immediately taking it back, not wanting to freak him out.

"I can't. There are people coming from all over just to see me and I'm not gonna be there, and they're all gonna want their money back and I'm not gonna have any money and I'm not gonna be able to make rent and I'm gonna be kicked out of my apartment and…" His breathing is getting shallow and quick.

"Egbert. You okay? Egbert. Dude, DUDE, are you okay? You're freakin out pretty fucking bad." You shake his shoulder a little, trying to get him to focus on you. You're pretty sure he's having a panic attack, but you don't know what to do about it.

"I need my backpack. Like, right now." You nod and stand up. Immediately an attendant walks over and tells you to sit down. You hold up a finger and reach up to the overhead compartment, opening it and grabbing the backpack. The attendant becomes more persistent and tries to push you into your seat. That's the last straw. You throw the backpack towards Egbert and turn to the attendant.

"Look, my friend is freaking out, and he told me to get his fucking backpack. So I got the backpack. Now I'm sitting back down. Calm down." You shove the backpack over to John and sit down. He pulls out a medicine bottle and swallows some, then shoves the backpack under the seat. "Yo Egbert, you okay?" You ask and he nods.

"Ya, I just… Never mind." You shrug and say okay. "Oh god, how am I gonna pay for a hotel room when we get to Germany?" You hear him whisper. You turn back to him.

"Hey. I'll pay for a hotel. I got some money." You don't mind spending as much of Bro's money as possible. In fact you enjoy it, probably more than you should, nut it doesn't matter. He's got fuck tons of money. Egbert shakes his head.

"No, I can't. I already owe enough money to people."

"No, I insist. I won't make you pay me back. Just get me and my friend Rose and her girlfriend into one of those sweet concerts of yours, and we'll be even." You know Rose's girlfriend will LOVE that and Rose will be pretty happy, too. Egbert just keeps shaking his head.

"It's not just me. It's also my sister. She's sitting somewhere else."

"No really, it's fine. Earlier, I said my bro insisted on paying? Well that was a bit of an exaggeration. I stole his credit card. But before you start going off on me, he was being a douche, and I do it all the time. He doesn't care or notice really. He has like 50 of 'em. I've taken some plenty of times. Never notices. He probably didn't even notice that I was gone. He's so absorbed in his stupid puppet business. He can't bother to pay attention to anything else. I swea-" John's voice cuts you off.

"Alright fine. Since you insist. And I'll see about getting you into one of my concerts. Though I wouldn't picture you as a classical music fan." You lean back, satisfied.

"Well, I'm not really. But my friend and her girlfriend are, and I might as well get SOMETHING out of the deal. Plus, I like you Egbert. You seem pretty chill."

"You seem pretty cool, too." He replys.

"Ya, I am." You respond.