You don't know how good you have it until you don't have those luxuries anymore. That's what everyone told me, anyways. But I guess I didn't get it for a while.
During those days, I felt pretty normal (if melancholy). Cuttlefish and Keri were on their 'trip', as I was told by ol' Cap. Callie and Marie were still doing their news gig, and I never felt the need to message Marie again. Pearl and Marina were supporters of the underground cause for what happened with Keri, back when that was only a year ago, but that was kinda it. Again, talking about when all of the Darby-shenanigans were happening.
I woke up early, sometimes early enough to catch the rising sun. Everything around me in my living space was in some sense, falling apart. I didn't even bother taking care of my gear, if it be for Turf Wars or for music. For me, it was fine. I had myself to take care of, and since I was the only one there, I knew everything. It never mattered that my clothes were on the rugged floor, I knew where they were every morning. I could care less about the junk piling up in the kitchen area, it was my mess, I'd take care of it at my leisure. And financially? I was fine. I was always fine financially.
It was the third day for me. Keri left my place two days before they planned to enter the Deepsea again. She seemed nervous about it, but that was my eavesdropper personality kicking in. It didn't help that each day felt like its own personal gauntlet to push through, if it be emotionally or mentally speaking. In the span of a week, my ceiling's paint job had been ruined by the weather we'd been having, and I was having quite the damn time getting someone to work on it. Some of my personal equipment just felt like failing as well (back to back even), and contacting other people helped sometimes, and other times did fuck all.
I kept asking myself questions about what I could even do. I kept finding new problems with the shit I own, and I'm straight-up alone, so it's not like I got much else. Sure, I could watch other people online, since that's a thing people do. I could finally partake in the culture-wide sports-phenomenon, that could turn out to be something. Or, more likely, I could participate in the multiple esport-phenomenons that come and go just like I used to do. Either way, nothing really felt enticing. Over and over again, pacing my room, I just wondered when things could be normal again.
I mean, to be fair, my 'normal' kinda sucked. But it was something I knew. It was something I could adjust to, feel accustomed to. There was a silly part of me that felt, 'peaceful' towards normal. Peaceful enough to immerse myself in thought. But even when it was all fine, I would find something to complain about. And I'd do it pretty much all the time. I mean, I was the one running the gig. Me and Keri weren't exactly the closest gals around, but we'd talk, you know? And I'd be doing my own thing. Sometimes she'd listen to music with me, other times she'd go out and play Turf and I'd be alone, like I am now. But I knew she was gonna come back that night, unless she said otherwise, which happened an astonishing total of twice. It wasn't that my brain felt like Keri wasn't gonna come back, it's that my brain figured that it was finally plausible, now that they're in the Metro. And, that scared me. Honestly, the whole damn thing scared me. And I don't know how, and I still don't really know why. But it did.
I was scared. Everything around me seemed that much more daunting. And that was pretty normal, if melancholy.
Picking up my phone past-noon, I sat down in my living space expecting a roofer to come by or something along those lines. Maybe I got one of those fancy notifications that one of my friends was doing better than me, and I'd have a day or two to see that post before it totally vanished. There was absolutely nothing in my mind that could've suggested to me that Claire, Cuttlefish's prodigy, wanted anything to do with me ever again.
And it was, obviously, that exact moment that Claire texted me (why else would I even mention it). And I went back to not knowing how to feel. Especially because, her text said;
"you're home".
Alright, cool. Not only was I not ready to hear from her, I'd probably be seeing her in five minutes. Or maybe five hours? Maybe five seconds? She didn't make herself clear, in that Claire fashion. But who am I to judge? The spontaneity of life is something I live for, right?
However long it would've been, I couldn't help but stress. I had no idea what type of surprise was in store, but all I really needed to know is that it was something unprecedented. Claire. Here. Again. It felt leagues too long. In all honesty, it could've been two weeks for all I cared. It was forever to me.
Except, well, it obviously wasn't just two weeks. It was now. And I had to respond to this message of hers. Now.
So I texted back something simple. "yea."
Three loud knocks at my door. I didn't even have time to question it, I got out of my seat and pushed towards the longest walk in my own home. Knowing Claire, I guess she decides when it's time, not you.
Swinging open said door, it was exactly who I thought it was. The one and only Agent 3. Cool.
"Can I come in?" She asked me, as if nothing occurred beforehand.
"No." I said, as if something occurred beforehand. Awkward silence broke between us, as neither of us really knew what to do with ourselves at that very moment. I didn't want her to see the way I was living. Maybe if something happened later I'd be okay with it, but not right then and there.
"You look like a wreck." Claire coldly stated. "You hungry?" she asked.
"That works out." I muttered, under my breath. Closing the door to my residence, I was glad. Glad because it could've gone so much worse.
Oh, and for context, I most definitely looked awful.
We walked towards the train station in complete silence. It wasn't a long walk, only a few minutes really, but like the walk to my own door, this was practically an eternity. Even more so now, as every second I counted, I was 'spending' with Claire. I didn't want to look into her eyes, so I took the lead and guided her back to where she (presumably) came from; the platform I live by. Managing my own line of sight, while also trying to not mutter a word, was painfully difficult for yours truly. I'm not exactly the quiet type, generally speaking, so Claire's appearance frustrated me.
Yet, what frustrated me the most wasn't that it was happening at all, it was that her timing was the most reasonable it could've ever been. Obviously she'd come to see how I was when most of the Squidbeak Splatoon was out and about. I could've lied, but why would I want to do that? Everybody else was gone truthfully, so I'd be an outlier anyways. In easier words, I'd lose either way.
Considering how I felt, how I looked (and a couple of other factors I'd rather not get into publicly), this wasn't the optimal reunion I was looking for. In her own words, a wreck. In my own thoughts, the end of my world. With us walking onto the train platform, hearing Claire's footsteps behind me, all I could really do was wait. Two minutes never killed anybody, right?
Well, it gave me enough time to look at Claire in her newest form. Deep-blue, fluffy jacket. Typical. Long tentacles, with the hair-style old enough you might as well call it hippie. Guess the term 'cut' never really fit her as much as it does most. Those light blue eyes matched her tentacles that day, but she likes to play around with schemes. Navy tee under it all, with long-slick black sweatpants. The skater-style shoes, and grey socks to top it all off. Cool. Absolutely nothing compared to whatever I had, I think I had three things visually going on maximum. Helps she's a bit taller than me too, but who isn't?
I guess it all works out though, since once we got to the platform that day it was exceptionally noisy. The industrial air units they had were furiously whirling, I wouldn't have been able to hear Claire even if I wanted to. It was a bright summer day out in Inkopolis, I'm sure the whole city was basking in the yellow sun and its joyous properties. But me? Frowning in noise, under a platform. How unfortunate.
As the train arrived, Claire nudged me on the shoulder and tilted her neck at me. "Four-hundred, that's the figure. Got it?"- She exclaimed, with that little snap in her. Considering how loud the train stopping was, I'm surprised that got through at all. I nodded, shuffling all the cards I had in my pocket. To this day, I wonder if she told me that for the sake of me or her.
Arriving on the platform, I told the ticket inspector I was headed with Claire, who (unsurprisingly) paid in exact change. The inspector looked at me a bit funny, but knowing the area I still live in versus how garbage I looked... yep. A bit of awkward back-and-forth later, I had the four-hundred charged to one of my cards, and that was that. I stood next to Claire, who made the decision to stand up for the train ride (I usually like relaxing on these types of rides, so this was new for me back then), and I too made a decision. "Where are we even headed?" I asked. "Four-hundred isn't insane, but it's not the cheapest either."
With the train finally budging, she had the nerve to look at me funny. Giving her iconic smirk, she told me smoothly. "We're headed somewhere we won't be bothered. Could use it, you and I." Feeling every nook and cranny of the ride, I felt inclined to simply be 'content' with it. I typically enjoyed the vibrations of the train, but being on my own supports meant it was a bit less relaxing. We weren't even five minutes in, but at that point I already wanted it to be over. I, unironically, love trains! Making me hate the ride is quite the accomplishment.
"Are you going to be any less cryptic wherever we arrive, Claire?" I questioned, admittedly aggressively.
"What? You don't enjoy theatrics?" She responded, in bold spirits.
Well, subconsciously groaning in boredom and desperation, I had to respond to her own interpretation of my sentence. What a time to be alive. "Wha-, no, not really. Not right now at least, so how-"
"Three stops."
And there I was, rolling my eyes after being cut-off. I at least knew it wouldn't be long before I could simply leave if I had enough of her bullshit, but at that moment it felt like an endless tunnel. Once she had told me the length of our ride, I patiently counted the three stops, standing close to the automatic doors. Waving at people leaving, I felt more positivity coming from the strangers than my once-understood friend. If anything, the sun felt more like a character I understood than the sentence-stopper Claire I was somehow riding with.
Ain't that somethin', huh?
To be clear, I zoned out for so much of it. Getting off the train was simple enough, but she took point this time. The details weren't important to me, so I kept walking without thinking. Walking in, it felt as if she'd put me somewhere she'd been before. It turned out to be a bar, out of all places. So, you know, on top of all my disadvantages, she had a buff or two as well. Great.
That's about all I remember from that walk. I wasn't even consciously there, to be completely honest with you. It felt like one of those old games, nothing but stupidly thick fog in-front of the camera. I could care less about what or where she was taking me, I wanted to be there and I wanted to talk. I'm angry. Frustrated. Confused. Smelled like shit too. The works. I wanted answers, and this gap in time was simply too long. I could tell it was a bar from the smell, 'cause I wasn't the only thing that was rancid. There, that's something they don't have in video games.
Claire fetched a place to sit down, so I followed her. "Can't even have an ounce of fun, can you? Have a drink, I insist."
Sitting down to her right at the table, I finally was starting to see. Things were making sense, and I felt like I belonged somewhere again.
"Claire, what the fuck?" I said, as calmly as I could in that moment.
She looked at me, then spoke to the bar-tender. "Jerry, get me two shots, what I typically start with." I didn't catch whoever Jerry was, but I'm pretty sure they saw me and then shrugged the request off.
"What is it, Cherri-"
"What the fuck is happening!?" I told her, with a lot of the frustration starting to come out rather quickly.
She gazed around for a bit, eyeing the rest of the moody-lit room, hand-signaling for our drinks. It took about a minute, nothing much, but Jerry was getting around to it. I just watched, really. My emotions come out much stronger when I'm speaking, so this brief wait was me trying not to break down and say something stupid.
Once they'd come back with our order, Claire took a swing of her shot. Loving her theatrics, she passed mine over, and then looked me in the eyes. "You and I, we the only nobody's here right now. You see that?" She said, in her casually-dramatic way.
I sighed, knowing what she meant all too well. "Yeah. Yeah, I get that." Somberly, I was trying my best not to freak out. Already, the sheer weight of it was collapsing onto me. A few sentences in, and I'm already peering back into empty space.
The sun wasn't down yet, but the staff tried their collective best to engulf the venue, blocking all natural light possible. With all of the fake, colourful, dim shading surrounding me, and all of that distant music, my sense of time and place was completely lost. It felt as if the room was meant for dissociation of some kind, as if I wasn't already lop-sided when I entered.
Claire peered closer into my expression, as she understood that I was quite communicative with body language. She squinted, her face to the left of my vision, and spoke quietly. "You're not her anymore, are you?" I could practically feel her verbal pliers from here.
Thinking of her light-blue eyes, I couldn't take it anymore. I was tired. I was angry. I was frustrated. I was confused. I was feeling so many damn things at this very moment. But most importantly, I was just sad. So I pushed her back in anger.
"Can you fuck off and just be honest with me?! It's been nine months and you wanna play the fucking silver screen right now?!" I cried, passionately moving to face her entire being. "I didn't even want a fuckin' drink, but you just-", I… couldn't even get through the sentence without having to fetch the words out of my chest, but she started to stare at me. I kept going. "you insist, you fuckin' insist I…". Her mouth open, eyes widened, stance removed from what I'd seen all day. Between my tears, and the closed-off setting, it was exceptionally hard to see her, but somewhere in my mind I remembered Claire. That was her.
"Cherri, you know this ain't my ideal get-together, and it's not yours either." Claire tried to calm me down, and further explain with all of her mighty reasoning and phenomenal timing. I was so out of it all, I wasn't listening to any of it. It just became background noise, chitter-chatter of the larger issue.
Voice shaking, I cut into wherever she was in her statement and took off. "I gave you what you wanted. For nine months, I didn't talk to you. And now we're here, me and you, where you wanted to be." Before going back into thought, I took a hit from my own glass, not even thinking of whatever exotic taste she'd prepped for me. "Claire, talk to me."
As the smooth liquor brought my mouth into a new locale, I realized I messed up.
Suddenly, she had her own moody look. I could tell immediately I had pressed a button just like she did with me. I should've known sooner that this was just as hard on her, with the way she stared at me, but I was so caught up in my own emotions I wasn't thinking about hers until right then and there. She then looked back at the table, and barely got the word out.
"Cherri, he's done."
Still feeling all of my emotions, I just spoke my mind. "Wh- what!? Who?"
Taking the last hit from her shot, she waited a few seconds to answer. And I could've never guessed what she'd say to me then.
"I'm Captain now." Bringing the glass down, and her vision with it, Claire dug her face into the table in-front of her.
Every part of my body gawked at the idea. I could not believe it. Everything told me not to. And just when I fancied the thought that she was bluffing, we linked eyes once again. That, fixture on her face- I don't even know how to describe it. It felt like someone I knew aged fifteen years before my eyes. She wasn't kidding.
The amount of thoughts that hit my head at once, I couldn't compose myself even if I tried. 'What did I even want from this?'. I was a wreck to her coming in, I was a wreck to myself now, it was a total nightmare. I kept getting deeper and deeper into my own thoughts, frustrated crying turned into sobbing, the next few hours steam-rolled into each-other, I just couldn't contain myself. I'm struggling to even communicate this to you, and that's for a slew of reasons. But, to give myself some credit, I still have trouble communicating these emotions to myself, so bringing this to you is, well. Yeah.
I guess she'd been gone the whole time.
