{Another day goes by, I think it feels just like yesterday

[ghostphone]

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[ouiking_ouija]

"Yeah, shit yeah, I mean, doppelgangers are a thing, obviously, but not something usually featured into anti-bullying campaigns." He flapped that freshly-bandaided hand before picking up his coffee once more, stuffing another doughnut hole in his mouth and offering the bag back over as he added: "Shit, I don't even believe it sometimes. Figure maybe this is all just my brain firing off while I'm asphyxiating in the back of an ambulance or somewhere. Having a heart attack on somebody's floor or something, who even knows."

[ghostphone]

He falls a little quiet at that remark and for a moment just focuses on smoking his joint. He's still not used to how... freely and easily the older versions of him talk about dying and overdosing like it's just some natural part of his life now. He isn't sure he wants that to be so normal. For defying death to become another high he's in a never-ending chase with.

[ouiking_ouija]

He sighed at that silence, scrubbing a hand up over his face and through his hair with a muttered: "Sorry."

He sat back then, unexpectedly more somber than he had been moments before, "I mean... at least now you know how badly the rest of us fucked up, and when you get back, if you want to get back, however the hell that's even going to work..." Realizing he was dangerously close to sidetracking himself he shook his head, flicking his hand before settling again, "I'm just saying, you can do better. If you even want to."

[ghostphone]

He shrugs at the apology, a silent, off-hand 'whatever', even though he can't quite bring himself to form the word with his mouth.

"It's just... scary, y'know? You... you guys act like- like dying is just... almost like it's a game or something, I mean..." He stares down at the burning bud paper between his fingers. "Maybe that's not the right word, but... it just seems like it doesn't matter to any of you. When did it stop?"

[ouiking_ouija]

He managed to stop himself from saying 'when everyone else stopped giving a fuck about me' because he now knew that not all of them had, at least not completely, though it had certainly seemed like it for a good long while.

"It still matters, it's just that..." His brow furrowed, thumping his bandaged thumb against his coffee cup, trying to think, he'd never had to justify this before, not even to himself, and he didn't have the right words to so now that he had to, "I don't fuckin' know." He finally concluded, shaking his head and reaching over, flicking his fingers, "Gimme."

end?

[ghostphone]

Despite the otherwise heavy and serious edge around the conversation, he can't help the smirk and the way he mumbles a quiet, "Win!" as he leans over to hand the joint to his older self. He's content to just let that heavy line of conversation and finish the joint with his doppelganger before he wanders off to find something else to keep his attention for awhile.