living room

he almost drops his phone when it starts vibrating wildly, but he picks up his marbles and picks up the phone. he sits back down for good measure, and wonders how he's going to put this.

"aw, vi, not even a hello? good morning? nice afternoon?" his voice lacks the usual spirit, and he hopes she picks up on this. "where are you right now? sounds noisy. l... listen right, could you just... come over? preferably with food? actually please get me some food?" he finds himself laughing nervously. "i've no money, and well... break in." he sighs. "just come, ok?"

@violetta

he trudges over to the door to answer it, and leaves it wide open. he's a picture of hunger, but remains good enough not to usher vi in too eagerly and closes the door behind her when she's inside.

the room feels empty. even for nathan who made it so. he'd pushed his sofa aside, and blankets line the wooden floor in preparation of their importu picnic. (as nathan imagined it would be in his head.) he is caught with a sudden lapse.

what does he say? do? vi is not a frequent visitor. the only reason why she even knows where he lives is because she's usually the only one willing to drop him off there at five am when none of his calls to other people even go through.

he scratches the back of his neck and gestures to his blanketed floor. all he manages is, "it's the best i could do." almost unapologetically (because he's not good at sounding sincere) and plants himself there, crossing his legs and yawning.

@violetta mystery of 'why are my posts getting progressively worse'

nathan's momentarily distracted by the food, openly staring. he goes for the rice first, tearing it open and starts doing the same for the others, lavishing them onto his rice.

"dunno. i wake up, my apartment's a mess." he says, digging in. he talks in between mouthfuls because he does feel he owes vi an explanation. it's the only thing stopping him from devouring everything in one go.

"now 'm gonna be in shit with the label," nathan sighs, plastic fork stabbing a salmon cake. "they're already poor as fuck. whoever robbed me is gonna come back." nathan can see it now; he won't be the least surprised if he's literally dropped overnight because of his 'bad contacts' or whatever. he'll admit it, he's worried. and it shows, because he stops. for a second.

"i'm in shit aren't i? i'm in shit." he murmurs to himself, running his hand through his hair.

@violetta

it's not long until packaged food become empty containers, and nathan only stacks them into a makeshift mountain to busy his hands.

he cracks his knuckles because he's easy to predict, if you know the signs. the nervous laughter is just a prelude.

"well, yeah," he says, almost breathlessly. "some ex's brother is out lookin' for revenge–" he trails off, panics. "though it's not my fault, i swear to god!"

@violetta