Lucas Lee • Take 32 • Video
[Lucas is floating. And scowling. And trying really hard to look menacing, but it's hard when you're twirling like a goddamn fairy princess.]
Todd? You know how I've always been jealous and shit of you being able to fly?
I take it all back. I'm like a fucking dead fish going belly up, over here.
Uh.
[He clears his throat.]So any kids who like ( Read more... )
Todd? You know how I've always been jealous and shit of you being able to fly?
I take it all back. I'm like a fucking dead fish going belly up, over here.
Uh.
[He clears his throat.]So any kids who like ( Read more... )
What's going on?
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Now.
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[He stuffs the faciliberry in his pocket and makes his way back to Lucas's room, where he's been staying unofficially since returning from Haven. Lucas might notice that there's something else stuffed in Matthew's other jacket pocket, but whether he's going to say anything about that or not is his choice.
He lets himself in because, well, he's sleeping here as of right now. So that makes it his room too, right? Why would he knock on his own door?]
...Did I do something?
[His voice is tired and sad, and Lucas will probably be able to tell Matthew doesn't really care if he did something bad or not. His eyes are a little puffy, one hand trying to smooth down the bulge that the unnamed thing is making in his jacket pocket.]
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...
[He notices that he's stashing something, but he doesn't ask about it just yet.]
I don't know. According to some asshole, you did.
...I'm worried about you.
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Some asshole, huh? Then w-why does it matter?
There's...nothing to worry about. I'm okay. I'm...dealing with things.
[No he's not.]
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...come over here, man. I think I've figured out like...a system. Of sitting.
You know--
[He clears his throat.]
You know...that I'd never--
[Lucas runs a hand through his hair, which is sticking up like an idiot due to the gravity.]
Just--just come over and sit with me, alright?
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W-what the hell are people saying about me? Do I know this person?
[He folds his arms defiantly. Nope. Not moving, Lucas. Sorry.]
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It's getting just long enough for him to start pulling at it, which is what he's doing right now.]
That Sherlock douchebag. Kenzi's friend. He fucking...I can't handle people I don't know, people I don't like--in my business. And he's telling me that Kenzi's in his room, causing a fit, because apparently you were freaking out on her when she was a kid, telling her I was gonna fuck her and leave her?
[Pull. Pull.]
...
...you can't do that shit, man.
Don't think I don't know what this is about.
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[Matthew grits his teeth, glaring across the room at Lucas. He's not in the mood for this. Not at all. And is Lucas blaming him for what happened?!
BULL. SHIT.]
...I don't know who that is, and I d-don't care. But it's pretty obvious why he knows anything about what I said to her: SHE TOLD HIM. I know you don't like getting assholes involved in your business. I know how to be a fucking adult and argue like someone who has matured past h-high school. Is it my fault that she doesn't?! NO!!!
I'm fucking SICK of her!!! Y-you know what? I can do what I W-WANT!!! I can say what I WANT to her! Because she's not saying a goddamn word to me that makes me think for even a SECOND that she'd be able to improve your life in a-any way, or that she really does care about you, or what you th-think, or what I think!!!
[He jabs his index finger into his chest with those last three words, eyes wide and furious. He's livid. Now is NOT the time for this conversation.If you know what this is about, w-why don't you just tell me what it is, huh?! If ( ... )
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He needs more time to process all this.
He doesn't know what to do.]
...Matthew.
[Lucas tugs at his hair one more time before leaning forward and wrapping his arm around Matthew, pulling him into a one-armed hug and keeping him there.]
Stop.
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Then he squirms, pushing away from him and trying to get away.]
N-no. No. Fuck this. I'm not g-going through all of this bullshit again j-just for you to tell me that we need to get along, because you l-love both of us, and it's not f-fair for you to have to choose between us.
Sometimes you h-have to fucking choose. And if you can't choose, th-then I'll choose f-for you.
[He barely wrests free, trying to keep his face screwed up in anger, because it's keeping the tears away.]
Fucking take her, if you n-need her so bad. I'll go rot alone. B-because there's no way in hell I'll ever m-matter to anyone as much as I wish I w-would, and l-least of all YOU, b-best friend.
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Stop telling me how I feel. Stop assuming you know everything I'm gonna say, stop assuming you know everything I fucking think, and stop acting like I'll abandon you the second an opportunity presents itself. Have I ever done that? Have I ever once, since we've been here?!
I said I know what this is all about, and you're confirming that I do, even though you're not saying it the right fucking way.
I've been trying to tell you--
[His hand finds his hair again, and he doesn't even consciously realize it. But he's tugging away.]
I've been trying to tell you that--that I'd always pick you.
I'd always pick you, man. You're my best friend.
You're worrying for...for no fucking reason.
Because I'll always pick you.
And she knows that, too.
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...P-prove it.
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I don't--
[Lucas is pulling way too hard at his hair, now. To the point where he realizes it's gonna be sore the next day.]
--I don't know what you w-want me to do.
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[He sniffs. Hard.]
I couldn't c-care less if I sound fucking c-crazy. I don't give a shit what T-Todd would say about me saying this. I don't give a shit what SHE says. I need...I need to know that I...I come f-first.
...I don't even care if this...p-puts me into an entirely different League, centered around you. I h-have to matter most to you. I don't...I don't have a-anyone else. If it was you and her, and I broke my arm again? She'd tell you not to h-help me, because she's so s-spiteful. N-no one else would help me, Lucas. I can't count on anyone like I can count on y-you.
[In spite of himself, he reaches out and barely touches Lucas's jaw.]
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[He doesn't wanna bring up Knives. So he doesn't, and he lets his sentence trail off.]
Matthew, you can't--
--if she ever told me not to help you, I'd laugh in her fucking face. You seriously think I'd let someone else tell me what to do like that? That I'd just say "fuck you" because someone told me to? Then...then you don't trust me at all.
...I asked to talk to her too. And I'm going to.
[He closes his eyes when Matthew touches him. He just wants to not be fighting about this. He just wants Matthew to trust him.]
...how could you think I'd ever do that to you, M-Matthew?
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