why would i want to watch you disconnect and self-destruct
After two hours of wandering around downtown LA at night, it occurs to Brody that he has nowhere else to go.
He left his money and valuables -- a plastic shopping bag full of expensive leather wallets, watches, rings, cufflinks, and cash, some of it blood-stained -- in his room. He could hustle for the money for a place but he really doesn't feel like it, hasn't felt like it in a long time. He could kill for it, but he isn't hungry, there's no guarantee whoever he picks will be carrying cash, and anyway he doesn't feel like putting in enough effort to get rid of the body. There's no one he knows well enough in New York to crash with, not considering his situation. There's definitely no one in LA. He can't spend the night on the street and he doesn't want to go hang out in the sewers again. It's disgusting and it stinks.
He comes slinking back to the Room instead, relieved that Harvestman isn't there anymore. He doesn't want to talk to him right now. He knows he's being unreasonable, but it bothers him that all of a sudden he's treating him like a child when he's been expected to be an adult for the past year, and it upsets him that it's taken him a year to get around to caring enough to bring it up. Then why do you insist on doing it by yourself? He felt like screaming, still feels like screaming. Because I've fucking had to.
But talking makes it worse. He can scream it until he's blue in the face -- not that that can happen anymore -- and it won't change anything. It won't help. It won't make him feel any better.
It takes him a long time to knock on Lucas' door, clutching a jar full of dirt with his creepy dead dog sitting at his feet. He's been wearing the same clothes for weeks.
posted @ dreamwidth.
He left his money and valuables -- a plastic shopping bag full of expensive leather wallets, watches, rings, cufflinks, and cash, some of it blood-stained -- in his room. He could hustle for the money for a place but he really doesn't feel like it, hasn't felt like it in a long time. He could kill for it, but he isn't hungry, there's no guarantee whoever he picks will be carrying cash, and anyway he doesn't feel like putting in enough effort to get rid of the body. There's no one he knows well enough in New York to crash with, not considering his situation. There's definitely no one in LA. He can't spend the night on the street and he doesn't want to go hang out in the sewers again. It's disgusting and it stinks.
He comes slinking back to the Room instead, relieved that Harvestman isn't there anymore. He doesn't want to talk to him right now. He knows he's being unreasonable, but it bothers him that all of a sudden he's treating him like a child when he's been expected to be an adult for the past year, and it upsets him that it's taken him a year to get around to caring enough to bring it up. Then why do you insist on doing it by yourself? He felt like screaming, still feels like screaming. Because I've fucking had to.
But talking makes it worse. He can scream it until he's blue in the face -- not that that can happen anymore -- and it won't change anything. It won't help. It won't make him feel any better.
It takes him a long time to knock on Lucas' door, clutching a jar full of dirt with his creepy dead dog sitting at his feet. He's been wearing the same clothes for weeks.
posted @ dreamwidth.