"So it's all about you?"
Despite the pills, Kcalb had been left anxious at the ominous "we need to talk" that was whispered to him when Marty brushed by him after lunch. At this point, he wasn't sure which was worse: the several hours sitting in anticipation, or what was to follow it.
Marty tugged him by the sleeve into the meeting room, shutting the door quietly and sighing. He stopped to look at Kcalb before taking a seat in one of the chairs, and although Kcalb wasn't asked nor told to sit down, he wasn't sure if he should, but he did anyway. He sat there awkwardly until Marty took his hand and grasped it for one long moment, not because he was feeling so much about whatever he was going to talk about, but because he was preparing what to say.
"You're my best friend," Marty started off slowly, gently. "And I love you and you know that, but I've gotta give it to you straight: I'm sick of your shit."
Kcalb flinched, wondering if Marty could feel the tremors in his hand. He knew it wasn't that bad, at least not yet, and that was the problem. Or maybe it was at its worst already, and he was denying it by marking confrontation as the peak.
Marty squeezed his hand, leaning in and trying to read his expression. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"
Kcalb bit his lip and hesitated. That question was the worst. He knew generally what Marty was upset about, but there was a self-doubt that exploded within him and pointed out other things, saying, there's a lot of shit with you, and just because he can talk about one thing doesn't mean the others don't exist; it'll take more than just a conversation to list out what's got you fucked up. What he was thinking of may not have been what Marty was thinking of. To save himself from a grueling question-and-answer talk, Kcalb said instead, "I don't know."
There was a pause, Marty's fault. He sighed and retracted his hand from Kcalb's, running it through his hair, again thinking of what to say and how to say it. "This whole 'not talking' deal. I know that sometimes people don't want to talk about certain things and that's fine, I do that a lot myself, but usually I can get past it. You know? I can restrain my complaints because I know that whatever it is I'm complaining about, will pass. Sometimes it doesn't, but even then it's still not a big problem. When it is, though, I go to somebody for purging or advice."
Kcalb nodded stiffly, waiting to get called on something.
"With you though, it's like.." Marty paused, rubbing his lip with his fingertip, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to get out. "When you don't 'feel' like talking, it doesn't really stop there. Now, I can understand that there are some people you bring your problems to because they're the ones who are better for whatever your problems are, but, y'know, it's tough. I don't want to say it like you don't know what you're doing, but to me, that's what it seems like. Like, why is it that when you need to talk about something private, I'm one of the last people to know about it? I'm your best friend, right? So how come whenever you're depressed about something, you go to someone like Ju Cai?"
Kcalb opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn't sure if it was where Marty had intended to stop. He hadn't even let out a breath when Marty continued again.
"I'm not trying to say that Ju Cai is a bad guy, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just, don't you think it's unfair that you talk to him about things like, this manic depression that you have, or whatever? Instead of me or Gavin? Now, I can't speak for him but I know that it sucks to hear that your best friend is sad from somebody else. It's a slap in the face, especially when I'm always asking you how you're feeling and if there's anything up and you're like, 'I'm fine and there's nothing wrong.' What's with that?"
"I.." Kcalb threw a word in just to let Marty know that he wanted to speak, scowling. "I'm afraid to talk to you guys."
"O-..kay," Marty nodded slowly, trying to understand where he was coming from. "Honestly, I think that we're the last people on earth you should be afraid to talk to, but alright. I can get that."
"It's not that I'm, like..worried that the way you guys see me is going to change, since..to be truthful, I expect it to and I've accepted that, but I don't know when to talk to you. If I bring something up, it feels like you're uninterested and it's discouraging, to say the least. I don't need you guys to constantly ask me questions since that's not fair, but I'm always getting the feeling that I'm just wasting all of our time and I'd rather not do that, or feel that way."
Marty snorted, effectively making Kcalb stop. "So it's all about you?"
Kcalb rubbed the back of his neck and sucked in a breath, as though he'd just taken a punch. "Sorry."
"I don't wanna curse at you or anything, man, but like..." Marty bit his lip, shaking his head quickly. "How the fuck do I seem uninterested? Honestly, I'm..kind of offended by that. I never thought I'd come out that way, especially not to you."
Kcalb shrugged helplessly, shaking. "I don't know either. Honest. It..just feels like it. Because I'm so damn repetitive, you know? Every time I open my mouth, it's the same problem anyway, and I'm not saying anything new so then you're not saying anything new either. It's like even though I still feel terrible, it just feels like you're gradually getting more and more impatient with me."
Marty pressed his hand to his mouth for a moment, shaking his head again. "Well I'm sorry I can't suck your fucking dick every time you feel sad, but I'm doing my best to just make sure you're hanging in there. I might not have anything new to say and alright, I do repeat advice to you, but I'm still here to listen whenever you need me to. Fuck it, dude, you don't even come to me for appropriate things anymore. Like, okay, you've been newly diagnosed with a mood disorder and you're glazed from all the drugs. Okay! Normal for that situation, I guess, but why do you have to keep your mouth shut about it and I find things you write insinuating you want to die? Don't you think I'd know something about how to fucking cope with being slightly clinically crazy?"
"It's not like that," Kcalb said quickly, blinking fast before pressure came out in the form of tears. "I don't know what's going on, Marty. My sense of judgment is hazy and I know that--"
"Yeah! But that's not an excuse, Kcalb. How old are you, that you can't even handle regular stress in a regular way? You're thirty fucking years old, grow a pair of balls and take up some kind of responsibility for the shit you're doing. It's even as simple as thinking before you say or write down anything. You said some fucked up shit, at least act like you're sorry before coming up with some bullshit justification. I'm on pills too, okay? I make some crazy ass decisions whether or not I'm using them, but at least I know what I've done."
"I know what I'm doing, Marty, it's just hard. I don't know, I can't explain it very well." Kcalb scratched his nose nervously, still shaking. "I don't know, really. I don't know if my behavior is really just me or if it's the fucking diagnosis, man."
"Does that part matter? I'm concerned about how you correct it, dude. Maybe it's you, maybe it's entirely the disorder, I don't fucking know, I don't think anybody does, but that doesn't mean wallow and do nothing about it. You don't have to know which one it is, just at least make an attempt to make it better, not just..save your face or whatever the fuck you're doing now. I'm sorry that I can't tell you anything else and I'm sorry that Gavin seems to be just as incapable as I am when it comes to helping you, but try to help yourself too, Kcalb. It's not that I'm losing my patience with you, it's just tiring watching you go through the same thing and you have no fucking clue that you're just walking into the same situation over and over again."
"Come on, don't talk to me like that. I never said that you guys were incapable, I'm just hard-headed--I know that. Alright? I know I'm a tough case. I'm trying and even though it might not seem like I am, please believe me when I say that. It's just..difficult. I don't know. I can't handle myself and I'm frequently getting the impression that no one else wants to handle me so what the hell am I supposed to do? I don't know. Maybe repeating advice is a bad thing to do because it gets so stale. I don't know. Can I just get some support for once, instead of being spoken to like you're my parent?"
"What? I'm always giving you suppor--" Marty cut himself off, rubbing his face hard, thinking. "Look, man... If talking it out doesn't work, I don't know, rub one out or something. Maybe that's why you're so frustrated all the damn time. I bet that if you got laid every once in a while, you just might think less about suicide."
Kcalb furrowed his brows, twisting his mouth a little. "That's a really sneaky way of telling me to go fuck myself."
Marty snorted, narrowing his eyes. "Well I'm glad you caught it."
"Can you really blame me for not wanting you guys to get pissed at me? I don't know, you said you're not losing your patience but it terrifies the shit out of me because it's like you go from being worried to angry, and I don't want you to hate me."
"So fucking get over yourself! I'm your best friend, Kcalb, of course I'm going to get angry with you over some things but these bad habits of yours are so long-lasting, it just has to end somewhere and I'd be a horrible friend to you if I let you go on the way you do. I might be fulfilling your expectation-slash-fear right now by getting mad, but so then deal with it! You're a grown man; my tone shouldn't affect what I'm trying to tell you."
Kcalb bit his lip and sniffled, rubbing his eyes beneath his shades. He hesitated before stammering out, "I'm sorry."
Marty knew it wouldn't be right to say, but it came out anyway. "After this, are you gonna go home and write things down about wanting to die to other people?"
Kcalb choked back a sob, turning away as the pressure finally fell out from behind his eyelids. "I don't want to see you right now, Marty."
"Okay, but is that going to help any of your problems? You don't like it when people get angry with you and brush you off, but that reaction of yours isn't any better. If you really are going to die though, at least make sure it'll benefit you or something. Because as long as it made you happy, well then, that's fine with me. I can do without you, you know."
Kcalb stood up, "Don't be an asshole," and quickly left the room.
Marty called out after him before the door closed, "Don't be so fucking annoying!" After the door fell shut he frowned and got up from the chair, ready to follow him. As soon as he stepped out, Yousei grabbed his arm and spoke to him sarcastically.
"I'm proud of you. That tact was about as gentle as Genghis Khan." He sighed and rolled his eyes, taking a moment to watch Kcalb stalk nervously down the hallway. "You're both fucking idiots, you know that?"
Marty jumped out of surprise and yanked his arm away, frowning. It was a while before he said anything. "I know I reacted badly to that. I was going to apologize to him but you stopped me."
"What's wrong with you, that made you say all those things to him? I know I'd say that, but you? I think he and I both expected a bit more than that. You're thirty years old too, don't drop down a level just because he set you off."
"Look, I got dumped, okay? I'm not angry about it, just..really upset, I wanted to distract myself and I didn't take my medication today."
"Because escalating a confrontation is a really good distraction. 'At least act like you're sorry before coming up with some bullshit justification,' right, Marty?"
Marty glanced off to the side, frowning. Inwardly he disagreed that any of it was bullshit, but he accepted it anyway.
"..I deserved that."
Marty tugged him by the sleeve into the meeting room, shutting the door quietly and sighing. He stopped to look at Kcalb before taking a seat in one of the chairs, and although Kcalb wasn't asked nor told to sit down, he wasn't sure if he should, but he did anyway. He sat there awkwardly until Marty took his hand and grasped it for one long moment, not because he was feeling so much about whatever he was going to talk about, but because he was preparing what to say.
"You're my best friend," Marty started off slowly, gently. "And I love you and you know that, but I've gotta give it to you straight: I'm sick of your shit."
Kcalb flinched, wondering if Marty could feel the tremors in his hand. He knew it wasn't that bad, at least not yet, and that was the problem. Or maybe it was at its worst already, and he was denying it by marking confrontation as the peak.
Marty squeezed his hand, leaning in and trying to read his expression. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"
Kcalb bit his lip and hesitated. That question was the worst. He knew generally what Marty was upset about, but there was a self-doubt that exploded within him and pointed out other things, saying, there's a lot of shit with you, and just because he can talk about one thing doesn't mean the others don't exist; it'll take more than just a conversation to list out what's got you fucked up. What he was thinking of may not have been what Marty was thinking of. To save himself from a grueling question-and-answer talk, Kcalb said instead, "I don't know."
There was a pause, Marty's fault. He sighed and retracted his hand from Kcalb's, running it through his hair, again thinking of what to say and how to say it. "This whole 'not talking' deal. I know that sometimes people don't want to talk about certain things and that's fine, I do that a lot myself, but usually I can get past it. You know? I can restrain my complaints because I know that whatever it is I'm complaining about, will pass. Sometimes it doesn't, but even then it's still not a big problem. When it is, though, I go to somebody for purging or advice."
Kcalb nodded stiffly, waiting to get called on something.
"With you though, it's like.." Marty paused, rubbing his lip with his fingertip, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to get out. "When you don't 'feel' like talking, it doesn't really stop there. Now, I can understand that there are some people you bring your problems to because they're the ones who are better for whatever your problems are, but, y'know, it's tough. I don't want to say it like you don't know what you're doing, but to me, that's what it seems like. Like, why is it that when you need to talk about something private, I'm one of the last people to know about it? I'm your best friend, right? So how come whenever you're depressed about something, you go to someone like Ju Cai?"
Kcalb opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn't sure if it was where Marty had intended to stop. He hadn't even let out a breath when Marty continued again.
"I'm not trying to say that Ju Cai is a bad guy, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just, don't you think it's unfair that you talk to him about things like, this manic depression that you have, or whatever? Instead of me or Gavin? Now, I can't speak for him but I know that it sucks to hear that your best friend is sad from somebody else. It's a slap in the face, especially when I'm always asking you how you're feeling and if there's anything up and you're like, 'I'm fine and there's nothing wrong.' What's with that?"
"I.." Kcalb threw a word in just to let Marty know that he wanted to speak, scowling. "I'm afraid to talk to you guys."
"O-..kay," Marty nodded slowly, trying to understand where he was coming from. "Honestly, I think that we're the last people on earth you should be afraid to talk to, but alright. I can get that."
"It's not that I'm, like..worried that the way you guys see me is going to change, since..to be truthful, I expect it to and I've accepted that, but I don't know when to talk to you. If I bring something up, it feels like you're uninterested and it's discouraging, to say the least. I don't need you guys to constantly ask me questions since that's not fair, but I'm always getting the feeling that I'm just wasting all of our time and I'd rather not do that, or feel that way."
Marty snorted, effectively making Kcalb stop. "So it's all about you?"
Kcalb rubbed the back of his neck and sucked in a breath, as though he'd just taken a punch. "Sorry."
"I don't wanna curse at you or anything, man, but like..." Marty bit his lip, shaking his head quickly. "How the fuck do I seem uninterested? Honestly, I'm..kind of offended by that. I never thought I'd come out that way, especially not to you."
Kcalb shrugged helplessly, shaking. "I don't know either. Honest. It..just feels like it. Because I'm so damn repetitive, you know? Every time I open my mouth, it's the same problem anyway, and I'm not saying anything new so then you're not saying anything new either. It's like even though I still feel terrible, it just feels like you're gradually getting more and more impatient with me."
Marty pressed his hand to his mouth for a moment, shaking his head again. "Well I'm sorry I can't suck your fucking dick every time you feel sad, but I'm doing my best to just make sure you're hanging in there. I might not have anything new to say and alright, I do repeat advice to you, but I'm still here to listen whenever you need me to. Fuck it, dude, you don't even come to me for appropriate things anymore. Like, okay, you've been newly diagnosed with a mood disorder and you're glazed from all the drugs. Okay! Normal for that situation, I guess, but why do you have to keep your mouth shut about it and I find things you write insinuating you want to die? Don't you think I'd know something about how to fucking cope with being slightly clinically crazy?"
"It's not like that," Kcalb said quickly, blinking fast before pressure came out in the form of tears. "I don't know what's going on, Marty. My sense of judgment is hazy and I know that--"
"Yeah! But that's not an excuse, Kcalb. How old are you, that you can't even handle regular stress in a regular way? You're thirty fucking years old, grow a pair of balls and take up some kind of responsibility for the shit you're doing. It's even as simple as thinking before you say or write down anything. You said some fucked up shit, at least act like you're sorry before coming up with some bullshit justification. I'm on pills too, okay? I make some crazy ass decisions whether or not I'm using them, but at least I know what I've done."
"I know what I'm doing, Marty, it's just hard. I don't know, I can't explain it very well." Kcalb scratched his nose nervously, still shaking. "I don't know, really. I don't know if my behavior is really just me or if it's the fucking diagnosis, man."
"Does that part matter? I'm concerned about how you correct it, dude. Maybe it's you, maybe it's entirely the disorder, I don't fucking know, I don't think anybody does, but that doesn't mean wallow and do nothing about it. You don't have to know which one it is, just at least make an attempt to make it better, not just..save your face or whatever the fuck you're doing now. I'm sorry that I can't tell you anything else and I'm sorry that Gavin seems to be just as incapable as I am when it comes to helping you, but try to help yourself too, Kcalb. It's not that I'm losing my patience with you, it's just tiring watching you go through the same thing and you have no fucking clue that you're just walking into the same situation over and over again."
"Come on, don't talk to me like that. I never said that you guys were incapable, I'm just hard-headed--I know that. Alright? I know I'm a tough case. I'm trying and even though it might not seem like I am, please believe me when I say that. It's just..difficult. I don't know. I can't handle myself and I'm frequently getting the impression that no one else wants to handle me so what the hell am I supposed to do? I don't know. Maybe repeating advice is a bad thing to do because it gets so stale. I don't know. Can I just get some support for once, instead of being spoken to like you're my parent?"
"What? I'm always giving you suppor--" Marty cut himself off, rubbing his face hard, thinking. "Look, man... If talking it out doesn't work, I don't know, rub one out or something. Maybe that's why you're so frustrated all the damn time. I bet that if you got laid every once in a while, you just might think less about suicide."
Kcalb furrowed his brows, twisting his mouth a little. "That's a really sneaky way of telling me to go fuck myself."
Marty snorted, narrowing his eyes. "Well I'm glad you caught it."
"Can you really blame me for not wanting you guys to get pissed at me? I don't know, you said you're not losing your patience but it terrifies the shit out of me because it's like you go from being worried to angry, and I don't want you to hate me."
"So fucking get over yourself! I'm your best friend, Kcalb, of course I'm going to get angry with you over some things but these bad habits of yours are so long-lasting, it just has to end somewhere and I'd be a horrible friend to you if I let you go on the way you do. I might be fulfilling your expectation-slash-fear right now by getting mad, but so then deal with it! You're a grown man; my tone shouldn't affect what I'm trying to tell you."
Kcalb bit his lip and sniffled, rubbing his eyes beneath his shades. He hesitated before stammering out, "I'm sorry."
Marty knew it wouldn't be right to say, but it came out anyway. "After this, are you gonna go home and write things down about wanting to die to other people?"
Kcalb choked back a sob, turning away as the pressure finally fell out from behind his eyelids. "I don't want to see you right now, Marty."
"Okay, but is that going to help any of your problems? You don't like it when people get angry with you and brush you off, but that reaction of yours isn't any better. If you really are going to die though, at least make sure it'll benefit you or something. Because as long as it made you happy, well then, that's fine with me. I can do without you, you know."
Kcalb stood up, "Don't be an asshole," and quickly left the room.
Marty called out after him before the door closed, "Don't be so fucking annoying!" After the door fell shut he frowned and got up from the chair, ready to follow him. As soon as he stepped out, Yousei grabbed his arm and spoke to him sarcastically.
"I'm proud of you. That tact was about as gentle as Genghis Khan." He sighed and rolled his eyes, taking a moment to watch Kcalb stalk nervously down the hallway. "You're both fucking idiots, you know that?"
Marty jumped out of surprise and yanked his arm away, frowning. It was a while before he said anything. "I know I reacted badly to that. I was going to apologize to him but you stopped me."
"What's wrong with you, that made you say all those things to him? I know I'd say that, but you? I think he and I both expected a bit more than that. You're thirty years old too, don't drop down a level just because he set you off."
"Look, I got dumped, okay? I'm not angry about it, just..really upset, I wanted to distract myself and I didn't take my medication today."
"Because escalating a confrontation is a really good distraction. 'At least act like you're sorry before coming up with some bullshit justification,' right, Marty?"
Marty glanced off to the side, frowning. Inwardly he disagreed that any of it was bullshit, but he accepted it anyway.
"..I deserved that."