NaNo Day Twelve
Oh my god, internet. Today. TODAY.
To start off, breaking 25k took me by surprise. I don't know why. I went to Panera to try and get some work done and did a word count before I left and was at 24k and it hit me that I'd probably be able to break 25k when I got home. I don't know why that feels so momentous--I'm really only halfway there--but it makes me feel better about not getting any writing done tomorrow.
The other major thing was a problem with Alan.
I love Alan. I think he can be a dick, but I've been developing him for three years now, almost exactly, and I really do adore him. He's going through a really shitty time in his life right now, and will be from now until just about a year after this story. SORRY, ALAN. But really, it's all circumstance. I want to defend him to those of you who don't know him yet! He's not normally such an asshole to the guys he dates, he's just right smack in the middle of the worst three years of his life. He's depressed and undiagnosed and he doesn't know how to deal with himself right now. He's got some really good times waiting just a little further into the future, but for now he's ready to just give in and let the universe win.
That all being said, I've never wanted to slap one of my characters as much as I did in one of the scenes I wrote today. Dan and Alan have a fight that is the EXACT fight I had with my ex twice when she dumped me. Except that Dan is awesome and stands up for himself and I just cried a lot and pretended everything would be okay, like a pussy. I feel bad projecting those characteristics on Alan, because Alan's NOT a bad guy, but he is a mess. Still, seeing those things come out of his mouth made me sick to my stomach, especially when you add in the last terrible thing he's going to do to Dan that is something that I always suspected my ex of doing and could never confirm and... yeah. Alan and I need to not be on speaking terms for a little while, so it's probably good that I'm taking tomorrow off.
It's funny, though, because the story of Dan is this: in the RP that Beaumont was initially, Dan was played by a friend of mine who I basically talked into playing in the game and then talked into co-modding the game with me. She said she'd only play a new character (as opposed to an abandoned character, of which she played one as well) if she could have a little fun with it. It took me a good two weeks to figure out what her fun was, but Dan's interests and obsessions and some of his mannerisms were based on me. (Yes, it took me two weeks of playing against MYSELF for me to realize it.) So to have Dan being (a cooler, more collected, and more self-respecting) me in a conversation that I actually had was... weird.
And I really wish I could have had that much self-respect. :\
***
Today: 2110
25230/50000
***
Alicia began to feel under the weather as Christmas day ran down, and by the morning of the 26th, Scott was just as sick. Richie and Denise made it clear that Alan was more than welcome to come back with them anyway, but in the end, he decided to go back to Beaumont early. He pulled up to his building just in time to see Doug unloading his car and offered a sheepish smile when Doug peered at him in confusion.
"My niece and nephew got sick and I think my brother isn't far behind," Alan explained. "So. Yay. I'm home early."
"Good to hear it," Doug said. "Otherwise I'd be spending most of the week on my own, which is never good for my psyche."
"I'm glad you're here," Alan said. He reached into his open trunk and pulled out two shopping bags. "My dad sent me home with enough food to feed the entire faculty for a week, and if it's just me, it's going to go bad or I'm going to get very fat."
Doug gave him a look over the top of his glasses. "You have a metabolism that teenaged girls can only dream about. Don't think that I didn't notice that you're skinny enough to pull yourself into that vent in the laundry room that Fluorite used to use to get from my apartment to yours."
"Either way," Alan said. "I'd like some help eating."
"And that is certainly help that I am willing to give," Doug said.
Laura, he discovered the next afternoon, was also around to help. While replacing a broken bulb in the string of lights hanging across his front window, Alan saw her walking hurriedly down the path to her building.
"Hey, Doug!" Alan called into the kitchen, where Doug was making coffee. "Didn't Laura say she and Ryan were going to be in New Jersey for the whole break?"
Doug glanced at him over the breakfast bar. "I thought so, but I could be mistaken," he said.
"I swear I just saw her walk by," Alan muttered, squinting through the glass, hoping to get a better look. When she didn't reappear after a few moments, he shrugged and let his curtains fall back into place.
"You could always go over and knock on her door," Doug said, carefully carrying two mugs of coffee into the living room, with a bottle of Bailey's tucked under his arm. He handed one mug to Alan, who cradled it enthusiastically, and accepted the Bailey's when Doug was finished with it.
"Maybe later," Alan said. "I've got to go grocery shopping tomorrow and she does take a bizarre pleasure out of going grocery shopping. I could invite her along."
"You know who else you could invite along?" Doug asked over the rim of his coffee mug. Alan knew who he was talking about already, but gave Doug an enquiring look anyway. "Dan. You know. That guy you're dating."
Alan stared down into his coffee mug. "Yeah. I'm going to go over there tomorrow. I have a present for him and everything." He perked up. "Oh! Speaking of! You left before I could give you yours." He carefully placed his mug on the coffeetable and then disappeared into the bedroom, returning a few moments later with a package wrapped in burgundy paper and another wrapped in royal blue. Doug was standing, fishing his keys out of his pocket, when Alan handed them over.
"One for you and one for Fluorite," Alan explained.
"You needn't have gotten me a present," Doug said. "But that aside, I've got one for you too, if you'd just give me a minute to run back next door. I'll get this little terror too," he added, shaking the blue package. A tinny bell sounded from within.
"You shouldn't have," Alan said. "But of course. It's not like I've got anything better to do."
Doug nodded and crossed to the door, which he propped open with one of Alan's shoes. Alan listened to him cross the hall and then unlock his door. A few moments later, Doug reappeared, a gift bag in one hand and a cat in the other. He kicked the door closed and returned to the couch. He handed the bag to Alan and deposited Fluorite on the floor, before tearing open the blue package.
"They're mostly second hand," Alan admitted, as Doug smiled at the small collection of cat toys. "I was going through some boxes back when I first moved in and I found them. I don't know why they got packed with me and not--" He cut himself off. "Anyway, they're yours."
Doug tossed a catnip mouse down on the floor. It distracted Fluorite from attacking the shiny blue paper, and both Alan and Doug watched the cat for a few moments.
"Thank you," Doug said eventually. "You didn't have to do that."
"They're not doing me any good," Alan said with a shrug. "Anyway, open yours, which is not second hand and can be returned if you don't like it." He chewed a little anxiously on his lip as Doug opened his present. He'd always been awful at finding presents for people, with the exception of one person, for whom shopping had always felt like second nature.
But he wasn't going to think about Danny right now. Not at all.
"Well, I guess this proves that you pay attention when I talk to you," Doug said with a chuckle. He was holding two books. The first was a beginner's guide to astronomy and the second was a volume of Greek mythology.
"I try," Alan said. "You really like them?"
"I do," Doug assured him. "But you're not off the hook yet! I still need a teacher, you know."
"I know," Alan said. "Believe me, you'll love it. Truly. I can't wait to start. But, I warn you, I'm not really an expert on mythology. I just know what I've picked up from years of working at the Planetarium with a Classics major. By reading that book, you'll probably know more than I do."
"Then we can both teach something," Doug said. "Anyway, it seems like Astronomy is the theme of the night." He pointed to the bag. "Go on."
Alan reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of what felt like fabric wrapped in tissue paper. Tearing the tissue paper away revealed a pile of black wool that straightened out into a scarf. It was covered in--
"Are these constellations?" Alan asked, squinting at the silver dots. "These are constellations! I can't believe it."
"I found the pattern on the internet," Doug said. "Monica knitted it for me, so you should really be thanking her. Dan mentioned that you have a shortage of winter weather gear."
"This is really very sweet," Alan said, unable to knock the smile off of his face. "Thanks, Doug."
"Like I said," Doug said, "I just paid for it. You should really thank Monica for it."
"I'll be sure to do that," Alan said. "But you definitely deserve thanks as well, so you should just sit down, drink your coffee, and enjoy it."
Doug cracked a smile. "Sounds like a plan," he said.
It was nice to spend time with Doug without having to worry about work and class and the endless list of things that distracted him while he was teaching. It was also nice to spend time with someone else, period. He was trying to stop spending so much time on his own, at his sister's insistence. His sister had said a lot of things, actually, and as much as he hated to admit they made sense...
"You need to talk to him," she had said, walking him out to his car, ostensibly to carry some of the food their father was sending home with him. She held up her free hand before Alan could protest. "Don't give me any of the usual crap, okay? Any therapist worth their time would tell you the same thing. This wasn't some fling, Alan, this was an intense, long-term relationship, and you just cut him off one day. You just stopped talking to him and about him, period. That's not healthy. If you have any hope of moving on, you need to have a conversation with Danny Stevens and put all of this crap to rest, okay?"
He hadn't agreed, but he hadn't disagreed either. Cynthia made sense. But at the same time, he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about or ready for taking that first step.
In fact, he was starting to feel that being stagnant was the safest way for things to go. The idea of seeing Dan, or talking to Dan, or, really, being anywhere near him, made his skin itch and his shoulders feel tight and tense. He knew it was unfair and cruel, but he certainly was not going out of his way to see Dan.
Not that the universe was in on that plan, apparently.
He ran into Dan in the bakery department of Shaw's. If he had been paying less attention to his cart's sticky wheel and more attention to his surroundings, he may have been able to avoid the situation all together, but by the time he looked up, Dan was two feet away and bound to see him any second. He was trying to decide if he should say something and act casual or wait to be confronted, when Dan made the decision for him.
"Are you going to talk to me or just slowly back away and pretend this never happened?" Dan asked without looking up from the pie he was inspecting.
"I was trying to think of something witty to say about you and pie," Alan half-lied.
"Sure," Dan said. "Go with that. Is that also why you haven't returned my phone calls?"
"I just..." Alan said plaintively. "I just... I need some space. Just a little space to clear my head. Things got a little intense at my father's, I'm going through some stuff... honestly, Dan, I was going to call you, I just needed a couple more days..."
"And you couldn't shoot me an e-mail and say, 'Hey, sorry, I can't go to that thing, I need a couple days to myself, I'll call you next week'?" Dan asked. He put the pie down in his cart with slightly more force than necessary.
"I'm sorr--"
"I know," Dan snapped. "You're sorry. That's great. Does me a fat lot of good. Thanks. Why don't you give me a call when you get your shit together? That should be, what, next October?" He turned and walked two or three feet away and then froze and walked back, his hands covering his face. Alan was nearly biting through his lower lip, his hands squeezed so tightly around the handle of the cart that he was afraid of breaking either the plastic or his bones. Dan had a point. He had multiple points. In fact, he was entirely in the right and Alan was acting exactly like some of his more repugnant exes. He felt like a heel.
"Look," Dan finally said, sighing. "I like you a lot, okay? You're funny. You're easy on the eyes. You're probably the smartest guy I've ever met. When you start talking about how the universe works and what makes the Earth keep spinning, I get chills. But if I wanted to hear you talk about the universe, I could go to a lecture. You see what I'm getting at?"
Alan nodded, numbly.
"Get your shit together. Seriously. Figure this all out and give me a call."
Alan was still standing there when Dan pushed his cart away. He was still standing there when an older woman pulled up behind him and cleared her throat.
"You're blocking the muffins," she said.
"Sorry," Alan murmured, and moved on. He kept his head down, finished his shopping as quickly as he could, and cursed Laura Carter and her refusal to open her door when he had knocked earlier. If she had come with him, maybe he would have been able to avoid the situation all together.
Once he got home, he tried her again, knocking for a good two or three minutes until he was sure no one would be answering. He knew he had seen her the other night, and wherever she had disappeared to, it wasn't New Jersey. He tried to peer into her window, but the shades were drawn and he was starting to feel a little like a stalker. Plus, the longer he stayed outside, the better the chance of one of his less desirable neighbors noticing that he was home. With a final look, he went back to his own building and up the stairs to his apartment. He was looking forward to spending the rest of the night drinking and feeling sorry for himself. Getting his life together could wait one more night.
To start off, breaking 25k took me by surprise. I don't know why. I went to Panera to try and get some work done and did a word count before I left and was at 24k and it hit me that I'd probably be able to break 25k when I got home. I don't know why that feels so momentous--I'm really only halfway there--but it makes me feel better about not getting any writing done tomorrow.
The other major thing was a problem with Alan.
I love Alan. I think he can be a dick, but I've been developing him for three years now, almost exactly, and I really do adore him. He's going through a really shitty time in his life right now, and will be from now until just about a year after this story. SORRY, ALAN. But really, it's all circumstance. I want to defend him to those of you who don't know him yet! He's not normally such an asshole to the guys he dates, he's just right smack in the middle of the worst three years of his life. He's depressed and undiagnosed and he doesn't know how to deal with himself right now. He's got some really good times waiting just a little further into the future, but for now he's ready to just give in and let the universe win.
That all being said, I've never wanted to slap one of my characters as much as I did in one of the scenes I wrote today. Dan and Alan have a fight that is the EXACT fight I had with my ex twice when she dumped me. Except that Dan is awesome and stands up for himself and I just cried a lot and pretended everything would be okay, like a pussy. I feel bad projecting those characteristics on Alan, because Alan's NOT a bad guy, but he is a mess. Still, seeing those things come out of his mouth made me sick to my stomach, especially when you add in the last terrible thing he's going to do to Dan that is something that I always suspected my ex of doing and could never confirm and... yeah. Alan and I need to not be on speaking terms for a little while, so it's probably good that I'm taking tomorrow off.
It's funny, though, because the story of Dan is this: in the RP that Beaumont was initially, Dan was played by a friend of mine who I basically talked into playing in the game and then talked into co-modding the game with me. She said she'd only play a new character (as opposed to an abandoned character, of which she played one as well) if she could have a little fun with it. It took me a good two weeks to figure out what her fun was, but Dan's interests and obsessions and some of his mannerisms were based on me. (Yes, it took me two weeks of playing against MYSELF for me to realize it.) So to have Dan being (a cooler, more collected, and more self-respecting) me in a conversation that I actually had was... weird.
And I really wish I could have had that much self-respect. :\
***
Today: 2110
25230/50000
***
Alicia began to feel under the weather as Christmas day ran down, and by the morning of the 26th, Scott was just as sick. Richie and Denise made it clear that Alan was more than welcome to come back with them anyway, but in the end, he decided to go back to Beaumont early. He pulled up to his building just in time to see Doug unloading his car and offered a sheepish smile when Doug peered at him in confusion.
"My niece and nephew got sick and I think my brother isn't far behind," Alan explained. "So. Yay. I'm home early."
"Good to hear it," Doug said. "Otherwise I'd be spending most of the week on my own, which is never good for my psyche."
"I'm glad you're here," Alan said. He reached into his open trunk and pulled out two shopping bags. "My dad sent me home with enough food to feed the entire faculty for a week, and if it's just me, it's going to go bad or I'm going to get very fat."
Doug gave him a look over the top of his glasses. "You have a metabolism that teenaged girls can only dream about. Don't think that I didn't notice that you're skinny enough to pull yourself into that vent in the laundry room that Fluorite used to use to get from my apartment to yours."
"Either way," Alan said. "I'd like some help eating."
"And that is certainly help that I am willing to give," Doug said.
Laura, he discovered the next afternoon, was also around to help. While replacing a broken bulb in the string of lights hanging across his front window, Alan saw her walking hurriedly down the path to her building.
"Hey, Doug!" Alan called into the kitchen, where Doug was making coffee. "Didn't Laura say she and Ryan were going to be in New Jersey for the whole break?"
Doug glanced at him over the breakfast bar. "I thought so, but I could be mistaken," he said.
"I swear I just saw her walk by," Alan muttered, squinting through the glass, hoping to get a better look. When she didn't reappear after a few moments, he shrugged and let his curtains fall back into place.
"You could always go over and knock on her door," Doug said, carefully carrying two mugs of coffee into the living room, with a bottle of Bailey's tucked under his arm. He handed one mug to Alan, who cradled it enthusiastically, and accepted the Bailey's when Doug was finished with it.
"Maybe later," Alan said. "I've got to go grocery shopping tomorrow and she does take a bizarre pleasure out of going grocery shopping. I could invite her along."
"You know who else you could invite along?" Doug asked over the rim of his coffee mug. Alan knew who he was talking about already, but gave Doug an enquiring look anyway. "Dan. You know. That guy you're dating."
Alan stared down into his coffee mug. "Yeah. I'm going to go over there tomorrow. I have a present for him and everything." He perked up. "Oh! Speaking of! You left before I could give you yours." He carefully placed his mug on the coffeetable and then disappeared into the bedroom, returning a few moments later with a package wrapped in burgundy paper and another wrapped in royal blue. Doug was standing, fishing his keys out of his pocket, when Alan handed them over.
"One for you and one for Fluorite," Alan explained.
"You needn't have gotten me a present," Doug said. "But that aside, I've got one for you too, if you'd just give me a minute to run back next door. I'll get this little terror too," he added, shaking the blue package. A tinny bell sounded from within.
"You shouldn't have," Alan said. "But of course. It's not like I've got anything better to do."
Doug nodded and crossed to the door, which he propped open with one of Alan's shoes. Alan listened to him cross the hall and then unlock his door. A few moments later, Doug reappeared, a gift bag in one hand and a cat in the other. He kicked the door closed and returned to the couch. He handed the bag to Alan and deposited Fluorite on the floor, before tearing open the blue package.
"They're mostly second hand," Alan admitted, as Doug smiled at the small collection of cat toys. "I was going through some boxes back when I first moved in and I found them. I don't know why they got packed with me and not--" He cut himself off. "Anyway, they're yours."
Doug tossed a catnip mouse down on the floor. It distracted Fluorite from attacking the shiny blue paper, and both Alan and Doug watched the cat for a few moments.
"Thank you," Doug said eventually. "You didn't have to do that."
"They're not doing me any good," Alan said with a shrug. "Anyway, open yours, which is not second hand and can be returned if you don't like it." He chewed a little anxiously on his lip as Doug opened his present. He'd always been awful at finding presents for people, with the exception of one person, for whom shopping had always felt like second nature.
But he wasn't going to think about Danny right now. Not at all.
"Well, I guess this proves that you pay attention when I talk to you," Doug said with a chuckle. He was holding two books. The first was a beginner's guide to astronomy and the second was a volume of Greek mythology.
"I try," Alan said. "You really like them?"
"I do," Doug assured him. "But you're not off the hook yet! I still need a teacher, you know."
"I know," Alan said. "Believe me, you'll love it. Truly. I can't wait to start. But, I warn you, I'm not really an expert on mythology. I just know what I've picked up from years of working at the Planetarium with a Classics major. By reading that book, you'll probably know more than I do."
"Then we can both teach something," Doug said. "Anyway, it seems like Astronomy is the theme of the night." He pointed to the bag. "Go on."
Alan reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of what felt like fabric wrapped in tissue paper. Tearing the tissue paper away revealed a pile of black wool that straightened out into a scarf. It was covered in--
"Are these constellations?" Alan asked, squinting at the silver dots. "These are constellations! I can't believe it."
"I found the pattern on the internet," Doug said. "Monica knitted it for me, so you should really be thanking her. Dan mentioned that you have a shortage of winter weather gear."
"This is really very sweet," Alan said, unable to knock the smile off of his face. "Thanks, Doug."
"Like I said," Doug said, "I just paid for it. You should really thank Monica for it."
"I'll be sure to do that," Alan said. "But you definitely deserve thanks as well, so you should just sit down, drink your coffee, and enjoy it."
Doug cracked a smile. "Sounds like a plan," he said.
It was nice to spend time with Doug without having to worry about work and class and the endless list of things that distracted him while he was teaching. It was also nice to spend time with someone else, period. He was trying to stop spending so much time on his own, at his sister's insistence. His sister had said a lot of things, actually, and as much as he hated to admit they made sense...
"You need to talk to him," she had said, walking him out to his car, ostensibly to carry some of the food their father was sending home with him. She held up her free hand before Alan could protest. "Don't give me any of the usual crap, okay? Any therapist worth their time would tell you the same thing. This wasn't some fling, Alan, this was an intense, long-term relationship, and you just cut him off one day. You just stopped talking to him and about him, period. That's not healthy. If you have any hope of moving on, you need to have a conversation with Danny Stevens and put all of this crap to rest, okay?"
He hadn't agreed, but he hadn't disagreed either. Cynthia made sense. But at the same time, he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about or ready for taking that first step.
In fact, he was starting to feel that being stagnant was the safest way for things to go. The idea of seeing Dan, or talking to Dan, or, really, being anywhere near him, made his skin itch and his shoulders feel tight and tense. He knew it was unfair and cruel, but he certainly was not going out of his way to see Dan.
Not that the universe was in on that plan, apparently.
He ran into Dan in the bakery department of Shaw's. If he had been paying less attention to his cart's sticky wheel and more attention to his surroundings, he may have been able to avoid the situation all together, but by the time he looked up, Dan was two feet away and bound to see him any second. He was trying to decide if he should say something and act casual or wait to be confronted, when Dan made the decision for him.
"Are you going to talk to me or just slowly back away and pretend this never happened?" Dan asked without looking up from the pie he was inspecting.
"I was trying to think of something witty to say about you and pie," Alan half-lied.
"Sure," Dan said. "Go with that. Is that also why you haven't returned my phone calls?"
"I just..." Alan said plaintively. "I just... I need some space. Just a little space to clear my head. Things got a little intense at my father's, I'm going through some stuff... honestly, Dan, I was going to call you, I just needed a couple more days..."
"And you couldn't shoot me an e-mail and say, 'Hey, sorry, I can't go to that thing, I need a couple days to myself, I'll call you next week'?" Dan asked. He put the pie down in his cart with slightly more force than necessary.
"I'm sorr--"
"I know," Dan snapped. "You're sorry. That's great. Does me a fat lot of good. Thanks. Why don't you give me a call when you get your shit together? That should be, what, next October?" He turned and walked two or three feet away and then froze and walked back, his hands covering his face. Alan was nearly biting through his lower lip, his hands squeezed so tightly around the handle of the cart that he was afraid of breaking either the plastic or his bones. Dan had a point. He had multiple points. In fact, he was entirely in the right and Alan was acting exactly like some of his more repugnant exes. He felt like a heel.
"Look," Dan finally said, sighing. "I like you a lot, okay? You're funny. You're easy on the eyes. You're probably the smartest guy I've ever met. When you start talking about how the universe works and what makes the Earth keep spinning, I get chills. But if I wanted to hear you talk about the universe, I could go to a lecture. You see what I'm getting at?"
Alan nodded, numbly.
"Get your shit together. Seriously. Figure this all out and give me a call."
Alan was still standing there when Dan pushed his cart away. He was still standing there when an older woman pulled up behind him and cleared her throat.
"You're blocking the muffins," she said.
"Sorry," Alan murmured, and moved on. He kept his head down, finished his shopping as quickly as he could, and cursed Laura Carter and her refusal to open her door when he had knocked earlier. If she had come with him, maybe he would have been able to avoid the situation all together.
Once he got home, he tried her again, knocking for a good two or three minutes until he was sure no one would be answering. He knew he had seen her the other night, and wherever she had disappeared to, it wasn't New Jersey. He tried to peer into her window, but the shades were drawn and he was starting to feel a little like a stalker. Plus, the longer he stayed outside, the better the chance of one of his less desirable neighbors noticing that he was home. With a final look, he went back to his own building and up the stairs to his apartment. He was looking forward to spending the rest of the night drinking and feeling sorry for himself. Getting his life together could wait one more night.