[ota] DJ Shuffle: Everyday a little sadder, a little madder. Someone get me a ladder?

[dj_shuffle]

All day long, there's been rather depressing music playing on Shuffle's secret station. Songs admitting defeat, songs about regret. Occasionally, there'll be the crackle of a microphone being turned on...and then silence.

He doesn't know how to say it.

He needs to, though.

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[maskofhearts]

Hadyn doesn't normally call in to, well, anything. He didn't even normally listen, but today the stage crew had left the radio on after complaining it was all just a bunch of sad 'shit' and walking off.

So Hadyn stared, and frowned. And for a moment he scoffed and thought it was stupid to be pleading like that where everyone could hear. But when he went to turn the radio off, he hesitated- frowning a little more before chewing at his lip. He could, he supposed, relate. To the mother, not to the anonymous speaker.

So he called, picking up the radio and turning it off before hiding it so no one else could find it. And as the phone rang, Hadyn made his way up into out a side down in the back and lit a cigarette.

[dj_shuffle]

"Hullo?" His voice is a bit hoarser than it was on-air, and it quivers just a hint. He tries not to show how scared he is, that he's reached the end of his ability to help her. But the fact he said anything at all, that really...that said everything, didn't it?

[maskofhearts]

"Take her to the hospital." Hadyn said a bit unceremoniously. It wasn't meant to sound so blunt or harsh, but he didn't know how else to say it really. "Take her there and let them help her. And you." It was the sane, answer, at least.

[dj_shuffle]

It's so simple an answer, too simple really. He lets out a harsh sound that might have been meant to be a laugh in some aborted thought process that didn't make its way to rationality.

"Have to convince her to go, for that."

That's almost an excuse. He knew ways to trick her into the car--the cruelest was telling her they were going to go see his father.

Teddy's father was almost four years dead, now.

[a_sudden_change]

Diane still didn't know as much about the Deck as she'd like, but she'd found the local Deck radio station soon enough and taken to listening to DJ Shuffle's show. Today's rather depressing music was intriguing enough to make her wonder what had set him off and then when he'd spoken she'd ended up picking up the phone.

"You know...it's okay to not be able to manage someone like this. It's not easy for someone who isn't trained to it. Maybe even nearly impossible, in the long-term."

Pause.

"But don't you people have something like that here?"

Were there really all these crazy people with no mentally therapeutic assistance?

[dj_shuffle]

"You talk like a new arrival." He speaks with a chuckle that has no humor. "I've been on-Deck six years, enough to see that 'we people' have trouble getting shrinks to stay. They retire, they leave, they decide they can't put up with all this shit."

[a_sudden_change]

"Yeah, I'm pretty new. Still figuring this stuff out. Guess finding outside help is a bit out of the question right now."

She guesses asking if he's talked to his Faces about his problem that he'd just laugh at that too.

[somuchheart]

There's no knock at the door. Blythe lets herself in, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for good measure. For a couple of moments, there's just silence.

When she speaks, it's not with the gentle voice of a friend. It's with the to-the-point shortness of an Ace. "How long?"

[dj_shuffle]

And that shortness brings his guard up and his snark out. "I'm not sure I know what you mean, your Ace-ness. How long has my mother suffered from some form of depression? Since before we arrived at the Deck. How long have I been trying to support her by myself, take care of her by myself? Since my father was killed in a challenge, almost four years ago. How long have I been feeling like I'm unable to handle it all by myself? God, I wish I knew."

And he never brought it to her. He didn't think she would have time to help him with his personal life, of course. He'd only talked to her about what the Suit needed, what the Deck needed. What she needed, the day she was made Ace.

[somuchheart]

"Mr. Chambers, could you shut up for a moment so that I could ask you a question?" She snaps, dragging one hand through her hair. "Do I have a face that people don't trust? I am the Ace of Hearts. I am here to support every single Heart and somehow in the past couple of days, it has been pointed out to me that I am doing a shit job." She lets out a huff of a breath, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

The anger seems to have evaporated as quickly as it came, leaving a slightly forlorn tone to her voice as she goes on. "You can trust me. I'm here for you. You can tell me things like this, sweetie. You're not alone."

[dj_shuffle]

He stares at the laptop he uses for queuing songs rather than looking at her. "You already had a secret to hold over me. I wasn't going to give you another."

Because in his twisted, suspicious thorny hedge of a teenage mind, he feared giving someone else power in his life like that, like asking for help would. He didn't trust anyone to take over, after this long. Especially not someone with the level of authority Blythe carried, but never acknowledged.

But here she is, telling him she wants to help, telling him she feels like she's doing a shit job because she wasn't aware. As much as he wants to think it's all true, he's cautious, afraid what she might do next.

He does the only thing he can: start crying again, overwhelmed with conflicting, chaotic emotions. He turns in his chair to put his back to her, not wanting to see pity, or that confusing anger on her face again.