![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Feb. 18th, 2016
"Should I stay or should I go?"
Feb. 18th, 2016 06:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truthrunswildWho: Finlay Bennett and Reecy Chester
What: Probably should be an awkward moment
Where: Walker's home, Brooklyn
When: Wednesday afternoon
Fin hated his new school. It was big and had very quickly felt like it was full of assholes. He didn't think it was because it was a private school, but he seemed to have rubbed up a group of rich kids the wrong way by just existing and probably being basic. Monday had been his first day, and it had sucked. These kids had zeroed him out, teasing him, taunting him, calling him names ('Cletus, the Slack-Jawed Yokel', thanks to The Simpsons). When he got home that night and his dad asked him how school went, he had just said 'Fine'. He ate dinner, took a shower and went to bed, saying he was tired because it was a big day.
Tuesday, he was dreading going back. He hoped Monday had just been an isolated incident because it was his first day and they might get tired of picking on him. No such luck, and he had more classes with them... and his favourite subject, he was with them and no one else he had made friends with was in the class with him. He was miserable and ended up trying to fight back tears on the train ride home. He was so badly homesick and he wanted his mom. He felt useless and stupid for feeling any of that too. He just wanted to go home, back to Arkansas but he was stuck here.
Now, Wednesday and gym class had been the worst of all. The guys, all football and basketball players, cornered him in the locker room. Fin tried his best to get them to tell him what their problem with him was, but what it culminated in was them pranking him by yanking his gym pants and boxers down, being left standing there half naked in front of everyone. In his hurry to try to pull the back up, the leader of the asshole pack kicked the back of his knee and cause Fin to fall over with his pants down around his ankles. It was awful. Fin just grabbed his stuff (after getting his pants pulled back up) and bolted out of class... and out of the school. He ditched the rest of his classes and found himself seriously considering running away from home just get away from this horrible place.
In the end, after sitting in the subway bawling his eyes out, he tried to call his dad. It went straight to voicemail. His dad and Walker had managed to get the afternoon off together and were going to have a date or something. The home phone number didn't pick up either. He took a chance and found the note his dad had put on his phone with some emergency contact information for people in New York if he ever needed help, and Walker's name, phone number, and address were at the top. That was how Fin came to be standing at Walker's front door ringing the doorbell. It was a brownstone house and not an apartment, in a really nice street too. Fin hoped like hell his dad was here so he could talk to him, before the school realised he ditched and tried to contact him.
What: Probably should be an awkward moment
Where: Walker's home, Brooklyn
When: Wednesday afternoon
Fin hated his new school. It was big and had very quickly felt like it was full of assholes. He didn't think it was because it was a private school, but he seemed to have rubbed up a group of rich kids the wrong way by just existing and probably being basic. Monday had been his first day, and it had sucked. These kids had zeroed him out, teasing him, taunting him, calling him names ('Cletus, the Slack-Jawed Yokel', thanks to The Simpsons). When he got home that night and his dad asked him how school went, he had just said 'Fine'. He ate dinner, took a shower and went to bed, saying he was tired because it was a big day.
Tuesday, he was dreading going back. He hoped Monday had just been an isolated incident because it was his first day and they might get tired of picking on him. No such luck, and he had more classes with them... and his favourite subject, he was with them and no one else he had made friends with was in the class with him. He was miserable and ended up trying to fight back tears on the train ride home. He was so badly homesick and he wanted his mom. He felt useless and stupid for feeling any of that too. He just wanted to go home, back to Arkansas but he was stuck here.
Now, Wednesday and gym class had been the worst of all. The guys, all football and basketball players, cornered him in the locker room. Fin tried his best to get them to tell him what their problem with him was, but what it culminated in was them pranking him by yanking his gym pants and boxers down, being left standing there half naked in front of everyone. In his hurry to try to pull the back up, the leader of the asshole pack kicked the back of his knee and cause Fin to fall over with his pants down around his ankles. It was awful. Fin just grabbed his stuff (after getting his pants pulled back up) and bolted out of class... and out of the school. He ditched the rest of his classes and found himself seriously considering running away from home just get away from this horrible place.
In the end, after sitting in the subway bawling his eyes out, he tried to call his dad. It went straight to voicemail. His dad and Walker had managed to get the afternoon off together and were going to have a date or something. The home phone number didn't pick up either. He took a chance and found the note his dad had put on his phone with some emergency contact information for people in New York if he ever needed help, and Walker's name, phone number, and address were at the top. That was how Fin came to be standing at Walker's front door ringing the doorbell. It was a brownstone house and not an apartment, in a really nice street too. Fin hoped like hell his dad was here so he could talk to him, before the school realised he ditched and tried to contact him.
"How will I know?"
Feb. 18th, 2016 06:57 pmnessundormaWho: Matteo and Dani Lorenzi
What: Trying to fit
Where: Dani's apartment, NYC
When: Wednesday night
Matteo was exhausted. He had spent the last two days doing media and PR, which meant being 100% on the ball and immaculate at all times. It wasn't often people would see him anything but fashionable, but that night he was lying on Dani's sofa in a pair of sweats, a Cars t-shirt Benny had given him for Christmas, his hair flopping all over the place because he hadn't bothered to style it after his shower and he was staring aimlessly at the TV flicking through the Netflix options. His tired brain just wasn't really finding anything he wanted to watch. It all felt like too much effort.
Dani had been pleased to hear he was now taking a few days off to rest in the lead up to his tour. At this moment, all he could think about was getting plenty of sleep. He would just likely end up bored not even half a day into his days off like he always did. He would end up at the gym, or shopping on Fifth Avenue. He hadn't done any sightseeing this trip because he was trying to convince him every other hour that he wasn't a tourist. He had plenty to keep him busy, but he had let himself fall into a bit of a funk. Could he make New York home? He still didn't know.
Dani had been getting Benny bathed and ready for bed. When she came back into the living room, she had a cuppa for both of them. He had to get himself sitting up more to be able to accept it. "Grazie, sorella. You didn't have to do this. You've had a busy day too and you already cooked dinner."
What: Trying to fit
Where: Dani's apartment, NYC
When: Wednesday night
Matteo was exhausted. He had spent the last two days doing media and PR, which meant being 100% on the ball and immaculate at all times. It wasn't often people would see him anything but fashionable, but that night he was lying on Dani's sofa in a pair of sweats, a Cars t-shirt Benny had given him for Christmas, his hair flopping all over the place because he hadn't bothered to style it after his shower and he was staring aimlessly at the TV flicking through the Netflix options. His tired brain just wasn't really finding anything he wanted to watch. It all felt like too much effort.
Dani had been pleased to hear he was now taking a few days off to rest in the lead up to his tour. At this moment, all he could think about was getting plenty of sleep. He would just likely end up bored not even half a day into his days off like he always did. He would end up at the gym, or shopping on Fifth Avenue. He hadn't done any sightseeing this trip because he was trying to convince him every other hour that he wasn't a tourist. He had plenty to keep him busy, but he had let himself fall into a bit of a funk. Could he make New York home? He still didn't know.
Dani had been getting Benny bathed and ready for bed. When she came back into the living room, she had a cuppa for both of them. He had to get himself sitting up more to be able to accept it. "Grazie, sorella. You didn't have to do this. You've had a busy day too and you already cooked dinner."
"Always hate me."
Feb. 18th, 2016 10:35 pmburninginsideWho: Cole Carrington and Luka Zanardi
What: Gratitude is the memory of the heart
Where: Chemical Dependency Crisis/Detoxification Unit
When: Following THIS
Cole hadn't said a word throughout the whole group therapy session. He had sat there slumped in the chair, looking at his feet the whole time and not making eye contact with anyone. Possibly the most surprising thing about that was that the group sessions weren't compulsive in crisis intervention patients like he was and they weren't compulsory in this particular unit with people also being treated for mental health issues. He was here for medical treatment, not rehabilitation. It was a whole different level of intervention. But the option was there and he had taken it, and he had also asked Luka to come along. They would be flexible with Luka visiting if Cole had him listed as a guest for the group therapy sessions. Hopefully he would be able to find it in him to talk to the guy and apologise like he wanted to.
He just wouldn't be pushed in these early stages. He would be referred for more therapy sessions once his health stabilised. An already psychologically-traumatised person wouldn't be forced into anything that made them worse. Sometimes therapy could for Cole if he wasn't prepared to face it. Sometimes it worked. It was just impossible to pre-empt his days right now. He had to take the hours as they came.
The session was over, and Luka kindly offered to help him back to his room. Cole was able to walk, of course, but he was physically weakened so they wanted him transported around the hospital in a wheelchair for the time being. That included just to the other side of the unit for the therapy session. It was Luka who had wheeled him back, promising the nurse he was fine to do it. Then Cole's doctor wanted to have a chat to him, so Luka excused himself and said he would come back in a little while.
Cole realised he hadn't been expecting the guy to return at all until Luka was suddenly back and carrying a couple of hot beverages in a cup tray. He had still been sitting in the wheelchair, staring out the window. He had told the doctor he didn't want to get back into bed yet. Being in bed made him feel like an invalid, though he was beginning to wish he had because it was zapping his energy trying to get up and into bed himself. To the point he started to feel ill again, still going through the motions of the detox that seemed to take longer these days. Seeing Luka, Cole's eyes slipped closed and he gave a small shake of his head where he had been leaning on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry, I need to lie down. I'm not feeling so hot."
What: Gratitude is the memory of the heart
Where: Chemical Dependency Crisis/Detoxification Unit
When: Following THIS
Cole hadn't said a word throughout the whole group therapy session. He had sat there slumped in the chair, looking at his feet the whole time and not making eye contact with anyone. Possibly the most surprising thing about that was that the group sessions weren't compulsive in crisis intervention patients like he was and they weren't compulsory in this particular unit with people also being treated for mental health issues. He was here for medical treatment, not rehabilitation. It was a whole different level of intervention. But the option was there and he had taken it, and he had also asked Luka to come along. They would be flexible with Luka visiting if Cole had him listed as a guest for the group therapy sessions. Hopefully he would be able to find it in him to talk to the guy and apologise like he wanted to.
He just wouldn't be pushed in these early stages. He would be referred for more therapy sessions once his health stabilised. An already psychologically-traumatised person wouldn't be forced into anything that made them worse. Sometimes therapy could for Cole if he wasn't prepared to face it. Sometimes it worked. It was just impossible to pre-empt his days right now. He had to take the hours as they came.
The session was over, and Luka kindly offered to help him back to his room. Cole was able to walk, of course, but he was physically weakened so they wanted him transported around the hospital in a wheelchair for the time being. That included just to the other side of the unit for the therapy session. It was Luka who had wheeled him back, promising the nurse he was fine to do it. Then Cole's doctor wanted to have a chat to him, so Luka excused himself and said he would come back in a little while.
Cole realised he hadn't been expecting the guy to return at all until Luka was suddenly back and carrying a couple of hot beverages in a cup tray. He had still been sitting in the wheelchair, staring out the window. He had told the doctor he didn't want to get back into bed yet. Being in bed made him feel like an invalid, though he was beginning to wish he had because it was zapping his energy trying to get up and into bed himself. To the point he started to feel ill again, still going through the motions of the detox that seemed to take longer these days. Seeing Luka, Cole's eyes slipped closed and he gave a small shake of his head where he had been leaning on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry, I need to lie down. I'm not feeling so hot."
[FACEBOOK]
Feb. 18th, 2016 10:56 pmtattoosonthistownDoesn't matter how old your kid is. Seeing them with IV needles in their arms sucks.