TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

[sanjunipero]

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

Have a little too much to drink last night and send that embarrassing text to your ex?

Did you party a little too hard and send pictures of the wild night... to all of your contacts?

Was 3am when you dusted off the number of that old flame and confessed how much you wanted them back?

Or simply catching up on the adventures that drunk you got into?

Just because heaven is a place on earth at San Junipero doesn't mean it's without any consequence. Be careful checking your phone in the morning, it might have some weird texts from last night.

MAY BE NSFW

Comments

[corve]

fuck off, shitwad

trust me. they are.

[fucking_kavinsky]

guess wat they say is true. the fire really does die down as u get older
can u stiil get it up?

naaaah

[corve]

i'm 4 fucking years older, not 40.
sure you'd love to know, wouldn't you?

[fucking_kavinsky]

4 yrs makes a big fuckin difference

dont worry, i wont even mind all that much.

there's other ways to go.

we can pretend.

[corve]

[ He's right. Four years had made a big difference. ]

no, i don't need to.
you can pretend. you're probably already pretty good at that, right?

[fucking_kavinsky]

oh good, then u can still get it up.

had me worried there for a sec

nope i'm good, was only gonna do it to help u out. but here we are, all ready set to go.

[corve]

yeah but for you?
probably not. it'll probably have the opposite effect. retreat back inside of me or something.

dude, when are you gonna quit trying? it's still not ever going to be you and me.

[fucking_kavinsky]

i see u havent grown out of your lying.
pants on fire.
man ur really putting ur dick through the ringer.

ur fuckin hilarious if u think i spent all this time pining after ur pasty white ass.
im just fuckin amused that ur dead

[corve]

who the fuck said i was lying?

what have you been spending it doing then, k? enlighten my pasty white ass.
what's so funny about it?

[fucking_kavinsky]

no one said it, dipshit, i fuckin know it.

its a party down u dense asshole, the fuck u think ive been doing
beause its like fuckn karma, sweetheart.

[corve]

you still don't know shit.

so the same shit you did back in henrietta? getting high and pining over my pasty white ass? just without any of your old fuckboy cronies.
shut the fuck up, dude. like i said, you don't know shit.

[fucking_kavinsky]

right. so u never wanted me. not even a fucking little bit. riiiiiight. i dont know shit. how does it feel to still be lyin to urself after all these years???

get over urself. u aint shit around here, bitch. i stopped giving a shit about u a long time ago. you don't matter.

oh, i know. i know plenty. but plz keep telling urself that. its fucking cute.

remember. i've been here a while now. i've got a whole new life. ur new, arent u. you'll see how fast misery hits u and i wont be there to help u this time.

[corve]

okay. you want the fucking truth, k? will that finally get you to shut the fuck up?
yeah. sure. i might have wanted you for a whole fucking second. then, you opened your fucking mouth and ruined any chance you had of that.
there could have been a you and me, but now it's ancient fucking history.

if i don't matter so much, why the hell are you still chasing me around?
you've got a whole new life here, but you're still doing the same shit you've always done. i'm not going to need your fucking help, dude. i never did.

[fucking_kavinsky]

uh huh. just like i said. like i been sayin all along.
aw, princess. so much flopping. how do u even keep ur stories straight?

ur the one still talking to me.
and ur a compulsive liar. do any of them know? u needed my help more than u ever needed anyone's help before. i saved ur fucking life, i taught u how to dream. i helped u figure out how much u liked dick.

but nah, thats cool. five years later and ur still lying to yourself. looks like ur the only one still doing the same shit you've always done.

i'm good.

come find me when u start getting so bored u wanna stab ur own eyes out

I'll give it a week.

[corve]

the story doesn't flip-flop. it's been the same all along. sorry it's not lining up perfectly with your fantasies.

you really think highly of yourself, don't you? if you think you did any of that shit for me, you're more delusional than you used to be.
It was one fucking weekend. Five fucking years ago.

[ One fucking weekend, five fucking years ago that's burned permanently into Ronan's memories. ]

fuck off, kavinsky.
lose my number.

[fucking_kavinsky]

do u even hear urself? ur a fucking joke, bitch.

one fucking weekend five years ago and i did more for u than most ppl in ur fucking life.
clearly u need to think about that, cuz u been in denial for 5 years.
u wanna erase the past, that's on u. ur the one who had to live with it all this time. u know what u did.
i give zero shits about u.

nah, u fuck off. this is my place now. u thought it was bad before, there's even less consequences for me now.
don't fuck with me, lynch. i will make this party town a living hell for u.

[corve]

you're not that damn important. get over yourself, shitbag
denial? you don't know what the hell i've been for 5 years. stop thinking that you fucking do.

if you give zero shits about me, then what the fuck are you still doing, kavinsky?

yeah. i'm really scared.

[fucking_kavinsky]

we'll see.

i'm doing whatever the fuck i want.

ur alone here. don't u fuckin forget that.

[corve]

then do whatever the fuck you want without me.

maybe you are, but i'm not.

[ At least, not everyday of the week. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[NSFW PIC MESSAGE]

[corve]

[ As much as he should have been expecting it, he nearly drops his phone at the message that arrives.

It's definitely been a while since he's seen that on the screen of his phone. ]

lose my fucking number, shitstain

[fucking_kavinsky]

see u soon, fucker.

[corve]

fuck off

[ It's sometime in the middle of the night, after hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, right on the border of dreaming but not quite there yet, when Ronan finally tosses all of his blankets off the bed, throws on a pair of fitted jeans and his typical black tanktop, and then leaves his home in silence. He walks along the beach for a while, his hands shoved into his pockets, the sound of the waves lapping at the sand acting as a soundtrack to his own thoughts.

Nights were the worst. Insomnia hadn't seemed to leave him in the afterlife and Ronan had yet to get enough sleep in the short time he'd been there to actually dream. So he stays up, he drinks, he walks on the beach, he thinks about Adam back in the "real world", about the accident and eventually about Kavinsky.

Which is, he assumes, what carries his feet all the way to the boy's house -- almost identical to his own save for a few minor details -- the white Mitsubishi from his memories parked out in front of it. Ronan stands there for a long time looking at the place, debating whether or not to just keep on walking by, turn around and head back to his own home, or trudge up the front steps and knock.

He feels like he's hit an all-time-low when Kavinsky is the one person he thinks might get him (but, somewhere, Ronan knows that he always has.) and after a heavy sigh of self-disappointment -- one that Richard Gansey III himself would have been proud of -- he climbs the few front steps and knocks at the door. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ The rest of Kavinsky's day had gone to shit, the words in those texts churning in his brain, unwilling to let him forget. He's been dousing them with alcohol ever since, spending all of his time going from one bar to another, trying to get the image of Ronan's face out of his head in the back room of the Quagmire, but nothing works.

Nothing ever worked before either, so he doesn't know why he thought any of it would change.

He hates how much Ronan still gets to him. Those few simple words 'It was never going to be you and me', splitting him open, making him angry in a way that he knows is just pure misery.

Ronan is wrong. Kavinsky doesn't want him. Kavinsky hates him.

He ends up passing out on the couch, bottle in hand and the knock to the door startles him. He's not used to people coming around at all hours like he used to be. It's harder for a dreamer to be relevant when people already get most everything they want.

Kavinsky takes a long swig of vodka to help him wake up, then pads over to the door, all drowsy eyes and wild hair, in nothing but a pair of briefs, swinging the door open.

Seeing Ronan standing there at his door, it definitely wakes him the fuck up]

Aw shit. You've got to be shitting me. Guess you really took what I said to fucking heart, huh.

[corve]

[ In the time that it takes for Kavinsky to answer the door, Ronan's gone through about a thousand different alternatives to waiting around for him. He could leave, go back to his house and continue to drown his sorrows with whiskey until he eventually passed out. He could go find some afterhours bar and distract himself until they finally kicked him out. He could walk endless laps on the beach until exhaustion finally settled in likely sometime when the sun was finally peeking over the horizon.

Inwardly he often wonders if dreamers are even supposed to sleep at night. Or if the time when all others are off in their own dreamscapes is where they rule. It would have explained his insomnia all these years, if that were the case.

The door opens and immediately Ronan's stomach drops -- though his features stay as hardened and as sharp as ever. -- his eyes very briefly roaming over Kavinsky's frame. The darkness makes all of the hollows of his features seem even more sunken and somehow chiseled, his body pale and thin, not much more than skin, bones and sinewy muscles that are all the more accentuated by the little bit of light coming from somewhere inside of Kavinsky's house. His fingers twitch somewhere inside of his pocket, jaw briefly clenching as he tries to ignore the weird mixture of emotions turning inside of him.

He shouldn't be here, this was the last place that Ronan needed to be. But, just as it always does, history finds a way to repeat itself and there he is meeting Kavinsky in secret in the middle of the night. ]

Shut the fuck up. [ Ronan grunts out, his eyes eventually returning to Kavinsky's face. ] I couldn't sleep.