Can’t You See I’m Trying? I Don’t Even Like It
Can’t You See I’m Trying? I Don’t Even Like It
The store was empty, just needed a tumbleweed to pass through to put the nail in the coffin on its death. No last-minute movie check out for some clueless boyfriend or desperate creep hoping to charm Steve into unlocking the ‘Employee Only’ backroom. It was just Steve and the sound of unwinded tapes.
Don't say a prayer for me now
Save it till the morning after
No, don't say a prayer for me now
Save it till the morning after
Steve tapped his hands against his knee along to the moody synth. Half slumped against the glass counter and the register, his other hand sorting through the bag of m&m’s that sat in his lap,
Green, brown, brown, red, blue, yellow,
He hardly let the yellow ones sit, popped one into his mouth periodically, because they were his favorites, because he believed his whole life they were lucky. After a while, he picks at the blue ones he always saved for Robin, a small pinch of his brows as he did, even if they all taste the same. The distinction does nothing to ease him: it’s stupid, he’s stupid.
His palms rub against the plane of his cheeks, he’s plagued and lethargic. Held hostage by his own hand, obsessed with making himself miserable. It’s Jonathan’s face that etches against his vision.
The smoke trailing in the room, his hands tangled against his scalp. It was one of those forbidden things. Yelling ‘bomb’ in an airport, but no one stopped him.
He exhaled through his nose in an attempt to somehow tell the universe to break the monotony. At least when Robin where here he could attempt to make sense of it.
The shame twists all too familiar, craving something tangible only to recoil in fear of the tenderness and the endless depth of his own desire.
It was raw, insultingly apparent Steve was the frightened empty child who takes he’d always been.
The door swings open in a rush of the chilled air. Hawkins always had that cloudy way about it. Without even lifting his head to look he can sense it; nerdy desperation.
The bell jingles twice and Steve has to suppress a groan. Dustin Henderson and Michael Wheeler stumble inside like a pack of dogs, fleas making them jumpy.
“Steve thank god–”
“No.” Steve interrupts, Dustin was half-yelling and and far too wide-eyed in that way when he’s thought up a plan not properly sewn together that only bites at Steve’s giving hand.
“We just need to rent something–one–just one tape. Please–” Mike chimes in, already charting a course on the section to the far right of the counter, an ugly alien hanging off the banner that read ‘Sci-Fi’
Mike lacking any grace snatches the tape off the shelf as though it was a goddamn emergency.
“I’m not gonna swallow any more receipts and punch in fake numbers for your kids, I’m killing trees here.” Steve begins in another form of ‘no’, stretching out his opposition, nearly savoring the grumbled argument of half yelling between the two.
Dustin groans, theatric as ever. “We just need to rent this goddamn tape–like right now.” Steve inspects the tape practically shoved up Dustin’s shirt, the sleeve was half curled, Steve wanted to rip his hair out. He’d have to hold a hair dryer to the paper to smooth it out and tape it down to get it back to proper condition.
“Yeah, nice try. I’m not losing my job over Weird Science. Kiss Kelly LeBrock goodbye.” Steve huffs a laugh.
“That’s alright–we have backups,” Mike says far too proud as he smacks Escape From New York onto the counter. God how could Steve forget, fake first choice, he invented it.
“Kurt Russell..” Steve glances at the back, a brow raised awaiting a reason to deny. “...you need to see this guy sweating around New York?” Dustin scoffs in that insulted kind of way that Steve usually lives for.
“Yeah well, Will said it’s the only movie he wanted to watch.” Steve sucks the air through his teeth, a fake out, and the Will card in one night. He almost applauded the dedication.
“One night Henderson. One night, I want it back rewinded to completion, no scratches or I’m charging you for all your late fees in one fold.” The dog pack cheers, rushing out. The bell rings relentlessly again as the door shuts behind them.