I'm not — [ admitting that he's skulking around alone feels sad, and makes him even moodier than he had been five seconds ago. ] If I had a dinner partner, I wouldn't be taking any calls. I'm outside. [ smoking. drinking. skulking. ] What?
Friend of a friend who was kind of a... y'know what, it's a long story, don't worry about it. [ he coughs, and takes that coughing time to attempt putting feelings into words. and if "putting feelings into words" means "vague rambling," he sure did succeed. ] And I'm not pissed off about it! Like, who gives a fuck, right? It's the principle of... I don't fuckin' know, having somebody that likes you enough to put up with your shit forever.
So what you...think that it's bullshit? Or... [ This is overstepping, he's pretty sure, but wedding ledges are their own kind of ledge. Someone's gotta talk him down. ] ...do you think you're just not gonna find it?
[ normally this is the point at which he would detach from the conversation completely... but here he is feeling all gross and emotional. 0/10, would never recommend/ ]
Yeah. No. I mean, both? Maybe. I dunno. I've got a lot of shit to put up with. I'm not trying to... I dunno, boo-hoo-woe-is-me or whatever the fuck, I just don't think anything serious is ever gonna work for me, right? There's layers. Like... a cake.
[ Pretty gross. It would be unbearable if they weren't separated by phone. Good thing they don't have to look at each other, or it would be way too much for Quentin to mutter: ]
And I mean. You're young, dude. There's loads of time. There's...all the possibilities in the world for you.
[ If he doesn't die or kill himself. Even across the phone, that's a little too much, so Quentin sucks in a breath and pivots before Alex can complain about it too much. ]
Look, you're only there for a night. You want something else to think about?
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i'm sorry this is so late; feel free to ignore glksf;d
no worries at all!!
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Yeah. No. I mean, both? Maybe. I dunno. I've got a lot of shit to put up with. I'm not trying to... I dunno, boo-hoo-woe-is-me or whatever the fuck, I just don't think anything serious is ever gonna work for me, right? There's layers. Like... a cake.
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[ Pretty gross. It would be unbearable if they weren't separated by phone. Good thing they don't have to look at each other, or it would be way too much for Quentin to mutter: ]
And I mean. You're young, dude. There's loads of time. There's...all the possibilities in the world for you.
[ If he doesn't die or kill himself. Even across the phone, that's a little too much, so Quentin sucks in a breath and pivots before Alex can complain about it too much. ]
Look, you're only there for a night. You want something else to think about?