phone post

[orangetoughguy]

"Motherfucker, I'm trying to watch The Lost Boys."

☎ CALL
☏ VOICEMAIL
✏ TEXT
✉ NETWORK

Comments

[signatures]

[ Eames has spent enough time on his youth on the back of bikes to know how to shift when Orange's taking a turn, to look over his shoulder through it, not wiggle too much, so on and so forth. He pops his helmet off, peering at the diner before shrugging mildly. ]

Maybe something lighter than the fries.

[orangetoughguy]

Sure.

[He bets on Eames ordering the fries after his 'lighter appetizer' hehe. Helmet off and keys pocketed, Freddy goes on in and goes straight for a corner table. It's secluded and he can survey from this vantage point the most.]

I'm not living in a dumpster you know.

[signatures]

I know.

[ Eames plops down into his side of the booth, pulling the menu from the holder on the far side of the table. ]

But you are living alone.

[orangetoughguy]

I got people across the hall.

[Freddy shrugs. Cheesy fries and pitch black coffee for him.]

text;

[totallyinaband]

yeah well. it's not been my best ever week.

text;

[orangetoughguy]

do YOU need help?

text;

[totallyinaband]

i'm fine. we're still talking about you.

[signatures]

[ But you're unhappy, Eames considers pointing out, but only shrugs and orders himself a sub. ]

I know. Still celebrating?

text;

[orangetoughguy]

aint much to say man ive got a bed and a little fridge its safe

[But so ronery and miserable.]

[orangetoughguy]

[It's the truth, that.]

Sure, this is a long overdue chaser. [Freddy bluffs, freckled finger tapping their table to indicate 'this' being more disco fries.]

text;

[totallyinaband]

you could stop by if you wanted. i have beer and i was gonna watch blade runner.

text;

[orangetoughguy]

you want my company?

text;

[totallyinaband]

its too quiet in my place

text;

[orangetoughguy]

okay ill be there

text;

[totallyinaband]

thanks

text;

[orangetoughguy]

dont sweat it

text;

[totallyinaband]

i'll start the dvd player

[signatures]

[ The look Eames shoots him is derisively skeptical. ]

I don't get it. You weren't this super cool about it when you first left him, either. What's the difference?

[orangetoughguy]

I'm moving on that's what.

[Is it a lie when he's desperately trying to convince himself it's the truth?]

[signatures]

Then I assume you're completely moved out by now, yeah?

[orangetoughguy]

[His eyes narrow at Eames followed by a puff of breath from his pursing mouth.]

Moving out's not a snap-quick process okay.

....this text message brought to you by the power of inorganic WTFery

[shall_yield_us]

Your temptresses, your harlots, your sex workers, your tricks, your women of ill repute.

I need them.

tentacles

[orangetoughguy]

only women?

on each key

[shall_yield_us]

And one boy with a camera. The patron will want a record for his reviewing pleasure, no doubt. And an envelope for their transportation fare. And my dignity returned to me, having made the request of you.

[orangetoughguy]

they market that its called amateur porn