2019-08-23 - That's Not How You Do That
August and Itzhak discuss various things like how to not have some conversations.
IC Date: 2019-08-23
OOC Date: 2019-06-15
Location: Elm/15 Elm Street
Related Scenes: None
Plot: None
Scene Number: 1353
Later--much, much later--Itzhak slips out the back door to have a smoke. He sits in one of the injection-molded plastic chairs, tosses lighter and cigarette pack on the injection-molded plastic table. Finally it's cooler, which is extra nice because he's been awful warm the last few hours.
Barefoot, shirtless, wearing only shorts, he lights up, stretches out his legs, siiiighs happily as the nicotine hits.
Yeah, he's pretty sure Stephanie knew what was going on, but whaddayagonna do. He can't find it in him to care, not right now. Anyway, she probably won't throw him out.
Cigarette in the corner of his mouth, he swipes a message to August.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Christ, what a day I've had
August is lying in bed, once again not regretting the cooler temperatures to be had out in the forest after dark. He has the ceiling fan on none-the-less, and is stretched out on his bed in just a pair of boxers. A glass of homemade soda (grenadine and rhubarb bitters) sits next to him, sweating away, and he's staring blankly, thinking over the rest of the day when his phone buzzes.
"Tell me about it," he murmurs, picking up his phone.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : yeah? I watched a woman have a complete meltdown about the lack of waffles at the Waffle Shoppe.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : (they ran out of mix.)
He almost adds 'then Alexander whammied her into knocking it off', but doesn't. It feels weird and wrong to say, somehow. (Because he knows he can do that too.)
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Okay, that's way worse than my day
Itzhak finds himself trying to envision a whole grown woman having a meltdown over no waffle mix. Kids, sure, even younger adults, sure, he's had them himself. Embarrassing as hell, which was why he tries not to do that anymore.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : couldn't they just make more from, you know, regular stuff
(TXT to Itzhak) August : well now I need to hear about it.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : it was late, they usually make that stuff in batches. has to do with it not keeping past a certain timeframe for purposes of state regs. so after a timepoint they don't want to make another batch.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : it was something else.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : then we ran into some woman with the gift.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Believe you me, you will hear all about it
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Who
"Oh. Right."
(TXT to Itzhak) August : alexander was there too. the woman said her name was 'Hailey'. she was like me, and tried to feel us out. didn't get a read on me though.
He tries not to feel too smug about that, fails.
Itzhak's used to, at this point, the little jump of adrenalized jealousy in his chest when someone mentions Alexander. This time, it's not even so bad. A lot of his tension just got worked out.
But the way August texts does make him wonder.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : You doing okay? Sound a little shaky
He's better at detecting such things in text than in person.
August stares at the text from Itzhak. His fingers hover on the verge of an excuse. 'fine, it was just a long day' 'busy week ahead of me' 'didn't sleep well because of the heat' They're all even true. But they're not the reason, and he knows it.
He thinks two things simultaneously: you don't have to tell everyone everything and it will help to tell someone
(TXT to Itzhak) August : been feeling weird. you know that feeling when you think you're seeing and hearing things from then? felt like that all day. even here at home.
He stares at the last part even after he's sent the text. 'even here at home' The forest was his respite, or it should have been. And yet...
Itzhak's lip hitches up in an unconscious sneer. Reminded of 'then', that silently defiant lip curl is for both him and August. Fuck off, 'then.'
(TXT to August) Itzhak : yeah. know the feeling. you want you should not be bugged by the likes of me?
It takes August a second to reply to that text, because he's on a trip down memory lane to one of his first group therapy sessions.
"It's like being haunted," the young lieutenant had said. He'd lost part of his unit to sniper fire. "I know it's not real anymore, that it's not happening, but sometimes...I can still smell it. And then I hear it. And then I'm just there."
He blinks, glances at his phone. "No that's not how I work," he murmurs, swiping out a response.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : would rather be bugged than not. your turn. how was your day better than a meltdown over waffles or being creeped on by a random person.
Itzhak taps the ash off into the ashtray he keeps religiously clean. "You want some distracting, I got distracting for ya," he mutters, grinning to himself.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : first time with Izzy
August smiles to himself, resettles in the bed. "About time."
(TXT to Itzhak) August : that's excellent, you two are good together
(TXT to Itzhak) August : so a gentleman never tells, of course.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : but on a scale of it was fine to I may never recover
(TXT to August) Itzhak : you're gonna have to get me drunk for those kinds of details
(TXT to August) Itzhak : that said, I might be crazy about her
"Oh is that all it's going to take?"
(TXT to Itzhak) August : drunk is entirely doable.
As he's swiping out a response August pauses, frowns. What had he just heard?
He listens to the whisper of the ceiling fan, the Wikshah in the distance, the insects and frogs. It makes the rest of his response take longer than it should.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : found a nice elderflower vodka the other day, been meaning to try it.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : that's great. are you going to make it a thing or just casual? (or did you not have that talk)
(TXT to August) Itzhak : nice, I volunteer as tribute to help you drink it
Itzhak notices the different rhythm of August's texts. How can he figure that out when he can't figure out a girl wants to give him a lap dance? Some mysteries may never be solved.
But he ignores it. August doesn't want to talk about that, no problem. He'll fill his phone for him.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : didn't have that talk. Had a couple other ones
(TXT to August) Itzhak : didn't have to have the 'I'm bi' talk, since I asked Alexander out at the same time. go me
(TXT to August) Itzhak : had to have the 'no good at monogamy' talk
"Honestly I don't know which of those is harder..."
(TXT to Itzhak) August : oh that one. well better to get it out of the way early.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : I assume it went though? I mean, considering
(TXT to Itzhak) August : went okay, that is
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Well
(TXT to August) Itzhak : eventually it was okay
(TXT to August) Itzhak : yesterday my buddy Bex climbed in my lap and told me she wants it rough
(TXT to August) Itzhak : She said she don't want to date
(TXT to August) Itzhak : As in we will NOT be dating or involved or anything
(TXT to August) Itzhak : ....just wants me to come over sometimes
August's face goes on a journey as he reads this next set of texts. It's like watching one of those videos where something truly awe-inspiring happens; he feels his expression morph from confused to surprised, and is certain what's coming next will only escalate things.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : that's a perfectly good reason to need to have that talk
As he swipes out a message, he murmurs, "Please tell me you didn't lead with, 'So there's this other chick who wants me to rail her now and then', you didn't do that, right?"
(TXT to Itzhak) August : was she not sure about the whole poly situation then or what
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Kind of hard to say? She knows I've been a little bit pining after Alexander this whole time
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Did I mention his girl's name is Isabella by the way and she's an archaeologist. Already better than me in about fifty ways
(TXT to August) Itzhak : anyway so I told her that and that I'm just like that because my brain is broken and I can't do anything right
Itzhak lifts his eyes from the phone, frowning.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : We had to talk about it in the link.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : an archaeologist is just another field academic.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : hell I'm a field academic
(TXT to Itzhak) August : p sure this doesn't make be better than you in 50 ways
But then Itzhak is still texting, and the facial journey continues. August stares at his phone, going from concerned, to alarmed (this is the part of the video where it's in slow mo and the disaster unfolds in glorious detail).
"Christ..."
(TXT to Itzhak) August : told her that, as in, the other chick wants to ride you like a bronco now and again?
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Are you kidding, you're completely better than me
(TXT to August) Itzhak : yeah told her that. not with the bronco part. With the friends with benefits part
Itzhak's eyebrows go up. "...Oh."
(TXT to August) Itzhak : in hindsight, maybe I screwed that up
...now comes the denial, and finally, exasperated resignation. August rubs a hand over his face. "Well hey you didn't use 'rail' in the conversation, right? Small victories."
He doesn't send that, though.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : a little, yes.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : for future reference
(TXT to Itzhak) August : on the off chance you need to have this conversation again, with someone else
(TXT to Itzhak) August : that's not how you want to open
(TXT to Itzhak) August : in fact you can leave out the 'she just wants me to fuck her brains out, nothing serious' part, it's not what you would call salient to the conversation and will not produce the reassuring vibe you're aiming at regardless
(TXT to Itzhak) August : great news though she's obviously into you because otherwise that would have been a deal breaker.
Can August see Itzhak's wincing blushing cringe from there? He's practically glowing red, tucking his legs under the chair to pull in on himself.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : uh. yeah. yeah I see that now.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : She got upset
(TXT to August) Itzhak : I didn't think. first boyfriend already was banging a bunch of other guys. he told me exactly like that. "hi I've got four other boyfriends is that cool", you know
(TXT to August) Itzhak : and, tbh, he was the only kind of real relationship I ever had. I had one more, kind of, before I blew it
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Just dated around since then, hooked up, nobody really cared
(TXT to August) Itzhak : God knows Bex doesn't care
(TXT to August) Itzhak : turns out Izzy cares though.
August sighs. Well that would explain it. If that was Itzhak's first experience in this arena, small wonder he'd (accidentally) wind up doing the same sort of thing. "If course she does," he says under his breath.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : that sucks, re: your first boyfriend. dick move on his part. hooking up is fine and all but sooner or later some tlc is a good thing. sounds like you and Isolde for together for that real well.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : and hey now you know, for future people, to do this differently, shall we say.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : well now I feel like a real schmuck
Oh boy does he ever.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : this is no surprise that I'm a complete idiot, just
(TXT to August) Itzhak : guess I never thought anybody could care that much, not anymore
(TXT to August) Itzhak : care for fucking me, sure, care for...the rest of me? maybe not so much
Itzhak stubs out the cigarette, exhales smoke into the cool night. He thinks. Then types.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : you know what she said to me? she said she's never met anyone like me before.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : that I have a huge heart and
Well, shit. No, he's not going to cry. Maybe a little.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : she wants me however she can have me. jesus I really am a schmuck
August sighs at all of that, rubs at his eyes. He wonders, for a moment, if he should reach out to Itzhak like he has before. He's not sure it's a good idea; his mind's in a difficult place. He doesn't want Itzhak exposed to any of that. He has his own hell to grapple with.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : she's right about that.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : anyways do you think a woman like her would be with a schmuck? give her some credit.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : also I like to think I'm not friends with schmucks so give ME some credit.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : you made a mistake. but hey, you both figured it out, and now you know. you didn't do it out of malice.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : point is, stop thinking of yourself as a not valuable person.
Itzhak sniffs and rubs his nose.
I'm NOT valuable, though, is what he wants to say back, and won't. I'm good for not much else besides fixin' stuff and having a hard-on. That's why I'm out here in the first place and sooner or later you're gonna figure that out. Me, forget me, but if Ma and Naoshka and Mireleh are okay with what I can give 'em...
Yeah, he won't say that. August would scold him for it. Rightfully so, sittin' around feeling sorry for himself. What's he got to be sorry about? He just got to make love to a wonderful girl. Let's go back to that. Talking to August can be so damn emotional. Guy has a way of unstopping all his stopped pipes. Okay, weird analogy.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : the joke here is "but you're friends with de santos", I just want to get that out of the way
(TXT to Itzhak) August : I see you're attempting to put me in the position of defending him. well played. but consider: he had me grow a bird cage so he could get Finch a canary and have it be in one of those fancy, old-fashioned bird cages.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : also I can hear you thinking 'I'm not actually valuable' from clear across town so stop. accept that I'm right about everything.
August pauses there, listening again to the sounds around him. He keeps thinking he's hearing something. Something it took him years to stop hearing: crying.
No. It's just the ceiling fan. He sighs, resolves to make an appointment first thing in the morning.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : so this double date. what did we have in mind. picnic? it might not even end in tragedy.
"Jesus, Roen, shut the hell up," Itzhak mutters, flushing again.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Don't call me out like this, you old yenta
(TXT to August) Itzhak : you grew a bird cage? why is there not pictures. With the canary. the canary is now our grandchild I hope you realize
(TXT to August) Itzhak : I agreed to go on a double date picnic with Alexander and his girl. whoo boy you can tell how much I'm looking forward to that
Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID heart of his, chasing after what it can't have. Not a goddamn ounce of sense.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : people want to take me on a lot of picnics. I have now officially been on more picnics than the last ten years in NYC
(TXT to August) Itzhak : traditionally I'm used to a lot more tiny punk-folk shows
"That just means you know I'm right," August sing-songs to himself.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : p sure that's what old yentas do
(TXT to Itzhak) August : you absolutely do NOT want to know what my phone insisted on replacing 'yenta' with
He grunts at the bit about Alexander's girlfriend. Well, it was inevitable.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : just remember to focus on Isolde
(TXT to Itzhak) August : you're there for her too
(TXT to Itzhak) August : if you get wrapped up focusing on Isabella you're just going to do something you'll regret
August had been there, done that. A few times, because it took him a while to understand what was happening. "Here's hoping he listens."
(TXT to Itzhak) August : unfortunately the music festivals are all up in Seattle
(TXT to Itzhak) August : that could make a fun trip, though. those are mostly in May--Northwest Folk Life, all of those.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : alternative we can find a cool place to go eat.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : second alternative we pick a place and I cook (if it's not 900 degrees)
(TXT to August) Itzhak : just promise me you'll call me with a fake emergency 40 minutes or so in
(TXT to August) Itzhak : this, by the way, is why I wreck everything after a few dates. seriously you ain't seen nothing yet. here I have the unique opportunity to ruin my friendship with Alexander and my whatever-this-is with Izzy at the same time!
(TXT to August) Itzhak : so let's ...have you cook. Not at my place and not at Izzy's place. I have no room and they have nothing to cook WITH over there. I swear I don't know how the two of them eat
Itzhak's grinning ruefully to himself.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : we gotta go to Seattle one of these days, you bet. Never been to El Corazon, it's a legend
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Izzy wants to find a jazz place and go dancing. She has no idea how to dance. She's so adorable
(TXT to August) Itzhak : am I gushing? I'm gushing
(TXT to August) Itzhak : I can teach her, anyway
He sends the messages rapidly, then slows down, thinking. Always with the thinking.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Something else she said was that I'm soft. can you believe that?
(TXT to Itzhak) August : fake emergency no problem. I'll even make the text legit.
August pauses a second. Given their lives lately, what were the chances it wouldn't actually be fake?
(TXT to Itzhak) August : hopefully it will actually BE fake but bear in mind that it might not.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : we'll see if Ellie won't mind. her kitchen's fine. my place is fine except she has a problem with the forest so I try not to ask her to go out there too much right now. but you two should come out here to check it out at any rate.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : don't think of it as a chance to ruin things. think of it as a chance to NOT do that. (but as a failsafe I will text you at the appointed time.)
August reads the next texts and has to pause a moment. "Oh man, Off Ramp." He sets his phone down and lies back, stares up at the fan. It's been ages since he's thought of that. How many shows had they gone to back then? It had been the number one thing to do in grad school, before he began all his internships and his thesis work. Aaron and Jorge, what were they up to now? Did they still have that little place on Queen Anne or had they been priced out?
(TXT to Itzhak) August : you're taking me back. we loved that place, me and the guys I lived with in grad school. five of us in a house on Eastlake under the I-5 bridge. noisy as fuck I slept with earplugs most of the time, but it was dirt cheap, bus right to campus, and the club was right there.
Now who's gushing. He makes himself stop.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : gushing is not only acceptable but encouraged. she has good taste in men and music then, I love jazz. I wonder if there's a good club any closer than Oakland, though.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : of course I can. you've got lemondrop, what kind of guy who can't be soft has a pet like that.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : hah. Most people don't see a 15 foot long python and think the owner must be a real teddy bear
(TXT to August) Itzhak : you know, that actually sounds like it was pretty awesome. Sounds a lot like home, even.
He almost missed that August said Izzy has good taste in men, and hmpfs, scowling and smirking at the same time.
The back door slides open. Itzhak whips half around in the chair, fighting to stop himself even as he does it. Nobody's coming up behind him to fuck with him, that was a long time ago. And yet the adrenaline heats his muscles, sizzles in his veins.
Hunter stands there in his sleep shirt, rubbing his eyes.
"Hunter. What are you doing up, your ma's gonna plotz." Itzhak's staring at him, heartrate up, breathing fast. Only Hunter, only him, do NOT lose your shit Itzil do NOT.
"I had a bad dream," Hunter mumbles. He's so calm when he's mostly asleep. So cute, with all that silky white blonde hair. Dumb kid. "Can you sing to me?"
So Itzhak told himself when he moved in that he wasn't going to use Philly and Hunter as replacements for Mireleh. And what's he supposed to do now? Not sing to him? Not get way too attached? He should tell him to wake Stephanie...but he can't make himself do that either. She's so tired all the time.
This kid isn't his responsibility. This family isn't his family, isn't his responsibility.
"Okay," he says, forcing himself to take in one deep breath after another, slow and steady. "One song."
"Mmkay." Hunter puts his arms around his neck, all sweet with sleep.
Fuck.
(TXT to August) Itzhak : Kid woke up, gotta go
"Kid?" August squints at his phone. Isolde doesn't have a kid, does she?
"Such a mysterious man you are," he says on a sigh.
(TXT to Itzhak) August : later
He sets his phone aside, lays back and stares up at the ceiling. Thinks about Seattle. (Not Sarajevo.)
Tags: august itzhak social