第5: esteemed emily #1 (voice)

[unfollowing]

[The few "letters" Emily has received since graciously offering her services as an advice-giver are, as expected, shit. Hell, two of them aren't even real requests, just her idiot friends being idiots (in the best way, she misses when it was always like this, simple, harmless, fun). The one actually serious one is about as bad as she'd thought she'd get from the hopeless disasters in this cave, so hey. This isn't bad.

Honestly, the hardest part about this is deciding what format to do this in. Finally, on the morning of the 21st, she decides to just get this shit done. At least one idiot out there needs her help. She doesn't want to video this (mostly because she doesn't want to work with the shitty makeup here, come on, she knows what cameras do to you), but text won't convey her message quite well enough, so. Voice it is.]

I'm just going to dive right into this. I got three submissions. I'm going to read them off one at a time and answer each before I go to the next one. These are supposed to be anonymous, so try not to be such assholes that you out someone if you figure out who they are.

Unless they're obviously trolling, which-- well. You'll see.

Here goes.

First up is this fucking gem [heavy is the sarcasm in Esteemed Emily's voice]:

Esteemed Emily,

I have a friend who is a total nerd but in complete denial about it, even though she's getting nerdier by the day and soon may surpass even me in the nerd ways. What should I do to help her accept her true self and her destiny?

Signed,
I'm locking my door so don't bother coming down here

[There's a pause where Emily sighs quietly, but even in the relative silence, it's exceedingly clear how unimpressed she is.] Chris, you're an idiot. You wish I were a nerd, just so you could claim you're cool by association with me. Newsflash: you aren't. Code yourself an app that'll run through some formulas or whatever to help you get the fuck over the fact that you will always and forever be the second nerdiest person I know.

Second, an actual question:

So say an opinionated girl made out with the local teenage girl hater. She's fairly conflicted about the whole thing. What should she do?

-Opinionated Girl

I'm guessing you're a teenage girl, so my first thought is, why the fuck did you make out with someone who hates you? Do you hate yourself too?

[NOBODY can guess who the local teenage girl hater is, right? Jesus fucking Christ.]

Seriously, I don't know what the fuck to tell you. Like, we all make mistakes, [she's thinking about Mike] but... like why are you conflicted here. He hates you. Was he that good that you want to hate makeout and maybe hatefuck? That's up to you, but if it were me, I would punch him in the balls and move on unless he changes his ways. Please fucking love yourself. Or at least be safe, goddamn.

[Another pause for breath. Christ. Dealing with hopeless people is hard.]

Finally, the best of the litter [again with the sarcasm]:

hey em i got this friend who likes giving people advice but im clearly better at giving advice i never steer anyone wrong

how do i take her job

Do I even need to tell you how wrong you are? Idiot. Besides, nobody's stopping you from starting Jolly Josh or whatever. No, you know what? Stick to shitposting. You've got that down to a science.

[Another pause, another sigh, and (if you listen very closely) a very dramatic eyeroll.]

Look, just stop being disasters, all right? There's like five of you that have come to me asking for dating advice already. Just talk to the person you like. If you want to fuck them, ask them. If you want to hold hands, ask them. If you want to just be best goddamn friends with them, ask them.

That's literally it. Stop being morons.

Goddamn.

[End.]

Comments

[unitas]

[ Sharon reaches out to gently press her palm against his shoulder, awkward given her preference for personal space, but she's not sure how else to offer comfort. It's not like she's got a wealth of friendship/rival advice under her belt, just a lonely high school experience, but she wants to help.

Even if she can't understand. ]

It's a good thing, right? It would be stupid of you to pretend it didn't matter. The only thing I think you can do is accept it.

[torrefied]

[It may not seem like much - just a hand on his shoulder - but for Mello, such a gesture is more meaningful than he can accurately express with words. He doesn't typically seek out comfort, because he has needed for so much of his life to be self-sufficient in all things where possible, and asking for comfort means admitting to weakness.

But he wasn't born into the life he eventually chose. Distant memories stir from far corners of his mind, instances from early childhood where touch and comfort were a normal response. Maybe it's because everything feels too sharp under the tumultuous reordering of Mello's worldview, thanks to Near's admission, but this small thing, a hand on his shoulder, a reminder of the time before he was molded into a problem-solving machine and was allowed to be human - it stops his breath in the back of his throat and pulls his focus forward, out of his rapidly cycling thoughts and into the stark truth of what Sharon's said. She's right; he cannot change what has already happened. The logical course of action is to accept this new reality and work within it.

Very gently, Mello reaches up and covers Sharon's hand on his shoulder with his own, a mirror gesture of solidarity.]

You're right. I don't know if it's a good thing ... but accepting it is the only thing that makes sense.

[He isn't accustomed to expressing gratitude; the words feel clumsy on his tongue, part of a language half-forgotten over time, rusty with disuse. But every time he says these words, they get a little easier to speak, and Mello has thanked Sharon more in the short span of time that he's known her than the rest of his life since he was a very small child.]

... Thank you, Sharon.

[unitas]

[ Beneath his hand, her fingers tense: a moment where she resists the urge to pull her hand back suddenly. Her heart pounds a little more loudly in her ears, something sweet, and warm, and decidedly uncomfortable pulsing through her. Embers of something, something she fears may start a wildfire.

She wants to stamp them out, but settles for swallowing back the thick feelings in her throat as he expresses his gratitude. She smiles, a little uncomfortable, too acutely aware of herself now. It's as if all the little things are a hundred, or a thousand, or a billion times more important. ]

It's what friends are for. [ The words come out several moments late, and they feel heavy on her tongue. She squeezes his shoulder, and then slips her hand out from beneath his, pulling both of her hands into her lap; a part of her wishes she'd lingered another moment longer. ]

[torrefied]

[She's right about that, too. Mello may only have a tenuous grasp on what friendship is, but he does recognize the truth of what she says, that friendship is about mutual support, about understanding, about knowing that there is someone in a world that is often harsh and nonsensical who will help you find true north. That's why after his network of resources had been demolished, Mello turned to Matt.

... Right, Matt. His friend, who had been killed in the course of helping Mello abduct Takada. Maybe it hasn't happened yet for Mello, but he still feels a twist of guilt deep in his gut when he thinks about it. Mello is prepared to sacrifice himself for his goals, but Matt's death is collateral damage he hadn't anticipated. He gives Sharon a thin smile.]

Are you sure you want me for a friend? I'm pretty terrible at it.

[There's a note of levity coating his words, but there's truth there, too. People who stick around him tend to end up dead.]

[unitas]

[ It's almost a question she wants to ask him in return, like if she doesn't, it will give him a chance to back out, but she doesn't. Instead, she smiles. ]

I don't think I have a choice. [ Because she already cares. Once she cares, that's it, no turning back no matter how bad it could get in the future. ] You're kind of stuck with me now, sorry.

[torrefied]

[You always have a choice, even if the choices aren't good ones - that's what Mello believes wholeheartedly. But even if Sharon doesn't phrase it as such, she has chosen him, in a way, and he understands that, intuitively, without the need for words.]

I'm not. Sorry about it, I mean.

[He decides, here and now, that if he has any say in the matter, no one will ever hurt Sharon again. Because he cares, too.]

[unitas]

[ The smile, this time, is a little wider, a little more open, a little brighter. She wants to tell him all the ways he'll be sorry because it feels like she should warn him—bad things happen to the people she cares for—but maybe he'll be the one person she can keep safe. ]

Good. [ She's pleased. Maybe they're both fuck ups, messes in suits of skin, but she likes him, and all his mess. And it seems like he likes her, and all her mess, too. That feels like a good thing. ]