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But sufficed to say Justin is not having a good time.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Trigger Warning: Mental Health concern

That's as much as I'mma put here. But sufficed to say Justin is not having a good time.", "writing": "Collared Chapter 43: Trapped\nBy TerraMGP\n\n\tNovember cold was always bitter.\n\n\tIt was an odd lesson Michigan would always teach. Only a few days ago it had climbed back up into the 50s. Now it was just below freezing again and only the dry weather kept it from snowing.\n\n\tJustin winced as he pulled himself from the warm safety of his car and into the dehydrated tundra of the Meijer parking lot. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be anywhere. But he didn’t want to starve, either. And it was slowly becoming clear that eating out all the time wasn’t going to cut it.\n\n\tThe young otter kept his paws in his pockets as long as he could. He only stopped when finding a cart that had been abandoned outside of the cart corral. Another Michigander trait. You bring in a cart. You save the people at the store a bit of work. Never mind that the mere touch of his fingers on the icy-cold metal of the cart felt like it was grating at the back of his brain. The sooner he got in, the sooner he could get warm.\n\n\tHe went for his phone on instinct. It was a regrettable action once the thing actually came out into the cold air. He thought about shoving it into the little plastic phone holder the cart sported and shoving his hand back into his pocket. But no, that was a good way to forget it. The last thing he needed was to pay for a new phone. Or worse, for people to see some of the shit he had on it. Legal or not, it would fuck with his life so hard.\n\n\t“Ok. Onion, carrot, apple, whey powder, 2% milk, Blue Moon Ice cream…” He began to recite what odds and ends he remembered from his shopping list. The list itself was up by the time he got into the shop, and Justin had repeated the phrases a few times by then. He didn’t want to forget anything. He didn’t want to go back out here in the cold. He wanted to be at home, asleep, curled up under the covers. But he couldn’t force this on Gretchen. After all, she didn’t have a car!\n\n\t“onion, Carrot, Apple, whey powder…” He repeated it again while bagging up the first few items. Two onions, a carrot, an apple. He paused at the bell peppers. He liked them, but they weren’t on the list. He had to stick to the list. “Just six more hours.”\n\n\tJustin winced. He hated when he did that. Some stupid nonsense phrase, and he had no idea where it came from. Nothing was happening in six hours. Or at least it shouldn’t be. Classes were done and if anything he’d be well asleep in six hours. He’d need it if he was going to work in the shop tomorrow. Yet there it was. His stupid brain shoving stupid nonsense in with the other nonsense he had to try and make himself remember. How was someone supposed to function like this?\n\n\tHe kept focused on the list while trying to mentally map out where the next items were. He’d almost gotten it down when the phone began to chirp out a familiar tune. Glenn’s theme from Chrono Trigger. Or rather, a Jazz inspired remix of it. The caller ID hovered there blocking the items he was supposed to get. Just like that they were gone from his mind, and he was forced to flick the on-screen button to answer the call.\n\n\t“Hey mom.” Justin sighed\n\n\t“Justin.” His mother’s voice stern and a bit tired “Your dad told me you needed some money.”\n\n\t“Gas money. Yeah last week.” he sighed “I needed twenty bucks to make sure I could get to work and class.”\n\n\t“Which means you don’t have anything saved.” Her tone had gone ice cold.\n\n\t“Not right now.” he sighed “I’m gonna pick up more hours at the shop soon. Don’t worry. I just needed a little help.”\n\n\t“You need to have some savings. I know you were trying to treat Hui, and you are used to having her around. But if you’re already asking for money then there’s no way you’re saving up enough to get in to Western.”\n\n\tWhat was she talking about? She knew he would never be able to ‘save enough’. That he was saving up some to help but that it was going to be a scholarship that would get him in the door. He almost said it, too. Justin could feel the words on the cusp of leaking out. But they didn’t. Instead a small sigh and a quiet “I know.”\n\n\t“Do you need me to take a look at your bank account and your spending?” The words made him wince. Said with all the respect of ‘do you need me to help you clean your room?’. He knew what she was asking, and it made his whole body tense up.\n\n\t“No, mom. That’s fine. Like I said I just ran a little short on hours. I’m actually out shopping right now. I need to get some groceries.”\n\n\t“You’re looking at the deals, right?” She chimed in. “And do you have M perks of your own yet? If not just remember you can use my phone number. Every little bit helps.”\n\n\t“I have my own M perks mom.” he lied. Though upon reflection he probably should sign up. A decision to be made by later Justin. “I just really need to get this stuff and get home. I’m honestly kind of tired.”\n\n\tMeredith Flannery’s displeasure with the response was palpable, even over the phone. “Make sure you check any coupons they have before you check out.” She said, slow and low. He voice every ounce the otter matron. “Don’t just do the thing where you get five dollars off for five thousand points. Loyalty programs only work if you interact with them.”\n\n\t“Ok, Mom. I’ll check” he sighed “I gotta go. I can’t look at the list while someone’s on the phone.”\n\n\t“Fine.” she sighed. “Love you, son.”\n\n\t“Love you too mom.” He sighed as she hung up. Every conversation over the phone was agony. Part of it was that gnawing awareness in the back of his head that any conversation with anyone on the phone could be his last. That slow, creeping, irrational awareness of mortality which was simply impossible to fully escape. But it was worse since so much of the time he hung up angry. Sure, he loved his parents. Very few people he’d talk to on the phone were people he didn’t love. Anyone else would get a text. But it was always such a slog dealing with them infantilizing him.\n\n\tThings really were easier when he was a kid. When his mother would spend about ten minutes trying to get him to push the cart, then get fed up with his inability to do so without ‘bumping in to everything’ and send him off to the toy aisles to while away the time until she was done. In truth it might be easier now if he’d stayed by her side more and paid attention to what she was doing. Or more likely he’d have just been bored and zoned out. Because why would his brain ever let him pay attention to things?\n\n\t“Just six more hours”\n\n\tHe winced again and sighed. \n\n\tThe shopping trip continued. Into the cart went crackers and chips, both on sale. Three twelve-packs of Nella coke went under it, and Gretchen’s bottle of Canada Dry Cranberry she was craving.\n\n\tIn spite of his stress, or maybe because of it, Justin soon found that he was humming and dancing just a bit. Not happily. The song stuck in his head all too familiar and all too grating.\n\n\t“We’re up all night to use Stone Edge. We’re up all night to use Stone Edge. We’re up all night to use Stone Edge. We’re up all night to catch Luxray.”\n\n\tMore things he didn’t want to think. But at least this one had a groove. Cereal was next. Then string cheese. He wound his way in to the ice cream section, then paused.\n\n\tNo Blue Moon.\n\n\tIn fact half of the Purple Cow branded ice cream was gone.\n\n\tJustin flicked down to his phone again and shot Gretchen a text asking what she’d like instead. He didn’t want to move on until he had that in the cart. Knowing him, he’d just forget. He didn’t want to forget anything. He ‘really’ didn’t want to come back today.\n\n\tTwo minutes passed. Then five. Then ten. No ping. No notices. He slumped down a bit and took a look at what was on offer. None of the store brand looked good. Neither did the big national ones. Hudsonville stuff was always interesting, but Gretchen had voiced concerns before when he’d brought home some white chocolate raspberry ice cream she flat out didn’t like.\n\n\tBut what would she like? None of it was comparable to Blue Moon. ‘Nothing’ was comparable to Blue Moon and none of the brands had it. He was living with a girl who had to favor the most inexplicable ice cream flavor on the fucking planet, and she wasn’t picking up her god damn phone to text him back and make a second choice!\n\n\tFinally the fifteen minute mark hit, and he was done. Two flavors. Toasted Cocoanut and S’more. One of them had to work. Or maybe neither would. But he was tired. He didn’t have time to put up with this. Instead he looked back down at the recipe. A pound of beef. He didn’t know how to cook beef. He didn’t have the first clue what he was doing. It was probably something he should have thought of before picking the recipe. But at the moment figuring out how to cook meat without getting anyone sick felt like the most daunting task imaginable.\n\n\tHe finally settled on veggie beef tips. Something he knew he could make without fucking up someone’s stomach lining or giving them a parasite. Just as he went to get them, though, his phone pinged. “Gahh, now she texts back” he sighed.\n\n\tBut it wasn’t Gretchen. It was the garage.\n\n\tAnd his hours has been cut.\n\n\tIt was a short and simple text. They’d only need him one day a week for the next few weeks. Everything was slow and snow was probably inbound. The fact that it might go weeks without snow or they might get slammed by people fucking up their cars on the highway during the first snowfall didn’t seem to matter to the boss. He’d been getting three solid days of work a week up until now. Thirteen an hour, six hours a day, three days a week. He could all but feel the money. The better part of two hundred bucks a week, evaporating though his fingers while he looked at the cart full of mostly frivolous items. He should feel guilty for all this. Maybe he did. In the end all he could do was sigh.\n\n\t“Just six more hours.”\n\n\tOnce again Justin winced. Only this time he was too tired to even give the frustration purchase in his own brain. Rice was next. Rice and spices.\n\n\tIt was only when he got to the rice that Justin realized that he had a problem. The recipe said it could be ‘served over rice’. But what rice? That it didn’t tell him. He’d never had Japanese Curry before. Or maybe he’d had some twisted approximation among the many ‘Euro furs try their hands at non European food using vegetarian ingredients’ potlucks that SDA people seemed to adore. Not ‘real’ Curry though. He was flying blind as hell and suddenly he could see a mountain jutting up before him.\n\n\tThe smart thing to do would be check. But that wasn’t happening. Justin already knew that. He could feel his hands shaking just from holding the phone. His whole body bristled and balked from the mere thought of doing a painstaking Google search using wireless data in the dead zone center of Meijer.\n\n\t“Fuck it.” he sighed “Sushi rice. That’ll probably work.” In went the large tub of grains. It was probably not the ‘right’ thing. It probably would not ‘work’. But he was finding himself increasingly unable to give a fuck.\n\n\tEggs. Milk. English Muffins. Sliced Cheddar he had to go back for. Then were the spices. So many spices.\n\n\tToo many spices.\n\n\t“We have Cumin” He sighed to himself. They also had paprika, which wasn’t in this dish. \n\n\tCoriander was five bucks. Turmeric, two bucks. Nutmeg was eight? Nine for Cardamom?\n\n\tHe hadn’t even gotten to half the list yet. Not the honey, or the instant coffee, or chocolate. He was just now realizing he didn’t even know what consommé was! Justin stared at the list before him as his brain racked and railed in some attempt to wrap itself around what might be ok to leave out. How was this shit so damn expensive? Wasn’t it supposed to be ‘cheap’ food? Easy and quick? At this point he’d be so much better off just throwing all this shit back and going back to fast food! Why not? Apparently two jars of spice were the same as a meal, and he needed a fucking rainbow of them to get this one dish made. How many meals would he actually be able to make with them? And what if he fucked it up?\n\n\tIt was during this worry that he heard another chirp from his phone. He looked down to see another text. This time from his ‘other’ job.\n\n\t‘I have a client who needs some ‘special’ attention. I told him about you and he asked for you specifically. I’ll expect you here tonight at Eight. Don’t be late. This is very important.”\n\n\tThe Madame wasn’t as mechanical as his boss from the shop. Yet somehow that only made it worse. Three hours? Three hours and he was supposed to be made up and in the club catering to some VIP who probably just wanted to get kicked in the nuts and called trash? He wasn’t even done shopping! He didn’t even know if he wanted to keep burying himself under this fucking curry mountain or not!\n\n\tThe fact that such a client ‘might’ help him afford all of this didn’t really matter all that much. The mere thought of going in right now and seeing someone while feeling this way was… No. He had to do it. Somehow he had to pull it off. He just had to get what was on the list and go home. They were cutting his hours at the other job anyways. He could just sleep. He had to sleep.\n\n\tJust six more Hours\n\n\tThe spices went into the cart. The cheapest ones he could find for each of them. Same with the instant coffee and chocolate. Cheap, small, grabbed to check off a box. That’s what he kept telling himself. All of this was to check off boxes. All of this was to get it done. Then he could go home. Then he could be done.\n\n\tNever mind that he had to go right back out again. Never mind that the trip was likely to cost him well over a hundred, with much of it going to one damn dish. A dish he very well could fuck up.\n\n\tHe just needed to figure out Consommé. And whatever else was on the list. God he wished he knew what ‘salad oil’ was supposed to be.\n\n\tAnother text came in. His drafting teacher. Apparently the file for his last project was corrupted. He’d have to do it again. He got an extension, but he had to draft it all again.\n\n\tFine. Sure. Whatever. What did it matter? So what if the one class he’d tanked because the asshole idiot teacher insisted on hand drawing for the first half now had him struggling to keep a B? Just more shit on the shit pile, right? He barely even paid attention as he gabbed cheapest ‘beef broth’ he could find and tossed it into the cart. Now he just needed his whey powder. The one thing that would keep him going most though the day. The thing that would likely tip this trip towards 200 bucks… and he could be done.\n\n\tJust Six more hours.\n\n\tAnd then another ping. Another message from mom.\n\n\t‘Justin. We need to know when you’re coming down for Christmas. Please call me later today so we can work out some plans.’\n\nJustin looked up at an unfamiliar face. A black bear man with dyed pink hair and a few earrings on one side sporting an untucked Meijer team member shirt.\n\n\tHe was suddenly aware of several things. Aware that he was sitting on the ground. Aware of himself rocking back and forth. He looked past the man and winced, seeing a wall of legos before him. The items were half way across the store from where he had been. He could also see his cart. I was hard though, as Justin became aware of the fact that he was rocking. His knees were pulled to his chest with his arms wrapped around them and he was rocking very violently. He was aware of this, and yet he could not for the life of him stop.\n\n\t“Sir.” The clerk’s voice a mix of confusion and concern. “are you ok?”\n\n\t“No…” The response hollow and distant. Almost as if it hadn’t come from Justin at all. But it was accurate.\n\n\tJust six more Hours.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Collared Chapter 43: Trapped
By TerraMGP

\tNovember cold was always bitter.

\tIt was an odd lesson Michigan would always teach. Only a few days ago it had climbed back up into the 50s. Now it was just below freezing again and only the dry weather kept it from snowing.

\tJustin winced as he pulled himself from the warm safety of his car and into the dehydrated tundra of the Meijer parking lot. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be anywhere. But he didn’t want to starve, either. And it was slowly becoming clear that eating out all the time wasn’t going to cut it.

\tThe young otter kept his paws in his pockets as long as he could. He only stopped when finding a cart that had been abandoned outside of the cart corral. Another Michigander trait. You bring in a cart. You save the people at the store a bit of work. Never mind that the mere touch of his fingers on the icy-cold metal of the cart felt like it was grating at the back of his brain. The sooner he got in, the sooner he could get warm.

\tHe went for his phone on instinct. It was a regrettable action once the thing actually came out into the cold air. He thought about shoving it into the little plastic phone holder the cart sported and shoving his hand back into his pocket. But no, that was a good way to forget it. The last thing he needed was to pay for a new phone. Or worse, for people to see some of the shit he had on it. Legal or not, it would fuck with his life so hard.

\t“Ok. Onion, carrot, apple, whey powder, 2% milk, Blue Moon Ice cream…” He began to recite what odds and ends he remembered from his shopping list. The list itself was up by the time he got into the shop, and Justin had repeated the phrases a few times by then. He didn’t want to forget anything. He didn’t want to go back out here in the cold. He wanted to be at home, asleep, curled up under the covers. But he couldn’t force this on Gretchen. After all, she didn’t have a car!

\t“onion, Carrot, Apple, whey powder…” He repeated it again while bagging up the first few items. Two onions, a carrot, an apple. He paused at the bell peppers. He liked them, but they weren’t on the list. He had to stick to the list. “Just six more hours.”

\tJustin winced. He hated when he did that. Some stupid nonsense phrase, and he had no idea where it came from. Nothing was happening in six hours. Or at least it shouldn’t be. Classes were done and if anything he’d be well asleep in six hours. He’d need it if he was going to work in the shop tomorrow. Yet there it was. His stupid brain shoving stupid nonsense in with the other nonsense he had to try and make himself remember. How was someone supposed to function like this?

\tHe kept focused on the list while trying to mentally map out where the next items were. He’d almost gotten it down when the phone began to chirp out a familiar tune. Glenn’s theme from Chrono Trigger. Or rather, a Jazz inspired remix of it. The caller ID hovered there blocking the items he was supposed to get. Just like that they were gone from his mind, and he was forced to flick the on-screen button to answer the call.

\t“Hey mom.” Justin sighed

\t“Justin.” His mother’s voice stern and a bit tired “Your dad told me you needed some money.”

\t“Gas money. Yeah last week.” he sighed “I needed twenty bucks to make sure I could get to work and class.”

\t“Which means you don’t have anything saved.” Her tone had gone ice cold.

\t“Not right now.” he sighed “I’m gonna pick up more hours at the shop soon. Don’t worry. I just needed a little help.”

\t“You need to have some savings. I know you were trying to treat Hui, and you are used to having her around. But if you’re already asking for money then there’s no way you’re saving up enough to get in to Western.”

\tWhat was she talking about? She knew he would never be able to ‘save enough’. That he was saving up some to help but that it was going to be a scholarship that would get him in the door. He almost said it, too. Justin could feel the words on the cusp of leaking out. But they didn’t. Instead a small sigh and a quiet “I know.”

\t“Do you need me to take a look at your bank account and your spending?” The words made him wince. Said with all the respect of ‘do you need me to help you clean your room?’. He knew what she was asking, and it made his whole body tense up.

\t“No, mom. That’s fine. Like I said I just ran a little short on hours. I’m actually out shopping right now. I need to get some groceries.”

\t“You’re looking at the deals, right?” She chimed in. “And do you have M perks of your own yet? If not just remember you can use my phone number. Every little bit helps.”

\t“I have my own M perks mom.” he lied. Though upon reflection he probably should sign up. A decision to be made by later Justin. “I just really need to get this stuff and get home. I’m honestly kind of tired.”

\tMeredith Flannery’s displeasure with the response was palpable, even over the phone. “Make sure you check any coupons they have before you check out.” She said, slow and low. He voice every ounce the otter matron. “Don’t just do the thing where you get five dollars off for five thousand points. Loyalty programs only work if you interact with them.”

\t“Ok, Mom. I’ll check” he sighed “I gotta go. I can’t look at the list while someone’s on the phone.”

\t“Fine.” she sighed. “Love you, son.”

\t“Love you too mom.” He sighed as she hung up. Every conversation over the phone was agony. Part of it was that gnawing awareness in the back of his head that any conversation with anyone on the phone could be his last. That slow, creeping, irrational awareness of mortality which was simply impossible to fully escape. But it was worse since so much of the time he hung up angry. Sure, he loved his parents. Very few people he’d talk to on the phone were people he didn’t love. Anyone else would get a text. But it was always such a slog dealing with them infantilizing him.

\tThings really were easier when he was a kid. When his mother would spend about ten minutes trying to get him to push the cart, then get fed up with his inability to do so without ‘bumping in to everything’ and send him off to the toy aisles to while away the time until she was done. In truth it might be easier now if he’d stayed by her side more and paid attention to what she was doing. Or more likely he’d have just been bored and zoned out. Because why would his brain ever let him pay attention to things?

\t“Just six more hours”

\tHe winced again and sighed.

\tThe shopping trip continued. Into the cart went crackers and chips, both on sale. Three twelve-packs of Nella coke went under it, and Gretchen’s bottle of Canada Dry Cranberry she was craving.

\tIn spite of his stress, or maybe because of it, Justin soon found that he was humming and dancing just a bit. Not happily. The song stuck in his head all too familiar and all too grating.

\t“We’re up all night to use Stone Edge. We’re up all night to use Stone Edge. We’re up all night to use Stone Edge. We’re up all night to catch Luxray.”

\tMore things he didn’t want to think. But at least this one had a groove. Cereal was next. Then string cheese. He wound his way in to the ice cream section, then paused.

\tNo Blue Moon.

\tIn fact half of the Purple Cow branded ice cream was gone.

\tJustin flicked down to his phone again and shot Gretchen a text asking what she’d like instead. He didn’t want to move on until he had that in the cart. Knowing him, he’d just forget. He didn’t want to forget anything. He ‘really’ didn’t want to come back today.

\tTwo minutes passed. Then five. Then ten. No ping. No notices. He slumped down a bit and took a look at what was on offer. None of the store brand looked good. Neither did the big national ones. Hudsonville stuff was always interesting, but Gretchen had voiced concerns before when he’d brought home some white chocolate raspberry ice cream she flat out didn’t like.

\tBut what would she like? None of it was comparable to Blue Moon. ‘Nothing’ was comparable to Blue Moon and none of the brands had it. He was living with a girl who had to favor the most inexplicable ice cream flavor on the fucking planet, and she wasn’t picking up her god damn phone to text him back and make a second choice!

\tFinally the fifteen minute mark hit, and he was done. Two flavors. Toasted Cocoanut and S’more. One of them had to work. Or maybe neither would. But he was tired. He didn’t have time to put up with this. Instead he looked back down at the recipe. A pound of beef. He didn’t know how to cook beef. He didn’t have the first clue what he was doing. It was probably something he should have thought of before picking the recipe. But at the moment figuring out how to cook meat without getting anyone sick felt like the most daunting task imaginable.

\tHe finally settled on veggie beef tips. Something he knew he could make without fucking up someone’s stomach lining or giving them a parasite. Just as he went to get them, though, his phone pinged. “Gahh, now she texts back” he sighed.

\tBut it wasn’t Gretchen. It was the garage.

\tAnd his hours has been cut.

\tIt was a short and simple text. They’d only need him one day a week for the next few weeks. Everything was slow and snow was probably inbound. The fact that it might go weeks without snow or they might get slammed by people fucking up their cars on the highway during the first snowfall didn’t seem to matter to the boss. He’d been getting three solid days of work a week up until now. Thirteen an hour, six hours a day, three days a week. He could all but feel the money. The better part of two hundred bucks a week, evaporating though his fingers while he looked at the cart full of mostly frivolous items. He should feel guilty for all this. Maybe he did. In the end all he could do was sigh.

\t“Just six more hours.”

\tOnce again Justin winced. Only this time he was too tired to even give the frustration purchase in his own brain. Rice was next. Rice and spices.

\tIt was only when he got to the rice that Justin realized that  he had a problem. The recipe said it could be ‘served over rice’. But what rice? That it didn’t tell him. He’d never had Japanese Curry before. Or maybe he’d had some twisted approximation among the many ‘Euro furs try their hands at non European food using vegetarian ingredients’ potlucks that SDA people seemed to adore. Not ‘real’ Curry though. He was flying blind as hell and suddenly he could see a mountain jutting up before him.

\tThe smart thing to do would be check. But that wasn’t happening. Justin already knew that. He could feel his hands shaking just from holding the phone. His whole body bristled and balked from the mere thought of doing a painstaking Google search using wireless data in the dead zone center of Meijer.

\t“Fuck it.” he sighed “Sushi rice. That’ll probably work.” In went the large tub of grains. It was probably not the ‘right’ thing. It probably would not ‘work’. But he was finding himself increasingly unable to give a fuck.

\tEggs. Milk. English Muffins. Sliced Cheddar he had to go back for. Then were the spices. So many spices.

\tToo many spices.

\t“We have Cumin” He sighed to himself. They also had paprika, which wasn’t in this dish.

\tCoriander was five bucks. Turmeric, two bucks. Nutmeg was eight? Nine for Cardamom?

\tHe hadn’t even gotten to half the list yet. Not the honey, or the instant coffee, or chocolate. He was just now realizing he didn’t even know what consommé was! Justin stared at the list before him as his brain racked and railed in some attempt to wrap itself around what might be ok to leave out. How was this shit so damn expensive? Wasn’t it supposed to be ‘cheap’ food? Easy and quick? At this point he’d be so much better off just throwing all this shit back and going back to fast food! Why not? Apparently two jars of spice were the same as a meal, and he needed a fucking rainbow of them to get this one dish made. How many meals would he actually be able to make with them? And what if he fucked it up?

\tIt was during this worry that he heard another chirp from his phone. He looked down to see another text. This time from his ‘other’ job.

\t‘I have a client who needs some ‘special’ attention. I told him about you and he asked for you specifically. I’ll expect you here tonight at Eight. Don’t be late. This is very important.”

\tThe Madame wasn’t as mechanical as his boss from the shop. Yet somehow that only made it worse. Three hours? Three hours and he was supposed to be made up and in the club catering to some VIP who probably just wanted to get kicked in the nuts and called trash? He wasn’t even done shopping! He didn’t even know if he wanted to keep burying himself under this fucking curry mountain or not!

\tThe fact that such a client ‘might’ help him afford all of this didn’t really matter all that much. The mere thought of going in right now and seeing someone while feeling this way was… No. He had to do it. Somehow he had to pull it off. He just had to get what was on the list and go home. They were cutting his hours at the other job anyways. He could just sleep. He had to sleep.

\tJust six more Hours

\tThe spices went into the cart. The cheapest ones he could find for each of them. Same with the instant coffee and chocolate. Cheap, small, grabbed to check off a box. That’s what he kept telling himself. All of this was to check off boxes. All of this was to get it done. Then he could go home. Then he could be done.

\tNever mind that he had to go right back out again. Never mind that the trip was likely to cost him well over a hundred, with much of it going to one damn dish. A dish he very well could fuck up.

\tHe just needed to figure out Consommé. And whatever else was on the list. God he wished he knew what ‘salad oil’ was supposed to be.

\tAnother text came in. His drafting teacher. Apparently the file for his last project was corrupted. He’d have to do it again. He got an extension, but he had to draft it all again.

\tFine. Sure. Whatever. What did it matter? So what if the one class he’d tanked because the asshole idiot teacher insisted on hand drawing for the first half now had him struggling to keep a B? Just more shit on the shit pile, right? He barely even paid attention as he gabbed cheapest ‘beef broth’ he could find and tossed it into the cart. Now he just needed his whey powder. The one thing that would keep him going most though the day. The thing that would likely tip this trip towards 200 bucks… and he could be done.

\tJust Six more hours.

\tAnd then another ping. Another message from mom.

\t‘Justin. We need to know when you’re coming down for Christmas. Please call me later today so we can work out some plans.’

Justin looked up at an unfamiliar face. A black bear man with dyed pink hair and a few earrings on one side sporting an untucked Meijer team member shirt.

\tHe was suddenly aware of several things. Aware that he was sitting on the ground. Aware of himself rocking back and forth. He looked past the man and winced, seeing a wall of legos before him. The items were half way across the store from where he had been. He could also see his cart. I was hard though, as Justin became aware of the fact that he was rocking. His knees were pulled to his chest with his arms wrapped around them and he was rocking very violently. He was aware of this, and yet he could not for the life of him stop.

\t“Sir.” The clerk’s voice a mix of confusion and concern. “are you ok?”

\t“No…” The response hollow and distant. Almost as if it hadn’t come from Justin at all. But it was accurate.

\tJust six more Hours.

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