# Catching Up Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Good Times Never Last
​
So there I was, back at the store again being harassed by some shitty nu-Pop nonsense blaring through the blasted speakers and disturbing my inner chakras. Now I can't even find the Oriental shelf to get my bounty so I guess I'll just hunt down an employee to guide me. Going on the prowl, I spotted the back of a Dino-Mart shirt and headed forth.
​
At first, I didn't recognize them, I just asked for directions to the prepackaged ramen noodles and got back a caveman-like grunt and a point from a disheartened Ptero stocking some shelves. Only after finding the shelf and stuffing my basket with some technicolor plastic bricks of delicious weebnourishment, recommended by Stella of course, did it hit me; I recognize that snoot! From where, was the question, so back I went to scouting the isles where I saw the same employee in their Dino-Mart uniform and one earbud in staring emptily in front of themselves as they stocked a shelf with the newest corn-syrup enriched diabetes-cereals. It couldn't be them though, could it? It had been too long, surely they'd gone to a better place and lived a better life after getting away from me and my black void of self-centered destruction.
​
Then I saw their face as I got closer. It was haunting, seeing those shining amber eyes I had once seen the world in were now dulled, faded and empty; a void without stars. Were they still happy, did they end up better without me and my bullshit? Was this what they wanted? I still wake up in sweat with nightmare about that time on the beach, even if it was close to a decade ago now. Time flies when you're a faggot. I guess I saw them at that pizza place not long after I got back from the navy, what was that... Seven years ago? Eight years? It didn't matter, back then I eventually turned around after leaving and berating myself for not sparking up a conversation, but I got absolutely blasted by Fang when I did try. I did deserve it though, after all; I just ran away from everything when things were breaking apart instead of trying to fix it and helping the most wonderful and meaningful person I had ever had the luck to run into when they themself were going through hell.
​
The horrid music finally ended, hopefully the radio died either with or without assisted suicide. If I approached them, maybe this time I can do it right, or maybe I should just leave them be. Me and my Messiah complex didn't need another broken person to get attached to and then demolish after promising them aid and a better life. Even if it was the same broken person from way back then. But it wasn't my duty, or my right, to try and fix them; I could just spend some time chatting and catching up about life. Maybe we had both matured and became adults of our own volition. The lyrics of that one song crept up in my mind, either from my subconscious or the light noise from the decrepit speakers had decided to suddenly become passable tunes: 'forty days and fooorty niiights... I waited for a giiirl like you to come and save my li-i-i-ife...'. They did change me after all, they made me a better person even if were too daft to see it back then. For some reason I'd been listening to that song whenever the memories got too lucid and the nightterrors too real, so I guess it must be some sort of sign from above or below or anywhere that the powers still keeping me trucking on were housed. Fuck it, life is for the living:
​
"Excuse me, I think I know you from somewhere?" I asked, holding a slight smile. The Ptero turned around, and it was almost impossible to recognize them, but holy shit there they were. Pudgy, covered in tattoos, too much makeup and a belt that was hanging on for dear life trying to keep those pants together. More pruning scars than I remember them having back then, shit, I guess that habit was hard to kick. The Dino-Mart nametag read 'Lucy', so they must have gotten back to their old name to some degree eventually.
​
"Huh? Oh yeah, sup. Did you find the noodles?" they say, popping the earbud out and letting it hanging it on the brim of their shirt. That customer service plastic smile hurt to see even more than the empty stare they held just a few minutes ago. What happened to you, Fang? There wasn't even a hint of recognition in those beautiful eyes, maybe a lot did change since way back then. I still wish to see even a spark of the Fang I knew, is that selfish? Am I ego-tripping for wanting them to not be like this anymore, repeating their destruction of self all over again? After all, my retarded self-centered monkeybrain did fuck us both up way back the-
​
"So, did you find those noodles? You've just been mumbling, are you OK?"
​
Fuckfuckfuck ohshitohshitohshitohshit, think now, what would Anon do and do the exact opposite of that retarded option. Can I be honest? Can I even bring up the past without tearing them up even more? Maybe things had changed since then, for both of us.
​
"Ah, yeah, the noodles. Thanks. Sorry for zoning out, it's just that you remind me of someone from a long time ago. Lucy, is it?"
​
Maybe they wouldn't recognize me, maybe that would be for the better for both of us, so we could just go our own paths again.
​
"Oh shit, is it you, Anon?" and there goes that possibility. I should have just gone for pasta with a nice side of up the shut fuck.
​
Rebooting, resuming prime directive. Try to not be like Old Anon, don't fall into those tracks. Be the man you've been working so hard to become, show them you kept up the hard work that they started for you.
​
"Yeah, it's me. Long time no see... Lucy?"
"Long time no see. And it's Lucy now, I'm more comfortable in these shoes. I eventually left 'Fang' behind in High School. Amidst other things I was better off losing." they say, with just enough venom in their tone to make it absolutely certain who they meant.
"That's one big step." I try to smile again, a bit more assuringly this time. They dont.
"Lots of things happened back then... But, could I do anything else for you, otherwise I would like you to leave. I still have lots of unpacking to do." their serious expression and slight bite in their tone made it more than obvious that they didn't want me around.
"I'll get going, it was... Nice to see you again."
"Bye."
​
I shuffle off, I wave but they've already turned around and put in both buds. Maybe I should have just died back then, falling off the school roof through the hole that Spears made in the fence. One last look at Fang when they still loved me, then sweet oblivion. I would never have been able to tear a hole straight through the soul of the only person who has ever truly loved me. Some things couldn't be fixed, why was I such a meathead that I didn't realise that trying to put back the pieces would only bring more pain.
​
Somehow, I had paid for my things and left before noticing it, and I was halfway back to my apartment when I regained sentience. I felt the emotional pain escalating, the fear gripped me. I couldn't breathe, the world started spinning off into another anxiety attack and I was lucky to have a bench close enough that I could just hurry over and slump down while dropping the bags on the ground next to me, burying my head in my hands. The world was moving fast, faster than it had done for a long time. My nightmares were invading the safety of my waking hours now too. I closed my eyes, but all I could see and hear was the strained face and biting voice of Lucy telling me to go away, all over again. At least it was in next-gen graphics instead of an old distorted memory. My halfhearted chuckle is drowned by the terror biting into me before it even reaches my lips. All the thoughts and memories come shooting back like bits of searing hot metal burning a hole in my skull. I had sworn since that day on the beach I'd keep off alcohol, but I sure would like to drown out these thoughts with something heavy right now. I reached for my pocket, I should have some anti-anxiety meds left, popping one of those and chasing it down with some water might help. If only the pocket wasn't empty. I hope noone was staring, at this point I was just soundlessly crying into my hands. Hopefully it wouldn't be audible, maybe they'd only see some tired overworked drunk. Maybe. Another wave of selfhatred and memories come crashing back, and now it's too late to hold back the tears. I just sit there sobbing, trying to drown out the words flooding back for I don't know how long. At least the crying helps, not holding back the pain is a relief. I hear the sounds of people passing by, but at this point I don't care. It doesn't matter, I've fucked up and I deserve this.
​
"Hey kid, what did those hands do to you that made them deserve death by drowning?" a somewhat upbeat voice calls out. I look up, and see a familiar orange colored dino staring back at me, but I couldn't recall from where I knew them. I must have been a real mess, because for a fraction of a second she looks shocked bordering horrified, before returning to her worried look.
"It's... Who? I'm sorry, what?" I mutter as a response, tears still running down my face.
"You looked to be in a rough shape, how are you doing?"
"I'm feeling fantastic, never been better, I'm just exercising my tearducts." I spit out, more sarcastically then I intended while trying to put on a somewhat less somber face. It doesn't go very well.
"It's a bit worrisome to come outside to put away the last things from the tables and finding a man having a breakdown on the bench. Even if he's just working out his eyelids."
"Tearducts. It's good to keep your electrolytes in check, I usually have a post-workout snack of activated almonds too."
"Sure. So how are your electrolytes doing?"
"Not too good. They fucked up badly a long time, and they have just kept doing it ever since.", maybe she actually cared to some extent. Better be careful not to overextend, though.
"Want to come inside? We've got some scraps left from the buffet, if you worry about your electric lights, of course."
​
There it was again, kindness. Why the fuck would she extend this to me, what was her agenda? But I was hungry, and even fake compassion felt good, so here I go:
​
"Alright, mrs.?"
"Tracy. This is my diner here, chef's left for the day to be able to catch his bus but we have microwaves." she says, extending a hand to get me off the bench. I wipe off the tears from my hand on my jacket, and accept it. I don't really want to be stoic and alone right now.
"So Tracy, do you pull every moron crying outside your diner in for some microwaved meals?"
"Only the ones that seem to need some advice, plus, I have a feeling I've met you, and given you advice, before. So what's one more time, to secure my investment?" she jokes, as we enter the diner. It's surprisingly cozy in here, I've seen the place as I've biked past, but I'm usually not one to eat out. Why was I even in here, I should just leave and not bother her any more than I've already done.
"You're not a bother, dude. And stop mumbling! Let me grab us something."
​
She goes away, and I take the time to check my phone. Not even shitposting has got me going, but I've been monitoring some threads on the old Dalahorse-painting forums so I just spend some time replying there. My shitposting days were mostly over, it didn't really do much for me anymore and actually interacting with people was a lot nicer than just fishing for (you)s. Then I swapped to Snootstagram, sent a comment on Stella's newest photo from the ol' weeb shop. It was nice working there, I'm glad I met up with her and got back together again after I came back from the navy. My browsing was interrupted by the orange dino coming out of the kitchen with a comically overstacked plate, two glasses and their accompanied bottles of lager. Maybe one beer wouldn't kill me.
​
"Et voilà! I come bearing food, drink and good company!" and she sets the comically overstacked plate down in front of me. "It has a little bit of everything, since I didn't know what you liked. At least something might strike your fancy!"
Tears start rolling down my face again: "Why are you this nice to me? You basically don't know me. I don't deserve this." I can't seem to stop the tears, and it turns into sobbing.
"Nonsense, everybody deserves some love and care sometimes. Plus, it doesn't hurt me to be kind, so might as well. You're not alone." and just like that the sobbing turns into ugly-crying, I swear this woman knows how to push my buttons.
​
It takes a while for the crying to slowly subside while she just sits there, sipping on her beer and idly looking at me, meeting my eyes when I do look up in shame inbetween the waves of tears. No judging words, no glaring eyes staring at me and wordlessly degrading me. Then the grey fog comes rolling in, the emotions start fading away and the numbness turns me into a husk once more. Now I could barely remember why I was crying to begin with, only a faint ache emanating from somewhere in the past. Eventually the worst passes, my tears having dotted the tablecloth when I leaned in over the table. Looking up at her, she nods at me.
"If you need it, I'm here to listen."
"Didn't you say I needed advice?"
"These days lots of people in bad situations don't need someone to push their agenda on them. Some times, people just need to say what's in their heart and yours looks mighty full."
I don't even know where to start. At the beginning, my old high school? At the beach? Going to the military? Frankly, I didn't know at what point in time my cockup-cascade had originated from.
"Kid, don't hold it in. You look like you've been trying to Atlas your whole deal for a while now.", her last words knock the air out of me. I try again, take a deep breath, brace against the table, focus on what's real and what isn't.
"It's been a hard time for a long time.", I pause to refocus as the world always start to spin when I think too much about what I've done, then continue: "and it's really wearing me down. As I said, I've messed up and that balled up mess has kept rolling downhill ever since." pause, breathe deep, refocus. Tracy is real, the beer in my glass is making a slight bubbling noise. My name is Anon, I live in an apartment. I have two parents and no siblings. Breathe. My hands are shaking, so I steady them against the table. The smooth tablecloth feels good. It feels real again. I go on:
"I wasn't very popular, I had a hard time fitting in. So I kept by myself, kept out of trouble, not making too much noise. Kids are cruel, Jack."
"Who's Jack?"
"Nevermind. Eventually I fail at hiding in my powerlevel, so the entire school moves in to relentlessy harass me for weeks. It felt neverending, but I got given a choice: transfer to somewhere else where I had nothing and knew no-one or stay and hope it blows over before I an hero." Breathe. Focus, don't let the mindfog roll in. Keep going.
"So I moved here, started at Volcadera High." my thoughts race, back to when I first came here. Naomi's warm welcoming, Naser being a bro, running into the Trigceratops. Meeting Stella, kamis bless her soul, and Rosa. Was I happy then? I think so. For the first time, I felt like I fit in somewhere, like I had a place to be, even if I didn't see it clearly back then.
"Met a lot of fantastic people, people who actually cared about me. Who wanted to hang out with me. People that talked to me without trying to covertly screw me over or try to make me spazz out so they could record it and put it on the web."
Tracy keeps sipping at her beer as I speak, her eyes betray some sadness but she's listening yet. For the first time in a long time, we lock eyes again. I must look terrible, but she doesn't budge. It's weirdly comforting. The tablecloth feels real.
"Then I met someone. Well, met their troupe of clowns, but I met someone. They were unlike anyone I've ever met before.", the last part fades out. Images of Lucy from the store roll into my thoughts and everything starts aching again. Do they still despise me, even after ten years? I've had nightmares that they did, but I never thought it would actually be so. The pain comes washing back in, the world starts to feel distant as the mindfog rolls in. I clutch the table, the tablecloth feels real. I'm Anon, I've been living in this town for almost a decade now. I have a job at a weebshop with one of my best friends. I have cold beer in a glass before me and I have someone who oddly enough cares about me on the other side of the table. The world stops spinning.
"Volcadera High. Home. At least it used to be until I fucked everything up."
"What happened?"
"I hurt the person I cared the most about. I ruined their relationships with their friends and their family. I hurt them on such an existential level I might as well have torn a hole in the fabric of their soul and being."
The world isn't spinning and the fog isn't rolling in. For once, I can just sit in the somber emotion of missing out on life, and I ruined it all on my own. We sit in silence for a while, it's a nice breather. Tracy looks like she's about to start a sentence, but it stops right before it can be worded. She braces, and tries again.
"Anon was it, right?", I nod in response.
"Anon, you've been serving this sentence for ten long years. You've had this hurt balled up in you for so long. Your penance is over, living and staying in this pain isn't going to change the past or cancel out the mistakes you've made. It's time to let it go."
​
How do you let such a thing go? Why even suggest it? Lucy is still in pain, I've never heard from them nor Trish and Reed since back then. It was my fault.
​
"It's not your fault."
​
They're my mistakes. You don't know the extent of what I've done.
​
"It's not your fault. You've done your time."
​
Go to hell. I ruined it all.
​
"Anon."
​
The questioning tone breaks my focus on Lucy.
​
"Yeah?"
​
"It's not your fault. It's all right." and she leans over and puts her hand on mine. Her scaly skin is cool and comforting, almost like silk. She squeezes it and looks into my eyes before continuing:
​
"You've done your time with the pain, you can keep living now. The past is past, but you're alive now."
​
Was I alive? Most days I didn't feel alive. I woke up, tired. I went to sleep, tired. The kind of tired that sleep won't fix. I watched anime and ate prepackaged ramen. Some days I didn't even feel like doing anything at all, and just went back to bed.
​
"Tracy... It feels live I've forgot how to live. Like part of me has been missing since then, and that I deserved to live without it."
​
"No-one deserves to live like that. Anon, you too deserve to be happy, but you have to take it for yourself. You're the only one that can help you help yourself.", one small squeeze again as if to remind me that she was there. Or maybe to remind me that I was here. It's all that's left for me to break. I start sobbing, she pulls me into a hug. I hold on for everything I've got, and she hugs me hard. I cry, deep heavy tears. It's a special sound, when men cry. Some men never cry, but when life wears them down enough it's like a wounded beast's cries. A deep pain resonating through their being, screams to the void. She holds me through it all as my tears fall down on her shirt.
​
We stay like that for an eternity. Her arms are strong, comforting. She smells of cooking, and faintly of perfume. It's nice to be held.
Eventually my crying subsides, but she keeps holding on to me.
​
"Who do you have in your life now that you care for?", I instinctively know who and answer before I even have to think:
"An old friend from Volcadera, Stella. She's been good to me, helping out a lot. She probably saved my life."
"Be there for her. Don't live in the past, Stella and you are here now. Show her the love and care she has shown you."
"I will. I know she deserves it."
​
Another tight embrace, then she lets me go and sits back down.
​
"Anon, I think you should get some rest. Go home, sleep on things. You're always welcome here later."
"Thank you, for everything. I owe you"
"I do it for free, but..." she smiles at me again, it's heartwarming to see. "you owe me one thing."
"Anything."
"Come here some times, grab a coffee. Sit down for some lunch. Don't wall yourself off from the world to linger in your pain."
"I promise."
"Good. Come in tomorrow, I'll send you home with a doggie bag for now."
​
She packs up, we say our goodbyes and she hugs me again on the doorstep. It's gotten dark already, the city lights illuminate the gloomy streets. It's nice to go unseen in the dark, but somehow it doesn't feel as lonely in here any more. I send a text to Stella as I start walking.