Disaster 4

Sometimes I just don’t even know what to say, because I don’t even feel like talking, my body still doing a post-coital ode and I just want to board the bus, but instead she yanks my hand and we go back, past the kiosk and through the blocks which have girls in enormous transparent platforms. I would always look at their shoes, wanting a pair other than wanting them for myself. I always wondered how would it even feel. It always seemed to intrigue me that I wondered how do you even head in. I just pushed my head lower, following Alison through the buildings until they would shift into expensive condos and other streets and squares. The city makes me anxious, sometimes the past catches up in a nostalgic knot. The university filled with weird expositions which go nowhere, yet teacher chose the worst because their art go nowhere, it’s a void where they suck in students with the same talent they had in hope that some reincarnation of theirs goes somewhere. 

We keep walking, up until the square with all the hanged people and it amazes me how cheery it is, how always it’s brimming with people and no one even ponders that once the hanging of heads was used for entertainment, well, the square is still used for entertainment now for what acclaimed as civil drinking. We dart into one, surprised to see a few tables empty, she doesn’t ask me what I want and comes back with beer. I wonder how come she hadn’t gotten IDed and I wondered if she had gotten a fake one. Once you enter a higher institution you realize that the fake IDs are awfully easy to obtain, you’ll be offered one anyway, just to join the Christmas cheer through out the year, eggnog not being in fashion in the other months. 

“It’s kind of stupid to blame him for going for a bloke. But it’s kind of...” She musses on a bit and I can see with her fiddling fingers that the smoking ban hangs upon her like a possessed demon. Alison smiles at me. “You hate everything about the other person and with all us getting angry at genders, it becomes even easier to do so.”

She takes a sip.

“I’m sure you’ve been angry at some girl who chose a guy over you-” Before I can speak, she continues. “It doesn’t matter, your anger would’ve been the same, we just think that there’s some difference between genders, but there isn’t much in this case. We’re all different and it’s ok to hate the new chosen person, but not for who they are. For the fact that it’s not you, yeah, but that’s for you to sulk.”

I stare at her. Her dark eyes fix on me and they’re rather close to pitch black, maybe if autumn had a proper brown sky at some fixed time, she would be that night. She’s just as striking as she used to be, now paired up with gold boots and locks trimmed chaotically. Alison keep smiling at me, yet already nearly halfway done with her beer. I barely touched mine.

“Oh, sorry, if you don’t like beer.” She mutters, tracing a finger down her cold pint glass. I just shake my head and she manages to make a conversation out of my lone silence.

“So, who’s the girl?” She asks, eyes beaming. I raise my head to look at her, faking confusion and wondering what thoughts gave her the envelope of conclusion. 

“You’re glowing. I see it, yet miserable.” Alison places her head on her arms, leaning closer to the table as I observe how the pub slowly allows people to crawl in and remind themselves of the possibility of sudden intoxication, but soon enough they start rotating in a shots and pub crawl manner. 

“Oh, it’s ok.” I shrug, Alison’s curiosity still spins its web around me. “I guess we’re friends with benefits.”

“Ah, that’s hot.” She coos. “I mean, it is, hot. But I don’t think I would properly function without the romance, but at the same time it’s nice to be alone, y’know. We lived together, it’s quite comforting to have my space back and no fucking and fighting. I dunno, it gets hard after a while, so all of a sudden silence and doing nothing without someone who would always be in a rush, it’s good. Sad, but good.”

I see Jamie still muses on her mind, as she chews her lips, now beer waiting for me to catch up, so I start taking bigger gulps as Alison keep watching me interested and I know I do look rather tousled hair and my make-up is nowhere, walking out how an actual make-up less selfie should look like. Alison doesn’t seem to mind as if I were a character from some lesbian pulp novel. She doesn’t pounce, she just watches me intrigued and eager to rant on her own problems, she’s on that brink when the ex takes the same amount of space he used to take when dating. 

All morals can be thrown away very fast, when you don’t seem to be following any at all. And I keep looking at her, a bit at unease from Marina’s proposition, wondering how much jealousy would I be juggling if I would actually end up dragging Alison back to bed with me or would I just continue to see it sex everywhere and maybe I should be taking the act as such as pinning other emotions on it, which Marina doesn’t desire to have. I wonder if I would fast forwarding in my head to talking to her after the sex, her hair tussled and drawing stars on the pillow and her make-up slowly going off, turning itself off and I would see her naked as a palette and she would too. 

But what is it that I desire, if I keep looking at Alison, which seems now entertained by replying and then she nearly slams her phone down, crossing her legs, angrily. 

“Just don’t give her advice or whatever. If Jamie ever needs a crying shoulder, I’m there for him. It’s not even about that I don’t want to be there, but I also want to be on top of him, not just the one taking the phone calls whenever his boyfriend isn’t there.” She winces. “I hate being discarded.”

Alison shakes her head, taking a long sip. She taps her finger on her glass.

“So if you’re in benefits, are you looking to... find someone or are you trying to grasp your chances, there?” The girl asks, as I look at her round rings and how she manages to pull out every outfit and the raven dark hair which gives her all her aura and holds every fairytale she’s ever been told. 

“I... I want to try.” I decide to explain myself. “With the girl, but...”

I don’t know whether to accept or not.

“I still need time for myself, maybe just having sex is a stepping stone until I fully allow myself to say that I’m...”

“Into women?” Alison smiles. 

“A lesbian, I guess.” I mutter, shrugging, holding the pint with both hands. “It’s a loud word and kind of understanding how much I’ve been discarding everything, all the thoughts that it was just me being friendly or dreaming of kissing her was... actually my own desires.”

I push my hair back, fidgeting with my fingers. 

“Apparently I’ve loved her for a long while.” I smile. “Something like childhood sweethearts where neither of us were aware of my feelings, I think. At least, I think.”

Alison smiles back, intrigued and clings her glass to mine.

“Jamie was mine. Let’s hope yours doesn’t end up crumbling as well. Being friends is painful, but we stay because we don’t want our suicide, we’d rather be murdered by them. It becomes like... a choice of a person. Whether they decide to end their pain at the right time or if they want someone else to do it for them, head spinning or not, adrenaline or music, it’s the... killing which matters and who pulled the trigger then and what complications it will twist and how much blood will eventually spill on the rest. Because murder or suicide is always a message, a desire to have peace from the deceased.”

She clinks glasses with me again, either trying to strip me down with dark eyes or looking away, entangled in her own thoughts, as I wonder how much more would I even drink now.

-

I didn't realize it's been so long since I even posted a chapter of Disaster, it feels odd because it's one of the stories I'm always writing even if it's usually maybe one paragraph and I'm always thinking of it (I always think of stories all the time, to be honest). And I love writing it because I love frankly Lana and Marina and because I'm a greedy polyamorous person xD I shoved Alison in, I guess because I miss her and Lana as a ship, but yeah, this is a Larina story without a doubt:) 

I'm sorry, I'll try to catch up and start chucking out chapters of everything more often because I've got so fucking many written so be honest xD and I get very anxious when I get a depressive episode, it's frankly an awful void, so it's like mania is super shit and depression is just awfully draining. 

And I guess coming out makes it easier and more liberating to write, kind of not trying to shove myself in a box I don't identify and that doesn't erase the past I base things of really and that's why I've been more comfortable with stuff like Relationship Values, Disaster and One For The Road. 

I think Disaster is odd because I have a very clear image of Lothian Road form Edinburgh where this chapter is set and I'm not even sure which pub they choose, so it's a rather vague made up with concrete locations I've loved. Also I used to live nearby and that's what was called the pubic triangle and obviously it lived up to its name (odd to speak openly, I'm not one to say where I lived and etc and I wouldn't even mention cities too much, but it's been years now and I still liked those places) and the girls had these enourmous transparent heels with platforms and funnily enough it was the first I'd seen them or paid attention and I always loved them. I like odd heels and I dunno, I still want a pair so that's where the scene came from (I wrote this scene months ago, I thought it was published odd to revisit and explain xD) The art stand of the uni was always hideous. The small rant comes frankly from the fact that I kind of had to give up my dream of studying creative writing and it was very limiting by the end because teachers have to pulled back by a lot of students which just write the same things and you're stuck with maybe 2 more students wondering how come those people are even here. I was an angry lil' student. So kind of never getting it, makes me bitter because I spent my teenage years studying, got As and hey, fuck this, you're not British so fuck you, also we rig your diploma, so of course I'm angry and at the same time, it's a good thing I'm not stuck trying to understand what I am doing here. I miss it, but I don't regret losing it.

The Grassmarket is gorgeous and has been written in stories by me so many fucking times, I even lost count. Also the IDs thing is true, it's weird how everyone just has one and how it's easy to get one. But I held until my 18th, I even missed a pub night with Irvine Welsh, coz I was following the law so religiously. Asshats. 

I think hate is a very easy emotion and we will hate anything and anyone and for everything, really. Don't worry the next update isn't too far away:3

I hope you enjoyed it and tell me if you did so (would mean the world to me :3)

Thank you

<3

Jamie