happy pills ~a treebros ghost au~

public vs. private connor

"I'm going outside." Connor said, then frowned. "Can you go in the sunlight?"

I nodded. He nodded back and grabbed his phone, put his headphones around his neck and put his wallet in his pocket then headed out of his room and downstairs, walking past the rest of the Murphys and my mom, who were all still gathered in the dining room.

"Where are you going, Connor?" Mr. Murphy asked and Connor ignored him completely, pulling his boots on and heading out the door. He didn't hold it open for me but I just walked through the wood.

"What d'you want to listen to?" He asked me, looking through his playlists. I watched over his shoulder as he scrolled and up and down, not settling on anything. I got the feeling he wasn't actually asking what I wanted to listen to but I told him he could just shuffle his liked songs. He nodded and hit shuffle, unplugging his headphones from his phone so I could hear too. After a few songs I'd come to the conclusion that Connor's music tastes were about as emo as him.

"Where're we going?" He asked as we walked down the sidewalk.

"I was uh... fol-following you." I told him.

"I'm just walking." He replied. "Where should we go?"

"You... you were planning o-on going somewhere, right?"

"Yeah, but I got distracted by a ghost." I thought I recognized his walk but actually when we were together, just walking around, he seemed a lot less tense. It looked like being outside sapped all of his energy, like he was always a few seconds from collapsing on the curb, like he barely had motivation to put one foot in front of the other. Private Connor was very different from Public Connor. I guess ghosts don't count as other people, which I guess makes sense. "Was there homework?"

"Yeah."

"Did you do it?"

"Not-not yet."

"Shit."

"Sorry."

I could see a group of teens who looked maybe 16 or 15 a little ways ahead and clearly Connor could too cause his demeanor shifted slightly, just enough for it to be Public Connor. I had to walk a little faster to match his pace now. We walked past the kids and they looked at Connor so he glared at them as he walked past. Sometimes I wish I knew what was going on in his head, why he thought such hostility and anger was necessary all the time.

We left them behind and rounded the corner only to stop in front of a grocery store. Connor stared at the doors for a bit too long, as if considering how much he actually wanted to go in there.

---

i sit down on my desk and open the can of red bull, keeping a close eye on ghost man. he's sitting on the floor (we'd discovered he isn't material enough to sit on chairs or stuff like that) kinda awkwardly, holding his broken arm with his good arm.

"that's just going to be broken forever." i pointed out. "it's not like we can bring it to the doctor's."

"y-yeah i realized that."

"well no worries, i'm the only one you can freak out by putting bones back in place and i'm already used to it." i shrug, taking a long sip from my energy drink.

"do you think that... um... is there anyone who could... hear you talk to m-me?"

"god you stutter a lot." i mutter, then continue out loud. "if they do i don't care, they're not allowed to bother me for another--" i check my clock "--22 hours." i lean against the wall and sigh. "i'm betting you ten bucks that i'm going to do a lot less crying in these 24 hours than any others." i realize i said that with another... person(?) present and shut up immediately. he looks slightly curious about but doesn't ask, which i appreciate. who knew people with social anxiety are so nice to hang out with? they rarely talk, don't pry, basically let you do whatever the fuck you want without complaining.

"it's 10, sh-shouldn't you go to-to-to... uh... sleep?" he says, checking the clock.

"i usually go to sleep at like, midnight and i'm not sleeping at all today. what a waste of good time."

"oh. sorry."

"wanna watch a movie?" he looks pretty surprised by the offer but nods. "whachy'up (you know what i'm going for here, right?) for?"

"oh um... i dunno. w-w-what do you... wanna watch?" annoying thing about hanging out with socially anxious people: they may be decisive but they won't show it unless pressured.

"you tell me." i tie my hair up in a bun and look at my laptop. i've tried scaring netflix into offering me something i want to watch. it doesn't work. "how about... some old disney movie?"

and that stuns him. would you look at that, the big bad connor murphy likes disney movies.

"s-sure."

"what's up with the stutter? i'm not even doing anything and you sound terrified."

"oh, i-i-i just... i just uh... i-i don't r-really... i-i-it's instinct?"

"instinct?"

"no!... i mean... ididn'tmeanthati'msosorryjustyou'rekindascaryandi'mjustusedtobeingonguardandi'msorryshouldistopyou'reactuallyprettyokinprivatebutewhenotherpeoplearearoundyou'reterrifyingandiguessistillconsidermyselfanotherpersonthat'ssostupidi'msorryishouldreallyshutuprightnowi'mmakingthingsworseright?yeahi'mmakingthingsworsei'msosorryi'llstopnow." all of that in one breath. wow.

"i think i understood every other word of whatever the fuck you just said."

"sorry."

"it's fine, i got the message."

"sorry."

"so... about the movie?"

"oh... right. sorry."

"we could also watch a series but god they take so long to get through and my day'll be over before i even know it."

"m-movie then?"

"you pick."

"i'm n-no good at uh... pick-picking things."

"well today's your lucky day, i've narrowed down the options." i then realize how that could do the opposite of help. "feel free to pick anything though, i'm down for whatever.

"c-coraline?" he says in the tiniest voice. it would be cute if it wasn't so heart-wrenchingly pathetic. this guy is just so afraid.

"you like coraline?"

"w-wecannotif-ifyoudon'twanttoi'mso/rry--"

"/shut up." he shuts up. "if i hear you apologize for something dumb you shouldn't apologize for again we're going to have problems. got it?"

"o-ok." i can tell he was about to say sorry again but he caught himself. good. if i have to scare this guy into confidence then goddammit i will scare the shit out of him.

i open my laptop and go over to netflix. i type coraline into the search bar and thank god it's there, i get the feeling if it wasn't evan might cry. not out of sadness though. for some anxiety reason. idk, i don't have it.

i settle on my bed only to realize ghost man can't lay on it so i drag my blanket and pillows to the floor and make a reasonably comfortable spot. i lie down and he sits next to me. i play the movie and try to pretend there isn't a ghost just... sitting next to me. cause i get used to stuff really quickly but ffs let me have an even partially normal life.