Slow Changes (Whizzvin)

Part III. Another Sleepless Night

Jason had just went home from Whizzer's. He had to talk to Marvin and Marvin didn't want to hear anything about Whizzer at this hour. Marvin couldn't believe his son liked his ex more than he liked him. Meanwhile, Marvin decides to check the mail and finds out the things Trina and Mendel have kept from him.

No honest trigger warnings besides Marvin being a douche.

Marvin's Point of View: March 27th, 1979. 10:23pm

My son finally fucking came home from my ex boyfriend's house. Who does he think he is to stay there all day and not even talk to me for anything but dinner? I sigh and give him a small "Hi, Jason." He then greets me back with an overly enthusiastic "Hi, dad! Thanks for the dinner earlier. I saved you the coconut cream chocolates." He hands me 3 bar-shaped chocolates and I put them on a napkin and in the freezer. He follows me into the kitchen.

"So, what did Whizzer talk about?" See, I know they had to have talked about me behind my back. Why would they do that when they both know I'm more important than them? "We just played some chess and talked about me learning Latin." I don't believe it, but I respond with a flat "That's cool."

"Dad, why do you hate Whizzer?" I can't believe he would ask that! "Because he's a dumb fucking asshole who's not even worth my time. Why do you seem to love him so much, Jason?" He's so fucking annoying with his love for Whizzer. "Because I became his friend thinking he'd be my new stepdad and he was very nice to me and he played chess with me and he's nicer than you, dad!" Jason was crying. Because of his love for my dumbass ex boyfriend.

"Can we change the subject, dad?" Oh, so now he's acting all innocent and crying and playing victim? I'm the victim here! "No. No, we can't." Jason seems to be even sadder. He can't be sad right now. I should be the sad one!

"Dad, please?" I just walk off. I don't have time for all of his "I love Whizzer soooo much!" nonsense. I'm his father. Not that gigolo. I just walk out of the house. Jason goes back to his bedroom and I can see through the window that he's... Playing chess by himself. God, he's weird.

I sit on the porch, hands folded. I get lost in my own thoughts. Maybe Whizzer's actually happy now. Maybe I shouldn't have left him. Maybe in 2 days this'll all be over. Hell, maybe 2 months. Wait- Jews don't believe in hell. Maybe it'll be 27 and a half years. Maybe we won't ever see each other again. What if we don't? That thought will haunt me.

Sure, I could've been somewhat better but it was his fault too! He's a shitty boyfriend, right? I should hate him, right? But I don't! I don't. I don't think I ever will. He was with me for... 10 months? But he always said 9. Maybe because it was our 10th month and he had only counted whole months or something.

What I'm saying is that I hate and love Whizzer. I never wanted to love him. No one wants to love who they're with. Love is something we just... Do. I look at the sky. Whizzer always loved the sky. We used to stargaze. We would get a small blanket out and lay down on it. I would say random nerdy shit that he wouldn't understand and then he would hold my hand tighter, saying he would never leave my side.

The sky is clear tonight. It didn't rain today, even though it's March. Rain was somewhat calming to me because you would walk and just be left alone in your thoughts and some weird musty smell and it the background you would be able to hear a soft "tip tap tip tap" of little droplets. It would still be annoying when your favourite shirt was drenched or-in Whizzer's case-when your hair was drenched.

Whizzer was always stylish. Especially with his hair. He tried to take me shopping and explain all the cool brands and what was in and what colours looked good together once. I just thought it was bullshit. He would tell me "Oh, don't get THAT tie. It's knit. That's preposterous, Marvin!". I don't get what he had against knit ties. I like my things tight knit.

I don't know why people feel the need to dress some way or another. It's literally fucking trousers. Who cares if it's pink fucking booty shorts or pants with odd flower embroideries? In all, fashion is not my thing. Who invented fashion? Who said "Knit ties are so weird!"? I have now come to the conclusion that Whizzer invented fashion to mess with me.

Well, I haven't checked the mail today, but this chair is a bit... Comfortable. This position I'm in, sitting wise, is comfortable. This position I'm in, relationship wise, is not comfortable. The mailbox is 20 feet away from me, somewhat staring at me. I don't know why I feel like checking the mailbox or why it's such an impulse right now, but I give in.

I get out of my chair. My beloved comfortable chair. I take a small step off the front porch and walk to the mailbox. There's a little card. Without checking the address, I proceed to open the card and am greeted by a little cute wedding cake card. Are my second cousins in Ohio getting married?

I read the card. It's in perfect cursive, like Trina always writes in but a bit girlier. Like the handwriting Mendel uses when he takes notes on me. "We have invited you to our wedding to be held on May 27th at 8pm. The location for the occasion has not been chosen, but it will probably be held in New York, New York. You have been invited because you are either a friend of Mendel or Trina."

And that's when I knew I had to go to Trina's house. I'm sure she chose him to make me look bad.

A/N: 1039 words! Got this out at 9:25pm so I almost didn't make my daily post. Have fun, best friends! Also, thanks DumbTheatreKid and WH1ZZERW1NS for the love and support.