I start to notice how he winces when he shifts sitting positions as time goes on. At first I dismiss it- work can do that to a guy. But it happens so often in such short stretches of time that I start to get a little concerned.
"Hey, Arthur," I say during a lull in conversation. He looks up. "You're sorta-" he shifts and it comes again, a tiny little flicker of pain before his expression smooths out again. "That," I say lamely. "You alright?"
"Yeah," he says, and it's too quick to be honest. I narrow my eyes.
"What happened?" I ask quietly.
"Got jumped," he says, shrugging as if it's no big deal.
"What?" I exclaim, trying to keep my voice down. People get jumped here all the time, but who would jump him, y'know? He doesn't exactly look like he's got money or anything worth stealing. "Why?"
"They thought it was funny, I guess," Arthur replies, looking away. "I want to be a comedian, but at the moment I'm a clown," he says, tone a little rueful.
I frown. "You shittin' me? Clowns are cool. Kids don't like 'em much now, but when I was little I thought they were the best," I lean back in my seat. I notice my accent coming out thicker than before, which happens when I'm not watching it or I get upset.
"Wait," I say, sitting up again. "Turn your head?" I ask, and he does, looking confused. "Yeah, you got paint on ya," I mumble, reaching up and rubbing my thumb across the fleck of white on the side of his face.
"It happens," Arthur says, and laughs a little nervously. I let myself laugh with him, a little softer, a little lower. My fingers rest on his cheek for way longer than they need to be there, and he looks back at me, a little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. I let out a breath and move my hand back to rest in my lap.
I open my mouth to say something, but the bus shudders to a stop. Midtown.
"Oh. Um. This is my stop," I grin, standing up and picking up my backpack.
"It's mine, too," Arthur says, and I can feel my smile get wider.
"Wait, where do you live, in Midtown?" I ask as I walk off the bus, with him behind me.
"A tiny apartment building," he shrugs. "Sort of in the middle of everything."
"Yeah?" I say. "I'm right in the middle too. Also in a tiny apartment building."
He laughs a little. "I have to stop at the pharmacy first," he says, a little bit of an apology in his voice.
I just shrug. "Fine by me. You want me to wait outside or somethin'?" I pause. "I mean, if you want. I could just-" I jerk my thumb in the opposite direction, where a shortcut to my place is.
"No, it's fine," he smiles at me and I have to look down to stop the blush that's creeping over my face.
"Outside it is, then," I say, and we start walking. It becomes clear really quick that he lives in a nastier part of town. It just seems darker over here, and I recognize the streets- I used to live here. Well, before the foster care people found me, that is, but I used to live here. Two drunks beat the shit out of each other on the corner as we stop outside a run-down drugstore.
"I'll wait out here," I say.
Arthur frowns a little. He looks over at the drunks. "Will you be okay?"
"Won't be long, will it?" I ask.
"No," he replies.
"Then I'll be fine," I reply, smiling. He returns it and walks into the store.
YOU ARE READING
➸ viva la vida (arthur fleck x oc) ✅
Fanfictionarthur fleck can honestly say he's never had a friend. but he has a purpose- his journey to becoming a stand-up comedian, and his dream of making people happy. he dresses as a clown and spins signs for stores, and lives with his mother, and goes to...
