Flaws and Cracks

Let's Play Again Next Time, Ok?

You're a rotten thief, Jay. First you steal my friends, then you steal my boyfriend.

It's really not fair.

He leans on the bathroom sink as he stares at himself reflected in the stained, glass mirror. It's hung loosely on the wall and looks seconds away from falling off its screws.

It fits pretty well with the 'so depressing that the walls look seconds away from caving in and dying' aesthetic the place has going on. Everything from the sickly walls covered in grime to the singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling that does little to chase off the shadows that cling to the corners of the room just scream bad housekeeping.

He distantly wonders if Dan ever cleans this place or if he doesn't bother keeping the bathroom sanitary for his captives.

On that note, what would they do if the pipes decided to give out on them or the toilet decided to clog, I mean, HAS the toilet ever clogged down here or- wait, an even better question is where do the pipes in this bathroom even lead to? An exit, right?

He cocks his head and wonders if this tidbit of information would be of any use to the others. It'd probably be worth a shot even if it turns out to be useless.

He considers running back out there and trying to pitch his idea but, as he's idly bouncing on his heels, he thinks of smiles falling of faces upon his arrival, he thinks of looking around and only seeing turned heads, he thinks of pretty blue eyes looking amused but taken off of him a little too soon, he thinks of blue and black hair a little too close to blonde hair-

Well  he thinks cheerfully on the bright side, at least there's a toilet right here, because I kind of feel like throwing up.

But instead of doing that, he leans forward on the sink again, fingers wrapped around the water stained rim and absently reaches a hand out to touch his reflection. It reminds him of middle school, before he developed a filter and would just blabber on and on and on about whatever piqued his interest that day until one of his classmates mercifully told him to shut up.

If he was extra obnoxious that day, he'd be shunned into the corner with his little duck drawings in hand, helplessly looking around for anyone that would want to talk to him.

He'd keep looking and looking like the naive fool he was even when the annoyed whispers and harsh looks from his classmates caught up to him.

Then he'd go home and stare into his mirror, taking in his shiny braces and acne riddled face, and he'd just start picking apart every little flaw or crack he could find in his reflection. Was it his voice? Was he just ugly? Or did he talk too much? Maybe his personality was just really annoying? He'd spend hours and hours on end trying to figure out what it was.

What was it about him that was so utterly unlikable?

A loud gurgle snaps him out of his thoughts. He glances over at the toilet as it croaks and bubbles concerningly. He just blinks at it for a few seconds.

Then, out of the blue, he feels his shoulders shake as he begins to laugh at himself.

Ok, now I'm just being a baby.

He huffs, half amused and half frustrated with himself for thinking about his dumb middle school sad boy phase when they're literally being held captive right now. Clearly, his concerns are in the right place.

He just shakes his head at himself in amusement once more before turning around to exit the crumbling bathroom.

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