Basorexia - J.MAGUIRE

[4.68] negotiations

The group, this time including Clare who was on the phone and rigged into contraption including a microphone which meant they could all hear everything she said, helped to decorate the hall for Orla and Erin's birthday party. There were various pieces of the jungle and huge cardboard cutouts of literary greats all strewn about the hall with little pattern or means of design. They were just kind of putting things up where they looked the best, often moving them into different places if it did not look right to one person. Michelle was tense and silent, often lugging and putting things down with a force that they simply did not require. "Is that your Uncle Colm?" she asked Erin abruptly, peering at this one cardboard statue that did in fact look a lot like her Uncle.

"That's Samuel Beckett," Erin responded with a frown, obviously not seeing the resemblance.

"One boring bastard looks much like another, I suppose," Michelle trailed off with a shrug, hauling some log resembling thing across the room. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about... What was the face all about?"

Erin frowned, a tension beginning to thicken the atmosphere of the room. "What face?"

Orla, completely oblivious to the conversation, threw a stuffed monkey at Chip surprisingly. She caught it, after fumbling for a second, and laughed softly along with Orla. Chip, who had been sat on the floor, stood and threw the monkey at James. He failed to catch it, the stuffed animal ending up smacking him in the face. Chip gasped softly, immediately apologising, whilst the other two burst into laughter as the monkey hit the floor.

"Oh it's in your repertoire all right, Erin!" Michelle yelled, suddenly stopping the mini game of catch the other three had been completely absorbed in. Orla hugged the monkey into her chest as they all slowly walked forward, forming a small huddle off to the side of the argument."I've seen you whip it out over a dozen times, usually when you find something hard to believe. What was hard to believe, Erin?"

Erin stammered, "It was just when you said that you didn't want to get your hopes up... You don't actually think he should get out, do you?"

"He's me brother," Chelle responded as if it was completely obvious. The topic of her brother was one that Chip knew never to bring up. Michelle's funks were almost always caused by missing her brother or some deeper thoughts that she never verbalised. Despite the fact that Chip helped her through the funks, they never said a singular word about her brother. Not even a word that could be considered a reference. It was just that sore of a topic.

"He killed someone."

"It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did," Michelle responded softly, frown replacing her vexation of before.

Erin scoffed, folding her arms, "I'm sure that poor man's family takes great comfort in that."

Chip winced softly, knowing that was it and the argument was no longer recoverable. Michelle ranted, "These things, they're not black and white, Erin. Nothing about this place is!"

"Well I think the fact that you shouldn't kill people is pretty black and white!"

"Fuck off, Erin. And what would you know, anyway? You're nothing but a spoilt, selfish, sheltered wee brat!" Michelle spat back, voice laced so thickly with hatred that it genuinely surprised everyone. Chip comforted Orla, rubbing circles on her back as she had long ago covered her ears to not hear the yells. Michelle proceeded to storm out, punching a literary great as she went. She stopped at the door and turned, yelling, "James!" She disappeared after that, the door swinging closed with a clank.

"Sorry... You know, the cousin thing..." James apologised before he headed out too, gently closing the door behind him.

"Christ," Chip mumbled, unsure of what else there was to say.