Debts To Be Settled

12

Tommy sits at a picnic table by himself. The picnic tables around him are swarmed with people: bustling families, lifelong friends, new and old lovers. Their voices merge together to create a cacophony of sound. It grates on Tommy's ears, but it also makes him feel significantly less alone. He eats the plate of cheesy fries he ordered from one of the food trucks stationed at the edge of the picnic tables. Tommy chews on one thoughtfully as he watches the workers rush around the interior of their metal offices. He idly wonders if he would prefer working in a food truck. He thinks he could make it work, and he knows that it wouldn't be a boring job. It might sometimes be a disgusting one, but Tommy's had to clean his fair share of unsavory stains out of clothing before.

Tommy shakes his head, looking down at the chipped wood. Even if he could get a job at a food truck, he likes making clothing too much. His recent falling out with Nymph has dampened his enjoyment, but there is still work to be done regardless of how his clientele used to be. He likes working for Madeleine. He likes listening to the radio. He even tolerates his coworkers. He has a nice place to stay. Tommy doesn't want his life to change when his current station is far from unbearable.

"Tommy! I had a feeling it was you! Your hoodie is pretty signature," A voice calls out. Tommy looks up from the basket he was eating fries out of. Wilbur is standing in front of him with his own box with the logo of a food truck on it. Tommy was hoping Wilbur would walk away, but the brunette slid onto the bench right beside Tommy. The blonde scoots over to put some distance between them. Wilbur takes this as a sign that Tommy is making space for him.

"Hey, Wilbur," Tommy murmurs distractedly, purposefully avoiding eye contact. He hasn't thought about Wilbur recently, though the feeling of a life debt has not dissipated in his chest. It grows stronger now that Wilbur is right beside him. Tommy has the urge to throw himself in front of a speeding bullet for Wilbur, and Tommy thinks that is highly unfair. This island is literally going to be the death of him. The debt system is wack. Someone with a lot more time than Tommy but just as much intelligence as him should start looking into how to dismantle the entire system. Or, at least, find a way to exempt Tommy.

"Where's Natalie?" Wilbur asks. Not even a few days ago, Tommy and Nymph- who went by the alias 'Natalie'- came out to get lunch together. Wilbur joined their little get together. As far as Tommy could tell, they all had fun together. They talked about interesting topics. There were times when Tommy made them laugh with his silly antics. There were even times when Wilbur and Nymph would make Tommy howl so loudly he was flushed with both amusement and embarrassment.

Now, he just flinches away from Wilbur's friendly stare. His fingers smush the fry currently in his hold. Tommy scowls at the disgusting mush now in his palm. He uses a napkin to wipe his hand as he mutters to Wilbur. "We went our separate ways."

"That doesn't sound good," Wilbur empathetically states, clearly noticing Tommy's aggressive reactions to the mention of Natalie's name. To Wilbur, Tommy and Natalie were old friends who recently reunited. Part of their story was that they had a falling out in their past. Tommy laughed bitterly for a while after he realized this was the falling out part of their backstory. He doubts they will recover their friendship (and it really wasn't a friendship) in a few years.

"It's none of your damn concern," Tommy snaps, glaring at Wilbur. He learned a long time ago that friendship was for idiots and naive suckers. Tommy knew this, and yet he decided to indulge a vigilante and the man Tommy owes a life debt to. He would have had better luck randomly befriending a drug addict in a back alley, but Tommy has never made the right decisions. In fact, ever since he met the bloody Phantasm in that alleyway, Tommy has been making all the wrong ones.

"I think it is my concern. I mean, we're friends. Friends have to look out for one another, don't you think?" Wilbur tells Tommy, bumping their shoulders together as he opens the box with his food. Steam rises up from the chicken tenders and fries. Wilbur moves aside the fork/spoon/napkin packaging unit to get to his food.