Digust and Why it Feels Like Love

Chapter 1

Janus pondered into the mirror, his hands ruffling across the fabric around his neck to straighten his collar. The fabulist stared back at himself in uneasy dissatisfaction.

He grumbled, a low noncommittal sound as quiet as the air in his metaphorical lungs.

Hissing softly, he lowered his hands to adjust his belt.

Janus sighed as he pulled his gloves on, adjusting his hat.

Another day of hijinks and bruised egos surely awaited.

It was filming day, and Janus could hear every other side flitting about the mind palace in reckless abandon racing as fast as Thomas's thoughts.

The serpent chuckled to himself.

He heard Logan shouting, trying in a futile struggle to get everything in order. And there was a certain flamboyant prince shouting dramatic insults carelessly about, and Patton attempting to calm the collective energy down.

Janus stepped out of his room to asses the full chaos of the situation, nearly barreling straight into Roman.

"Geez! Watch where your going, Jack the Fibber, you could have thrown off my groove!"

Janus rolled his eyes, his face settling into that of slight displeasure.

“Oh my apologies, your majesty. Shall I roll out the red carpet and grovel at your feet?”

He drawled sarcastically, looking nonchalantly at his gloved hand as though he were examining his fingernails.

“Well. It wouldn’t hurt.”

Roman huffed, clearly not catching on to the snake’s tone of voice.

Janus almost would have found it amusing if he wasn't annoyed. He shoved nonchalantly past the theoretical prince, who scoffed at him incredulously over his shoulder.

Roman dusted off his arm that Janus had made contact with, his face painted in exaggerated disgust.

The creative side found himself incredibly relieved that, unless someone had changed the script, the side of deceit would be blissfully absent from today’s episode.

He was not the side dedicated to patience after all, and when it came to the serpentine storyteller it ran rather thin.

Roman shook off his discomfort and continued on his insistent and pestering escapade of badgering Logan about the lighting setup.

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Janus walked solemnly down the hall, Remus clambering after him close behind. The side of lewd creativity was babbling horrible musings completely stream of consciousness, Janus never emoting more than the occasional grimace as he was subjected to the unpleasant ponderings.

It was times like this that he was particularly exasperated that Thomas's very embodiment of intrusive thoughts considered him a friend. Although, Janus thought begrudgingly, he was at least glad to be considered a friend by anyone at all.

He often found himself envious of how seamlessly Virgil had won the affections of the ‘light sides’ but always chastised himself for it. He couldn't pretend he wasn’t hurt by Virgil’s abandonment, well.. actually he could, but as much as he could fool others he couldn’t lie to himself no matter how good at it he was.

The burden of a liar is knowing the truth.

And the truth was; had the roles been reversed, Janus would have left himself too.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts to the best of his ability. It was these kinds of thoughts that he would later drown with theoretical alcohol.

Remus was in the middle of a horrible, like- world ending toe curling vomit inducing, pickup line when The deceitful side felt a sudden head rush.

His knees buckled and his visage shimmered, his entire metaphorical body running cold. It felt as though he had stopped existing and started all over again.

It left Janus feeling sick, curling into himself helplessly as his vision swam.

There was a thrumming pain in his every molecule that was agonizingly lucid, like his entire body had been meticulously disassembled and then reassembled.

He was brought back to reality by the insistent hand of his compatriot shaking him by the shoulder, his constant pestering coming into focus over the ringing in his ears.

"Woah there JanJan! You okay? You dying? You need mouth to mouth to mouth? Here let me take your pulse-"

Janus was shocked back into sobriety when Remus unceremoniously grabbed a handful of his ass.

The fibber slapped the offending hand away with a roll of his eyes.

Remus laughed and offered an actual helping hand, pulling the snake onto his feet.

“Seriously tho uh what was that? You been slamming em back without me? Takin a chip off the ol bottle? I mean not that I wouldn't do the same thing but Thomas isn’t even awake yet so what's the deal-”

If Janus didn’t know better he’d think the side was worried about him.

“I’m not drunk, Remus.”

He drawled, mildly distressed at how heavy his tongue felt in his mouth.

Remus playfully rolled his eyes.

“And you claim to not speak in lies. Well. Go ahead then. I’m gonna have to ask you to walk in a straight line.”

Remus said the last part into an intercom he manifested out of thin air, his outfit morphing to that of a slutty police costume akin to ones you’d buy online.

But Janus wasn’t listening. He was too involved in the spiraling of his own thoughts, his gaze far off and empty.

Janus once again wished he could lie to himself as well as he could to others. That he could say with false certainty that he was fine and then actually beleive it.

But as we’ve determined before, the one thing a liar knows best is the truth.

And the truth was.

Janus was dying.