The Neighbor Next Door

Distractions; Conversations.

MePhone woke up a lot earlier than he intended to on Saturday. He wasn't supposed to go over to the other's home until around seven, which meant he had too much time to kill now, which kind of sucked, though he was also a bit stressed. Not just at the idea of going over-- though it was more nervousness if anything, but because his brother never texted him yesterday. He specifically asked, only for silence. This terrified him. He already felt a bit insecure most of the time his brother was over, but now he was just so worried his brother was going to ghost him. Even if the number he had been texting wasn't even him, the one he was given WAS. He knew that for a fact now, but... He couldn't text first, right? That would look desperate. If he was going to be texted, he didn't want to do anything to scare him away. So he just had to worry, and wait for a text back. It wasn't even noon yet, so he just had nothing but time.

Though, at least he had some sort of distraction, hopefully. He got off of the couch, having fallen asleep on it last night, heading to his room. He had to pick out something casual to wear tonight. A movie viewing with a... Friend? He didn't really consider Fan a friend yet, but he didn't have any better words to use, so he just decided to go with it as he shuffled through his closet. It was still warm, and summer, so he'd just stick with a t-shirt and shorts. He had plenty of those, but he wanted to pick out good colours today. Most of his wardrobe ranged from blues, purples, to gray, and he certainly didn't want to go with gray today. That was too dull. Plus, Fan was surely colourful enough, so he didn't want to stick out too badly.

He ended up picking out a light purple shirt, and some regular blue shorts. That would be fine. He adjusted his glasses, letting out a small, accomplished sigh, before his worries immediately crept back in. So much for a valid distraction. He didn't even really have any laundry to do either, so any bit of his routine was already off the table. He just let out a less than content sigh, more so exasperated now. Maybe he'd just take a nap, and pray he would wake up both on time, and with a text back from his brother. He hated feeling so worried and nervous for what was probably nothing.

...

3gs had passed out as soon as he had gotten back to his apartment. Driving always made him a bit tired, and mixed with him not exactly sleeping well in his childhood home, he couldn't help it, not even going to his and his fiance's bed, rather falling asleep in one of the chairs in their living space.

Of course, after weeks of not having a single dream, this is when his mechanical brain had thought to push him back into what was essentially one of his old, buried memories.

He was a child. He doesn't remember how old he was. He just knew when he was activated, he was told he was already eight years old. Not physically, but mentally, and he had gone from there. This was a few years after this though, when his stoic, and distant dad's kinder facade cracked for the first time. He had gotten in trouble at school for the first time ever. He thought it would be funny, and he had pushed someone during lunch, and the kid had ended up falling out of their seat, and hitting their head on the table on the way down. Something 3gs vaguely felt bad for after it happened, but he felt more terrible when his dad was called in from his surely important work, to come get his son out of school and out of the way for the day. The car ride home had been completely silent. 3gs was worried he'd get scolded, since the teachers, and the principal scolded him, but somehow, the complete silence from his dad felt worse. It was only when the two of them got home, when Cobs led him to the unused room in the house. 3gs had never been in there, but in the following years, he would end up in there a lot. Not the room though. Not as a whole. 3gs watched, peeking over the wall as his dad opened up the closet in the room, currently empty, his cold, frustrated gaze moving to look at his son.

"Do you know how much time you've just caused me to waste?"
"I'm sorry," A phrase that was bitter on his tongue to this day. He hated having to apologize, but this was the first time he had said it to his dad.