Bit by Bit [II AU]

Anger

OJ rocked back and forth in his office chair. His body couldn't stop moving. The stress of that nightmare was getting to him. He knows it shouldn't, dreams don't mean anything, but it still lingered.

Suddenly, Pickle walked in. "Yo, OJ, just wanted to let you know the TV broke again. Definitely not my fault by the way..."

OJ sighed. "Just.. go get someone else to fix it. I'm busy right now."

"You've said that for every single problem I've told you so far for a week now!"

"Look, there's more important things going on in the hotel than a single TV breaking!" OJ snapped, turning back to his computer to pretend to work.

Pickle scowled slightly and quickly left the room, mumbling something under his breath.

OJ ignored this, but couldn't help but feel guilty for the way he spoke to Pickle. Was it too aggressive? Was it the right thing to say? What if he hates me now?

He shook his head and went back to work. The work? Trying to figure out what that goddamn feeling was in this hotel.

=

Within a blink, it was dark out, and he was in bed again. His body shivered from the cold, and from the fear another nightmare would happen.

This is stupid. He thought to himself. I'm a grown man. I should not be freaking out over a frickin nightmare.

Despite the attempts to protest his anxiety, it refused to go away. He sighed, rolling over in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position.

He tried occupying his mind on something else. His blackouts. He often had them when he was stressed out. He had no recollection of when they started or why, but his friends and Paper would tell him what he would do during them. It was mostly the same things he would usually do: work, pay bills, occasionally converse with the hotel occupants, but always said it felt like he was a different person in those moments...

He went back to tossing and turning. Eventually, the aggravation was too much. He got up, took some melatonin, and lied back down, slowly falling asleep.

--

I can't keep doing this. How many times will I wake up? How many times will the blackouts happen? Why is it happening to me? How long has this been going on?

Time is nothing here. Seconds could be years, years could only be hours. I see faces of people I don't recognize yet feel so familiar.

Paper...

Pickle...

Knife...

Lightbulb...

Balloon...

Taco...

Taco.

Why does her face feel the most familiar? What did she do...

Oh.

I remember now.

--

When OJ awoke, he felt queasy. Attempting to shake off the feeling, he stood up and got himself ready for work.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His face drooped from exhaustion. He thought to himself for a minute, trying to remember any dreams he might have had, but nothing popped up. Instead, he heard a knock on his door.

He swiftly walked over and opened it, only to find Paper on the other side.

"Um.. OJ? We have a visitor..." he mumbled.

OJ quickly sprung into action, heading downstairs without a word. He opened the front doors to see Balloon standing there, holding a notebook in his hands.

"Oh! Hey, OJ I just.. uh.." Balloon looked down at the notebook. "I just wanted to come over and apologize for the way I acted and all... You see.." he continued to read off the words in the notebook, but OJ was no longer paying attention. He felt something in him boil, but he didn't know what.

--

What are you doing here.

Why. Are you. Still. Coming. Back?!

You stupid shithead. What will it take for you to LEAVE US ALONE?!

WE WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU, FUCKING SNAKE.

FUCK YOU. GET OUT.

GET OUT.

GET.

OUT!

--

Tears poured out of Balloon's eyes when OJ blinked back to reality. He was shocked by the sudden jump of emotions. What just happened??

"I'm..." Balloon choked on his own words. "Sorry..."

He proceeded to walk away, crying much harder now. OJ stood in the doorway, bewildered. What did he say to Balloon to make him cry like that?

He turned around, only to see the other hotel occupants staring at him in horror.

"OJ..." Pickle whispered. "What the fuck was that?"

"I..." OJ was unsure of what to say, because he was completely unsure of what just happened. "I need a minute." He immediately ran into his office, locking himself inside as he paced around the room.

Great. Not only is theres something wrong with the hotel, but now everyone saw him yell at Balloon. He doesn't even know what he yelled, but he knows he yelled! He felt a ringing in his ears.

--

I hate yelling.

--

OJ felt himself cry a bit, tapping on his glass harder than normal. Make it stop, he thought to himself. His head was spinning in confusion and guilt. Why couldn't he remember?! WHY COULDN'T HE-

He heard the sound of a crack.