𝔵𝔦𝔦 ── You Who Cannot See, Think Of Those Who Can

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🥘twelve

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🥘
twelve.
you who cannot see, think of those who can
. °ʚɞ°.⭒₊

   Carmy Berzatto knew the toxic environment he grew up in, even if he did everything to forget about it; his dysfunctional parents, his gangle of different cousins, his siblings. He was the youngest of the three Berzatto siblings and he was the only one who felt as if he was truly loosing his mind. He was trying not to, for the sake of his brother's restaurant, but he found himself wanting to burn down the whole building so that he would just be over with it. Even though he had enough money to renew the restaurant into something more modern and more affordable. Carmy just wanted to wipe the restaurant off of the face of the earth. He tried doing exercises on easing his chest crushing anxiety, but it never seemed to work.

   He smoked three cigarettes a day (which was very normal for him), rubbed his closed fist against his chest during an attack, but none of it worked and he only got angry as a response. Carmy really was trying to get better since he went to Al-Anon a few times a week, but his head often throbbed with headaches.

   Carmy tried listening to Odessa about managing his anxiety, but he felt like it was consuming his life. He tried so fucking much that he felt as if he couldn't breathe or stand or do anything without an overwhelming sense of dread looming over him like air or a cloud. He really was trying so fucking hard to make this and his relationship work, but he didn't know if it would be worth it in the end.

   All around the restaurant, dust flew as every single thing was being taken off or out in hopes of being repaired and the noise was almost too much for Carmy as he walked around the in construction sandwich shop with Sydney while talking about her father. Power drills whirred mindlessly and ceiling tiles fell onto the floor while music played from Tina's speaker.

They just had twelve weeks before their grand reopening.

"No, it's-its the fridge handle." said Carmy as he spoke into the phone, his finger stuck in his ear to hear the other person on the line better because the other chefs were making loud noises while moving the lockers out of the locker room. "The fridge handle, it keeps, um..it's breaking. Yeah, it's breaking off, yeah."

   More chaos rose as the metal lockers rattled loudly and Carmy's hands lightly shook with anger.

"My number is seven-seven-three," spoke Carmy, jumping at the sound of a locker crashing onto the ground,"five-five-five, uh, zero..zero-nine-zero-one."

After the phone call, Carmy noticed at how silent it was which caused him to worry and he placed his phone to charge as he walked out to see what it was. A lock still on the middle locker. "It's still here." said Fak, his tone of voice was sad and he cut open the padlock with his circulation saw. The lock easily fell apart and it fell with a clink. The door of the metal locker fell open, revealing just a hat inside.

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