My Characters' Collective Journal

Entry 1: Sept. 15th, 2018

Ethan:

    Well, Gabriel put it well enough - I really am a turnip. For those of you who don't know Gabe, he's the best lemon friend a guy could ask for. He's hyper like a toddler and will eat all your lemon-flavored foods, but he's genuinely kind to those he sincerely cares about. Anyways, I'm such a turnip. What was meant as an evening with my friends 57 and Gabriel at my place to watch some movies ended up becoming a full-blown party. How, you may ask? Because somehow I bloody forwarded my invitation to every single contact I've ever met. I'm talking about all these people I have met at high school parties starting my freshmen year, and considering how often I switch schools, they've piled up. Even this weird guy named Galar got an invite, and I'm 99% sure his "phone" is an old banana peel. Anyways, case in point, I messed up disastrously. I wasn't gonna let the mistake get the best of me, however. After I got Gabe settled in with plenty of food and showing him where my room (acting as the movie theatre area for the evening) was, we hopped downstairs in search of our other friend, 57. 57 is somewhat shy but the girl is as sweet as a sugar plum. I think she has a thing for Gabe, if you get where I'm coming from... gihee. So she was curled up in the corner by the front door beside some bags of groceries and the one item she never leaves home without, an umbrella. Dashing in her direction, we welcomed her to the party as to make her feel more comfortable. We were chatting and she pulls out some lemons along with a mirror, for some odd reason. She then handed me the mirror and gave Gabriel his bag of store bought lemons. 57 then proceeds to tell me that she didn't know what I liked, but that most narcissists like to look at themselves, and hence she found me a mirror to check myself out with. That's when my heart dropped, frankly. Am I a narcissist? I don't believe so, but what if I'm wrong and I somehow portray myself in a way that makes it seem like I am? Maybe I do flaunt my rather good looks and charming smile to fellow ladies and whatnot, but does that make me self-indulged enough to qualify as practicing narcissism? Simply put, I made an excuse to her face about needing to go perform "host stuff," like making sure the party was running smoothly, and left. I know 57 isn't human but rather this lab-made robot thing with life-like qualities, but I really wish she understood that there's some things ya don't tell a person to their face. She's learning, of course, but I wish she knew that lesson before today. From there on, I joined this little collection of people outside my sister's bedroom, including my friend Chris and my twin sister Emi. We exchanged a few words about what was up and all came to the agreement that this party wasn't on Ethan's Top 10 of Best Parties Ever Created list. Suddenly, Jaiden came out of the blue and gave us all this pep talk of sorts? I don't know, but the guy weirds me out. He's the newest addition and I don't know much about him since he hardly talks. He just stands there staring at you with these golden eyes that makes your skin crawl. Jaiden isn't so verbal in expressing his thoughts, but rather communicates like a caveman with a select series of grunts and loud eyerolls. When he does actually verbalize, you're lucky if you get a sentence with three whole words strung together. On his suggestion though, I returned to my friends and quickly made up with 57 based off the previous conflict. Things were going smoothly and we were making more small talk until there was a knock on the door. Whoever was on the other side claimed that they were delivering from Pizza Hut. Gabe and 57 simultaneously pulled a face and questioned if I had ordered pizza. I hadn't, but you never know if one of your party-goers is gonna order some crap, so I obviously answered the door. Another grave mistake as I came face-to-face with Gabriel's weird, stalkerish ex-friend who held a glock straight to my face. I threw my hands defensively up, startled by Clyde demanding to be let inside before he shot my face clean off. Basically, that's where the narrators left off for the evening. Fantastic, isn't it? Nothing makes for a good night's sleep quite like knowing you've got a character being held at bloody gunpoint! But question, Journal - how do you get out of this type of situation without sacrificing Gabriel? I can only hope negotiations work out. Later!
———————————————————————
Chris: