Anxious Relationships

Part 2: We Need To Talk

Something's been 'off' about Patton lately. 

I mean, he acts like he normally does, he smiles, he laughs, waves, and talks - but it seems a little forced, or unnatural, like a performance. He can't fool me - I'm Anxiety - I know a fake smile when I see one.

There's some other things too, he seems a bit laggy and not as excited as usual. Trust me, I'm the last person to put pressure on someone for not being 'excited enough' . . . but it's Patton. He's been waking up later and going to bed earlier, and when noone's looking he gets this foggy look in his eyes.

If he's going through something he doesnt want to talk about that's fine, but . . . he shouldn't go about life like everything's okay when it's not.

Like I said, I'm Anxiety, and I could very well be blowing things out of proportion and Patton may be just fine, but it's been bothering me and I'm getting restless.

It's 2 in the afternoon now, and Patton still hasn't come out of his room, which is concerning since he's quite the early bird. He hasn't baked anything or made any snacks all week, which . . . it's not like he's not expected to, but it's odd.

Anyway, I'm going to turn the tables and be the one to bake him cookies.

 . . . I mean, he loves them and maybe he needs a reminder that we're there for him and - look I know this is wierd coming from me, and trust me it definately feels wierd, but someone needs to do something and it's not like I'm gonna ask anyone else to do anything about something that might all be in my head! 

 . . . I'm just gonna play some music while I bake to stop myself from thinking.

Okay, so . . . cooking is definately not for me. Rather than cheering anyone up the mere sight of my homemade monstrosities would be enough to make a grown man cry. The first batch was so soft that they were all falling apart, so I took out the second batch later and - big surprise - they ended up burnt. There was still some dough left, and I had pretty much given up, so I literally just ate it. For taking something meant to bring sweetness and joy and basically making them unedible, I deserve the stomache ache to come.

But if I stay here any longer the cookies will get cold and Patton likes them fresh out of the oven. As I reach for the plate I hear footsteps. I opened all the windows so no one would smell anything, and no one would come. I quickly put the plate into a cupboard and start to clean the counter. It's Princey.

"What happened here? Were you cooking something?"

"No! Go away, I'm cleaning." You bake cookies, right? So technically I wasn't really lying. 

"The kitchen is a common area Virgil, and you're covered in flour . . . and wearing an apron."

He's got me there.

"-Virgil, could you please turn down the music?"

"Logan! What conclusions can you make about what Virgil was doing just now?"

Dang it, Princey!

"Well, seeing that he is wearing an apron that is covered in flour, I'd assume that he must have been baking something - which is curious. I would not expect Virgil to engage in such an activity. Virgil?

Great. They're both looking straight at me, and Prince has the most smug look ever. 

I gotta get out of this.

"Okay, I promise to answer all of your questions but only if you leave now and go to your rooms."

"Oooh! Virgil has a secret!" I hate so much his teasing tone.