March - Falsettos Oneshots

Phone Calls

Yo! I'm back! In case y'all were wondering where I was, I just got back from an engineering program at Georgia Tech in which I had very little free time to do anything, including be on here! I actually wrote this partway after one of my finals and partway on the plane ride! Which means it's not been edited much but oh well. This one is another bit of the dead gay dads saga in which Trina receives a 'phone call' from Whizzer. Hope ya enjoy! (I have another one I started on the plane but haven't finished yet so stay tuned for that!) ~ Whizzer (PS just realizing how much I sound like I'm from the midwest - I'm not for the record)

I stumble over to the kitchen with a giggle. Just one more bottle. In an attempt to grab the wine bottle, I knock it over into the sink, causing it to shatter into a million deadly yet beautiful shards. Is wine always this light? I glance down at my hand and see a large green chunk of glass sticking out of it. I fumble around for a bit, trying to yank it out, but I fail, pushing it in further. I yelp in pain, but before I know it, I feel the shard being pulled out gently, being replaced with a paper towel. I need to sit down. I need to sit down. I'm going crazy.

I collapse onto the couch, feeling a slight pressure on my hand from some unknown source. Suddenly, I hear a loud voice emanating from behind me. It appears to be coming from the telephone. Strangely enough, the pressure on my hand disappears just before the voice begins speaking. Curiously, I make my way over there, only tripping three (or was it four?) times on the way. I latch onto the wall as to not fall, and I grip the phone, dragging it to my ear.

"God?" I slur, confused. The voice on the other end laughs. Wait, I recognize that laugh. "Whizzer? How're you doin'? 'S Marvin there?"

"Uh, I didn't expect you to treat this as though it were a normal occurrence. Trina, you know I'm dead right?" Whizzer replies, concerned. "Or are you too drunk to remember that incredibly basic fact about the plot of our lives?"

"You're dead? Huh. What's it like?"

"You're not going to ask how I'm communicating with you or anything? Why am I not surprised?" he sighs.

"We're talking on the phone, silly," I say, proud of how logical I can be while under the influence.

"Right. So I need advice. Marvin went to school with Jason today, so it's just us."

"Ugh, Marvin. Sometimes I really don't miss him," I reply with a groan. "Though I do care about his well being. How is he doing by the way? Is he miserable?"

"Do you want him to be? Well he's doing alright. And we're still dead. There's been no real change with that. But I wanted to rant to someone about him, and what better person than his ex-wife who is probably too drunk to comprehend what's going on?"

"Hey, I understand what you're saying!"

"...I'd assume so. I meant that you would probably forget that this situation ever happened. That or you'd think it was some weird dream. And Mendel certainly wouldn't believe you if you told him what happened."

"Can't argue with that. So Marvin. He's... gay."

"Yes. And so am I. Is that really all you have to say about him? Well anyways, I was planning on doing something nice for him, as you know, we're like married in the afterlife. But I have no idea what we could do, since we're both ghosts," Whizzer says calmly. "Ghosts are not usually able to do typical alive-person things. We can't really interact with objects. At least not large ones. Somehow, I was able to figure out the phone. And a pen and paper, but that's beside the point. What do you think he'd enjoy."

"Can't you guys just have sex or something?" I supply.

"Trina. No. Don't talk about our sex life. It's weird. But I mean, like cute, couply things."

"You could cuddle."

"We do that daily."

"Get drunk?"

"That's your thing."

"Then I don't know."

"Very helpful. Well since you won't give me any ideas, let's just talk. I'll go first. So recently, Marvin and I have been extremely worried about Jason and his new girlfriend. She doesn't seem like the type of girl to be okay with not getting exactly what she wants, and that might not be good for Jason. Especially since she appears to want to have sex with almost every boy she's gone out with, and Jason is most likely asexual," Whizzer says, concerned. I can practically hear his frown through the phone.

"Does he need to talk to Mendel about it?" I question, hopefully being somewhat helpful.

"No, but it would probably help him to discuss her. He needs to be okay with being ace, yet that'll be hard for him if he's dating a girl like her."

"What's her name?"

"Wait, he hasn't told you about this? Her name is Stevie Crow, and Jason seems to find her the prettiest girl in school. Yet, she's so dangerous (at least for a teenager) that Jason's bullies are now attempting to befriend him so that they can protect him from her. At least he has friends to talk to now. I believe he's talked on the phone with both Karl and Madeline once or twice."

"Oh I've heard about those two, but not Stevie. Jason doesn't really seem to trust me as much as he used to," I say quietly. Whizzer can probably sense the sadness in my voice, since he sighs.

"Trina, it has nothing to do with you personally. It's most likely due to your, uh, problem. It's kind of hard to talk to a parent who's an alcoholic. There's no way to put it lightly. You need help. If you want to help Jason, you need to get your head out of your ass and sober up," Whizzer replies with a tinge of determination. "I will find some way to drag you to rehab if I have to."

"Is there even a good rehab center in the area?"

"Oh, I am way ahead of you. On the kitchen table, you'll find a piece of paper with the numbers and locations of several rehabilitation clinics in the area. You should call each of them for more information and simply check yourself into one of them. And before you ask, yes this is because I care about your wellbeing and want you to get better. I mean, you may have hated me, but you were there for me before I died, and this is my chance to repay the favour."

"Whizzer... thank you." I rest my head on my hand with a sigh. "I really am a bad mother. And wife. Just a bad family member in general. I need to try harder to be there for people."

"Yeah, Mendel really needs your help. Maybe once you're doing better, you could go out and find a job. Psychiatry isn't really working out for him, since all of his clients are either dead, hate him, or are part of his family. That has made him do some... questionable things. You should see his new job," he says, laughing slightly. "Though I won't tell you what he's doing exactly, that man can dance."

"He's become a dancer?"

"Sure, let's go with that. A 'dancer.'" I can practically hear the air quotes, meaning that Mendel really is not a dancer. Then what is he? Do I even want to know?

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, but Jason and Marvin are going to be home soon. If you want to talk again, just, I don't know, shout for me I guess? Try to fix your issue, or I will pester you about it until the end of time," Whizzer says darkly, lowering his voice in a somewhat menacing way. "Alright, bye!" His voice instantly switches to a more giddy, positive tone.

The phone emits a loud beep as Whizzer slips away, probably to go wait for his 'husband' and son. I yawn and glance over to the kitchen. There lies, as Whizzer had mentioned, a small slip of paper with the information for the rehab clinics. I glance back over to the broken bottle and sigh. No more of that. I need to be a good mother.

With a newfound determination, I rush over and snatch up the paper, making sure to call each of the numbers listed. Though I did mess up and call the wrong numbers several times due to the fact that I am completely drunk and will not sober for a while. If I have to face what may be the worst hangover of my life, it'll be worth it as long as I can be there for those I love.

Just try to figure out what Mendel has become. My friend and I thought this would be funny. Hint: it's not very family friendly ;) (lmao idk why I did this)