InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "CORN!"

I've decided we're the next best thing -- we could do everything.Aside from every single summer vacation, high school graduation had been the only thing keeping Jonas moving forward during his four years at Grapevine High School. Once allowed to leave as he had so desperately wished, Jonas was surprised to notice a distinct attachment to the house he had been living in for the past several months. Perhaps it was more than just the house; perhaps it was more than just the fact that he had lived between the two houses -- his and Magy's, of course -- for the better part of the last seven years of his life. Was it possible that he was being sentimental? Jonas wasn't too sure if leaving home was what he wanted, now that he had the perfect opportunity to do as much... There was no chance in Hell that he was being sentimental about a chunk of land, and two houses that sat atop it!

As emotionally tied as Jonas felt to his current living arrangements, it seemed he had no control over what anyone else felt when it came to moving on in life. He was next to heartbroken when Magy attempted to explain her plans for the following weeks; she'd need to get her things packed up for her flight to France, and she wanted him to help her. When the day came to gather all the necessities up, Magy was a mess... and whose fault was it? Jonas was the one who couldn't find the strength to get out of bed that same morning, for the night before, he had sent himself to bed with half a bottle of wine and the proper medication. When he woke up, it was nearing 4:30PM the next day. Magy's flight was scheduled to leave at 5:15PM, but as Jonas peered out the front room window, he wasn't surprised to see the other just climbing into a taxi (surely the flight was leaving from an airport, there was bound to be delay anyway). He knew Magy couldn't see him (he hoped she did), and it would only waste time if he flung himself out the front door to weep a series of good-byes to her.

So instead, Jonas crumbled into a heap on the floor in front of the window. He sat, just like that, for a total of three hours, and assumed an alternative position only when he was sure his tears had dried completely. This wasn't to say that he didn't intend on making more, or that he wouldn't crumple into any other sort of heap in any other place in the house, but at that particular moment, all he cared about was isolating himself. And he isolated himself for six weeks straight, unplugging the phones and the computer, removing the batteries in the television remote and throwing them away; when he took the garbage out to the street, it was often at an hour so early, none of the neighbours would speak to him. The bills went unpaid and eventually, the lack of electricity forced him to ration the food he had left. When he found himself without any more Triscuits or Froot Loops he switched to a diet of cigarettes and liquors, pills and fine crystalline powders. The day he snorted his last line was the day he tore his room apart in an effort to find the money he'd been saving from graduation.

Jonas wasn't planning on feeding his addiction with the money, although at that moment in time, it was nearly impossible to determine exactly what he was thinking amongst all the wreckage his room consisted of. He could probably get to France, or at least Heathrow, with the money he had. If he brought a backpack and a good pair of shoes, he could get anywhere. Adjusting to life in another continent was not something Jonas had been counting on, and for the first week or two that he spent in the streets, he went to sleep feeling miserable every night. The various underground tunnels affiliated with the subway system provided all the warmth he needed to sleep comfortably through the night. At times, the tunnels gave him a place to hide away when he couldn't stand the sea of people waiting to crash in around him like some sort of merciless wave.

Within a month and a half, Jonas found himself sneaking onto a ferry docked at the cross-Channel port in Dover. And just like the boat, he had every intention of setting sail for Calais (the closest French town to England) as soon as possible; the fact that the journey was only 34km (21 miles) meant that there was a good chance he'd go unnoticed. He stayed huddled in the bathroom, keeping perfectly silent in an out-of-order stall specifically so his occupying any space wouldn't be anything to complain about. He didn't feel truly successful until he had gotten as far as he possibly could carry himself away from the water; the closer he got to Paris, the closer he got to Magy. Essentially, in Jonas' mind, the worry was supposed to stop once he set foot in the capital, but he didn't even know what district the artist lived in!

It took another four weeks to reach Paris -- the majority of the wait was consumed by the distant ache for various drugs, which he soothed by drawing political cartoons to sell on the street for money. In turn, he mostly occupied his own withdrawals and earned himself some spare change to use for bus rides, but it didn't help his mood too much. He arrived in Paris with no sense of direction and a hand-drawn map that couldn't possibly help him find his way out of a sealed cardboard box. He had a cramp in his left leg, but it was almost noon... he hadn't eaten in a couple days, and it wouldn't hurt to see what was around. If he hadn't been hungry at the time, he probably wouldn't have opted for taking a street-friendly route, which took him past an array of cafés and boutiques and things of the like. He knew off-hand that he wouldn't have enough money for anything he'd find, and he knew that everyone around him knew the same, but he couldn't help but think that maybe if he kept walking -- just maybe the extra bit of positivity he used to keep himself moving would help him find something worth smiling for.

Jonas didn't stop in the first café he came across, in fact, he walked into a completely different district on that same day. And upon being able to walk no more, he flung open the door of the nearest quiet-looking building, and invited himself inside. Obviously not in the mood for a chatty, "enjoy-the-outdoors (street-side) while you nibble a pricey pastry and sip your coffee -- by the way, did you want that black?" -- sort of place, Jonas skipped out on as many of those as he could stand to identify. The fact that he was intent on finding a café based indoors made it difficult to avoid the sort of place that also made specialty sandwiches as well. But Jonas wasn't being choosy, he simply wanted to get out of the sun and find a place to sit... even if it meant he'd be doing as much in the presence of an odd variety of sickening smells.

What (or who) he found in his presence wasn't at all to be affiliated with "sickening smells," in fact, Jonas was quite sure that he was one of the more unappetizing things to be considered. As surprising as it was to see Magy seated at the far end of the café, his first impulse was to pick some spots of dirt from his jacket and finger-comb a knot or two out of his hair. It would be impossible to disguise his tattered look, especially from Magy (if she remembered him, anyway), but the fact that he had thought to at least improve his general appearance meant he still cared what Magy thought of him. When Jonas caught her attention, it wasn't a romantic reuniting like he'd seen in the movies so many times before. In fact, he was almost certain the look in her eyes reflected disbelief and confusion; he wasn't supposed to be here, he was supposed to be back in Texas with the house and the dog! But instead of communicating these problems, Magy confronted Jonas about his well-being. At first, he was "fine!" Rather than telling her about his adventure, he wanted to express more curiosity towards Magy's recent daily activities; she played along for the first fifteen minutes, but after that, Jonas was cornered, and explained to her an edited, very condensed version of what he had been up to in the last couple months. Magy didn't see a problem with opening her home up to Jonas for a couple days, at least until he was able to find himself a job -- Jonas, quite frankly, didn't see a problem with this and eagerly accepted the generous offer.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, but it wasn't time spent unhappily! Although Jonas wasn't going to school like Magy, they spent a great deal of their free time painting outdoors; Magy amused herself by teaching him French in random lessons. Before they knew it, they had spent two and a half years existing peacefully in the same habitat as one another; there had been no major fights, no ambulance fees, Magy hadn't lost any of her fingernails while scratching Jonas' eyes out... things were going fabulously. Jonas knew that Magy had kept in touch with MJ and Harlee, but what he didn't know was that one of them (MJ) had been in the process of convincing Magy to leave Paris and return to Texas. Given the correct amount of time, Jonas had developed a bothersome sort of itch. Unlike regular itches, this one didn't go away when one scratched at it; it was there to act as a reminder, and right away, Jonas knew what he had done wrong. For three long weeks, he dealt with the fact that he knew his exact reason for being in Paris with Magy and that she didn't; it was like a great big yeasty-guilt concoction left to rise inside his body. It had been left for a great deal of time, and after being set in the oven, was ready to burst. He didn't know whether he should tell her the truth or let it go, because he was sure she could see the difference in his attitude. He tensed when she touched him, and she was startled by that; it hurt her feelings, almost. It was disgusting, almost, how the drugs he had been consuming helped him to feel on top of the world at times... though when he couldn't have them, he felt as though he was close to dropping dead. And yet, he'd almost prefer to take his own life than to disappoint Magy on purpose, but it seemed that admitting to having told a lie would be doing just that.

He soon made the decision to tell Magy the truth, it was only fair, after all. During a fairly quiet meal, Jonas waited for the perfect opportunity to speak up, and in doing so, it seemed he hesitated one moment too long. Magy brought up an entirely new idea instead; MJ would be coming to stay with them for a couple weeks -- most likely twelve -- while she completed a study abroad program of her own! Inside, Jonas wanted to tear himself limb from limb (from the inside-out!), but all he could do was grin and nod his own pseudo-approval. He was really digging himself deeper than he could afford to be, and he knew all about it... he just didn't know how to stop the urge to keep digging this time.

"Maggitz," he started one night after they had settled down for bed, "You wouldn't be mad at me if I told you a secret, would you?" Jonas knew to approach her from such a gentle, soft-spoken angle -- caressing her cheek and eventually rolling onto his back to present his belly to her, much like a dog in a submissive state. It would be unwise to get her riled up, as neither of them wanted to be rude and wake MJ like they did every so often. Upon being prompted, Jonas told her of his intentions to find her directly after leaving Texas, how he did everything in his doped-up power to get to her. As he explained everything to Magy, his voice lost a great deal of its strength -- he had been listening to himself talk, and as he went along with his story, he realised how foolish he had been. What if Magy had left Paris while he was still wandering around looking for her? He'd be stuck in France forever, or at least until he made enough money for a plane ticket. What if he died of exposure to harsh weather conditions? Of course, he wouldn't have cared, because he was an idiot, but there was always a great chance that Magy or his parents would have cared somewhat. "Maggitz, please..." Jonas had always been a solitary, megalomaniacal jerk. It was never discussed that the one thing that made him that way, really, was Magy and knowing that he'd never be able to have her as his own. The less he saw her, the less it hurt -- sometimes, anyway. There were times when it felt really comforting to just spend hours with her, because he didn't feel so bad pretending.

The truth was, he couldn't stand to be away from her. It drove Jonas mad to know that Magy was somewhere across the Atlantic, possibly living unhappily or being courted by sleaze-bags waiting to take her on a run for her money and then leave her alone in some ridiculously vulnerable state. Jonas certainly wouldn't consider himself a "good person," but he didn't see any reason to trust the rest of the world; it didn't matter if Magy wanted to see things differently, because you couldn't give a person a "second chance" with a bullet between your eyes and your brains spilled out upon the floor. He never imagined that his possessive nature would send Magy in the opposite direction, hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. But there was no way to correct an issue he had no control over; he had already explained his feelings to Magy, and she had reacted differently than anticipated. They would be returning to Texas soon enough.

The plane ride was as tense as the situation back in the flat in Paris, and it was possible that everyone was thankful for the ability to go a separate route upon stepping off the plane. For Jonas, it was similar to the sensation of guilt one might feel long after individually ripping the legs from a cellar spider, one by one. It hovered over him, and as unpleasant as it may have been, he wasn't sure he wanted to let go of the feeling. It allowed him to dip into a wondrous pool of memories, made mostly in the last two to three years -- at the same time, Jonas understood that wallowing in a "cess-pool of his own self-pity" wasn't going to do him any good. He needed to find time to recover himself; he didn't want to be the dove anymore, but if he was going to destroy himself, what good was it to do it alone? [אבדון]