Superheroes

"Can I call you?"

I roll over and peer at my vibrating cell phone. The message stares back at me brightly from the tiny screen. It's Gabe, and his text message is followed by a smiley.

A brief glance at my clock indicates it is eleven AM. I'm impressed. Normally Gabe sleeps until noon. I call him back, to spare him his cell phone minutes.

"Hey," I mumble.

"Oh, shit," he says, cheerfully, on the line. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you."

"No... I'm conscious. What's up?"

"I sent you an email. You're going to laugh."

"What is it?" I say, rolling out of bed and groggily standing.

"Guess who I stayed up until three in the morning talking to?"

"The Swiss, I hope. It better not be Jen, your ex."

"I'm a masochist, but give me a little credit here. I wouldn't talk to Jen even if she offered me a kitten named after me. Which she has, the obsessive woman. And which I refused outright, if you recall."

"Okay, fine, so who was it?"

"Will."

Ugh. Will. The new bane of my existence. He's so annoying, I can't stand more than fifteen minutes in conversation with him anymore. He just talks and talks and talks, and when you let the conversation drift to new topics, as is healthy, he stays on the old subject until you can't stand hearing about it anymore.

"Goddamn," I grumble, stumbling down the hallway towards the stairs. "Thanks for the awesome wake-up."

"Val," Gabe says, laughingly, "You don't understand. I talked to him for three hours. Val, does he send you his screenwriting projects sometimes?"

Oh god. Oh god no. Please. Please don't talk to me about the horror.

Will's stories are so bad and full of immature and irrational angst that I feel like I'm watching a B-movie inside my head. It's terrible. Horrible. And full of spelling mistakes.

"Too often, actually."

"Oh my god, has he sent you that story on the superhero troop... So cheesy... The name is the X-tremes I think?"
I groan in pain, heading down the stairs towards my basement. "Yes, I have had the misfortune of reading it, yes."

"That's the thing. He sent it to me last night. And I told him how bad it was."

I pause. "What? You told him? You actually TOLD him?"

I never tell Will his stories are bad. Because otherwise I can't escape his self-righteous, self-explanatory, underhanded insults pertaining to my lack of comprehension. Telling Will his stories are bad, while completely truthful, is also a surefire way of not hearing about anything else for at least two weeks. I avoid truth in his case like the plague.

"Yeah, I told him. Val, I've never read something that bad before. Aside from that story you mocked with Lyx a few months back. But that was hilariously bad. Will's stuff is just... badly bad."

"Oh my god, I still can't believe you told him. Well, don't say I didn't warn you. He kept you until 3, you said?"

"Yeah. It was hilarious. I sent you the log. I figured you'd want something to cheer you up."

I'm highly amused. I'd been about to ask for it. "I'm logging onto msn. Meet you there?"

"Sure."

"Alright. I'll read that log. I love you."

"I love you, sleeping beauty."

"Oh, shut up."

He laughs, and we hang up.

This log, while translated, has not be altered or shortened in any way. Please enjoy what made my day.

Hey dude!
Hey. What's up?
Writing! And you?
On the phone, lol, like a chick.
Heheh with your chick!
Nah, with the Swiss, but it's almost the same.
lol
He wants your money. The Will of Fortune. Get it? Will. Wheel. We're badass.
Hey I need your opinion on something do you have a couple of minutes?
Yeah yeah
Will has sent XtremeDevoir.doc.
lol
You want my opinion on something in particular?
Yeah. Everything. Except the spelling. That's your chick's job.
Right. Two seconds.
We're fighting for a dream, Gabe!
Um. What??
Coz we have a dream that one day the world will be better.
What dream? I'm fine with seeing it burn, personally...
Oh! The villain!
Yeah. I'm trying to read but MSN won't stop beeping. I'm reading, alright?
Thanks.
... Done. Explain to me the point of this homework?
It's not homework... It's a script!
Okay... it's just that it's written "devoir" in the title. I thought you meant homework. "Devoir" in the sense of "duty" then?
Yeah.
I see.
Duty of a hero!
Well, now... Tell me what you want me to tell you...
Do you like it? You understand and it makes sense?
I'll be honest. I hate this kind of story. But it makes sense. In its own particular way.
Why do you hate that? It's superhero stuff, dude!
Too utopian for me.
Well, come on!
I like when it's real. When it's really difficult. When people don't have superpowers.
It's not that utopian.
Yes it is. How does the guy fight? He boxes people?
He stops time.
And boxes people.
Yeah.
One sniper and he's dead.
Yes. Like Captain America. And Daredevil.
So... How can he save anything?
Christ, he stops time, dude! Sure, if he's sniped in the back he can't do anything, but come on. Obviously if you send him into a volcano he dies too. lol
Okay, but... what's he trying to change in the world? Superheroes always have something they want to change in the world.
He saves the city from criminals.
But in a ridiculous fashion. He stops time and boxes them? Come on. If I were a criminal he'd be dead for a long time now.
He breaks arms, he tracks those who want to do evil.
So he's like the police?
Yeah, kinda. It's called vigilante, by the way.
Okay, listen. If you want to be sure to get a lot of shit in the fan in a dangerous neighbourhood, send in the police, break a few jaws, and let the crap and violence spread. If you want things to fix themselves, send in the social workers.
But the Spectre, in the X-tremes, he acts in the shadow, like Batman.
I'm sorry. To help the world, you don't need superheroes. What you need is more education and less religion.
But he doesn't really want to fix everything. He fights mutants, dude!
Sorry, Will. I hate that kind of story, you won't make me change my mind. I'm not saying your story is bad. I just hate your style. That's all.
I'll convert you one day, Gabe, you'll see. I'm not losing faith that you see my way one of these days. In the end there's no point to reading the Lord of the Rings. Nobody can control the world with a ring. Christ, send in the cops and everything is done! lol I mean, you see, Sauron doesn't make any sense!
That's not the same. LotR is a COMPLETELY different world from ours. With magic. I don't give a fuck that the ring can control everything. For all I know, that world is vulnerable to that. But in our world, with politics, illnesses, atomic bombs, I find that an avenger with a mask is ridiculous.
LotR is a critique of the society of Tolkien's time. And I'm not talking about our world. I'm not writing reality, I'm writing fantastique.
It's fantastique where the world is like ours. Physics follow their normal course.
Not really, no. Mutants everywhere, governement trying to eradicate an extraterrestrial menace...
Extraterrestrial? I thought you said mutant.
There's time travel...
Gigantic lizards destroying Tokyo? Sorry, not buying it. It's old. Superhero names and all that.
Okay, let me ask you seriously what you think of the superhero's role in today's society.
Utopia......!
I think they're a critique of society to show that, actually, there isn't a giant lizard in Tokyo. No extraterrestrial menace. That our social problems exist, though, and that we don't need superpowers to solve them. No magic ring to control the world...
Then you've chosen the worst way of proving it. It's old, overused, cliché.
...Differences exist, suffering touches everyone...
Will. What turns me on would be something like 1984. THAT is brilliant. BRILLIANT.
...that we have a destiny or not we can change things.
Or maybe a movie on the feeling of belonging in the event of an alien attack. That'd be cool. With a common enemy people would have something better to fight than their neighbours.
Well how do you make a movie on friendship and teamwork?
... lol
You should listen to Watchmen, dude. Anyway, I'll go. But I'm keeping my hope of convincing you, my friend.
Oooh, what a shame. It was so much fun. Also, no, lol, sorry, kthnxbai.
Ah, only time will tell us which of your scepticism or my determination is the strongest. Hehe. Good night, Gabe!
You're adorable. Woe be the day you turn into a realist.
Never! Don't worry.

The time stamps indicate that an hour goes by in silence.

So finally I decided to watch jl, then I came back to haunt the world.
JL?
Justice League.
Oh.
You know, superhero stuff you detest.
Are you really watching it or is it just a manner of speaking?
I really watch it. It's... you know, cartoons.
Yes, I know cartoons. Streaming?
Downloaded. But I like that! Bam!
Ahahaha... Bam?
BAM. I'll show you in person, you'll see. It's like "oh snap" but more violent.
Aha. Right.
I think that superheroes are like an ideal. If I want to live the real world I'll read bibliographies (sic) and listen to documentaries. Which I sometimes do. But I've had enough of my real life. So I live in my worlds.
I think that to escape the real world there's much better and to face reality too.
Just to give you an idea: Divine Avenger, Guardian of the Earth, Draken the Cursed, Darafelbe the Just, Ace of Spades, vampire hunter in the west, Fallen, the fallen angel, Red the mercenary with the silver watch, and a hundred others I can name just like that.
But why always the same pattern? It's just... old.
Because I'm two-sided. Normal and insane.
No, that's got nothing to do with it. Do you honestly think I'm down to earth? I'm nuts. But I can't stand that cheesy style.
Not at all. Look at Nathan. I'd have to make you read Redemption. I mean, you'd have to see the world through my eyes.
Umm... Who's Nathan? Does he have a cause? A hard life no one understands? A costume?
No, he's just a student.
Misunderstood?
No.
What does he do?
He's just a student who's looking for his father's identity.
See? Another cheesy cause. It's worn out.
What would you rather he do?
If I had to create a superhero for my own entertainment?
He's not a superhero! Nathan isn't part of the X-treme story. I'm writing about a friend's love life lol.
Huh? Wait, you're talking about something else entirely? What the heck are you talking about?
All those things I listed are different stories.
Oh. But that's off-topic and unrelated. I'm saying that I find the superhero genre really awful. I mean, superheroes attack what? Small-time bandits?
Or people like you. Meaning supervillains who think their friend's idea is puke-worthy.
Look, with that much strength I'd strangle the president of the IMF to change something concretely. Wait. Superheroes want my death too??? :0 Sadly, I'm not a villain.
But you only think of your personal gain, obviously you don't understand anything.
I don't like old ideas. And I think on a larger scale, that's all.
Yeah right.
Attacking the neighbourhood gangstas to change the world is pretty narrow-minded.
On a large scale the world is more important than the individual.
Yes.
So if you had powers you would save the world!
Unlimited powers?
No. You choose one. You can only have one power.
Mind control.
Alright, I choose time control.
I take the head of the political world, and I make what I judge to be best.
You can.
So it's what I want.
But I can go back in time to stop you from doing that.
So what? Don't we want the same thing?
Not necessarily.
Oh, I thought we were SuperFriends. Well, in that case, I'll mind control you first.
We'll, I'd help you if your cause were noble.
Kill yourself, Will. Then I'll take over the world.
You can't mind control me.
Yes, I can...?
No, because my spirit is dispersed across time.
What's that hooey?
It's my world, I can make it what I want.
wtf You can't invent new laws. And it's OUR world right now. If your power works on me, mine works on you.
Well, it comes out of my head, it's my imagination, it's my world.
Okay, fine. Let's pretend I can't mind control you. I could still kill you with my limitless zombies anyway.
In my world there are angels, demons, superheroes, mutants, robots. Wait, no, you can't. I have a friend who's a plane pilot.
Eh?
How do you catch me if I'm in a plane?
lol. You do realise I'm mind controlling everything, including National Defence? I have the army of the USA... and all the others, besides.
Your zombies...?
The people I mind control.
Oh, right. Well, I stop time.
Okay, then what? What'll you do?
I make my way to you and I try to reason with you.
How do you get to me?
In a plane, I told you!
I'm not standing in a meadow, Will.
Time is stopped, dude!
I'm in the 30th underground level of Area 51.
Time is stopped.
And so how will you pass the 1 meter of steel door?
With Golem. He controls organic metal. He's 3m high, and he can cross any metal.
What's this shit? It's you vs. me, your power vs. mine!
Golem is part of my team!
wtf? We don't HAVE teams.
Well, ok, then. If you have an underwater bunker, I must have access to something, right?
No, no, I'm in the 30th underground level of Area 51. Which I got by mind controlling the people of the National Defence. Which is legit. I used my power to get this bunker. See? Consequentiality.
I manage to find you.
Actually, you couldn't head down to find me.
Technically, I'd go back in time to before you go in there. Or before you're born. And I beat up your father, and you're never born. What can you do against that, huh?
... I think your nature would be your end. You're a bit too nice. Effectively, you're right, but you'd have to wait until I've actually taken over the world before realising you need to do this. Although if you do kill my father, I am screwed.
I could never resolve myself to killing you. Even when you take the world.
Well. If you grew the balls to do it, I'd be helpless. That said, I probably would think things through. If I knew that a guy could go back in time, I'd kill him first.
But you don't know that I can do it.
... So... how do you know I have mind control?
You took over the world, dude!
But... Will. With your logic then, you can't know that. If I have to keep this shit hidden, I won't do it out in the open. I'd have a cover.
Well, Christ, technically I'd do my investigation, yeah.
For all you know, I could be your measly newspaper boy.
Yeah.
I could be controlling the world right now. How would you know? I'm just Val's boyfriend to you.
Yeah, put that way I'm screwed. But would you really destroy me if you controlled the world and I were one of your friends?
If I knew that our visions of the world were different to the point where you would kill me if ever you found out that I was the leader of the revolution, yes, I wouldn't have the choice. You'd kill me in the past as soon as you'd learn.
But I wouldn't do it.
Um... Well, then, what would you do?
I'd go back in the past to convince you not to do what you're doing.
... You'd talk to me?
Yes.
Ok... But I'm not doing anything horrible. I'm not very mean.
Technically removing the option of choice is not good. But if you solve all the problems in the world, I'd support you. Superheroes fight for a world of peace.
Choice? You mean if I remove the right to choose their government? Oh, but that's what I'm aiming at.
Gabe, if you don't leave them any choice it's not good.
I figure that people are extraordinarily moronic sometimes. Should I really leave them the choice of continuing to fight for man-made gods? Hmm.
Yes, because they chose to.
So why be a superhero and help them, if the world has chosen to be a big crater of steaming shit?
Because they chose to.
Okay. I see.
There. You understand now, Gabe!
Now that they chose a pile of crap, they can die in it. That's what I understand.
I have an ideal of a much better world. There's a way to change things using good.
But you don't need superpowers for that.
Not everyone is rotten. You need a just mind.
You need social change.
That too.
Like, capitalism. How did we get stuck with that?
Because we live in our world, Gabe. It's a system adapted to humans.
People won't change. Communism seemed perfect on paper, and it's impossible to apply without mass corruption. It never worked. So how can you reach a utopia? Our humanity makes it impossible. If we were machines it'd work.
We can fight to make our world a better place. Fight the injustice of our days.
How can you do that without forcing the people?
By persuading them. By putting the first stone, by giving without asking for anything in return.
You do realise that the only reason we're in peace is that we're rich using other people? It's still slavery. Thinking like that is thinking that communism could actually work.
No.
Yes.
It's called trying to make our life better.
When you give, why do you do it?
Because I enjoy giving. Because I feel good and happy and appeased.
So you're mostly doing it for yourself, not for the other. It's still egoism.
That I'm happy when people don't suffer around me? How's that egoism? It's altruistic.
So you do it completely detached of all self-satisfying sentiments?
Yes. I give without counting.
And you don't enjoy the way people look at you when you give?
Not necessarily.
... This reminds me of freaking Kant.
Good exists, Gabe!
Technically, no.
Well, I exist. Sure, I have a point of view. I can't live for others.
Y'know, in real life it doesn't apply because it'd be too freaky, but deep down good and evil don't exist.
I make anti-war choices, I recycle for the good of the planet. Both exist, always together, because everything is relative.
I figure that since we don't have a reason of being, then there is no good, and there is no bad. There are good and bad things for YOU, that are different from the ones that are good for ME. And that's just our opinions.
Yes. Exactly. You exist. I exist. Why aren't we entitled to have good?
It's not a matter of entitlement.
Gabe, you won't shoot someone on the street tomorrow! But you can stop someone from doing it.
Well, of course not. It wouldn't be fun for me, and I haven't been raised to do it. If we had all been raised to kill people on the street, it wouldn't be considered 'evil'. And all this points to the fact that a lil dude fighting brigands on the streets is a little ridiculously ineffective to achieve a world full of pretty butterflies.
Well, everyone does what they can. What do you think of that? It's like saying there's no point in recycling, or bringing someone who's injured to the hospital. I'm not talking about saving the planet, I'm talking about saving a life.
No, you see, that's actually important. Recycling actually has a big impact. It's massive.
Well, if everyone fought to stop crime...
Oh, yes, if EVERYONE took up torch and pitchfork to attack the 50 cents of the world, we wouldn't have violence in our streets. Still, that wouldn't change the fundamental problems. You'd still need people to decide to live more moderately, that they share equally, without wanting more than their next, even when in need of something.
I'm not saying my hero's saving the world. He's just doing what he thinks is right.
A'ight. That's more reasonable. I can accept that. He fights in the wrong way but he's trying.
Good. He fights because he has the power to. But he also fights for vengeance. He would sacrifice himself for someone.
That's not vicious enough, Will. Example. I'm Spiderman. I'm pretty strong, right? If I want to do good, a maximum possible amount of good considering my capacities, I think I can do a little better than fight street gangs. If I have to sacrifice myself, then how can I do it?
No, because that's what the world expects of you.
Um.
That you fight for them.
Or that I can be a real asshole for the greater good, in time.
But you want to protect the mass, not individuals.
I could kidnap G.W. Bush's two daughters to force him into closing Guantanamo. I could threaten the life of Senators so that they don't enter the war for petrol in Irak. Now that's sacrifice for a cause. It's a bitch move, too. But it's for the greater good. It doesn't look too good on TV, though. Hm...
Sacrificing oneself without causing harm. But look at the Punisher. He kills criminals because he wants vengeance. He's not very politically correct. He's a hero anyway.
He's an angry man and that's okay. It's actually already better.
Well, my character, Arthur. His life is crap. He had a nice youth that he sacrificed for what he thought was right. He lost everything, his friends, his family, his love, for what he believed in. He didn't pause to whine about his fate. He goes out in the streets to break jaws because it's what keeps him alive. If he doesn't do it, it's the noose for him. It's all he has left, and each time he actually hopes that he'll die. Die for a just cause, like his friends.
Alright. Let's pretend for a moment that the costumes and superpowers don't annoy me greatly.
He doesn't have a costume. And he doesn't use his powers if he doesn't need them.
Ever seen the Patriot?
No.
With Mel Gibson? No? It's inspiring. Let me explain. Your story reminds me of that movie. It's war. Brits everywhere. There are american rebels, but they get pwned all the time. There's always this fucking tough guy berserk style who destroys a couple of enemies in a fit of rage but he always dies and it's not enough. Well, your heroes remind me of that guy. Strong and stupid. They attack the big block of Brits. BUT in the movie Mel Gibson, he's smart. He understands you need to strike at the head. So he stops using formation tactics and does a guerilla against the generals. The world isn't going wrong because there are villains. There are villains because the world is going wrong.
Well, Darius, the bad guy in my story, do you know why he's evil? Because he had a different view on the world. Because he loved a girl who would never love him, and because he's got an insatiable thirst for power. Because he wants to change things for his own good. He doesn't care about the people he leaves behind. He goes on in his cause.
Yeah, about that. Why her?
What?
I mean, he turns berserk because she rejected him, right?
Yeah.
But... why did he want HER?
Because he loved her...?
Well, Darius is a powerful man, right?
No.
What is he in life?
He's just really lucky. He wants to become president. He's just a candidate though.
Okay. And why does he want that girl?
They went to school together.
Okay, but... What was so special about HER?
You know who it is relatively to Arthur?
The girl or Darius?
Both. Darius was Arthur's best friend. They both wanted the same girl. That's what makes the story interesting! Kate is in love with Arthur, so Darius is jealous. Everything starts there. He'll end up killing her, but it wasn't her he was aiming at.
Ooh.
It's just that Kate sacrificed herself to save Arthur, because Darius was jealous of his friends' powers, and their happiness. So Darius kills Kate and all of Arthur's friends, and that's how Arthur becomes an avenger.
Um. Ok. So he's a cop now?
No. A welder.
My. I know so little of the welding world.

"I gave up after that," Gabe confides.

"You shouldn't waste your energy on stuff like this," I chide him. "I know you like a good argument and you contradict people for the sake of proving your point, but this is below you."

"I need the practice. Law degree, remember?"

"But he's harmless and completely clueless. You should know better."

"He started it. He shouldn't have asked me for my opinion."

"I'm scared to send you my stuff now."

"Maybe you should, though. I'm curious to find out what the hype is all about. Everyone says you're good."

"I'll see if you deserve it, then."

I broke down and sent him something anyway. I did not defend my story until three in the morning, though. All I got was an appreciative "I'm impressed. You make me proud. I've been laughing out loud since I started."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Love,
Val

Okay, okay

As I write this I'm sitting in university waiting for Gabe to call me. We're going to Will's place tonight. Will, in case, I didn't mention him, is the newest addition to my friends. He's insane, a total geek, and he's about as random as the rest of us, in a very talkative and happy package. We're going for a relaxed video-viewing evening, with the possible inclusion of beer into the equation. I don't know. Frankly I'm not up for drinking these days, but you know how it goes.

Seriously. One glass and I'm wasted. I have SO lost my drinking habits.

... I can sense the accusing stares. Okay, I'm aware I haven't written in a while. Those who haven't given up on me (I got a message a while ago about a poke and a question like "are you dead?" which sort of reminded me I used to have time, a long time ago) will hopefully remember the following facts about me:

1. I'm in university;
2. I have a boyfriend;
3. And time-consuming friends/work/school projects.

Also, I am stressed.

Stress, it turns out, can strike even when you're doing just fine. To be quite frank, nothing in my life is going wrong these days. I have a wonderful, hilarious, completely adorable-slash-handsome boyfriend who looks at me with more love than I could ever write about, I have a steady almost-no-sweat income of 800$ a month, I'm studying screenwriting, and, starting next year (provided my request is accepted) I'll be doing a bachelor's in literature, more specifically, the creation of.

And yet, I'm stressed.

It could be that I'm nervous about being accepted into the lit program (although, with my current grades, I should hope it's not an issue), or simply that I don't remember the last time I had an actual day off. That is, I work in an office furniture warehouse weekends and Wednesdays, and the rest of the time I'm in school, or on the bus, or the metro, or somewhere in between trying to pull together five or six screenplays in time to view the movies we're required to take notes on (hard job? Not really, but time consuming).

The stress could also come from the fact that I have deadlines to respect, although I've dealt with those all my life, so why should they be stressful? Or from the fact that Gabe is struggling to pay his apartment in Verdun, gas for his car, studies, food, and, since yesterday, 650$ worth of car repairs, mostly because he's got a broken headlight, worn-out brakes and a flat tire.

If any of you believe I'm an expense, believe me, the only expense he makes for me is gasoline. I pay for my food, I pay for my drink, and I split expenses with him when necessary.

Thankfully, Gabe has got a new job in Verdun that should help him pay for life's expenses.

Ah, Gabe just called. His car is fixed. He's going to call me again when he arrives in Verdun from Vaudreuil, and then again when he makes it to the Berri-UQAM metro station.

The upside of this university, it turns out, is that you have access to everything without ever needing to step outside. Right now big flurries of white snow are blowing all over. We got a snowstorm two days ago, after some warm temperature had made a lot of the white stuff melt. To my left is a big bay window with a view on St-Catherine street, and a church that was modified into another one of UQAM's pavillions. This pavillion too was a church once. On the right of the bay window is the grey stone of the arches; like an alien gothic revival structure in an ugly modern brick building. People dredge by, pretending they're not windblown. It's an oddly beautiful day: the sky is snow-coloured and the trees are frosted with sugar.

Slim was supposed to be at Will's tonight. He called this morning to say he wasn't going to be there after all, claiming he didn't want to talk about it. Distance has grown between us, but mostly because I'm not available to do things anymore. Slim has no job; I have so little time for myself that whatever time I DO have, I spend with Gabe.

You would too, if you noticed the difference in the way the two of them treat me. Slim, quite frankly, only considers me as an ear to talk to, and, occasionally, an advisor. Gabe, on his part, considers me a friend, a lover, a companion. Where Slim feeds me his stories, I have few opportunities to be heard as well. By contrast, things with Gabe are balanced and natural.

Speaking of which, have I mentioned how much I love him?

Let me put it this way. All those romance oneshots I wrote (while single and completely ignorant) are a mere shadow. I could not describe the chemistry that sparks between two like-minded people even if I tried. For that, I wish to express my apologies: all the things I wrote are outdated, superficial and naive. I couldn't know until I dared to ask Gabe for a kiss.

And that, right above, sounded like I'm wearing rose-tinted glasses, except that when you spend half your time, even after three months (speaking of which, our three month anniversary was on Valentine's day, by sheer coincidence) finding out new points you have in common, and completing each other's sentences, and laughing at the same times, you sort of realise there's something there that goes beyond mere fantasy. It's concrete, and it happens for real.

For real, you hear me?

Now let me ask you this. How could I ever presume to write more romance oneshots? I would never be pleased; I'd want it to be true to reality, that wonderful reality that I wish everyone to encounter. But I can't. I don't have what it takes. I don't think anyone does. I can write passion and delirium just fine. I can write embarrassment and anxiety. I can write about feelings of love and companionship. Except there's more. More that I CAN'T write, because it's tiny, in those little infinitely small moments where a look, a touch, a smile happens that says more than words could.

Soooo I've recycled myself. These days I write dystopian original fiction, with feedback from Will. Turns out that insane bastard has enough imagination to feed any uninspired weirdo. It's practical to bounce ideas off him, if exhausting.

I'm also working on a reaction oneshot for the latest Prince of Persia, which I finished two weeks ago and found brilliantly executed. If I finally get the time to keep working on it, I'll probably release it on ff.net.

What else is there to say? Am I slowing down with the online publications? Yes. I won't hide from it. My writing time is spent on school projects and original fiction, which I'm keeping in store... for stores, maybe, one day. As you can also tell, my blogging is moving along at a less than sluggish pace, for the same reasons. What is there for me to announce that will be interesting anyway? I'm at this point in the story where the last chapter has passed and the girl got the guy and everything is going good. I'm not even looking at a sequel in which things get crappy again. I hope that day doesn't come.

How can I sound dramatic and insane when there's nothing to warrant it? I know it sounds depressing but no one wants to hear about happy people. Nothing ever happens to them. In fact, as Eva, Slim and some other animated folk (*cough* Josie *cough*) have let me know, talking about my happiness tends to make people either jealous or ticked off. Mostly because they're aware of how they don't have the same thing I do.

And you know what? That anger is justified. I used to be one of them.

"That's ridiculous," Will told me the other day. "With anyone else but you and Gabe―" Will adores Gabe; the two get along like peas in a pod― "I'd feel frustrated, and acutely aware of my singledom. But how can I resent the two of you when you kiss in front of us? You're too beautiful together to resent."

Slim told me something along those lines, although he did warn me: "Yes. You match. It's amazing how you say the same things at the same time in random circumstances. You just... fit. But goddamn, Val, I'll admit I'm jealous. I want that too."

I wish everyone could find themselves a Gabe. That way I could talk freely about how disgustingly happy he makes me!

On that note, I have to get back to homework. Maybe I'll grab a snack, too. I'm getting hungry.

To all who remain, I should hope I'll post again before another two months have passed. 0.0

Love,
Val

Bwixgflihrl

I'm gone for three days and I return and find my inbox loaded.

Among other things (some spam regarding the legacy of a millionaire went directly to the junk folder), I was STUNNED to receive the following message (which Rensa kindly remarked on in the previous post :p):

Happy New Year! :)

You are receiving this message because you are one of the authors whose story made it to the second stage of voting, the Best Overall round. I will be announcing these results to the public later today, but I wanted to give you all an advance heads-up before the word goes out.

I must apologize for letting this go on so long. With the long list of participating fandoms this year, it was difficult to gather enough votes for a fair result. I will be revamping the Round Two process before the 2008 UFOs to make sure this doesn't happen again.

Today, however, I am pleased to finally present the winners list for Best Overall fanfiction of 2007:

-----------------------------------------------------------

First Place: "Only In The World of Dragons" by atruwriter
Second Place: "Of Course" by insidiae
Third Place: "Only in Hyrule" by CrazygurlMadness

-----------------------------------------------------------

The winners will be receiving separate emails shortly regarding their prizes. Congratulations!

This concludes the UFO Awards for 2007. I would like to thank you all once again for your patience and participation. We've had another successful year, and it's all thanks to the authors who allow us to honor them. Thank you so much for sticking with us over the past year, and I look forward to seeing you on the nominees list again. :)

Okay. Seriously. WHAT.

I am not only supremely flattered, I'm also highly embarrassed and excited and stunned. This just stumps me completely. If you'll recall, I made no advertisement whatsoever regarding this second round (Best Overall), mostly because I considered I didn't stand a chance.

...

Wow. Seriously. To all those who voted for me, thank you thank you thank you!!! I NEVER thought my writing would EVER be recognized to that extent, and you've seriously made me ecstatic and squealy.

That's right. I am seriously amazed and touched. Thank you a million times. You've given me incentive to keep pursuing my writing career, and I promise that I will let you know from now on about my writing projects (maybe even book deals... who knows? ;p ), even outside the world of fanfiction.



Love,
Val

Horrified gasp!

"Where are the managers?" BK, from the Staples Copy Centre, asks me as I try to find my boss, who has vanished for the past four hours.

"I don't know," I say. "Last thing I knew they were having a meeting in the office. But the door's closed and all you can hear from time to time are loud bouts of laughter."

BK pouts, her face thoughtful. "I bet they're jacking each other off."

I am horrified. "Oh my GOD!" I exclaim. "Of all the mental images, BK...!!"

She laughs. "It's my theory."

As I try to shake the picture out of my head, the office door swings open and the five managers walk out, looking smug. I turn to glance at BK. She's smirking. I struggle to keep from screaming, and fail when Slim walks around a shelf and throws me a box of pencils.

"For you," he says. "Also, do you have an X-acto? I have a lot of boxes to open."

Anyway. Work nonsense.

By the way, I swear I don't mean for the time between updates to grow longer. To be exact, it freaks me out.

In my defence, I haven't been sleeping full nights in three weeks. In some cases, I don't even sleep in my own bed!

Who knew studying screenwriting could be so exhausting? Hell, I'm studying screenwriting and I don't even have time to write anymore. Now THAT's preposterous. Or, if I DO write, it's essays on other movies, some of which are so boring that you end up BS-ing your way through to make the film sound like it has some meat on its extraordinarily boring bones.

And I still love my program, which I shouldn't because it keeps fucking me over. Last Tuesday I slept on the floor of the editing room at UQAM, because we had pulled the midnight to 8 AM shift and needed to get the work done. I couldn't go home because the trains stop running at 11:30PM, and anyway, we were locked in the pavillion. No one goes in, no one goes out.

Not to mention I had class the following morning, and my teammates woke me up by pouring water on my face, and they were SO SLOW working their films in Avid XPP that I shoved them out of the seats and did the remaining films myself. It's incredible how slow they were, and how fast I was considering I never had used the program before that night.

And Slim and Gabriel are relentless. Where I say something, I inevitably get ridiculed or ignored. But if I don't get the work done out of spite, they sidle up to me and act really nice.

The number of times I warned them I'd leave them is now countless.

On the upside, having proven my worth to the rest of the team, Jeremy and Patricia seem to appreciate me. And they help me to make things happen. Like dressing Slim as a woman on the public plaza of UQAM, and having him parade with dress, wig, lipstick and heels for a few hours, all for the pretense of making a movie exercise funnier. Or like forcing Gabriel to sleep overnight at UQAM with us, and harassing him to finish his essay section for the following morning (thereby keeping him from sleep).

So I get my sweet vengeance from time to time.

At work things are still good. Staples treats me well, and even Slim can't argue that they aren't accomodating. When my schedule at school prevents me from showing up on time, nobody says a word, and I don't get any pay reductions, or warnings, or anything. When I have a shitty week, they offer to give me Saturday off.

When Slim decides that pressure sales in the electronics department make him sick to the stomach and he asks to be moved to another department, they move him to floor. With me.

I have to say that I'm getting a little bit of an overdose of Slim. I still love him and all, but we get so edgy now that our tempers flare very easily...

And we still find the time to have movie ideas and consider buying prosumer Panasonic cameras worth 4 000$ because we want to make things happen. So as friends go, we get along well, but I'm slowly weaning off my desire to jump his bones. Because the last thing I need is to see him even more than I already do... not that I think it's possible.

I mean, we have the same university schedule, we travel together, we work together (and, because we have the same availability schedule on account of having the same classes, we have all the same shifts at work), and we go out to places together.

If that isn't conducive to murderous ... I can't imagine anything more efficient.

So I let Gabe flirt with me. And I kinda flirt back. Because Gabe is sharp, funny, he thinks I'm funny, and he seems to think I'm attractive. At 23, he probably has an idea what kind of girl he likes, and he isn't the type to mess with a girl then drop her the moment the honeymoon's over. He's steady, it looks like, and he's a little crazy.

And he's cute. I have to say I had noticed him way before I ever started liking Slim. So I'm holding out for that. :D

As per writing the oneshot for y'all, don't give up hope. I actually have a specific release date in mind, so yes, I AM waiting. Hee hee hee!

I'll try to be more consistent in updates, but only if sleep doesn't take priority.

Lotsa love,
CM

Joy!

So I figured in case I didn't mention this enough...

UFO Awards: Only in Hyrule comes 1st place for the Legend of Zelda category.


UFO Awards: Summit comes 3rd place for the Legend of Zelda category.


I love love love the fact that Dejana Talis (creator of the UFOs) used Colin and Talo's pics for the Summit award. :D

In thanks for those who voted, I promise I'll write a oneshot, to be released before the end of October (yeah, I know, it sounds like a long way off, but I'm rushed and overworked, so I need the extra time). Probably Zelink... and AU (surprising, huh?).

Love,
CM

Hacked, Sloshed, Repentant, Exhausted

If you're not ready for a sizeable tale, I'll simply give you a quick summary and you'll move along:

Slim's account got hacked into on Thursday, I got completely wasted on Friday, I felt utterly miserable and ashamed about it on Saturday, and Slim was an angel Sunday. And Monday. But then he became an asshole on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Actually, Slim was an angel the whole week through (except Tuesday and Wednesday of this week), but I'm trying to reduce my sense of guilt by reducing how much more amazing he was than I.

Before I begin telling you about Thursday, you have to know that it was Iva's birthday on Friday, and that, as usual, I had prepared a card for her. I had, however, changed my formula to include messages from all of our common friends, and the others had jumped in with so much enthusiasm that I was glad. The only one by Thursday night who still had his message to send was Slim.

So, of course, having not seen him online all evening, I jumped on the occasion the moment he sparked a conversation with me...

Slim: Okay!
Me: For the love of god. Do you have the message for Iva? D:
Slim: I LOVE IVAAA
Me: .... You want me to write that? Because I will.
Slim: yes lol
Slim: I always wanted to tell her that I LOVE HER
Me: You don't know what you're getting into. I swear I will.
Slim: Go for it.
Me: ... No, seriously?
Slim: yeah
Slim: GOD she's so pretty

I knew by then that Slim was not in his usual state of mind. For all that he HAD proclaimed to be interested in Iva, he'd denied with clarity and reason for the past four months that he just couldn't see any sparks. Not to mention, it was obvious to me that he was excited in ways that just weren't... Slim.

Me: Are you drunk atm? Because... um, you sound like a fifth-grader on crack.
Me: Slim?
Slim: frog?
Me: Okay.
Slim: I like turtles
Me: I'm going to step away now and pretend this encounter never happened.
Me: And whoever this is I'm talking to, you're charming. No, really.

Yeah, I knew by now that I wasn't talking to 'my' Slim. I figured it was a bad prank, either on Rick or Guy's parts...

Slim: lol im kidding , so wats up
Me: Not much. Le BeG était MORT aujourd'hui. ("The Staples was DEAD today." -- read: no customers)
Me: Slim est-ce que ça va? ("Slim, are you alright?")
Slim: speak american plz
Slim: what is that french?
Me: Look, I'm really tired and I want to get this done. Please.

I figured that whoever the prankster was, they'd just let Slim on so that I could get this overwith.

Slim: hm kay
Slim: i dont get it
Me: I don't understand. What is up with you??
Slim: i love you

Yeah, not my Slim. Not my Slim.

Goddammit, I hate heart-attacks.

Me: Right. Okay.
Me: I bet this is Erich or something. A prank.
Slim: lulz
Me: Jesus Christ.
Me: Slim, please.
Slim: where do you live
Slim: I dont know you at all
Slim: WAT DOYOU WANT FROM MEEEEE

So now I'm getting sick of the stupid prank. I snap.

Me: Look, if you're going to be this idiotic, I'd rather just go to bed. I'm tired and I've had a long day and I'm in a really weird mood that I'd rather not aggravate. Please.
Slim: okokok
Slim: but
Slim: realy
Slim: wat do you want
Me: Le message pour Iva.
Slim: wat MESSAGE!>??! damit
Me: FOR HER FUCKING CARD, GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.
Slim: WOW
Me: THE ONE WHERE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO WISH HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
Slim: calm down
Slim: oh sh-
Slim: ah yeah
Slim: gawd
Slim: hem
Slim: wait lemme think
Me: Look, I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to use caps... much.
Slim: its ok its ok
Slim: tell her...
Slim: IDK I HACKED THAT ACCOUNT AND I DONT FUCKING CARE
Slim: YOU DOOFUS

At this point, I'm pondering that perhaps the hacking story is true. So I start texting Slim.

And Melanie also starts speaking to me.

Mel: CM, are you talking to Slim?!
Me: A guy stole his account.
Mel: Goddammit.
Me: Stop talking to him, I'm calling Slim.
Mel: Okay, good. I hate people that dumb.

Meanwhile,

Hack: GO TO BED AND GO FUCK YOUR SELF YOU DIPSHIT
Hack: oh lawd i hacked a frenchy

I finally contact Slim. He's away from home, at Rick's place, except he confirms he's not on MSN at all, and so he takes the news with incredulity. He assures me he'd check things out, and I turn back to my computer, phone in hand, and decide that, since I'm dealing with an actual hacker, I might as well have fun.

Me: So if I speak to you in French, you won't understand shit?
Me: Hahahaha. Sweet.
Hack: lol frog
Me: Je présume que grenouille fait référence à notre francophonie, ce qui, en fait, est une croyance erronée, puisque nous ne sommes pas français, ni le possesseur de ce compte volé, ni moi-même. ("I presume that the frog refers to our French origins, which, in fact, is an erroneous belief, seeing as we are not French, neither the owner of this stolen account nor myself.")
Hack: je peu parler francais ("I can speak in French.")
Me: Nice. In that case, you'll realise what I just told you. And you'll cease with the frog thing.
Hack: ok mais c juste drole ("Okay, but it's just funny.")
Me: Bof. Pas plus que ça. ("Meh. Not that much.")
Hack: pour moi ("For me.")
Me: Ah, je vois. ("Ah, I see.")
Hack: paske g tout ses accounts (" 'Cause I have all his accounts.")

Here, Slim starts to cuss because I just relayed this information to him. He consults Rick and Ban for suggestions on how to tackle the intruder. Meanwhile, I do my best to find out more.

Me: Pourquoi, exactement? Ça te sert à quoi? ("Why, exactly? What use does it have for you?")
Hack: rien mais je vais prendre son steam pour voir si ya du bon stuff ("Nothing, but I'm going to take his Steam to see if he's got good stuff.")

Which is when the hacker gets forcefully disconnected. I watched as Slim's account flickered on and off, alternating between the name Slim had set up at Rick's place and the one our hacker had changed it to.

Me: lol
Hack: wut

He gets disconnected again.

Me: LOL

He connects again.

Hack: WHAT
Me: LOL!

And then, the flickering stops.

Hack: ya plus de danger maintenant ("No threat anymore.")
Hack: JAI CHANGER LE PASS ("I changed his password.")

Slim, on the phone, can't understand why he can't log in anymore. I relay this new information to him, as well as the information about his Steam account. Slim quickly decides the money invested in his Steam account is worth more than his free email account. With a new cuss, he races to change his Steam account to a new email address. But for this, he needs to create one. So I try to stall the hacker.

Me: Pourquoi? ("Why?")
Hack: cuz im leet
Me: Do you enjoy this?
Hack: nop
Me: Do you even know him?
Hack: nop
Me: Then... why?
Hack: im evil thats why

Here he managed to get into Slim's Steam account and look at his purchases. Slim was finalizing his new email address.

Hack: lol he's a gamer
Me: Yeah, we all are.
Hack: cool
Hack: would you be my friend
Me: Sure. Where you from?
Hack: I LOL'D
Hack: in fact i'm from montreal
Hack: i have a list of 9000 emails
Hack: pis c juste une coincidence ke jai pogner un email de montreal ("And it's just a coincidence that I got an email from Montreal.")
Hack: so, yeah
Me: But why are you taking his Steam stuff?
Hack: wanna play 1.6
Me: Let me get this straight.
Me: You can hack into people's accounts, but instead of using those skills to get your own Steam, you take others'?
Me: That doesn't make much sense...

Here, Slim assures me his Steam account was tranferred and that it is safe. So I start probing for more, even as Ban also speaks to the hacker, using different methods. At this point, Slim logs in with his new address.

Slim2: Hey.
Me: Hey.
Slim2: That's the real me btw.
Slim2: My Steam and Facebook are safe.
Me: I know, I'm comforted... but please change your font color and shit 'cause otherwise I'm confused. The other guy has the standard default text, like you right now.
Me: God, the asshole said so many things that just weren't you. I thought you were drunk at first.
Slim2: Whenever you have the chance, tell people to re-ad me. But don't write my account in your name 'cause he'll see it.
Me: Obviously. I'm not an idiot. 9.9
Slim2: And I can make a lot of changes 'cause I'm on old MSN.
Me: Cool. Um... is there anything happening?
Me: 'Cause the asshole is just sitting there.
Slim2: He's talking to Ban and he's trying to send him a list of all the hacked e-mails he has, but we don't want to dl just in case it's bad.
Me: Good.
Slim2: He has hacked over 9000 accounts, and apparently he's 17.
Slim2: And the biggest loser on Earth.
Me: Hahaha
Slim2: I'll ask Dan at Staples about this.
Me: Yeah, but I doubt he'll do much.
Slim2: Worth a shot.
Me: I guess.

Meanwhile:

Me: What else can you see? Of Slim's stuff?
Hack: i dont care
Hack: that he watch porn daily
Me: Okay. And...?
Hack: He bangs. lol

I know Slim's aversion for Internet porn, so I discard this information as useless.

Me: Charming. That's it? That's the extent of your reach?
Hack: probably
Me: Huh. I guess that's interesting.
Hack: anyway ... Want his passwords?
Hack:

Ban dit: yo how was that chick last night u drove home
SPAM THIS ADDRESS dit: dammmm she was so good
SPAM THIS ADDRESS dit : she wanted it in the ass
Ban dit :lol aiight dude wut are u trying to prove here

Me: So you have access to all his online stuff?
Me: Wait lol You have MSN in French?

This is a reference to the fact that his copy-pasted conversations included the verb 'dit', which is French for 'says'.

Me: Hahahaha
Hack: wat?
Hack: why
Hack: no
Hack: ahh yeah

Slim2:I told ya CM.
Me: That your week would be ruined because you were too happy?
Slim2: Yeah, remember the other day, I was telling you how happy I was...
Slim2: And I knew something bad would happen to bring me down?
Slim2: There. I'm cursed.
Me: I think that there's a lesson here, but I prefer not to think about it in case it makes you suicidal. Slim, please, don't let this ruin your good mood. I beg you.

Me: Are you ever going to give him his account back, once you're done?
Me: 'Cause I don't think he really minds much, but it's inconvenient for the rest of us lol
Hack: im tired i have school tomorow so bai

I leave him alone for a while, speaking on the phone with Slim about whatever Ban has gathered. Notably his age.

Me: So, you're seventeen?
Hack: Ya bitch!
Me: Impressive. I thought it was way past your bedtime by now?
Hack: lawl
Me: :P I try to be amusing when I can. It's what old people do.
Hack: im so 1337 stfu
Me: Hahaha and you l33tspeak. I remember the good ole times...
Hack: y34h
Hack:

Ban dit : listen we have like our childhood in that account it would be awesome if u could give it back master
SPAM THIS ADDRESS dit : Ohmagawd
Ban dit : svp mon seigneur ("Please my lord")

Hack: lol what a retarded

I tell Ban to stop, because he's making fun of them and begging is not only degrading, it's also useless. I plan to use alternate methods.

Slim2: We don't care if he's laughing at Ban.
Slim2: And no, I'm not that sad; I was scared for my Steam account mostly.
Slim2: But I still have it.
Me: Yeah, it's just that this is the kind of thing that will obsess you.

Me: Bah, he's a good guy. Honestly, though, you didn't answer my previous question. WILL you return the account? Or do you not know how?

Yeah, that insult was deliberate.

Hack: ITS OVER NINE THOUSAND
Me: So you DON'T know how. Okay, I'll be sure to tell him to set up a new account, then.
Hack: 'kay
Hack: good idea
Hack: GTFO MA INTERWEBZ
Me: Am I supposed to take this as a warning that you'll remove me from his contact list?

I was hoping he wouldn't, because while I had him talking, he was still catchable.

Hack: no
Hack: u such a newfag

To make sure, I use some reverse psychology.

Me: I'm just asking, because you'd actually be doing me a favour.
Hack: no
Hack: why do you keep me then YOU ENJOY IT LIKE ALITTLE BITCH
Me: In a way, yeah. It's highly entertaining to talk with you.
Hack: THANK YOU
Hack: i apreciate
Me: I mean only to be truthful.

Now that I had him, I was going to keep him until he went insane. I couldn't get Slim's address back, but I could at least make the hacker regret EVER opening a conversation with me. And I'd be so nice about it, too.

Me: So is this how you spend your evenings? What do you study in school?
Me: I assume you're in cegep.
Me: I was in arts.
Hack: lol youll not believe me but im studying in technique en batiment (basically, that's like a high school specialized diploma in building development and construction)
Me: Really? So you're doing a technique. Nice. We need more of those.
Me: And you like it?
Hack: yes
Hack: ill be rich
Hack: more than you loolololol

Me: Gah, the snarky little twerp. He's studying technique en bâtiment in cegep.
Slim2: Ok, I'm out; I'll log back in, in 15 mins.

He was headed home, where he'd have a broader access to his accounts. So I keep the hacker online. Ban logs out, defeated. I'm alone to fight the hacker.

Me: Hahaha probably. But whatever, you do what you love and all.
Hack: hmhmm
Me: Aw, Ban left.
Me: I'm sad now.
Hack: baww
Me: So what are you up to atm? I'm bored.
Me: Tell me.

He foolishly took too much time to reply. I unleashed my wrath.

Me: Don't make me sing Disney songs to you, dude.
Me: I know a lot of them.
Me: Talk to me.
Hack: wat
Me: How about this one: "Well Ali Baba had them forty thieves, Scheherezade had a thousand tales..."
Hack: what the...
Me: "Master you're in luck 'cause up your sleeve you got a brand of magic that never fails"
Hack: oh lawd
Me: It's Friend Like Me from Aladdin.
Me: Awesome, right?
Hack: hemm .yea?
Me: I know. And I know plenty more.
Me: Like, "It's the ciiiiiiiircle of liiiiiife and it moves us aaaaaall!"
Hack: tu me fait penser a une de mes amies ("You make me think of one of my friends.")
Me: PEUT-ÊTRE QUE C'EST MOI! ("MAYBE IT'S ME!")
Me: HAHAHAHA
Hack: non elle parle pas francais ("No, she doesn't speak French.")
Me: Ah, dommage. ("Ah, too bad.")
Hack: et elle vie en virginia ("And she lives in Virginia.")
Hack: so
Me: "Be... our... guest, be our guest, put our service to the test, tie your napkin round your neck chérie and we'll provide the rest."
Me: J'aime ça, je peux te chanter des chansons de Disney et tu me cries pas après. ("I like this, I can sing you Disney songs and you don't scream at me.")
Hack: rofl
Me: Moi j'ai une amie au Texas. Elle parle pas beaucoup français. Elle me niaise en disant 'mercy buckets". ("I have a friend in Texas. She doesn't speak much French. She teases me by saying 'mercy buckets'.")
Me: C'est d'un charmant à plus finir. ("It's of a never-ending charm.")
Hack: lmao
Hack: bin moi elle dit tabarnak pis calisse ("Well, mine swears a lot.")
Me: So anyway, je connais aussi la Petite Sirène. ("So anyway, I also know the Little Mermaid.")
Me: Et la Belle au Bois Dormant. ("And Sleeping Beauty.")
Me: Choisis en une, je vais voir si je la connais. ("Choose one, I'll see if I know it.")
Hack: je sais pas ("I don't know.")
Hack: roy lion ("Lion King.")
Me: Quoi? Tu connais pas tes classiques de Disney---ah, c'est mieux. ("What? You don't know your Disney classics-- ah, that's better.")
Me: Hm... voyons voir. ("Hm... let's see.")
Me: "Oh I just can't WAIT to be king!"
Hack: voir ke tu ten rapelle ("Figures you'd remember.")
Me: Ben oui. Je connais aussi the Hunchback of Notre-Dame. ("Well yeah. I also know the Hunchback of Notre-Dame.")
Me: "What I'd give, what I'd dare, just to live one day out there!!!!"
Hack: AHAHAH ALOOLOL
Hack: sa sa ma fait rire irl ("That, that made me laugh in real life.")
Me: Bon, tu vois? C'est ça, la magie de Disney. ("Well, you see? That's Disney magic.")
Hack: lul
Me: Tu devrais re-regarder ça. ("You should re-watch them movies.")
Me: C'est franchement bon. ("It's jolly good.")
Hack: mouin en VHS ("Yeah, in VHS.")
Me: Ben oui. Quoique moi je les télécharge. ("Well yes. Although I download them.")
Hack: ouin too ("Me too.")
Me: Parce que notre VHS est pété. C'est triste. ("Because our VHS machine is broken. It's sad.")
Hack: oh
Me: Oui, je sais. ("Yeah, I know.")
Hack: coudon tu me parle doncbin ("Say, you talk to me a lot.")
Me: (Ben, vu que tu comptes pas me deleter, je me le permets!) À moment donné, il a mangé notre VHS de Free Willy. ("(Well, since you're not going to delete me, I allow myself!) At one point, it ate our Free Willy VHS.")
Me: J'ai eu le coeur brisé. ("My heart shattered.")
Hack: lol ki sa ("lol Who?")
Me: Notre lecteur VHS. Essaie de suivre, là, je te raconte un dur chapitre de ma vie, dude. Toi, t'as déjà vécu un moment difficile comme ça? Ça frappe, hein? ("Our VHS machine. Try to follow, please, I'm telling you about a rough chapter in my life, dude. You, have you ever lived a difficult moment like that? It's hard, huh?")
Hack: oh oui c'est des momments triste ki sont dure a en parler ("Oh, yeah, they're sad moments I find hard to talk about.")
Me: Chill, chill. Moi je comprends ça. ("Chill, chill, I understand that.")

At this point, Hack logged out, and back in.

Me: Tiens, tu m'as soit bloqué, soit t'es vraiment offline. ("Well, you either blocked me, you're either really offline.")
Me: Ça, ça m'attriste. ("Now that saddens me.")
Slim: CM it's me I can take it back.
Slim: I'm struggling

He's forcefully logged out, but comes back in again.

Slim: Proof its me:
Slim: Staples tomorrow.
Me: DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Slim: Noon to nine.
Me: :D :D :D :D :D I can tell it's you.

Log out then back in.

Slim: But he keeps logging me off.
Me: The font is different.
Slim: I have to change my password.

Here, the unexpected occurs. An unknown email address tries to add me to their contacts.

Me: He's trying to add me to his own personal list.
Slim: Obviously, don't.
Slim: Is it "citizen-m-x" who's trying to add you?
Me: Yes. But I blocked him.
Slim: 'Kay. Remember this account name. I'm logging as my other name.
Me: Alright.
Slim: Wait 2 sec.
Me: Ok.

Slim then forcefully gets kicked.

Hack: hey
Me: Hey, it's you again! What's up?

But the struggle continues. Slim returns.

Slim: The only way I can still log in this account is because the passcode is recorded on my PC, so whatever the passcode is, I have it...
Slim: Can I call you?
Me: Wait, on my cell.
Slim: Ok, I'm calling.

Slim then leaves, and the hacker returns.

Hack: finaly
Me: Hello again!
Hack: lol
Me: So. More singing?
Hack: HELLE no plzzzzz
Me: But my voice is so charming!
Hack: yea sure taime tu mieu francais ou englais? ("Do you like French or English more?")
Me: Les deux! Chuis bilingue à 100%! :D ("Both! I'm 100% bilingual!")
Me: Toi? ("You?")
Hack: francais ("French.")
Me: Ah. Alors je te mets mal à l'aise quand je parle anglais? ("Ah. So I make you uncomfortable when I speak in English?")
Hack: non c'est juste que jaime mieu sa sa definis mieu se kon dit ("No, I just find that French defines what we say better.")
Me: Bof, quand t'as le vocabulaire, ça marche quand même. ("Bah, when you have the vocabulary, it works just fine.")
Me: AH! Je saigne! J'me suis accrochée!!! ("AH! I'm bleeding! I scraped myself!")

Note: This is a lie, because the last thing I want is to get into a heated language argument with him.

Hack: je sais pas je trouve sa mieu ("I dunno, I think it's better.")
Hack: wat
Me: J'ai une piqûre de moustique sur le poignet. Des fois ça saigne. :( ("I have a mosquito bite on my wrist. Sometimes it bleeds.")

Note: This is true.

Me: Mais pleure pas pour moi, j'vais être ok. ("But don't cry for me. I'll be okay.")
Hack: c'est trop dure je craque! ("It's too hard, I'm done for!")
Hack: HUHUHU (*sobbing*)
Me: Je sais!!! Moi aussi je trouve ça triste! Prends un kleenex, ça va passer, je te le promets. Je suis fière de toi. En masse. ("I know!!! I also find it sad! Take a kleenex, it'll pass, I promise. I'm so proud of you. Really.")
Hack: tas laire de kelkun ke jai deja vu sa photo mais je suis pa sure ("Your picture looks like someone of whom I've seen the face somewhere... But I'm not sure.")
Me: Je sais pas, là. C'est une photo de moi au pays des grenouilles. C'est chill. ("Dunno, but it's a picture of me in frog-land. It's chill.")

On the phone, Slim and I are discussing the best way to force the guy out of Slim's account and into his own, where Slim can talk to him. Slim had used his secondary address to add the hacker's true email, and was waiting to ambush him for explanations. I assure him I've got it covered, and carefully lay out bait with a few well-placed lies.

Me: Hey, t'as essayé de me adder? ("Hey, you tried to add me?")
Hack: non? ("No?")

He's lying, and I know it, but if he fakes it, then I choose to play into his hand.

Hack: ki ta adder ("Who added you?")
Hack: c kel msn ("What's the MSN address?")
Me: Je sais plus, je connaissais fuckall l'adresse, mais là yé offline. ("I dunno, I didn't recognize it, but right now he's offline.")
Me: Je crois...... ("I think......")
Hack: lol ouais je ment je tes adder ("Yeah, I lied, I added you.")
Hack: tas laire sociable faque ("You seem sociable, so.")
Me: Ah merci. Mais là tant qu'à yêtre, j'peux tu juste avoir ton screenname à c't'adresse là? Ça me disturbe quand c'est juste l'adresse courriel qui est affichée. D: ("Ah, thanks. But since we're at it, could I just have your screenname for that address? It disturbs me when it's just the email displayed.")

I'm forcing the guy to log in, and I cross my fingers in the hopes that it'll work and he'll fall for the ploy.

On the phone, a few seconds pass, and Slim says, "He's in! I've got him!"

But the hacker hasn't left Slim's true email account. So we presume he's got two Messengers running tandem. Still, I gloat.

Me: Ahah, moi aussi je mens. ("Ahah, I lied too.")
Me: Je t'ai pas addé. ("I didn't add you.")
Me: J'suis sociable, pas stupide. :P ("I'm sociable, not stupid.")
Hack: lotre ma adder en tuka ("The other guy added me, in any case.")

And I give him at taste of his own medicine.

Me: Qui ça? ("Whom?")
Hack: slim
Me: Sérieux?? LOL Comment ya fait??n ("Seriously?? LOL How did he do it??")
Hack: ben tu ya surement donner duh ("Well, you obviously gave it to him, duh.")
Me: ...???? Non, fuckall!
Hack: lfmao
Me: C'est ça qui me fait rire!!!!! Yo, c'est chill. Attends, je l'appelle. ("That's what makes me laugh! Yo, that's chill. Wait, I'm calling him.")
Me: Hahaha he likes you!!!
Hack: wutt
Me: Wow, sérieux, c'est trop drôle cette situation. Si on m'avait dit que je jaserais avec le hacker du compte d'un de mes amis pis que ça serait aussi le fun... lol!!!! ("Wow, seriously, this situation is too funny. If someone had told me that I'd be chatting with the hacker of one of my friends' accounts and that it'd be this fun... lol!")
Hack: rofl yep
Me: Non, mais Slim je crois qu'yé impressionné. ("No, but I think Slim's impressed.")
Hack: lol
Me: Yé genre, wtf c'est nice ("He's like, wtf it's nice.")

This is a lie.

Hack: heinnnn ("Huuuuh?")
Me: Quoi? Ça te surprend? ("What, you're surprised?")
Hack: un peu lol ("A little, lol")
Me: Ah. :P
Hack: i didnt done dat before and its fun
Me: Ben c'est quand même cool, là. Genre, ça doit pas arriver souvent que tu te fais sérénader avec des chansons de Disney. ("Well, it's pretty cool, there. Like, it mustn't happen often that you get serenaded with Disney songs.")
Hack: mouin.. jesaye deviter le plus souvent posssible ("Yeah, I avoid that as often as possible.")
Me: Pourquoi? Je croyais qu'on était d'accord que Disney, yé chill. ("Why? I thought we agreed Disney was chill.")
Hack: ouinouin okok
Me: Meeeerci. Là fait moi pas te le rappeler une autre fois. ("Thaaaaaank you. Now don't make me remind you another time.")
Hack: lol
Me: "Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the girl, the girl who has everything?"
Me: Ah la petite sirène... ("Ah, the Little Mermaid.")
Hack: asti lol
Me: Je connais aussi la Belle et la Bête en anglais ET en français. ("I also know the Beauty and the Beast in English AND French.")
Me: Je peux te faire un comparatif, si tu veux. ("I can give you a comparison, if you want.")
Hack: ok ouin ("Okay, yeah.")
Me: "Histoire éternelle... qu'on ne croit jamais! De deux inconnus qu'un geste imprévu rapproche en secret... Et soudain se pose sur leurs coeurs en fête un papillon rose, un rien pas grand-chose, une fleur offerte!" ("Eternal story... which we never believe! Of two strangers that an unexpected gesture brought together in secret... And suddenly lands on their joyful hearts a pink butterfly, a litte nothing, an offered flower!")
Hack: oh sh- remember dat
Me: "Tale as old as time, true as it can be... Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly. Just a little change, small to say the least, both a little scared, neither one prepared, beauty and the beast!" etc.
Me: J'adore celui-là. C'est mon préféré! :D ("I love that one. It's my favourite!")
Hack: hayoye ("Damn.")
Me: Hihi ("Heehee")
Hack: non mais ta kel age ("Wow, but how old are you?")
Me: Eh bien, mon jeune chenapan, il se trouve que je suis plus âgée que toi. ("Well, my young rascal, it so happens that I'm older than you.")
Hack: hooo
Me: Oui oui!
Hack: ok bin je figure ke tas genre 20 kelkechose ("Okay, well I figure you're like twenty or something.")
Me: Oui, exactement. J'ai vingt-sept ans et j'attends mon premier enfant. ("Yes, exactly. I'm twenty-seven and I'm expecting my first child.")
Me: Je me suis replongée dans Disney pour mieux accueillir l'enfant en gestation. ("I re-immersed myself into Disney to better welcome the gestating infant.")
Hack: holy shit ta 27 ans ("Holy shit you're twenty-seven!")
Hack: OLOLOLOLOLOL
Hack: jaurais tout vue ("I'll have seen everything.")
Me: Oui, sauf un homme qui mange sa propre tête. ("Yes, except a man eating his own head.")
Hack: heh
Me: Non, en fait, t'as pas vu les nombreux films pornos dans lesquels j'ai tourné. ("No, actually, you didn't see the numerous porn films in which I acted.")
Me: Mais c'est compréhensible, t'as pas encore l'âge. ("But that's understandable, you're not old enough yet.")
Hack: r u kidding me?
Me: Non.
Hack: heu ("Huh.")
Me: Pourquoi je me dégraderais? Je fais pas des blagues sur ce genre de chose. J'avais besoin d'argent. ("Why would I debase myself? I don't do jokes about this kind of thing. I needed money.")
Hack: c koi sa sti tu me chante des chansons de disney pis la tu me dit ke ta jouer dans plein de films porn ("What the fuck is that? You sing me Disney songs and then you tell me you played in plenty of porn films.")
Me: Quoi, parce qu'une actrice porno peut pas être UN PEU normale? ("What, 'cause a porn actress can't be a LITTLE normal?")
Hack: mais jen doute pas... ("But I don't doubt it...")
Hack: bin je sais pas la ("Well, I don't know.")
Hack: dans kel films lol ("Which movies?")

Here I asked Slim for suggestions. He didn't even hesitate.

Me: Collégienne en chaleur 8 ("College Girl in Heat 8")
Me: Mais tu risques pas de le trouver sur Google; c'était vraiment amateur comme prod. ("But you probably won't find it on Google; it was really an amateur prod.")
Hack: yuk
Me: Ben oui, pourquoi tu penses que j'suis enceinte à c't'heure? ("Well, yeah, why do you think I'm pregnant now?")
Hack: pense tu vraiment jva croire sa ("Do you really think I'd believe that?")
Me: Check, je mentirais pas, ok? Quand je mens, je le dis. Preuve à l'appui plus haut. J'suis pas capable de garder mon mensonge très longtemps. ("Look, I wouldn't lie, okay? When I lie, I say so. Proof above. I can't keep a lie very long.")
Me: Je sais pas, ça doit être ma mère qui me l'a appris. ("I dunno, must have been my mother who taught me.")
Me: Toi, ta mère a t'a jamais dit de pas mentir? ("Didn't your mother ever teach you not to lie?")

Yeah, that was deliberate.

Hack: non
Hack: arete de me troller komme une fagget ("Stop trolling me like a faggot.")
Me: Quoi, maintenant tu veux plus me parler? C'est comique, quand même. Ça te dérangeait pas que je chante des chansons de Disney? Je peux continuer, si tu veux. ("What, now you don't want to speak to me? That's amusing. It didn't bother you that I sang Disney songs? I can keep going if you want.")
Hack: nah its ok
Me: Bon, alors, je vais continuer à parler. ("Well, then, I'll keep talking.")
Me: Comme l'autre jour, j'ai vu un écureuil ninja. ("Like, the other day, I saw a ninja squirrel.") No joke.

Seriously, there's no joke here.

Hack: sti ("Fuck.")
Me: Ya sérieusement évité de se faire écraser par le train en sautant un double-backflip par dessus les rails. C'était fucking intense!! ("He seriously avoided getting crushed by the train by doing a double backflip over the rails. It was fucking intense!!")
Me: Alors je l'ai surnommé l'écureuil ninja. ("So I nicknamed it the ninja squirrel.")
Hack: shit ta 27 and pis tes demem jen revien po lol ("Shit, you're twenty-seven and you're this way; I can't believe it.")
Me: Ah, oui, tsé quand j'ai dit que j'étais pas capable de garder un mensonge très longtemps? ("Oh, yeah, you know when I said I can't keep a lie very long?")
Me: Ben j'ai passé ma limite: j'ai pas vingt-sept. ("Well, I passed my limit: I'm not twenty-seven.")
Me: En fait j'ai quinze. ("In fact, I'm fifteen.")
Hack: wahwahwah
Me: Non, je crois que je file pour avoir vingt-trois. ("No, I think I'm up for being twenty-three.")
Hack: sa parasait ("It showed.")
Me: Je sais pas. J'arrive pas à me décider. ("I don't know. I can't make up my mind.")
Hack: non la ta 15 pi c'est vrai ("No, you're fifteen, and this time it's true.")
Me: Ok, alors, on va y aller pour quinze. ("Okay, fine, so we'll go for fifteen.")
Me: Bon. Alors qu'est-ce que je faisais quand j'avais quinze ans, déjà? ("So. What did I do back when I was fifteen, again?")
Me: Est-ce que c'était l'âge des animés japonais? Je m'en rappelle plus. ("Was it the age of japanese anime? I don't remember anymore.")
Hack: hayoye tu metourdis ("Damn, you're dizzying me.")
Me: J'pense qu'à cet âge-là je mangeais beaucoup de nutella. ("I think at that age I ate a lot of nutella.")
Hack: ROFL
Me: J'avais des angoisses intenses. ("I had intense anxiety attacks.")
Hack: hein ("Huh?")
Me: Pis le chocolat, tu savais que ça encourageait la libération d'endorphines qui sont, en fait, l'hormone du plaisir? Ça fait que ça me relaxait. ("And the chocolate, you know it encouraged the release of endorphins, which are, in fact, pleasure hormones? So it relaxed me.")
Me: C'était très thérapeutique. ("It was very therapeutical.")
Hack: ah ouin cool ("Oh yeah, cool.")
Me: Ouais, sérieux. ("Yeah, seriously.")
Me: C'est pour ça que le chocolat est offert aux femmes de nos jours; ça les met de meilleure humeur pour le sexe. ("That's why chocolate is offered to women these days; it puts them in a better mood for sex.")
Me: Dans Collégienne 8 je mimais l'orgasme en mangeant du chocolat de la main de mon sexy prof de gym. ("In College Girl 8 I mimed an orgasm by eating chocolate out of my sexy gym teacher's hand.")
Hack: oh sh-
Me: Ouais, cette scène là était vraiment nice. J'ai eu des bons commentaires à son sujet. ("Yeah, that scene was really nice. I got many good comments about it.")

As I write this, I'm laughing to tears on the phone with Slim, and Slim can't help but chuckle, in spite of the shitty situation.

Me: Surtout au sujet du plan en contre-plongée où on voit que je porte pas de culotte sous ma jupe. ("Especially the tilt-up where you see I'm not wearing panties under my skirt.")
Hack: speak donc alemend ("Speak German.")

What? I'm confused, but I gamely improvise.

Me: Das is schmeterling! Das isten grossenmuter.
Me: Yo, chuis surprise. ("Yo, I'm surprised.")
Me: Comment t'as deviné que mon père était allemand?? ("How did you guess my father was German??")

Another lie, not that anyone cares by now. I'm obviously confusing him.

Hack: wierp op dat jij Duits wegens jouw achternaam sprak. ^^
Hack: jouw achternaam

I don't know German, so there's no way for me to decide or react to what he wrote.

Me: ouain, ok, t'es meilleur que moi. ("Yeah, okay, you're better than me.")
Hack: a merde ("Ah, shit.")
Me: Bof, c'est pas de ma faute. ("Bah, it's not my fault.")
Me: J'ai pas vraiment eu à l'apprendre. ("I didn't really need to learn it.")
Hack: cest koi le rapport de la cravate ("What the deal with the neck tie?")
Me: Yen a pas, dude.....? La cravate a été inventée par les Croates. ("There's none, dude...? Neck ties were invented by Croatians.")
Hack: lol
Me: T'as pas écouté Vrak TV dans le temps qu'yavait des capsules éducatives? ("Didn't you watch Vrak-TV back in the days of educative breaks?")
Me: Ou c'était avant ton temps? ("Or was it before your time?")
Hack: non avant cetais canalfamille ("No, before Vrak-TV there was the Family Channel.")
Hack: dumb
Me: Oui, je m'en rappelle! Moi j'aimais les zigotos. ("Yeah, I remember! I loved the Weirdos.")
Me: C'était trop nice comme émission! ("It was too nice, as a show!")
Hack: les bananes enpijamas ("Bananas in Pyjamas.")
Me: Booof c'était un peu con. J'aimais mieux voir des kids se foutre tout entiers dans une mare de glu. ("Bah, it was a little stupid. I preferred to watch kids throw themselves whole into a pond of slime.")
Hack: AH OUIN SA ("OH YEAH, THAT!")
Me: Sérieux!!!!
Hack: stai koi donc le nom ("What was the name...?")
Me: Les zigotos, j'te dis. ("The Weirdos, I tell you.")
Me: C'était la mare à la grenouille. ("The slime was the Frog Pond.")
Hack: avec ala marmite? ("With the cauldron?")
Me: Oui.
Hack: ah ouin sti sa sa torchai ("Hell yeah, damn, that owned.")
Me: Je sais. Moi j'écoutais ça religieusement. ("I know. I watched it religiously.")
Hack: ouin ("Yeah.")
Hack: ou sinon chaire de poule ("That, or Goosebumps.")
Me: Yo, ça, ça me faisait peur. ("Yo, that scared me.")
Hack: ouin en sal ("Yeah, honestly.")
Me: J'aimais pas les trucs d'horreur, pis j'aime toujours pas ça. ("I didn't like horror shows, and I still don't.")
Hack: same
Me: Moi j'ai eu des cauchemars intenses à propos de l'épisode avec le matelas plein de vers de terres. ("I had intense nightmares because of the episode with the mattress full of worms.")
Hack: ah ouin le pere ki devien vegetale jmen rapel ("Oh, yeah, the dad who turns plant, I remember it.")
Me: Ouais, ça me faisait peur. ("Yeah, that scared me.")
Hack: ou sinon les epouvantaille ("Or the scarecrows.")
Me: Je sais plus c'est lequel. Mais celui du parc d'attraction possédé ça me faisait vraiment badtripper. ("I don't remember that one. But the one with the possessed funpark really gave me a bad trip.")
Hack: ouin sa me dit dekoi ("Yeah, that sounds familiar...")
Me: Yavais comme trois épisodes de suite sur ce même parc-là, genre. J'me rappelle plus des détails, mais ça me foutait la chienne que le monde pouvait plus sortir. ("There were like three follow-up episodes for that same park. I don't remember the details, but it gave me the creeps that nobody could get out.")
Hack: AH OUI SAAAA ("OH YEAH THAAAT!")
Hack: avec la ptite vieille ("With the little old lady.")
Me: OUI EXACTEMENT
Hack: pis la piscine avec dla boucanne ("And the pool with the smoke?")
Me: Oui, mais à moment donné yavait pas un boutte où y se faisaient poursuivre par des zombie, genre? Pis là la famille captive DEVIENT ZOMBIE?? Yo j'ai la chienne des zombies. ("Yes, but then at one point wasn't there a part where they were getting pursued by zombies? And then the captive family BECOMES ZOMBIE? Yo, zombies scare me.")
Hack: ahahah
Me: Mais j'aime Resident Evil. ("But I like Resident Evil.")
Hack: jai un guide contre les zombie en pdf ("I have a PDF guide against zombies.")
Me: SWEET
Me: Tu l'as trouvé où? ("Where did you find it?")
Hack: men rapel plus c mon ami ki me la sent ("I don't remember, it's my friend who sent it to me.")
Me: Ah, dommage. ("Ah, shame.")
Hack: bin je lai encore si tu veu ke je te le send ("Well, I still have it. If you want it I can send it to you.")

Like I'm dumb enough to say yes?

Me: Je sais pas, j'ai des problèmes recently avec mes transfers de fichiers. ("I dunno, I have problems recently with file transfers.")
Me: Sur MSN, je veux dire. ("In MSN, I mean.")
Hack: ok debor ("Okay, then.")
Me: J'vais sûrement comme, upgrader ma version. Mais j'ai jamais le temps. ("I'll probably, like, upgrade my version. But I never have the time.")
Hack: mouin ("Yeah.")
Me: Ah, fuck MSN. Si c'était pas des conversations drôles qui m'arrivent occasionnellement. Comme aujourd'hui. ("If it weren't for the funny conversations that occasionally happen, like today...")
Hack: j'aime mieu skype ("I prefer Skype.")
Me: ... Me semble que c'est MSN que t'utilises, là? ("Isn't MSN what you're using right now?")
Hack: oui cest sa mais jaime mieu skype. skype c po des accounts hotmail ("Yeah, that's right, but I prefer Skype. Skype isn't Hotmail addresses.")
Me: Ben c'est ça que je me disais. ("That's what I figured.")
Me: Anywayz, moi je vais y aller. Je travaille demain. ("Anywayz, I'll be off. I work tomorrow.")
Hack: fukken same
Me: Yeah. So peut-être qu'on se reparle lol! ("So maybe we'll talk again!")
Hack: surement ("Probably.")
Me: Chill chill.
Hack: kbai
Me: kbye

I logged off, and on the phone, Slim suddenly says, "CM! The guy thinks you're cool!"

"Really?" I laugh, and turn my computer off. Slim is reading the hacker's comments about me out loud.

" 'She's chill, your friend.' Uh... I replied with 'I know, man' and a wink." He types as he speaks, " 'She... is... freaking... awesome...' "

I laugh. Slim amuses me. "Well, look, I think I'll really be going to sleep, so--"

"Wait! OH MY GOD."

"What??"

Slim's voice is in shock. "He just gave me the new password. He gave up my address. ... He says it's only because we're both really cool."

So. What do you know. Slim got his address back, and we both went to bed, confused, amused, and pleased.

Friday night, though, was another story.

We finished our shift around ten, and my brother, his girlfriend, Slim and I were to head on up to Moe's for a night of tomfoolery.

Yeah, sure, my brother is underage, but nobody cares.

That said, Slim owed me money, so he decided he'd pay me back by sharing a pitcher with me. Except he owed me 15$, and since the pitchers cost 11$, he still owed me 4$, which is incidentally the cost of one tequila shot.

And Liz paid me a second tequila shot.

So after three glasses of beer and two tequila shots, Slim and I were both happily (REALLY happily) drunk. But (this part is hazy, so forgive me if it's weird) at some point Slim, Liz, Iva and Maria left me alone inside. Like, they just told me to wait for them right there and walked outside (I couldn't follow because I still had half a glass in my hand).

So I finished the glass, left it on a counter, and walked out, some fifteen minutes later, feeling dejected and alone.

I couldn't find them,and I was so drunk that I could hardly walk straight, let alone support my own weight. So I crumbled onto a sidewalk border and just tried to reason with myself, berating myself for looking like the slobs I always figured I'd never, EVER be.

I don't know how much time passed, but at some point Liz ran towards me. At some point I'd started tearing (yeah, I don't even know why), and she saw me, and when I saw Slim sprint towards me and reach out both hands to grab mine, I don't know. I started sobbing. I mean, seriously. This guy was SPRINTING TOWARDS ME because he was worried.

So I freak out.

And I mean, I really freaked out. Like, intensely. I had no spine left, I was rolling on the ground, crying and having trouble to breathe.

Lyx: Yeowch.

Liz was unable to do anything, I think, because one minute she was there, and the next she was gone, and in her place was Slim's lap.

So I tried not to fall face forward into that.

But he was so sweet, Lyx, I feel even more horrible. He was soothing, telling me it was okay, and holding my shoulders as I freaked out ("What's going on with me? What's wrong with me??"). He even took out his cell phone and put on my favourite song to make me smile.

Lyx: (He's a better friend than me; I probably would have just slapped you and told you to snap out of it.)

(I would have deserved it. I'm not done telling you about his kindness, so brace yourself.)

I was so touched that I stopped sobbing and just began to cry softly. But I wasn't as scared anymore. It was like I was fighting a bad trip. He let me cry against his shoulder for a while, then said, firmly, "We're going for a walk."

I couldn't stand. He pulled me to my feet and held my hand and shoulder as we walked. I was apologizing the whole time. I said, "I'm SO SORRY Slim EVERYTIME I ruin your evenings! I'm so sorry!!"

And instead of saying, "Whatever" or "I'm getting used to it," as he should have, he said, "I don't mind, CM. Just keep walking. Breathe in. Stop crying. What would Bertrand say?"

Bertrand is our Staples manager.

Which, of course, made me laugh.

I said, "But you always end up taking care of me! That sucks! I'm sorry I swear to god I didn't mean to!"

And he said, "It's alright. I have a hero complex. I not only need to, but I also ENJOY helping damsels in distress. Here, sit."

He made me lean against a cement block, and held me upstraight because I kept crumbling under my own weight.

"No, CM, no falling. You are not allowed to let go of me, okay? You MUST HOLD ON TO ME AT ALL TIMES."

I pulled him forward and said, "Slim, why are you doing this?"

By now he was smiling. "What? Helping you? I'm a good friend. It's what I do."

"But you don't have to. I don't deserve it. When have I helped you this way?"

He didn't reply to that. He just said, "I have No More Heroes songs on my cell! Wanna hear it?"

I said, "I love you."

He didn't reply. I don't know if he heard me. I didn't say it very loud.

Lyx: Wait. Back up. Did you say it in such a way that it could be interpreted to be of different meanings?

No.

Lyx: Were you like, "I love you, man" or was it like "I loveith thou"

I said, clearly, "I love you."

Or it was clear to me. But I was so drunk, I don't think he heard me. Except... he's said "I love you" to me a couple of times now. Always in teasing contexts, like, when he insults me and I glare at him, he blows a kiss and says, 'I love you' fondly. So I don't know. Maybe he didn't get it.

I wanted to scream it, but I felt so sick and weak that I couldn't.

So I choked back this frustration that just swelled in me and walked away, towards the park where we always hang out.

He said, "Where are you going? Don't leave. You're in no state to walk."

I wanted to go into the park, but he pulled me back and said, "No park tonight, CM. It's WAY too wet. It just rained."

I was crying again. I pulled away and said, "I thought you were supposed to meet Anthony for food."

He frowned and said, "So?"

"So, shouldn't you get going?"

"And leave you here? Are you stupid?"

"I'm fine."

"Like hell."

"I'm okay, Slim. Please, I've already ruined your night enough, you don't have to stay."

He said, "I'm not going anywhere."

"But Anthony's waiting for--"

"FUCK ANTHONY, dammit!"

I refused to look at him. I just wandered towards the bleachers. He followed me. I said, "This is unfair."

He asked, "What's unfair?"

"That you're so kind to me. For no reason."

"I'm not that nice. I'm just being a good person."

"You don't realise, do you?"

"What?"

"How amazing you are. How much you deserve. I've never met a man as wonderful as you."

Lyx: And?

A long silence, I think, then I said, "I always wonder if I'm going to be one of those people who look back on things and say, 'I should've' instead of 'I shouldn't have'.

He asked me what I meant.

I said, "I'm afraid of regrets."

"What kind?"

"Not telling someone that I love him."

"You're in love?"

I laughed. "Yes, I am."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"I don't know. You never told me anything before."

I looked at him and leaned in. He was sitting on the bleacher under mine and leaning against mine with his face turned up to me and looking so wonderful. I leaned in, and looked him in the eyes. It's one of the only things I remember clearly.

I don't know if we said anything, but I knew, in my gut, that I wouldn't be able to do it.

Lyx: Guh!

And not because it would have felt wrong, or anything, but I was so drunk that he would either laugh it off or I'd barf in his mouth or something.

Basically, he took care of me and the next morning, he told me that I should not feel bad about the way I was the night before, that if it was so important to me, he'd say he forgives me, even though there's nothing to forgive and that he wanted me to laugh about it, not feel ashamed.

And now I'm just depressed about my lack of gut, and my stupid drunkeness. Never again. EVER.

Because I have weird bruises on my knees now from last Friday that I DO NOT RECALL GETTING.

Except, of course, that I woke up on Monday morning with the unexpected distinct memory of having a HUGE CLOSE-UP of Slim's boxers. The ones with the adjectives... That he was, I believe, wearing Friday night.

I know. Weird bruises on my knees? A surprisingly vivid image of Slim's jeans-less crotch? Yeah, I was kind of freaking out.

I asked him, "Slim."

He looked up from the camera we were practicing on with Gabriel, Jeremy and Patricia (the latter two are our movie-making teammates this session, and they're really cool), and asked, deadpan, "What."

"I had this horrible recollection."

"Be specific."

"Friday night."

Here, Gabriel perks up. He works at Moe's and heard plenty of hilarious stories about Friday. Like how Maria got driven home by one of the doormen, and how AA barfed in the parking lot, and how Ban woke up in the bed of a girl he didn't know at all (she'd taken pity on him the night before because he didn't have a way home, but nothing happened).

"What about it?"

"Do you, um... remember anything?"

"Yeah. But it's hazy. I was so drunk."

"And you drove anyway." This time, I'm deadpan.

"Yeah, whatever, I was sober by then. What do you want to know?"

"I had this sort of memory of being on my knees in the grass behind Moe's and you coming up to me without pants."

At this, Jeremy and Patricia pause, turning to look at my scared face and Slim's impassive one.

"Yeah, when I went for a whizz," Slim says. "I dunno. I was so drunk I thought it'd be funny after that if I walked around with my jeans around my ankles. And then I came up to you and gloated."

"Did I grab your foot?"

"Yeah, weirdo. Of all places for you to put your hands when a guy comes up to you with his junk hanging out."

I freak out. "YOU HAD YOUR DICK IN MY FACE?"

Here, Slim bursts out laughing. "NO! Hahahahaha gotcha. Come on, I have more taste than that. But yeah, you commented on my boxers―"

"The adjectives."

"The adjectives, yeah."

"I think you said something about me knowing too much of your underwear."

"I might've. I was drunk too, but I handle my alcohol better than you."

Sad but true.

I'll spare you the details of my week, but in all, I haven't slept a full night since Sunday night. I wake up at 6:45AM, arrive downtown at 8:30AM and leave it at 10:00PM at night, reaching home at 11:15PM. During the whole time, I'm either in class or filming. And sometimes I even skip meals, I'm so busy.

Slim, Gabriel and I are so exhausted that our nerves are weakening and making us far more irritable than usual. Slim, in particular, has taken these past two days to saying rather hurtful things to me, to the point where, last night (Tuesday), I had to retreat into the side-room to calm my nerves and steady my anger and hurt before going back to filming.

I haven't forgiven him for it yet. I'd been teasing him, as usual, and he replied with his usual insult, to which I tisked and said, "You shouldn't talk like that to your best friend."

He snorted. "That's pure chance, you know. You're only my best friend because Dague isn't around as much as you. If he were there, I'm sorry, but..."

The stab was unexpected. I covered it up hastily by saying, "Bah, you don't deserve me."

And he looked up from Jeremy's plans, at me, with a smirk and said, "That's not what you were saying Friday night."

In a flash, I recall my panic attack, my crying like a baby and repeating 'I don't deserve a friend like you! I don't deserve to be treated so kindly by you.'

I was so shocked and hurt by the memory he ridiculed by that statement, that cruel way of humiliating me, I actually felt as though he'd punched the air out of my lungs. I glared at him and said, coldly, "That was out of line." He laughed, not realising that I was serious. I stared at him some more and added, "Slim, that was―"

"I owned you."

"You know what, fuck you."

"Are you leaving? Have a nice evening!"

I was actually walking out the door. "I am not talking to you anymore. That was exceptionally cruel, even for you."

"Okay, good. See ya."

I want to reply, but he's still laughing. I leave the room and try to take calming breaths. My eyes are stinging. My heart is beating miles an hour. I'm flushed with rage and hurt.

I haven't forgotten. Today, he still wasn't relenting. I refused to speak to him for an hour, after which Gabriel took care of making us speak, although I refused to talk anything but business with him, until ten PM rolled around and we were done gathering the equipment.

We were arguing again, and he was going to win until I said, "You know, you really did hurt me last night."

"What? What did I say?"

"About―"

"Oh, damn, about Dague? Hahaha that was a good one."

I'm serious. "I don't mind exchanging insults, Slim, but that one actually stung. You really hurt me yesterday."

"You know it was just an insult like all the others."

"No, it wasn't. I don't care, I was hurt. Don't ever say things like that again. You attacked something that means too much to me. To use that weakness is not fair. It's cruel."

He stopped insulting me from that moment on.

We'll see if he remembers, for tomorrow, and Friday... and Saturday and Sunday when the filming continues.

Love,
CM

P.S. Have received awards for UFOs! Will upload them when sleep doesn't evade me. Will also remember to post one last fanfiction oneshot as thanks for your votes.