Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he's not the one who gets to decide what fucked up is. But maybe neither is Johnny. Because with Tim, it's not just Tim. It's everyone. It's whoever he touches, whoever he talks to, whoever he interacts with, and he's just the virus and everyone gets exposed.
Selfish of him. Selfish of him to think he could do this, start over, keep his head down. What is he doing? What made him think he could pull this off, fucking reinvent himself or whatever existential bullshit, when that thing has defined him and will always define him and will always follow him and will not stop for anything.
"Sometimes you don't go through stuff," he answers dully, with an enormous effort to drag his tone back into something level and conversationally acceptable. "Sometimes it's not done to you. Sometimes it's just that you're born with it, and you have to live with it, and it's all your fault." And it fucking sucks.
Johnny doesn't seem deterred, but Tim doesn't shift to make it easy for him. He keeps smoking and tries not to think of the dwindling medication in his hotel room.
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Selfish of him. Selfish of him to think he could do this, start over, keep his head down. What is he doing? What made him think he could pull this off, fucking reinvent himself or whatever existential bullshit, when that thing has defined him and will always define him and will always follow him and will not stop for anything.
"Sometimes you don't go through stuff," he answers dully, with an enormous effort to drag his tone back into something level and conversationally acceptable. "Sometimes it's not done to you. Sometimes it's just that you're born with it, and you have to live with it, and it's all your fault." And it fucking sucks.
Johnny doesn't seem deterred, but Tim doesn't shift to make it easy for him. He keeps smoking and tries not to think of the dwindling medication in his hotel room.