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跑步 (ᵃᵖ)
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SHOTS ( 2009 ) --- LMFAO.
He already has plans to get completely wasted, a different group of people but new faces that don’t know who Robbie is or what he’s running from will be good for him in Chester’s mind. That’s why he packed up his shit in the first place and moved to Korea. Fresh slate, no one was checking for him and his past. Clapping his hand on Robbie’s shoulder, he nods. They’re slipping back into the usual masks, something Chester is incredibly grateful for. He can’t do the whole emotionally raw and ripe style – it makes his skin crawl and his chest hurt.
“Don’t fuckin’ hate me but the place is in the opposite direction of where you were walking to, I didn’t cut into already made plans did I?” He didn’t know if Robbie was going somewhere and was late now or taking a leisure walk with nothing but time on his hands. Laughing he guides them out of the alley, “oh well, you can ask for a rain check right? Tell them something more important popped up.”
“ UH... YEAH. YEAH, I COULD do that ------ --- ’ no. he could not. he was on the clock, money was being wasted on him every second he spent dawdling outside. he gets in trouble every so often with the inspector, but he never fails to remember that he just doesn’t give a shit ! so what if he was on his way to a briefing at the local precinct ? it can’t be too hard to figure out where the illegal racing is ; and if anything else, robbie still has his old contacts. he doesn’t need any pigs telling him what to do ---- even though that’s what he’s apparently resigned himself to, at least until he commutes out his possible sentence.
but this is the new leaf he wanted. it’s not the escapism he deluded himself with ; he’s still got his past, but he’s dealing ( rather poorly ) with it instead of pretending it’s some rotting mass behind him. he wants to promise himself that he won’t get so hammered that he’ll end up doing something stupid, but if he was being honest with himself, he’s going to get shitfaced drunk, and it’s going to be GLORIOUS. ‘ nah, man. lead the way. this is more your turf than mine. ’
#caackles#( v1 interceptor. secret agent man. )#( i got a b- in the class which is#not. bad?#alSO THIS IS V LATE TOO IM SORRY )
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DRINKING SOLO.
What is Chester supposed to do? Robbie just had some type of psychotic break of some sort, brought on by Chester’s words? He isn’t sure but all he can do – something he’d wish someone would do if the shoe was on the other foot: console him. He sniffs as he takes a step back once Robbie detaches himself. Wincing at the sounds of the slaps, a feeble hand reaches out to stop him but doesn’t follow through. Man… there is a lot to Robbie that Chester didn’t know. He feels bad for only thinking of the man’s opulence, his cars. He’s got emotions, he’s got nerves and thoughts just like the rest of the world. Chester included.
Crouching down to wipe at his shoes, he snorts. “No one does, really,” he agrees in a murmur after standing back up. “Wanna do a couple lines too? Wait –” they just reunited, usually festive things call for champagne, not an 8 ball with some percocet to slow the whole thing down. Plus Chester didn’t think Robbie did that kind of stuff anyways. “A drink is perfect though, c’mon, I know a place that’s heavy handed with the bottles.”
THAT’S THE THING HE LIKES about this kid. they’re both so similar ----- one moment, he can be having this disgustingly embarrassing cry-fest, && the next they’ll be making plans to hit up a bar together. it’s all that bottling up, he tells ya. they both know it too well, && so it’s easy for them to pretend whatever just happened didn’t occur at all. he finds himself being like how he was before with chester ; is it, then, a testament as to his actual persona? surely, fala kept him subdued, but perhaps the distinct lack of braggadocio truly indicative of robbie’s most natural self. he blanches at the mention of cocain ----- ONCE at the age of fourteen was good enough for him ----- but allows an easy smile to tentatively stretch across his lips.
“ good. i was thinkin’ you did, ’ he chuckles. there’s no better way to get back into the game than getting drunk, after all. there’s a high chance that he’ll end up doing something that he’ll regret, but that’s the story of his life, anyways. he’ll deal with it once it reaches lin’s far-reaching ears. ‘ lead the way. ’
#caackles#( this could lead into the fuckboy plot if u want lol ?? )#( v1 interceptor. secret agent man. )
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THE FAKEST SIGNS IN ORDER
1. Libra (Everyone has different versions of the same person)
2. Pisces (Anything living in fantasy more than reality is usually not true to self, let alone others)
3. Gemini (They know they’re fake & they don’t care…gotta love em!)
4. Leo (Everything is about an “image”)
5. Scorpio (No one ever truly gets to know them…and that’s the way they want it. Fake people usually have that mentality)
6. Aries (It’s hard for them to be true to & honest with someone (everyone!)they feel superior to)
7. Capricorn (They’re masters at smiling in your face even if they hate you)
8. Sagittarius (They’ll tell you what you wanna hear…flat out)
9. Virgo (When they’re done criticizing everyone, they’re actually not that bad)
10. Aquarius (Won’t give 2 shxts about you but yet will convince you that they do)
11. Cancer (Everything is about an “image”)
12. Taurus (If they’re fake, it’s on accident)
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rules: Take this TEST for your muse and post the results
REPOST. DON’T REBLOG.
Warmth 46%
Intellect 30%
Emotional Stability 34%
Aggressiveness 42%
Liveliness 90%
Dutifulness 14%
Social Assertiveness 38%
Sensitivity 54%
Paranoia 62%
Abstractness 46%
Introversion 70%
Anxiety 46%
Openmindedness 34%
Independence 78%
Perfectionism 38%
Tension 50%
❥ Tagged by: @caackles
❥ Tagging: whoever wants to bc i just woke up and im too lazy to tag
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petrichor • do not edit
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I EXIST.
WITH ( OR ) WITHOUT
YOUR PERMISSION
— I EXIST.
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The ‘I notice everything. I just act like I dont’ squad
Pisces, GEMINI, Scorpio, Capricorn, Virgo, Cancer, Libra, Leo
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TISSUES.
Well… shit. Maybe Chester is the pin and Robbie is the bubble because he didn’t expect to see the man so broken. Chester and crying is a complicated relationship. SMA Ryu always told him as a little boy to stop blubbering. ‘You can cloud but, you can’t rain,’ his father said void of compassion after disciplining his only son. Chester wasn’t allowed to cry, not when he got spankings or when he scrapped his knee. As he got older, it was just something permanent.
All his sadness and frustration and no outlet for it resulted in shoe scuffs on the walls from kicking. Two year old pain killer prescriptions being stolen from medicine cabinets. It was self-deprecating jokes, laugh at his misfortune with him, don’t try and find a solution. And if it wasn’t his father, Tanner’s father spewing all this ‘man up nonsense’ into his ear it was the white kids he went to school with. Not fitting the mold of their idea of what a kid like him looks like, Chester’s only way of surviving was not being a ‘punk ass bitch’ since he wasn’t academically gifted. Don’t let them see you weak, perpetuate the idea that you’re better than everyone else, that you don’t care when you care more than you could ever let out. It was pranking, it was making everyone else laugh at the kid with the lisp so they wouldn’t laugh at Chester for failing algebra one, it was showing off all the material things he had from spending his parents hard earned money.
After a while, Chester didn’t need his wit, he got taller and broad, the white girls noticed that – inexplicably confused. ‘You’re kinda cute for an Asian guy.’ Everything he learned about being cool he learned watching BET because none of the Asian guys on TV he could relate to – PROBABLY because they were virtually nonexistent. This isn’t the first time he’s made a guy a cry but it’s been so long he can’t remember or understand why he went out of his way to be cruel at times in the past. Chester doesn’t even recognize Robbie at his point, glancing out of the alleyway, people walking past completely oblivious to this man’s breakdown. “Rob, dude – “ what the fuck is Chester supposed to do now? He started this mess, he has to clean it up. “It’s fine man, I promise –” he can’t let his brother go out like this, he’s got too much heart for Chester to watch him break. Biting his tongue, his own face feeling warm, all clouds - no rain, Chester puts his hand on Robbie’s shoulder, pulling the older guy into a hold, not a hug. He feels so awkward but he doesn’t know what else to do, his own emotions unpredictable.
“ FUCK. ’ A STRING OF EXPLETIVES follows, muffled into the other’s shirt as he lets himself just sit there in a not-quite hug. no doubt the other wants nothing to do with him now. nobody’s ever seen him at his worst ---- is robbie himself even aware that he’s hit rock bottom? ---- so it’s not like he knows what to expect. but no, he can’t think this way. chester just told him he cared, right? he didn’t make that part up. that was real. it was fucking real, and there’s somebody in the world who would actually care if robbie lam dropped dead. well. maybe kyle would care. fala might look for him. but god damn it if CHESTER RYU hasn’t torn him to fucking pieces. he’s in tatters in the boy’s hands. they’re a hard cocoon as he struggles to put himself back together. it’s hard to slip the mask back on when it’s in a thousand tiny shards on the floor, but he tries. it’s all he can do.
robbie sobers as best he can. he smothers the hiccups to the best of his ability, wiping his nose on his sleeve ( gross! ). this has to stop ; he has to get a fuckin’ grip and move the fuck on. he slaps his own face, more to bring him back down to earth than any actual self-harm. they’re pretty hard slaps, too, the noise echoing through the relatively empty alleyway. he’s sure if anyone tried to peek in, they’d get the wrong idea. so he quickly parts himself from the other, stepping back in almost a rough, jerky manner.
he’s still discombobulated. he clears his throat, an awkward noise for an awkward situation. his eyes are probably red-ringed and he more than likely looks like shit. oh well. there’s no take-backsies, but it’s not like he can’t pretend that none of this happened. it did. now he just has to ignore it. “ i should’ve said something, ’ he admits eventually. he twists his lips, a grotesque half-smile. ‘ i didn’t really think any of this shit through, to be honest i don’t ever think anything through. ... do you wanna hit up a bar and catch up? its five o’clock somewhere, right? ’ this is a hard left. but he needs his throat to burn for a reason other than sobbing his eyes out.
#( pain = development )#( according to kris anyway lm a O )#( v1 interceptor. secret agent man. )#caackles
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AAARGH.
Unrelated, it feels good to let out some of the wound up energy he had. Lately, Chester hasn’t been processing his emotions well, using Janessa as an excuse to dip back into bad habits. He doesn’t like to solve his issues, he likes to pretend they don’t exist and then shit like this happens: never in Chester’s life did he think he would reach the tipping point - and for Robbie to be the pin to pop the bubble is still very surreal. Chester wants to physically hurt Robbie and that alone makes him stop shoving him. Putting his fist on Robbie’s chest his face scrunches up. “Fucking hell…” He feels like shit, he feels like shit for his friend. Divorce and potential jail time isn’t fun for anyone – it would have been the perfect excuse for Robbie to call up his trusty bro and shoot the shit. They could be single and awful together instead of Chester turning up to galas in a monkey suit expecting to see the untouchable couple together. Chester could care less about anything Samsung has to say, he has an iPhone, dammit. It only took two times for him to realize The Only Lam That Matters to him wasn’t showing. Not one for gossip he had zero idea the hell his friend was going through. “Fucking…” it’s the only word that’s clear in his head. Heaving, he can feel Robbie’s heart beat through layers of clothes. The beatbeatbeatbeat reminds Chester that this guy, this human – this man is alive and in front of him and that’s all that should matter. Everyone screws up one in a while in their lives. Voice dropping down from it’s passionate tone, Chester is tired, “I give a damn,” he mutters. He gently ( it’s almost affectionate ) bumps his fist against Robbie’s chest before standing back. Clearing his throat he looks everywhere but at him. “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be standing right here, trying to figure out what the hell happened.”
AND THERE IT IS ------- the last drop of water that’s just too much for the surface area of the glass ( && he’s got quite a bit of surface area ). it all spills over ; his lower lip starts trembling no matter how much he gnaws on it to cease the action. his large hand folds over his eyes, clamping around his optics as moisture drips freely. within minutes he’s going to be producing a metric-fuckton of snot, && it’s this reason ( besides the toxic masculinity ) that reminds him why he never, ever cries. lam longwei cries like a little fucking baby, shoulders twitching with each hiccup, his breath coming in short gasps. he makes pitiful noises deep in his throat, reminiscent of a whine that would tug on anyone’s heartstrings.
jesus christ, how long has he been waiting for someone to say those words? those forlorn glances at fala, wishing maybe she’d say something, because it really looked like she was trying to be there for him ---- only for her to say, ‘ it doesn’t matter. i don’t care. do what you want. ’ && how fucking amazing it is for it to be CHESTER, who finally tells him that he matters to someone.
he feels like a little bitch ; there’s no other way to put it. he hates that he’s letting the other see him like this, so weak, so pathetic. his father would probably hit him again if he saw this, his brothers scoffing as they turned their backs. it’s only fair. he turned his backs on them. but perhaps ... perhaps just once, he’d like someone to stay. even if it’s a painful sight to watch, at least it meant someone cared. ‘ i ----- i’m sorry, ’ the man ( boy ) bawls, curling in on himself. ‘ i’m fucking sorry, I’M SO SORRY. ’
#( *jeongguk voice* BROTHER LETS CRY ; CRY )#( v1 interceptor. secret agent man. )#caackles#( WELP I GUESS I CAN CROSS OUT THE LAST BULLET ON THE PLOT CALL#SOMEONE FINALLY PUT BOBBY ROBERTSON IN HIS PLACE )
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ASS-KICKER.
The fuck? Chester squints, not entirely sure if he’s going to take Rob’s words as true. Not that he can really understand what the older male is saying. “Speak the fuck up, Rob, I can’t hear you. You got to prison or something? Did you get caught for a hit and run?” Chester knows whatever it is that caused Robbie to vanish was probably car related, it only took one race in that Mercedes for Chester to know that it was some serious shit his friend was into. The vibe of the other guys and the overall atmosphere, it was deeper than just racing for fun so Chester kept his mouth shut on the topic after that. As someone who is admittingly shit himself with communication he doesn’t have a lot of room to be mad but gosh, Chester is straight up pissed. “Nah, don’t fuckin – “ great, he’s shoving him again. “Don’t give me that bullshit, man! Save that shit for your wife! Or did she get tired of you using your car as a fleshlight? I wouldn’t blame her, it’s all you give a damn about, isn’t it?!” Never did Chester ever think he would be in some alleyway in the cold, screaming at the man he once thought of as his cooler older brother.
HE MUST REALLY NOT be in a right state of mind, because robbie just takes it. he fucking takes it. the anger, he absorbs it, internalizes it so that he’s fucking furious too. he has NO RIGHT ----- but god, he’s spent all this time on autopilot, pretending everything was fucking fine && dandy. that he wasn’t lonely, that he doesn’t regret losing everyone who ever cared about him ( and that’s only about FOUR people, how sad && pathetic ) so that he could live some sort of witness-protection-transplant brand new lifestyle. he still had his opulence, his money, and of course, benzie && the asterion, but he wasn’t him. he was a shell. robbie lam wanted to be someone new, someone he wasn’t. and now it’s all crashing down on him. “ she fuckin’ left me, okay? is that what you wanted to hear? ’ if chester wants a raised voice, he’s gonna give him one. ‘ took half my shit in the divorce, and then some fucker ratted me out and got my ass in jail. i would’ve done five years if i hadn’t taken their deal, and by then i was done with it. with everyone i ever knew, and it isn’t like they weren’t done with me either! i don’t know what the FUCK to give a damn about because nobody’s ever given a damn about ME, okay?! ’
his chest heaves with the exertion. the last time he’s ever yelled at anyone like this was before he turned 18, when he was still an edgy kid with a lot of pent up rage. before he came home && his dad told him to bottle it up, because they didn’t need a whiny little brat to take over the company next, && he’d scare off all his marriage prospects with his attitude. before fala had driven out any sort of emotion from him, when all he ever wanted was his car && maybe ( just maybe ) some hot sex. what a fat load of shit, robbie’s indignation. he was the one who opted out of everything, who ran with his tail between his legs because --- boo hoo, he thought no one would MISS him. he feels a lump rise in his throat && he raises his fist to his mouth, biting harshly into his own flesh to push it back down.
#( robbie: *tyra voice* I HAVE NEVER IN MY LIFE YELLED AT A GIRL LIKE THIS )#( v1 interceptor. secret agent man. )#caackles
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GIGGLES.
Chester is laughing. It consumes him, cackles ripped from his gut. He bends open, grasping at his knees as he tries to catch his breath before standing up straight. He’s laughing because this is all so damn dramatic. He’s livid – don’t forget that – but the circumstances of how he has found himself at this point makes him laugh because now he really knows it’ll make an excellent bar story. Once the pain of abandonment ebbs away. “Oh, man…” he’s still chuckling, coughing into his fist, it’s dry as fuck and it hurts his chest. “Fuck you, Robbie.” He’s still laughing, “every heard of a goddamn telegram? a text message? You’re too filthy rich not to own a cellphone.” Chester is selfish and hates feeling raw so he swallows ‘what did I do wrong?’ back down opting to brush at Robbie’s shoulders as if he dirtied them or something. “I’m not your fuckin’ bitch I don’t need constant attention,” New York accent picking up with emotion. “But a smoke signal to let people know you’re alive isn’t a crime, you won’t lose cool points for being a normal human being. I promise you.”
HE’S RIGHT, FUCKING CHRIST, of course he’s right. the twenty-first century was not a time that wasn’t conducive to long-distance communication. in fact, it did everything in its power to enable it. everything was connected. there just wasn’t any excuse. fuck, he still contacted fala some times --- mostly for alimony, but she was still there. he spoke to her, and civilly too. the least he could do is talk to someone whose company he did enjoy, once upon a time. “ i used my free call to call my dad, ’ robbie mutters. it’s not exactly an attempt at humor, and it is an honest fact. ‘ and when i got out i wanted a fresh start. ’ a clean slate. it wasn’t a requirement that he cut all ties with his past life ( lin had even asked him why he did so ) and it was a benefit to still be known as robbie lam, top racer, but he wanted nothing to do with who he used to be. there was too much baggage, too much weighing him down. as he was now, nearing 30 ( jesus christ ), he was freer. better. or at least, he liked to think so. ‘ i fucked up. you don’t need to tell me. ’
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CHESTER.
If Chester could go back ten minutes ago and stop himself from getting into this situation? He would. The idea of Robbie being in the same city as him, walking the same streets? It should be a pipe dream, something concocted in his ritalin addled mind. BUT IT’S NOT. Chester wants to laugh and scream at the same time. He isn’t thinking, he doesn’t register his arms extending, palms out colliding with the broad line of Robbie’s shoulders. Chester shoves him. Again. Two, three, four times until the disbelief that keeps the tremors in his hand prevent him from doing it further. His hands would rather cover his face in shock, it fogs up his glasses, his disbelieving groan muffled. “Yeah, fuck is right.”
There’s always been this minuscule part of Chester ( ie: HUGE ) that has always known he was disposable. That there is truly nothing about him that gives anyone a true concrete reason to stick around. Tanner has no one else so he’s stuck with Chester, something Chester had come to terms with a long time ago and could live with. He hadn’t even gotten that far into knowing Robbie and the guy ghosted him faster than a catfish on Tinder. He has no reason to be upset with Robbie – he’s more so upset with himself for getting to attached. “I guess I should be glad you’re alive… But I’m not entirely sure yet.”
HE FEELS LIKE SHIT, he really does. the two of them weren’t exactly best friends --- he doesn’t really know what that’s like, to have someone that close --- but there was definitely something about chester that had made him feel more a big brother. more than the kids he’d grown up with, no matter how screwed up that really was. but in all honesty, he wasn’t at all on robbie’s mind when he was sitting in holding. his brain was running through ways to avoid consequences, ways to avoid getting reprimanded by his family. he’d gotten enough of it. his father punched him in the face when he learned that fala divorced him, and only took it back when robbie had told him she gave her shares back to him.
his throat is dry, and he doesn’t even try to stop the younger as he shoves at him. he wobbles as he steps backward from the force. what does he say? what can he say? clearly chester is hurt by robbie’s little vanishing act. they were friends. ( right? weren’t they? ) but robbie had disappeared. he remembered hating it when his ‘ racing pals ’ did the same when he was 15. he can’t believe he’s done it himself --- it’s barely hit him after all this time. “ i ... shit, what the fuck do i say? thanks? ’
#caackles#( yass all aboard the angst train i missed writing angst!!! )#( v1 interceptor. secret agent man. )
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CHESTER ( !!! ).
He has plans tonight: burgers and drinks with some friends he hasn’t seen since they were all at a graduation party – almost three years ago. He’s looking forward to it but he’s not looking forward to listening about all the talk. He keeps up: everyone is doing normal stuff with their lives. Working and careers. It doesn’t matter if he got that corporate gig because of Daddy’s string tugs. It’s still a job that pays damn well. She’s working towards her masters, doing STEM seminars for little girls, still talks to her sorority sisters. What does Chester have to contribute? Everyone knows about the most intimate parts of him without his permission and he’s still digging himself out of that box. Running away to Seoul wasn’t him avoiding his issues, it was postponing them. Maybe he will lie and say he’s been teaching English, except there are billboards with his likeness plastered on it. Being a moderately successful model in a different country isn’t a failure is it?
He should quit this game but his curiosity has always gotten him in sticky situations. Maybe they can laugh about a silly misunderstanding once he sees the man’s face. Mistaken identity when a chase ensues, something straight out of a movie. Chester turns into the alleyway.
THE INSPECTOR WOULD KILL HIM if she learned he’d picked up a few of her tricks from observation. following someone into an alleyway isn’t a coincidence ; he lashes out, a hand whipping out to grab at the stalker. leaving no room for the other to squirm, he slams them quickly against the wall. the person is TALLER than him, that’s for certain --- and a generally unfamiliar feeling to him. when he raises his eyes to glare into the face of his unwanted follower, though his brain grinds to a halt. robbie goes with the flow, lets the world take him wherever it wants to. naturally, he has no backup plan for something like this. he thought he’d left everyone behind. that he’d started a whole new chapter of his life. but it’s a small world. that fact slaps him in the face.
“ fuck, ’ is the most that he can muster, eyes widening as he drinks in chester’s frame. he’s older, and he obviously looks different. dimly, he remembers the race he’d won with chester in the passenger seat. it hasn’t even been a decade, but it still feels so long ago. ‘ what the hell do you think you’re doing ? ’
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