[a genuine smile. She honestly didn't think he'd come through with this. If he offers them to her, she'll gently take them.]
I really appreciate it, Han. I know it was kind of silly but...It's nice to know I can rely on you. Even if it's just for stuff like this. [look she desperately wants to believe you're not evil]
Do you know how long this is going to last? This...semester, or whatever you call it. Before, we were sent to the house after only a couple weeks. Is it going to be the same this time? Or...are we here for the foreseeable future, now?
That's a sentence I didn't want to ever have to say.
[She leans forward, putting her elbows on the desk.]
I don't know what to do with myself, Han.
Forget all of the murder and evil Oswald and whatever. This is supposed to be some kind of school for us, right? What are we actually doing? It feels like...nothing.
It's not that I want it. It's...How is what we're doing helping anyone?
If the purpose is turning us into heroes, I don't see how sitting around eating cafeteria food is accomplishing that. Unless the purpose is to turn us into master crime scene investigators.
[She frowns. Yikes. There's no way to believe him of course, but...]
...You don't need to apologize for wanting to stay alive. It doesn't make you a coward either. It's more human than anything.
I'd rather not die either. Not that...there's much I can do to prevent that, hah.
[The futility is...sad.]
Everything feels really empty. I've been doing this for months. I feel like I'm going insane, I don't know how much longer I can...[Her voice gets lower and lower until it drops off and she covers her face with her hands]
[Max tenses up momentarily when he touches her. He's still...She doesn't know how to feel about him. Not sure if she feels safe with him or not.]
It's not fine. Why is my life so fucked up? All I'm doing is trying to survive, that's all I have.
And if you want to know the truth, as hard as I'm trying to trust everyone, they scare the hell out of me. All it takes is one person to crack and then we'll all just––just––we're expendable, you know? I'm not––I'm––[okay Max's face is turning red and she's clearly flustered and upset and trying not to cry but it's SO HARD when you're eighteen and you've been away from your loved ones for months on end with no promise of surviving long enough to even get an opportunity to go back.]
I'm not special. I'm just––one of the group. If I was a casualty, it wouldn't matter. If I have to die so that someone can make a point, they're going to make their point. I'm trapped in this fucked up, twisted game, under some creepy dude's thumb. I'm a doll in a dollhouse, waiting to be thrown away or replaced.
[She's shaking and it's not because of how she might be starting to sob, and it's not because she's angry or sad or uncomfortable. It's as if all of the bottled up fear inside of this girl is coming out all at once. What all of the brave faces, smiles, and reassurance has been hiding. Two months of paranoia that every next day is her last.]
Week 2 Monday morning
Re: Week 2 Monday morning
Hey, Max! What can I do ya for?
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[Points to her eye––the one that mirror's Han's black eye.]
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No big deal.
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Ever.
[who hurt you, sweetheart]
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[he doesn't change his grin, this is better for everyone involved if it was a cabinet]
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[she runs her hand through her hair awkwardly, nervously]
Actually, I don't know. We can just drop it, I guess.
..I wanted to ask about a few things. You have time?
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Have a seat.
[he motions to the chair in front of his desk]
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I feel like I'm in the principal's office...
Anyway, you didn't happen to find any hairpins for me, did you?
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[he opens his desk drawer, and pulls out a new pack of cheap bobby pins.]
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[a genuine smile. She honestly didn't think he'd come through with this. If he offers them to her, she'll gently take them.]
I really appreciate it, Han. I know it was kind of silly but...It's nice to know I can rely on you. Even if it's just for stuff like this. [look she desperately wants to believe you're not evil]
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This is the easier stuff, right? Like I said, no problem. This is what I wish my job was.
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[She leans back, taking out a couple of the pins and pinning her bangs to the side. It's been a while since she had a hair cut.]
That's better. I was a few more questions, if that's okay.
Chief among them, how do I look?
[snerk]
Just kidding, don't answer that.
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Right, sorry, should have figured. Anyway, whatcha got for me?
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That's... probably a good guiding estimate.
[he looks a little apologetic for it.]
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That's a sentence I didn't want to ever have to say.
[She leans forward, putting her elbows on the desk.]
I don't know what to do with myself, Han.
Forget all of the murder and evil Oswald and whatever. This is supposed to be some kind of school for us, right? What are we actually doing? It feels like...nothing.
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... But you want some actual classes? I've got wasted lesson plans right now.
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If the purpose is turning us into heroes, I don't see how sitting around eating cafeteria food is accomplishing that. Unless the purpose is to turn us into master crime scene investigators.
Which I don't think you need 20 of...
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[he exhales.]
It doesn't make sense to me, either.
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Obey all orders, make a wrong move and you're punished with a depressing, mysterious death?
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[he shrugs]
And I'm a little bit of a coward-- I'd rather not die if I can help it, sorry.
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...You don't need to apologize for wanting to stay alive. It doesn't make you a coward either. It's more human than anything.
I'd rather not die either. Not that...there's much I can do to prevent that, hah.
[The futility is...sad.]
Everything feels really empty. I've been doing this for months. I feel like I'm going insane, I don't know how much longer I can...[Her voice gets lower and lower until it drops off and she covers her face with her hands]
Why am I telling you this?
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Hey, hey. It's fine. What happens in here stays in here, you know?
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It's not fine. Why is my life so fucked up? All I'm doing is trying to survive, that's all I have.
And if you want to know the truth, as hard as I'm trying to trust everyone, they scare the hell out of me. All it takes is one person to crack and then we'll all just––just––we're expendable, you know? I'm not––I'm––[okay Max's face is turning red and she's clearly flustered and upset and trying not to cry but it's SO HARD when you're eighteen and you've been away from your loved ones for months on end with no promise of surviving long enough to even get an opportunity to go back.]
I'm not special. I'm just––one of the group. If I was a casualty, it wouldn't matter. If I have to die so that someone can make a point, they're going to make their point. I'm trapped in this fucked up, twisted game, under some creepy dude's thumb. I'm a doll in a dollhouse, waiting to be thrown away or replaced.
[She's shaking and it's not because of how she might be starting to sob, and it's not because she's angry or sad or uncomfortable. It's as if all of the bottled up fear inside of this girl is coming out all at once. What all of the brave faces, smiles, and reassurance has been hiding. Two months of paranoia that every next day is her last.]
Why am I doing this? What are you doing Max!?
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