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The following is a flashback set before the current skip
a @metanoia & @smarty0114 collab
Location: 155 Cafe
“What the fuck is with that thing anyways? Is that like, real? Like do people actually care about what we do?”
Andre found himself smiling, looking up at Charlie after a moment of glancing down as he set his backpack on the floor. It was leaning against his ankle. As he was looking at Charlie, he remembered he saw that the person responsible, this Miss Fortune, which Andre doubted was her actual name, he was still pretty irate that everyone on that board was given a single label. He couldn’t free himself of this anger because he really hated that, probably more than he was about being labled The Sloth.
“I would say no, but this -- what she call herself? Miss Fortune?” He laughed in a low tone, “I guess they -- I’m using the royal ‘They’, by the way -- think we’re all so fascinating that we, apparently, are so interesting. I mean, I’m not saying we are boring but I don’t think we’ve done anything to be the focus of someone’s little J. Jonah Jameson ripoff of trying to make us look like bad people or something.” He allowed himself to take in a breath. “Like how does me being me deserve to be labeled a Sloth? I mean with my roommate, it’s difficult to get any sleep anyways.”
Charlie let out a sigh, and shook her head. “I’d rather be the Sloth than the Brat.” The unflattering nickname was still chief amongst Charlie’s thoughts, but it did bring her some comfort to hear Andre bemoan his own label. It was a small, but much needed, reminder that this was not normal. This was some fucked up game, and she didn’t have to play if she didn’t want to. “Hey, maybe if you fix my hunk of junk laptop, I can get her to give you a new one?” Charlie said, lips curling up into a smile.
Without another word, she leaned over and pulled out her relic of a laptop, a thick gray brick that could’ve passed as an antique from the Apollo missions, and set it on the table, sliding it over towards Andre. The beast, which Charlie had affectionately named Bertha, had been with her through most of her education, and despite many close calls, always seemed to come back from the edge of certain death. “Soooo, I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s decided that she no longer wants to turn on, and I really need her to turn on so, please Doctor, save her for me?”
Andre smiled, laughing at her last comment as he took Charlie’s computer. “I doubt one simple act will change her mind, but let me see, anyway.” He set it to his left, opening it up. As he tried to boot it up, what she said rang true. He couldn’t even get it to boot up after he tried a few tricks. After about a minute of trying most of the immediate solutions he thought would work, he turned to Charlie. “Any chance you spilled any liquid on it? Because unless some liquid of some kind got into the motherboard, we’re probably looking at an internal power issue. In that case, I could try and work on it today, but I don’t know..” He looked down at the laptop, something of a frown on his face.
Charlie winced. “There may have possibly been an accident of sorts… wherein some chicken flavored ramen water found it’s way into Bertha’s vicinity. So, yeah, what I’m saying is that there’s a chance.” That one had admittedly been Charlie’s fault, but hey, a girl can’t help being uncoordinated. Clumsiness was a curse from which she would never be freed. “Is that bad? I feel like the look you’re giving me means that’s bad?”
“Well, it is bad, but for more than just the fact you spilled something on it. That itself will take some time trying to repair. But..” He paused dramatically (unintentionally, of course), looking at Charlie, hiding a smile behind a neutral expression. “How are you going to choose chicken over beef? Everyone knows beef is the superior flavor!”
“You’re wrong, but it’s really cute that you think you’re right,” Charlie said. “Chicken ramen is king. Trust me, Rich Boy, I think I know my ramen,” Charlie grinned, a devilish sort of smile that implied her new nickname was not completely undeserved.
And there it was. Andre was kind of surprised that it took her this long to mention, in some way, that he had that famous name. Though, he was a bit insulted that she used it as a front to claim he didn’t ride the struggle bus, too. “And I don’t?” He gave her a half-smile. “Sure, I may have grown up rich, but what I’m doing for you and your probably busted laptop -- no offense -- is my only source of income. And I know for a fact that beef is the god of the instant ramen flavors. So, clearly you’ve been misinformed. Might want to tell your stomach that.” If he were texting, this would be the part where he’d send a tongue-face emoji, but alas it would be weird if he did that in public.
Charlie bit back a retort she might’ve levied against someone with far fewer good intentions. Andre meant well, and she didn’t really know him well enough to lump him in with all the other spoiled rich kids who felt so hellbent on reminding her of her circumstances. Still though, she suspected that no matter what he said, his family wasn't about to leave him high and dry. Even if they were, she’d met people worse off. People whose family’s had nothing to withhold from them in the first place. “Oh I was just teasing. At least about the Rich Boy thing. I’m still right about the ramen.”
Andre was trying to learn how to not take it personally whenever someone mentioned his family’s wealth, especially when people who were his friends mentioned it. He knew it was all in good fun. Some part of him knew that it wasn’t meant ot be taken personally, yet sometimes he just can’t help it. Maybe it’s because he’s trying to prove them wrong. Maybe that’s why he opted to not use a single dime his folks put into his school account. He knew his mother didn’t want him to struggle financially, but he refused it. It’s why he set up a secondary account that had the earnings he made from fixing computers and tutoring.
But he had to stop thinking about that. And as he did, he looked at Charlie for a second, Andre just smiled. “Agree to disagree, Charlie. And don’t think I won’t fight you on it. Unlike your preference of ramen flavors, I’m no chicken.” He tried to tease back. Andre wasn’t the best at it, but he was getting there.
Charlie laughed. “Don’t ever change, Mossos.” She let out a final breath as her laughter slowed to a stop. “So I can pa-” Her next words were cut off by the sound of a voice, suddenly raising a few octaves. She turned, searching for the source of the sound, and found the male half of the Callaghan twins venturing into screaming territory with Kat. Charlie liked to think of herself as averse to gossip and scandal, and yet, the exchange managed to hold her attention. When Jamie finally let it drop (what it was didn’t seem obvious to her) she turned back to Dre, eyebrows raised. “Trust fund doesn’t cover therapy I guess.”
For a moment, Andre was confused. That was, however, he followed where Charlie’s gaze had been. That and his ears heard some bits and pieces. He couldn’t make it out completely, but seeing one of the Callahan siblings and Kat raising their voices made him feel immensely uncomfortable. He tried to hide as much of it as he could from Charlie, but with how she was centering her gaze on him, that was proving difficult to do. It just brought Andre back to when his own siblings would fight. Whether it was petty squabbles between Ariana and Ella or more intense ones between Dante and Romeo or even bigger screaming matches between his mother and Xander, it was really triggering for him and it showed on his face. Kat, of course, wasn’t Jaime’s sibling, but just the fact they were raising their voices was enough to bring him back to that.
“Yeah…” He mouthed in a barely-audible tone. He looked away from them and even partially away from Charlie.
If Charlie wanted to say more, she was cut off by the neverending flow of time. Her eyes caught on the luminous screen of her phone, and an expletive slipped out under her breath. “I have a class to get to, but uh, I’ll check in afterwards, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, Charlie hopped up, grabbing her bag and playfully mussing up Andre’s hair, before jetting out through the cafe doors.
Andre found himself smiling, looking up at Charlie after a moment of glancing down as he set his backpack on the floor. It was leaning against his ankle. As he was looking at Charlie, he remembered he saw that the person responsible, this Miss Fortune, which Andre doubted was her actual name, he was still pretty irate that everyone on that board was given a single label. He couldn’t free himself of this anger because he really hated that, probably more than he was about being labled The Sloth.
“I would say no, but this -- what she call herself? Miss Fortune?” He laughed in a low tone, “I guess they -- I’m using the royal ‘They’, by the way -- think we’re all so fascinating that we, apparently, are so interesting. I mean, I’m not saying we are boring but I don’t think we’ve done anything to be the focus of someone’s little J. Jonah Jameson ripoff of trying to make us look like bad people or something.” He allowed himself to take in a breath. “Like how does me being me deserve to be labeled a Sloth? I mean with my roommate, it’s difficult to get any sleep anyways.”
Charlie let out a sigh, and shook her head. “I’d rather be the Sloth than the Brat.” The unflattering nickname was still chief amongst Charlie’s thoughts, but it did bring her some comfort to hear Andre bemoan his own label. It was a small, but much needed, reminder that this was not normal. This was some fucked up game, and she didn’t have to play if she didn’t want to. “Hey, maybe if you fix my hunk of junk laptop, I can get her to give you a new one?” Charlie said, lips curling up into a smile.
Without another word, she leaned over and pulled out her relic of a laptop, a thick gray brick that could’ve passed as an antique from the Apollo missions, and set it on the table, sliding it over towards Andre. The beast, which Charlie had affectionately named Bertha, had been with her through most of her education, and despite many close calls, always seemed to come back from the edge of certain death. “Soooo, I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s decided that she no longer wants to turn on, and I really need her to turn on so, please Doctor, save her for me?”
Andre smiled, laughing at her last comment as he took Charlie’s computer. “I doubt one simple act will change her mind, but let me see, anyway.” He set it to his left, opening it up. As he tried to boot it up, what she said rang true. He couldn’t even get it to boot up after he tried a few tricks. After about a minute of trying most of the immediate solutions he thought would work, he turned to Charlie. “Any chance you spilled any liquid on it? Because unless some liquid of some kind got into the motherboard, we’re probably looking at an internal power issue. In that case, I could try and work on it today, but I don’t know..” He looked down at the laptop, something of a frown on his face.
Charlie winced. “There may have possibly been an accident of sorts… wherein some chicken flavored ramen water found it’s way into Bertha’s vicinity. So, yeah, what I’m saying is that there’s a chance.” That one had admittedly been Charlie’s fault, but hey, a girl can’t help being uncoordinated. Clumsiness was a curse from which she would never be freed. “Is that bad? I feel like the look you’re giving me means that’s bad?”
“Well, it is bad, but for more than just the fact you spilled something on it. That itself will take some time trying to repair. But..” He paused dramatically (unintentionally, of course), looking at Charlie, hiding a smile behind a neutral expression. “How are you going to choose chicken over beef? Everyone knows beef is the superior flavor!”
“You’re wrong, but it’s really cute that you think you’re right,” Charlie said. “Chicken ramen is king. Trust me, Rich Boy, I think I know my ramen,” Charlie grinned, a devilish sort of smile that implied her new nickname was not completely undeserved.
And there it was. Andre was kind of surprised that it took her this long to mention, in some way, that he had that famous name. Though, he was a bit insulted that she used it as a front to claim he didn’t ride the struggle bus, too. “And I don’t?” He gave her a half-smile. “Sure, I may have grown up rich, but what I’m doing for you and your probably busted laptop -- no offense -- is my only source of income. And I know for a fact that beef is the god of the instant ramen flavors. So, clearly you’ve been misinformed. Might want to tell your stomach that.” If he were texting, this would be the part where he’d send a tongue-face emoji, but alas it would be weird if he did that in public.
Charlie bit back a retort she might’ve levied against someone with far fewer good intentions. Andre meant well, and she didn’t really know him well enough to lump him in with all the other spoiled rich kids who felt so hellbent on reminding her of her circumstances. Still though, she suspected that no matter what he said, his family wasn't about to leave him high and dry. Even if they were, she’d met people worse off. People whose family’s had nothing to withhold from them in the first place. “Oh I was just teasing. At least about the Rich Boy thing. I’m still right about the ramen.”
Andre was trying to learn how to not take it personally whenever someone mentioned his family’s wealth, especially when people who were his friends mentioned it. He knew it was all in good fun. Some part of him knew that it wasn’t meant ot be taken personally, yet sometimes he just can’t help it. Maybe it’s because he’s trying to prove them wrong. Maybe that’s why he opted to not use a single dime his folks put into his school account. He knew his mother didn’t want him to struggle financially, but he refused it. It’s why he set up a secondary account that had the earnings he made from fixing computers and tutoring.
But he had to stop thinking about that. And as he did, he looked at Charlie for a second, Andre just smiled. “Agree to disagree, Charlie. And don’t think I won’t fight you on it. Unlike your preference of ramen flavors, I’m no chicken.” He tried to tease back. Andre wasn’t the best at it, but he was getting there.
Charlie laughed. “Don’t ever change, Mossos.” She let out a final breath as her laughter slowed to a stop. “So I can pa-” Her next words were cut off by the sound of a voice, suddenly raising a few octaves. She turned, searching for the source of the sound, and found the male half of the Callaghan twins venturing into screaming territory with Kat. Charlie liked to think of herself as averse to gossip and scandal, and yet, the exchange managed to hold her attention. When Jamie finally let it drop (what it was didn’t seem obvious to her) she turned back to Dre, eyebrows raised. “Trust fund doesn’t cover therapy I guess.”
For a moment, Andre was confused. That was, however, he followed where Charlie’s gaze had been. That and his ears heard some bits and pieces. He couldn’t make it out completely, but seeing one of the Callahan siblings and Kat raising their voices made him feel immensely uncomfortable. He tried to hide as much of it as he could from Charlie, but with how she was centering her gaze on him, that was proving difficult to do. It just brought Andre back to when his own siblings would fight. Whether it was petty squabbles between Ariana and Ella or more intense ones between Dante and Romeo or even bigger screaming matches between his mother and Xander, it was really triggering for him and it showed on his face. Kat, of course, wasn’t Jaime’s sibling, but just the fact they were raising their voices was enough to bring him back to that.
“Yeah…” He mouthed in a barely-audible tone. He looked away from them and even partially away from Charlie.
If Charlie wanted to say more, she was cut off by the neverending flow of time. Her eyes caught on the luminous screen of her phone, and an expletive slipped out under her breath. “I have a class to get to, but uh, I’ll check in afterwards, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, Charlie hopped up, grabbing her bag and playfully mussing up Andre’s hair, before jetting out through the cafe doors.
