flyguy | [Recollé] Telenovela Ep1: Tony y Jack

"Oh, yeah. Didn't lie about any of that. Codemonkey and proud, baby."

Jack, significantly less drunk, is sprawled out on his little cot in a way that says he's really comfortable sitting in jail cells. Hell, he's probably spent a weekend or two in this exact one before. So he's got his arms folded behind his head to make up for the cardboard pillow, watching the lights flicker.

"I actually came back to town to kill myself." He says it casually - could be a ploy for attention, or pity, but this exact tone is leaning more towards a 'Night, Mother type situation. The cop on watch duty looks up, but Jack waves him off. "Slow your roll, Porky, I changed my mind. You put me on watch and I might actually do it out of boredom."

...Drunk Tony is probably not the best guy to say to this. Sober he'd have a lot to say, maybe a straight up lecture like the old days. Except sober Tony is never around anymore. Not these days. There's a pause as if he's taking that in, respecting it. And then he's throwing his hand over his eyes —and it hurts, glass in his face and all, shit— and laughing without restraint. It's genuine, unabashed. This situation could not get more insane even if aliens invaded right now.

"You turn, —what? Straight? Legit?— get a good job, probably have some kind of degree. And you come back into to town to end it all." A pause. "And crash my party."

Why was that on the list, Jack? He wants to know. Really. But aah... Hah. Haha. "They're never going to bury you next to her." He lets his hand slip to the floor with a soft smack, eyes closed behind his glasses. If he leaves a bloody streak on the floor it'll be something for the janitor to remember him by. "Won't see her headstone."

Jack's probably visited her grave before. Tony would assume so. There's something about the way he says it though. Like Jack's going to miss the ice cream truck if he passes the opportunity. ...Then again he's probably one drink away from alcohol poisoning so do you really want to listen to this hot mess Jack.

And Jack takes the laughter serenely, which is probably the clearest sign that he's serious - was serious, whatever, there's no telling with him. He just taps his fingers on his chest in an uneven staccato until Tony says that last bit.

"Yeah, probably not. Bet I get the plywood coffin in a shallow hole treatment." He sounds regretful - inasmuch as he sounds particularly anything right now, anyway, there's not a whole lot of emotion happening on his end right now. "Y'know, I was supposed to have a drink and go kiss a pistol before you decided to show up and shit all over my night, so... thanks, I guess? I dunno."

S h r u g. There's a long moment of quiet before he starts again.

"Why haven't you done it yet, anyway? Honest question. And don't gimme that duuuuh, whatcha mean Jack? treatment either, because I know a hot miserable fucking mess when I see one."

Why hasn't he done it? Ughhhh he lets his head roll to the side, cheek pressing against the cold floor as his mind drifts back twenty years.

"She said I looked like a jackass." Welp. He's remembering now though. Standing on that bridge. It was a long drop with a busy highway below. he'd brought wire cutters and cut through the fencing to prevent exactly that sort of thing idiots standing on the edge was. "Told me it was the uncoolest thing I could ever do."

A pause. "So peer pressure basically." Ayup. That's what he's going with. He raises his voice— "Which shoe do I have to give to get a drink in here? They're Salvatore Ferragamo!"

...He is really not helping his case here.

"Good to know, but I meant lately." Yep, taking that soulful confession and totally ignoring it, this is why they're not friends. Probably. Are they? Jack has no idea, because honestly, he doesn't have a whole lot of experience with having friends. "I mean, Christ, look at you. You're stone cold friggin' wasted, and not in that I'm having a good day way. People happy to be alive don't fight like that."

They don't bounce between smiling and chatting up the bartender and then have that look of rage when they beat someone up, and they don't enjoy hurting and being hurt quite that much. Jack recognizes his own desperate lashing out, but to see it in Tony? It's new.

"I wasn't kidding when I asked if you wanted to go jump off a bridge with me." A beat. "I just don't get why you don't, I guess. What's your secret, T?"

What's his secret? Jack sounds like those talk show hosts who want to know his rags to riches story. He was a man living in a rundown apartment taking care of his landlady's cat just to afford rent. Tell us Tony— how did you get from there to an acceptable member of society? He can practically hear it and takes a moment to say, "Well Joan..." in his head before he answers.

"A little sarsaparilla in the morning. Nails. In my oatmeal. Latin chanting when I take my showers. —Christ. If it was uncool when I was in highschool it won't be any cooler now that I'm in my...thirties."

Dragging himself up he crawls over to the toilet though he doesn't throw up. Just rests his head on it. Probably the most unsanitory pillow in the house, but hell if he doesn't feel like a truck hit him. Followed by several deer and a little old grandma in a Volkswagon.

"If you're looking for a reason to stay alive visit her grave when you get out of here. Or buy a burger. Buy me a burger." Actually that sounds terrible and now he really is throwing up again. Everything is awful. Jailed. Next to Jack. Drunk as a skunk. Pretty sure Coor's Light is becoming one with his face. And this isn't even his rock bottom. Ughhhhh.

Edited (Dw the fuck aren't you showing my icons for) 2017-04-17 01:12 (UTC)

Jack's quiet for a few moments after Tony finishes - well, starts, but finishes talking at least - and sits there, thoughtful. Gives Tony some time to horf his guts out before he tries to fill the silence.

"...Come with me." He sits up, looking over to Tony for the first time. "Visit her with me."

Tony looks over his shoulder in Jack's direction. Jack's clearly feeling something, but Tony— "If you're trying to have a Hallmark Channel moment you sure picked an hell of a time. Why?"

Edited 2017-04-17 01:30 (UTC)

"Because you loved her too, dumbass."

Could be Hallmark, but that's not really how either of them functions, is it? Particularly - no, especially when it comes to one another. So Jack drawls his answer like it should be obvious, sitting up entirely.

"Just - I dunno, I don't know what I want to do yet, and I'm not gonna take Angel and risk the last time she ever sees me being at her mom's grave. Just gimme some goddamn company, alright? Then we'll get burgers and I'll buy one of your dumb books."

"Ughhhhhhhhhh. Fine. Fine! Give me an hour to sober up. And my lawyer to get here." Fucking Jack. Comes back into town. Crashes his award after-after-party. Gets him thrown in jail. Now they're going out grave visiting at roughly...a glance at his fancy expensive watch— 3am. Hell by the time they get there maybe they can watch the sun rise and sing with the birds.

These had better be the best burgers he's ever damn had. They'd better do more than knock his socks off. They'd better win a Nobel Prize.

But okay grumpy, drunk Tony aside it's roughly thirty minutes before his lawyer shows up. There's some banter of which I will give you the man in the street version: "You dumbass." "Love you too mwah mwah." Anywho the door to Tony's cell is opened and he's let out. His lawyer starts to lead him away because obviously they are going to leave Jack there to rot or whatever happens to thirty something degenerates. But Tony puts an halt on the Society Loves Rich People train.

"Him too. Pay his bail."

"What? But Tony, why? He tried to kill you."

Tony looks back at Jack. Yeah. That did kind of happen. Shrugging he looks back at his lawyer. "Old business. Gotta bury the hatchet. I'll be okay. And I promise I'll call about that bodyguard. First thing on my docket in the morning. We cool?"

"...First thing."

And that's how Tony and Jack end up outside, rumpled and worse for wear. Also ig Tony still has a bloody face they should probably stop at a convenience store or something on the way lmao. Anywho. "So. What's the ride like? Another motorcycle? Car? You doing the responsible thirty-something van thing?"

Lay it on him Jack.

Edited 2017-04-17 02:40 (UTC)

"I wasn't gonna kill him!" Frank gets Jack yelling at him from his cell, leaned up against the bars. "I was just gonna choke him a little!"

Not. Helping. But Tony bails him out of trouble - probably not for the first time, either - and Jack is the one to stop in at the convenience store nearby for what he'll need to put Tony back together. He also buys a pack of smokes, because you know, possibly the last night of his entire life and all. Might as well get all his favorite vices in.

"Rented a car for the trip, but I got a bike back home." He jerks his head once they're outside, indicating for Tony to follow him. "C'mon. Memory's kinda fuzzy, you'll have to give me directions anyway."

It's not that he's never visited her grave before, just that last time he did, he was blackout drunk and woke up... at the PD, coincidentally. He leads them to a pretty little current year model, where he insists Tony sit down and let him pick the glass out of his face with tweezers. If Tony doesn't squirm, it should be a pretty quick affair; it isn't like he's never done this before, after all, and it's not like he cares about Tony's comfort too terribly much when he follows it up with a cotton ball soaked in peroxide. He himself has a split lip and the beginnings of an angry bruise building on his cheekbone, and if his nose is broken, he certainly wouldn't be surprised.

It's fun. They've had fun tonight.

"How're the folks?" Jack says casually, dabbing at a particularly nasty cut near Tony's hairline. "I remember them being total jackasses. That ever get any better or what?"

Tony does what he's told for the most part. He might be a little stumbley, but he's a trooper and keeps up with Jack regardless. As such he's pretty docile when Jack sits him down. There's a few flinches, an hiss at a particularly sharp piece of glass. But otherwise he acts good. Might be surprising. Or might not. He's had worse. Can't forget the time he did the ironing wrong. Had an aversion to irons ever since. He doesn't even like tea kettles.

The question though... Yeah, that's right. Sofia did bring Jack around a few times. To pick him up for this or that as their third wheel tagalong since his parents would have paid for a car when Hell opened a water park. Or, God, those awful double dates where she tried to hook him up with her friends, and Jack's friends. Random women they met in Starbucks or wherever bikers got their coffee. Look it's the end of my shift I can ramble if I want laughs. Anyway his face is pretty nonplussed. Kind of helps they already got all the trying to murder eachother out of the way (really helps).

"Well they tried to place an hit on me. And we're currently in court over them using my social security to embezzle a large portion of my earnings. They bought a very nice boat. First rule: no Anthonys onboard." It sounds like he's joking, but then he adds: "They had it gilded in gold plate. So... Yeah." His hands turn palm up in a semi-shrug. It is what it is. Horrible and shitty and a real fucking kick to his self-worth. But he's not going to cry about it. Just act incredibly self-destructive and try not to have a single sober moment until this whole mess is behind him. Preferrably years behind him.

"When's the last time you saw Angel?"

Edited 2017-04-17 03:52 (UTC)

"No shit?" He could sound more sympathetic, but that probably isn't what Tony wants from Jack, is it? They've never been that fake with each other, and it's not like Jack is jumping at the idea of starting now. "Pfff, gold plate. Bet it's tacky as hell."

But he knows where Tony must be right now (kind of knows?), so he gives the man a shrug of his own. He's never shared much of where he comes from - even Sofia had a hard time getting anything out of him, much less Tony hearing any of it. Feels right to share it now, though.

"Grams probably wishes I'm dead. Just like your good-for-fucking-nothing biker daddy and all. I was waiting to off myself until she died first, but at this rate that bitch'll be around when the goddamn sun dies." They're done cleaning, so now Jack moves to the gauze. It won't be a particularly pretty patch job, but hey, it'll work until he can see a real doctor. If he even bothers. "Used to beat me with a chain. A chain! Like, who even does that? I'm an asshole, buddy, but I get it honest."

So he understands the shit guardians thing, kind of. It's just idle talk to fill the silence, something to listen to while he tears another strip of medical tape off with his teeth.

"Saw her today." Should they be worried about a concussion? Probably. "Had her the whole day. Got ice cream, saw a movie, went to her favorite restaurant, all that crap. Wanted to make it a good memory." A shrug. "Pretty sure she doesn't love me anymore. Don't really blame her. Only so many times you can tell a kid I'm sorry sweetie, daddy can't make it before they get sick of hearing it, y'know?"

It's true Tony's never heard much about Jack's past. Sofia told him the odd thing or two ("No, Tony, he didn't rise from a swamp" "I'm pretty sure he's human." "For the love of God don't tell him the Sith are his spirit animal."). But it wasn't much of anything. That he's hearing it now...? He's pretty hard put not to roll his eyes. He settles for looking up at the sky and keeping still. He's not really sure where "my parents tried to have me killed" is an open invitation for swapping abuse stories like some kind of Care Bear Power Hour, but whatever. He doesn't want to get into it.

"It's called a telephone, Jack. Invented 1876. You should look into it some time." Okay, okay. Enough of this touchy-feely powwow. Waving Jack off he stands up. "If we're going to do this let's do it."

"Ya try and reach out to a guy..." Jack shakes his head, standing, and clucks his tongue in mock-disappointment before tossing what's left of their hacked-together medkit. "Fine. Passenger's seat, drunky. Try not to barf on the way."

Jack is... fucked up, but he's also got above average tolerance and way too much experience driving drunk, so the drive isn't long and they get to where they're going in roughly one piece. Rather than fill the silence himself, Jack cranks the radio and lets classic rock do the job. They're both drunk, and bloody, and miserable, and now they're pulling up to the graveyard. Jack leans over and taps the glovebox, pulling the pistol inside into his lap to check that it's loaded.

"Ya know, just in case," he explains as he shuts the door, tucking it into the back of his pants. Then he's gesturing for Tony to lead them. "Take it away, T."

They're driving and they're going to the graveyard. Outside of visiting hours, by the way. Just great. Probably weird for Jack. How often does he even come? Tony... He's been. A lot. More so in the beginning. Less so recently. He does the flowers. Holidays, specific anniversaries, that sort of thing. Again— not so much of late. Been busy. Life.

When they get there though it's just as familiar as ever, even in the middle of the night. He starts getting out of the car when Jack opens the glovebox and pulls out a gun. They were driving around with a gun? A loaded gun? In the glovebox? "In case of what? The zombie apocalypse? Why do you even have a gun? You said you went straight."

Okay, now he's kind of pissed. Actually very pissed. It's exactly this kind of reckless behavior that got Sofia killed. Getting out of the car he slams the door shut. God damn it. He knew better than to get in a car with Jack and yet he did it anyway. Every time. "Come on."

He just wants to get this over with.

Edited 2017-04-18 04:07 (UTC)

Jack doesn't answer - just holds two fingers up to his temple and mimes a gun going off, little gunshot noise included. Then he's catching up, brushing shoulders with Tony as they head in, either oblivious or just uncaring of the fact that he's pissed. He's too busy squinting at passing headstones, occasionally reaching up to rub absently at his scar. Tony tore into it, and even if the alcohol numbs things considerably, just the slightest edge of a sting still makes its way through.

"Y'know, I kinda missed this." Jack is talking to nobody and nothing but it's the silence that's starting to fray his nerves, getting him lagging just a step or two behind Tony. "Pissing you off, I mean. Had fun tonight. Haven't been hit like that in years."

Fun. He stops and turns around, hands coming up to form Ls with his fingers and spread out like he's framing his sentence.

"We are not bonding. We're not friends! I'm a massively flawed individual with avoidance issues and you're crazy. The Odd Couple this is not. The only thing we have in common is a woman who's dead. Cold. In the ground." His voice rises. "And she's not getting back up to give you the ass kicking you're clearly in need of. What the hell do you want from me Jack? I tell Angel not to be too hard on you, got her grandparents to stop calling you 'that murderer'. I even made them let me put your name on the damn headstone. What more can you possibly want!?"

Yeah. That was the thing about Sofia's headstone. Soon as his royalties started rolling in he went to her parents and made them a deal: he'd pay for Angel's college education. All of it. Anywhere she wanted to go. If they let him put Jack's last name on the headstone. Just like Sofia would have wanted.

So what more is Jack looking for here because at every opportunity Tony has tried to do the right thing and all it's getting him is a partially collapsed throat and dragged around graveyard at the crack of dawn. What's the point of doing right when it's never enough for anyone.

It's enough to stop him cold. Whether or not Tony wanted to hit Jack in some strange soft spot, he apparently has - and the emphasis is on strange, because his face blanks out, attention drifting from Tony like he's suddenly stopped existing. Nevermind what he's saying, or might have left to say. Jack starts picking through the headstones like he doesn't believe Tony, relying on fuzzy memories to guide him to the right one.

When he finds the right one, he kneels down to touch the lettering - and then just sits there, off to the side like he's afraid of sitting on her, dirt and blood and who knows what else in his hair and clothes as he takes it in. Sofia Dawes, loving daughter, wife and mother. There's his name, right there, on a headstone ten times nicer than anything Jack could ever have afforded her.

"...Hey, Soph." A beat. "Been an asshole again. Sorry."

It's like she's not even dead. Tony might want to go wait by the car or call a cab or something; Jack's chatting away, updating her on everything he's been up to. Finishing high school. College. Kicking his bad habits (the illegal ones, anyway). His work.

It might take a while.

Tony throws his hands up in the air as Jack runs off. Jackass can't even wait until he's finished. Make his way back to the car he does, leaning against the trunk and putting his face in his hand. He can't deal with this. The lawsuit, Jack, everything. He's getting too sober. Needs another drink.

What the hell did he ever do so wrong? He doesn't know. But if there's anything his parents have taught him it's him. It's all him. Can't change what you are.

But he has to keep going. Pull through. Whenever Jack does get back he'll be calmer (and, disgustingly, more sober), eyes gazing up at the stars as he hunts constellations. It's a good spot. Not a lot of light pollution in a graveyard.

Jack takes a little while - by the time he's back, he looks like he's sobered up a little too, and something almost approaching bashful for it. He's got the keys in hand, rolling them back and forth in his palm, but his attention is on Tony.

He doesn't say anything at first, just heading over. Then he offers his hand.

"Thank you, Tony." Could be sarcastic, but it's not, so painfully genuine that it's probably kind of embarrassing for both of them. People like Jack and Tony don't do genuine too well, usually. "I mean it. I know it probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but Sofia appreciates it too, I'm sure. Everything."

It's not that the handshake is a trap - it's just that if Tony takes it, Jack changes his mind, leaning in to give him a one-armed hug instead.

Tony studies Jack a moment before reaching out to take that offered hand. Instead of the stoic shake he's expecting though there's suddenly an impromptu hug going on. He bears with it. For exactly one second.

"Unhunh. Okay. We're all appreciative. Yeah." He'll just be trying to pull away and make some personal space. Yep. Rude, but he's not much of an hugger. Doubtless due to his parents lack of physical displays of affection growing up his therapist would probably say, but he pays her an whole lot of money to tell him what's wrong with him and listen to absolutely none of it. Also the sex isn't bad.

So. "Just take me home. It's nearly..." A look at his watch. "Jesus. 5 in the morning."

Edited 2017-04-18 06:05 (UTC)

"You really weren't kidding when you said you had issues. My grandma beat me with a chain and I'm still better at this affection thing than you." He gives Tony's arm a couple quick pats though, passing him by to slide into the driver's seat. "Sex doesn't count as affection, bee-tee-dubs. C'mon, I'll get you back to your place. If it's not some ritzy shindig, I'm gonna be disappointed in you, Tony."

Which is how Tony ends up dropped off at his place, Jack's car idling out front. Before he goes, though, Jack gives him another awkward pat on the shoulder.

"Y'know, I think I might stick around for a little while longer. Because of you. You remember that next time I piss you off, chief."

"That's what Jim Beam's for." And he lets himself in on the passenger side. Not much of a talk back. Or any talk. Jack's a talker. Tony's a brooder. ...Crap, they really are a sitcom. Coming next fall on ABC. But it's nice. Not having to think. Engage. Fix. All he has to do is give directions and sit back.

The apartment building he lives in is a nicer affair than his last one. Not precisely Carnegie Hill, but there's a doorman. That's something. Tony starts getting out when Jack gives that parting pearl making him pause. "Gotta show up more than once every ten years for it to count, Jack."

He says it lightheartedly enough. He was never the one who told Jack to leave. "Night." Closing the door he points as he starts walking towards the apartment entrance. "You're banned from my after parties!"

Just FYI. He's going to get a drink. Sit around in his dark apartment. Be filthy rich and stiff upper lip it. You know. Bachelor things.

[Recollé] Telenovela Ep1: Tony y Jack

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Why do I tag you I have like five more things to PM Angel's player now SMH

dammit tony don't tell his daughter abt all his business!!!

Okay fine he won't tell her to send you an Easter peep and guilt you forever. BEC mmk

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This is officially the most horrible thread jsyk

you could not get more dysfunctional if you tried

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