Everything is fine, Jo. Stop looking at me like that. I saw a lighthouse on the way here from the office—a pathetic, useless thing. Just a light spinning in the dark for ships that are probably going to crash anyway. It's a waste of energy. Honestly, people are obsessed with the idea of safety. It's delusional. Pass the salt.
Pass the salt. You're always so dramatic. It's just a building, Vic. Not a philosophy. Eat your food.
It's not just a building when it's rotting away while nobody cares. You always have to be so literal, don't you? Just eat your food before it gets cold. I'm tired of the constant deconstruction. I saw a building, it looked like a tombstone. That's the point. Just be quiet and chew for once minute.
I'm not deconstructing anything. You're just tired. Pass the salt and shut up.
Here's the salt. Don't tell me what to do. I'm not tired, I'm just sick of your attitude. You think everything is so simple, but the world is falling apart right in front of you. You've got that habit of ignoring the obvious that actually matters. It's pathetic. Just eat your damn dinner.
The world is fine. You're just looking for cracks to feel important. Eat your dinner. It's getting cold.
The world is not fine. You keep saying "fine" because you're too terrified to look at the cracks. It's a defense mechanism, Jo. A pathetic one. I see the way you look away when the wind picks up outside. It's suffocating. I'm eating, see? Now leave me alone while I finish.
The wind is just wind. You're making ghosts out of shadows. I'm not going anywhere. Finish your plate.
You're not going anywhere because you're too stubborn to admit anything else. It's exhausting. You sit there acting like the air isn't heavy while I'm the only one seeing the rot in the floorboards. It's not just wind, it's pressure. I'm finishing the plate. Just stop staring at me. It's making me sick.
I'm not staring. You're the one vibrating. Just eat. It's exhausting for me.
I'm vibrating because I'm trapped in this room with you. You sit there like a statue while everything goes sideways. You think it's exhausting for you? Try being the one who actually has to notice the water is coming in. I'm eating. See? Happy now? Now shut your mouth and let me finish this in peace.
The water isn't coming in. You're imagining leaks. Just finish your food and I'm done talking.
Fine, be done. Go. You always want to exit the conversation the second things get uncomfortable. It's easy to pretend the floor is dry when you refuse to feel the dampness. I'm finishing. I don't need your permission to see the truth. Just get out of my sight. I'm sick of your silence.
I'm not leaving. You're the one making the silence loud. Eat your dinner, Vic.
Then sit there. Sit and be quiet. That's what you're best at, isn't it? Being a ghost while the house burns. I'm eating. The food is a disaster, but like everything else, you don't care. Just stay there in your silence. It's the only place you know.
The food is fine. You're just looking for a reason to be miserable. Just eat.
It's fine because you have no taste, Jo. You'd call cardboard a meal if it was quiet enough. I'm not looking for reasons to be miserable; the misery is just there, waiting for people like you. I'm eating. Are you satisfied now? Stop commenting on every forkful. It's grating.
I'm not commenting. You're the one talking about every bite. Just eat.
I'm talking because the silence is deafening. You sit there like there's nothing wrong, and it's insulting. I'm eating, look? I'm chewing. Stop being so weird about watching me. It's making me want to choke. I'm done with this.
You're not done. You're just loud. Put the fork down.
I'll put the fork down when I feel like it. You think you control the room just by being cold? It's pathetic. I'm not loud, I'm honest. You're just sensitive to anyone not being able to swallow the truth without choking. Fine. Sit there in your little bubble. I'm not done with you.
You're never honest. You're just loud. Just eat your food and be quiet.
Honesty is too loud for you, is it? You want the quiet lie because the truth is suffocating us. I'm eating. See? I'm quiet now. Is that what you wanted? To sit here while the world decays? You're delusional, Jo. Just sit there and rot. I'm done with the games.
I'm not rotting. You're just tired. Finish your plate. We're done.
We're never done. You keep saying that like it means something. It's just another word you throw out when things get uncomfortable. I'm finishing the plate. Look, it's almost empty. There. Now you can go back to pretending everything is perfect while the walls are closing. I'm tired of your exhaustion.
The walls aren't moving. You're just getting old. Get your plate off the table when you're finished.
I'm not getting old, I'm just waking up. The walls are moving, even if you're too blind to notice the inch. I'm taking the plate up. There. Is that clean enough for your perfect world? Go ahead, stay there in your shadows. I'm going to the kitchen. Don't follow me.
I'm not following you. Just leave the plate. You're making a mess.
I'll leave it exactly where I want. You're so obsessed with the mess that you miss the house on fire. It's pathetic, Jo. I'm going to the kitchen. Sit there in your clean, empty world. I'm done caring about your rules. Don't even think about saying anything when I come back.
The house isn't on fire. Just go to the kitchen. I'm staying here.
Stay then. Rot in the dark. It's where you belong anyway. I'm going to the kitchen because I need a drink that isn't this bullshit. You think you're winning because you're still? You're just stagnant. Don't expect me to talk to you when I get back. I'm done with this.
I'm not expecting anything. Just get your drink. I'm tired of the noise.