I saw a machine at the station at 3am that just swallowed my change and gave me nothing. Not even a refund. It didn't even blink a damn light. It reminds me of you, just taking what you want and pretending I didn't get cheated. It's pathetic, really. You just stand there watching it.
God, here we go again with that. It’s a vending machine, Rafe. It doesn't have a soul, let alone a grudge. I was just trying to get a coffee, not perform a deep dive into my character flaws. I'm not that bad, even if I am. It's exhausting, honestly.
Exhausting? Right. It's always exhausting for you when someone expects you to look at the hell of a mess. The machine didn't need a soul to be a thief, Marc. Neither do you. You take the coffee and I'm left standing with the empty slot. It's the same shit story every damn time. Get a grip.
You're obsessed with a metaphor that doesn't work. It's pathetic, Rafe. I didn't even see the change go because I was too busy trying not to fall asleep on the platform. If you want to play the victim of hardware failure, go for it. I'm not not your audience for this drama today. It's old.
It's old because you never change it. You were "too tired" while the world was falling apart? That's your classic move. Just drift off when things get inconvenient. Don't you dare tell me what's pathetic when you're the one who wrote the script in the first place. It's fucking exhausting, Marc.
I didn't write a script, you're the one keep reading the same three lines. It's a record player, Rafe. Truly exhausting. We went through this years ago, and neither of us won. If you want to keep holding that grudge, go ahead. It's cheaper than actually moving on. I'm just trying to finish my drink.
Moving on? Like you actually did something? You just sit there sipping your lukewarm coffee while the rest of us inhabit the rot. It's not a grudge if it's a fact. You think finishing your drink makes the debt disappear? It doesn't. You just finish the cup and leave. It's fucking unbelievable.
The debt doesn't exist, Rafe. You're just keeping score in your head like it gives you some purpose. It's just coffee and the rot. I leave the cup because it's empty. That's how physics work. You think staring at the mess makes it disappear? It's not unbelievable, it's just delusional.
Physics. Give me a break. You love hiding behind that cold logic because it doesn't require you to feel anything. It's easy to call me delusional when you're the one who walked away from the house burning. You leave the cup, and I'm the one left to clean up the spill. It's not physics, Marc.
The house was already gone before I walked out the door. You keep blaming the match for the smoke. I told you a thousand times the fire was over, but you'd rather stand in the ashes because it makes you feel important. It's not a tragedy, it's just a mess. I'm done being the villain in your fire.
"The fire was over." Right, because you were already halfway down the street when the roof started falling. You didn't even wait for the smoke to clear. You just needed the excuse to leave the smoke. You're not a villain, you're just a coward. Go ahead, finish your drink. I'm done listening to your excuses.
Coward. Right. If that helps you sleep tonight, take it. I stayed as long as there was anything worth saving, but you practically burned the blueprints yourself. You want a martyr, so be one. I'm just a guy who wants to go home. The coffee is cold anyway. The conversation is over. Go back to your cursed machine.
Go home? To what? That empty apartment where you pretend nothing ever happened? You didn't save anything; you were busy looking for the exit sign. The coffee is cold because you let it sit there, like everything else. Just walk out already. I'm tired of looking at your shadow. It's pathetic.
The apartment is empty because I like it that way, Rafe. Quiet. You're the one who haunts every room I enter. If I'm walking out, it's because there's nothing left to talk about but the shadow. You're being incredibly dramatic. It's actually a bit sad to watch. I'm leaving.
Leave then. You always leave when the air gets too heavy. You think silence is peace, but it's just the absence of everything you failed to face. Go back to your quiet rooms. I'll be here with the mess you left behind. Don't let the door hit you on the way out, or do. Whatever.
The door is already open, Rafe. You love the heavy air because it gives you something to choke on. It's not a failure, it's just silence when there's nothing left to say. Stay with your mess. You've always been good at that, loving the ruins. I'm going out for a walk.
A walk. Brilliant. Walk until your legs give out and realize you're still the same person. You think moving your feet changes the scenery inside? It doesn't. Go out and disappear into the dark. It's what you're best at anyway. Just don't come back expecting me to be any different person, Marc.
I don't expect anything from you anymore. That's the point. You'll be right here, waiting for me to return with an apology that's never coming. It's a loop, Rafe. I'm not disappearing, I'm just stepping away from the noise. Enjoy the dark. It suits you.
The noise is the only honest thing left, Marc. You call it silence because you can't handle the sound of what you actually did. Step away, then. The dark is fine; it doesn't pretend to be anything. I'm not waiting for an apology. I'm waiting for you to finally realize how small. Get out of here.
I'm small enough to know when a conversation is dead. You love the noise because you're terrified of what happens when you have to stop talking. It's a cheap trick, Rafe. I'm out. Don't bother bother checking the door for a trail. I'm not coming back for anything.