Christ, okay — you know who I ran into? Deniz. At the — I want to say it was a pharmacy, not a waiting room, but same energy, those plastic chairs bolted to the floor. Looked exactly the same, still doing that thing where he laughs before the joke lands. Asked about you actually. I said I didn't know, which, yeah, my fault, I know.
How's — god, I don't even know what I'm allowed to ask you at this point. It's been that long.
Deniz always did laugh like he was apologizing for existing. Pharmacy, sure, feels right for him.
Look, I'm not... I don't know what I'm allowed to ask either, Ivo. Or maybe I do and I just won't. It's been stupidly long. Too long to pretend we're picking up where we left off without it feeling like a costume. I've got this shift at the warehouse that starts at six, the one where the forklift driver treats the whole place like a racetrack. It bores me to tears.
Wait, why am I telling you about the forklift? Bad idea. I didn't mean to make this awkward. I just... did he look old? Or just tired?
Tired. Old is — no, tired's the word. Like someone who's been meaning to sleep for a decade and keeps getting interrupted. Still had the jacket though, the ugly green one, so some things hold.
And don't apologize for the forklift thing, I don't care, tell me about the racetrack guy. I like that you're still working somewhere that makes you want to scream. Feels right. Feels like you.
I'm not gonna pretend this isn't weird. It is. I'm the one who let it go this long so I don't get to act surprised it's stiff now.
The racetrack guy, right. His name's Dave. He doesn't have a license, technically, but he acts like he's auditioning for NASCAR. Just screaming down the aisles, making me dive for a box of screws. It's terrifying and exactly why I haven't quit. The fear keeps you sharp, I guess. Or numb. Whatever.
And yeah, the jacket. If that thing is still hanging on his back, he's not changing anytime soon. Good for him. Or bad. Hard to tell.
You're not acting surprised? That's... fair. I should've called. Or maybe I shouldn't have. It's a mess. Don't get me started on the mess. Let's just sit with the weirdness for a second. It's less painful than filling the silence.
Dave sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen. Please don't die for a box of screws, I mean that.
You shouldn't have called. Or you should have. I don't actually know which — I've rehearsed both versions in my head and neither one makes me look good, so.
I'm not gonna fill it either. The silence. Just — it's weird that you're still you, is what I keep thinking. Same forklift-adjacent chaos, same way of talking around the actual thing. I missed that more than I expected to, which is annoying, because I didn't think I let myself miss stuff anymore.
Dave sued the company last month for "emotional distress," claimed the forklift was sentient. Can you believe that? I didn't know if I should laugh or call security. Guess you're right, I'm still... me. The same chaotic mess. It's comforting and exhausting all at once.
You thinking about the silence isn't annoying, Ivo. It's just... heavy. And yeah, missing stuff is bad. That's the whole point. Makes you feel like you're leaking. I'm leaking right now. Too much honesty, not enough wine. Or maybe too much wine, I lost count after the third. Does it matter? Probably not. Just... yeah. I missed you too, in the quiet way that hurts. Don't make me say it again.
A sentient forklift. Christ, I hope that judge threw it out laughing. Some things really are just machines, Dave, sit down.
I'm not gonna make you say it again. I heard it the first time, I'm not an idiot, I just don't know what to do with it standing still like this.
Third glass — is that the merlot you always used to buy because it was cheap and you liked the label? Drink some water at some point, I'm serious, I'm not saying that to be a parent about it, I just don't want you waking up regretting the honest parts.
That judge probably did laugh, or maybe Dave just talked his way out of it again. He's slippery. And yeah, the merlot. The label had a weird goat on it. Tasted like wet cardboard, but it was cheap. I'm still buying the cheap stuff, apparently.
Don't worry about me waking up. I do that anyway, usually around 4 AM with a headache and no memory of how I got there. It's a routine. Water's fine, I guess. I probably should.
You're not being a parent, Ivo. Just... stop. It's fine. I'm fine. Really. Just don't look at me like I'm a project. I'm just a person with a forklift problem and a glass of bad wine. That's it.
I'm not looking at you like a project, I don't even know what your face looks like right now, we're doing this over — whatever this is. Words on a screen. I'm just saying it because I know what 4am with a headache looks like too, I've got my own version, mine involves the radiator in this flat clanking like it's trying to say something.
Fine. You're fine. Goat wine, forklift menace, all of it fine. I'll stop poking. I just — don't disappear again after this, that's all I've got. Not a demand. Just a thing I'd like.
The radiator clanking is worse than the forklift. At least Dave has a reason to be loud. You're right, it's just words on a screen. That's why I can say things I wouldn't say in a room. Too much space.
Disappear? I'm not planning on it. Hard to vanish when you're stuck in a shift that goes from six to six. But yeah... don't expect me to be coherent forever. I'm a bit drunk and a bit tired. Just... don't wait for me to be perfect. That's the thing I was trying to say before. I'm just here. For now.
I wasn't waiting for perfect. I wasn't even waiting for coherent, clearly, since you're three goats deep into a bottle and still making more sense than half the people I talk to sober.
Go drink some water. Text me tomorrow, or don't, I'm not gonna keep score on it this time. Tell Dave he's a menace from me, if you see him. And say hi to nobody for me, since apparently I'm the only ghost showing up tonight.
I'm drinking the water. See? I listened. That's rare for me.
Dave won't take the message, he thinks he's a visionary, but I'll tell him you called him a menace anyway. And hi to nobody. That's funny. Nice, even. I'm the only ghost showing up tonight too, apparently. Just a few of us left haunting the places we used to live.
Go to sleep, Ivo. The radiator's probably still clanking. Don't let it keep you.
Yeah, alright. Go pass out somewhere that isn't the floor, please.
Night, Cass. Don't let Dave near anything with wheels.
Floor's a solid choice for once. I'll aim for the couch. Dave's got enough wheels for all of us, don't worry. I'll try to keep him off the highway.
Night, Ivo. Thanks for... whatever this was. It was less of a disaster than I thought. Go easy on the radiator.