extent | duplicitynet

[ Nate nods. The thing is, he gets the dropping out issue. He didn't do it, he'd left school at 18. He'd been expected to go to college, though, and he never applied. He'd used his college fund as a down payment for an apartment in London instead.

But he'd always had ambition. It just hasn't been related to school. ]

You haven't. Again, you're 20, you've got your whole life ahead of you. You just need to decide what you want to do with it.

And it doesn't have to have anything to do with magic, but...you're good, at that. You're good at doing what we do.

I've learned more here than I have in like, the last five years. Probably longer. I feel like--useful, and I'm getting better, and I can do all kinds of shit that I couldn't before I got snatched up here.

( it was something of a source of pride, honestly. nick has carved out a way to achieve more under these messed up circumstances than he ever managed to do back home, he's grown more and learned more, and actually felt useful some of the time, too.

it's all souring to the tune of one shitty conversation, and he knows, logically, that it shouldn't ruin months of progress the same way that he knows, logically, about all of chev's unpleasant personality traits that he'd been happy to ignore until now. but knowing doesn't stop him from finishing his drink, and it doesn't stop the sad downturn to the corners of his mouth. )

But I'm going to forget it all anyway and go back to being...doing nothing. So like, what's the point?

[ Nate leans down to put a kiss on the middle of Nick's forehead.

He hates seeing those downturned lips. It's a bittersweet thing, honestly, because he knows so much of Nick's usual smile is a mask. Seeing him sad means that the mask is gone, and that's a good thing. It also just means that he's sad, though, and that's not what Nate would ever want. ]

You don't know that. You could grow at home just like you've grown here. Maybe you just needed the right inspiration.

You don't know everything about what the future holds, none of us do.

I think if I go back I'm just doing to keep doing exactly what I've been doing for the last five years.

( it's not intended as self-depreciation, just something that feels inevitable to nick. he can't shake the feeling that he's convinced everyone that he's something that he's not, that the version that sits in a dingy little apartment and hasn't done anything more than get high and sleep around is the truth. that whatever it is that he's constructed here is some elaborate lie.

he also knows that the cycle of 'i suck' 'no you don't' isn't going to go anywhere productive for either of them, though. it's very hard to wallow in self-loathing when someone is actively contradicting you. so instead he just drains the glass, wonders vaguely why he didn't start with shots. )

It'll pass, it's fine, I just-- ( nick shrugs, closes his eyes. it's just a little easier to talk, like that. ) I don't...like myself, very much, right now.

[ Nate curls his arm around him, pulling him close. He's quiet for a few minutes, thoughtful and not wanting to say anything trite or dismissive.

His hand rubs gently along Nick's arm. ]

Did you feel this way at home? Like, did you feel bad about yourself for what you were doing, or not doing?

A bit.

( nick hasn't said so many honest things about himself in a row in some time. he talks more now, he's trying hard not to just brush off or ignore everything, but he still squirms his way out of these conversations half as often as he engages. he's still out of practice.

but nate's hand on his arm helps, and his leg under nick's head, and nick reaches up until he can find the front of nate's shirt and hold onto it, squeezing tight between his fingers, and that helps too. )

I don't let myself sober up. Like, people think I use a lot here...it's not even close. I would just— wake up, get high, stay high, no matter what I was doing, get drunk as well, pass out, and do it all over again the next day. Because if I wasn't, I started feeling all...of this shit, and I didn't want to deal with it.

[ Nate strokes his hand through Nick's hair while he talks.

He understands this. The need to stay high, or drunk, or both, to escape from all the bits of your life that you can't stand. He lets out a sigh. ]

I used all the time at home. Never saw much wrong with it, really. I never thought I was addicted, and probably wouldn't have cared if I was.

It might not always be like that, though, Nick. I mean, things changed here. They could change at home too, you haven't lived all of that life yet.

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