white is red .

[Deleted]

The air has a crispness to it, the promise of impending fall. Whilst she loved Autumn more than any other time of year, she already dreaded the onslaught of pumpkin spice orders, knowing they would run out of the syrup multiple times a week and have to face a deluge of irritation from basic bitch customers. She slips her arms into her jacket, pulling out the elastic from her hair to allow it to fall around her shoulders. "If you're identical, surely you can work the same looks? Maybe quit the dye job," she suggests, glancing at his dark locks, "though I think it suits you. Really brings out the insomniac contrast to your features." Better not to give straightforward compliments, lest they be misconstrued. But it was difficult. A whole alternate future had stretched before them once, one where they could do couples cosplay, spend Fridays avoiding the world and playing video games, a relationship of equals where neither party had to worry about being too geeky for the other. But he'd dropped the girlfriend bomb, and now she had to let that alternate future die before it had even had a chance to live.  The problem was that it had been such a blunt cut off she was struggling to let it go, and since there wasn't really anything she was actually losing, she was embarrassed by how disheartened she felt about the whole situation. Really, she knew she should avoid him like the plague, treat him only with the most perfunctory niceties. But how can she when he says things like that? Laughing genuinely, she shakes her head, "if I could control what went up on those walls do you really think we'd have that cliche New York picture, the black and white one where only the taxi is in color? I'm pretty sure it came with the Ikea frame." She follows his eyeline, looking up at the skyscrapers with him. She loved this city. Not that she had many places to compare it to, mind. Lost in thought, she's brought back down to earth with the suggestion of drinking, and she looks at him like he's crazy. "Have you even slept? What if my boss sees me, I"m supposed to be sick! I've got class first thing tomorrow too, and I need to do some more reading tonight. Won't your friends wonder where you are?"

 - befor

[august de witte]

August pulls a stand of hair down to inspect it and goes a little cross-eyed doing so. Dying his hair brown had come after being mistaken for Abel too many times and being compared to Leonardo DiCaprio. As soon as the latter comparison had been made, August found himself going to the store and purchasing a Loreal Paris Soft Black. He hated everything about Leonardo DiCaprio, especially in that goddamn movie about the savage man that Corinne had made him see in Imax. "He carries himself more stockbroker-like. I'm too babely with the blonde, I had to dye it to prevent abduction for being too much of a hunk," he's joking of course, he tips most of the coffee into his mouth but leave a little behind, "here, for your lack of insomniac contrast." "Wait.. that good taste wasn't yours? What about Lunch atop a Skyscraper??? That had to be you, I refuse to believe that keen eye wasn't yours?" August kicks a piece of trash forward with his black vans, and keeps kicking it as it rolls ahead. "Your boss won't see you, you can live a little and read on the way to class.. and I'm sure they'll put up posters if they miss me too much," he turns his eyes to a sign that points down into a basement pub. It looks Irish, but he can't remember if Mac is Scottish or Irish. "This'll do for the first round, c'mon."

[Deleted]

She rolls her eyes at his assertion that he would be too babely. It wasn't untrue though, she had seen pictures of Abel and he was more conventionally good looking, all thick blonde hair and olive toned skin. But she wasn't lying when she said she preferred August's look, he suited the dark hair. He had the kind of good looks that were difficult to tarnish, with even sleepless nights and a home dye job doing little to dent his obvious attractiveness. Ava herself had grown into her features over time, having spent a fair amount of her teenage years looking almost alien like, with her wide set eyes and prominent cheekbones. It still surprised her when people called her pretty, or even beautiful. "What a cross that must be to bear, I don't blame you for dyeing it." She takes the coffee, draining it in one and holding onto the cup, not one to litter. Ava paused in the street, giving him a stern look. "Don't you hate on Lunch atop a Skyscraper, that's a classic. My dad died on a construction site.." she started the dark joke, only to remember she'd told him the truth. "Fuck. I would have really made you feel bad about that if I could." She suspected that even if it were true, August would be impervious to guilt.  The excuses have poured out of her full lips without her moderating them - she should have chosen the strongest and stuck to it, instead of rambling on like this. Now she's got no real reason to deny, so she follows him down the cast iron stairs, entering a bar that's sticky underfoot. Though she drank plenty at parties and in peoples' apartments, she wasn't used to bars, having only acquired a fake ID recently. She's not even sure how or what to order. "I'll have whatever you're having," she said, trying to feign confidence.

 - befor

[august de witte]

August places himself back at the apartment and he's sure everyone is where he left them. Theodora will be where she invited him to stay and where he did stay temporarily - her bed. Nick will still be a vegetable on the couch, finishing up season two of Rick and Morty like the late bloomer he was. New girl will probably be resting her head on his lap, always desperate to be liked and therefore ready to pounce for a blowie when suggested. This warms him and forbids any worry from crossing his mind. They'll assume he's taken a nostalgic walk or hanging out in his favourite coffee shop - which he was a mere five minutes ago. He's clear of any charges. "I said it was genius... no he didn't," he furrows his brow and points at her, "hah. I thought you were trustworthy, now I see you're just like the rest of these old Yanks." August trots down the stairs, so clumsily that it's a wonder he didn't fall straight into the concrete. He pulls out a red leather stool for her and then for himself, then looks at her for her order. "Ah," he forgets that she's a bit younger than he is and he reads the naivety on her face. August plucks two forms of ID from his wallet and lays them on the counter or the bartender, always prepared to be questioned for his age and then questioned again if his license is fake because, 'there's no way in hell you're twenty-one.' "Two pints of that," he flicks his finger at a tap and waits patiently as the grey haired bartender surveys his cards, his silver rimmed glaces perched at the end of his nose. "I know it's Sunday and you've got a GPA to maintain, but it's also Sunday and my head hurts a little from my night and let loose.. I can tell you're worrying, thinking about your grades slipping and your boss coming down those stairs, but trust me. It won't happen," he takes the freshly poured pints from the bartenders, "cheers."

[Deleted]

This is how Ava saw herself when she imagined going off to New York for college. Trundling down a typically New York street, she would stop off for casual drinks in a bar after her shift at a local coffee shop, hand in hand with a guy she'd been seeing, someone cute and funny and most importantly smart, not like the New Jersey show offs she was so used to. It was all perfect, the cooling summer air and the way her hair was falling about her shoulders, August couldn't have looked more the part... but it was just the look, the underlying context wasn't there. Still, everything else was as she wished, and for a girl as sheltered as her, she was pleased with this foray into adulthood.  That is, until she can see that he can see her immaturity. She's annoyed at herself. She wants to be sophisticated and worldly, she wants to be more like her mom, who was (and remains) the life and soul of any room she entered. But that's at odds with her desire to succeed, as well as her deep rooted affection for fictional characters and Twitch streaming. "Thanks," she mutters, giving him a sheepish smile as his ID is checked. Predictably, hers is not. Laughing at the irony of the situation, she picks up the pint and clinks the glass against his. "Cheers." After a long draught, she wipes foam from her lip, offering him a proper grin. "I promise not to worry from here on out. If my manager shows up at a bar at noon on a Sunday, she's got bigger things to worry about than me slacking off." She takes another sip, comforted by the familiar taste of beer. She'd ordered a martini to impress someone once and ended up spitting it out down their shirt. "You know, I needed this. Tell me about your night, what did you do?"

 - befor

[august de witte]

August clinks his glass with hers and takes a long sip. The foam catches the tip of his nose and he raises his wrist to dab it off, the glass landing with a satisfying thump on the beer matt. August felt at home in this pub. He'd always wanted one of those apartments above a bar like this, like he was a fictional character from a sitcom and behind every sarcastic thing he said played a laugh track. "Did you know that Charles Douglass invented the laugh track in the 50's? Most people you hear laughing are actually dead folks. Crazy, huh?" he says this as he looks around the dark pub, not caring that it didn't fit the flow of the conversation. It's empty except for them, and he gets a feeling that this place rarely sees the action of people as young as them. "Well," he takes an longer sip of the beer. It tastes like the keg has been sitting there for a while, but it's cold and satisfying nonetheless. "After smoking that joint, we were pretty hungry for some good old McDonalds. But we got distracted by the liquor store and completely forgot about our 50 piece chicken nugget meal. Everything's a bit fuzzy. Tequila, beer, tequila, beer, beer, tequila. Then we ordered a massive pizza, Nick and I ate the whole thing. We poured Flamin' Hot Cheetos on it too, for zest. It gets a bit fuzzier. Dora passed out, Valley girl passed out and then Nick and I played video games until I came to get coffee... feel my thumbs, they're ripped," he yammers on and then presented her his thumbs to feel, "what about yours?"

[Deleted]

Ever the lightweight, it doesn't take long for those first sips of beer to have her feeling looser in her body, her elbow against the bar as she slouched ever so slightly. It was easier to pretend there was nothing wrong with this scene now that they were away from places she was familiar with, out of sight of prying eyes. Shouldn't that make her feel worse? Ava reminded herself for the millionth time that she wasn't doing anything wrong. "I did know that, actually. Not the Charles Douglass bit, but that they were all dead. Read it in a Chuck Palahniuk novel, you know, when he keeps repeating something like that to try and make it seem more poignant than it actually is... I am Jack's White Teenage Angst Dressed Up as Existential Dread." She drinks down more beer, the alcohol making her less keen on people pleasing and more inclined to speak her mind. The bartender is obviously listening in on the conversation and if it weren't for the tipsiness she'd feel embarrassed by her own pretentiousness, but as it is she doesn't care. As she listens to August's recounting of his evening, she can't help but smile. His friends sounded too good to be true, a group of tight-knit friends straight out of a teen sitcom. She imagined them sitting around exchanging catchphrases, the group laughing riotously when Nick was characteristically clumsy, or playfully chiding August when he was indulging in his annoy-the-waitress schtick. More than anything it sounded like unconditional acceptance, something not many friendship groups could boast of. "Your poor arteries," she commented, picturing the Cheetos pizza with envy. She grins at his thumbs, taking them between her thumbs and forefingers and giving a squeeze. "God, you're ripped. Aren't you exhausted? Don't let me keep you out." She wonders how honestly to answer his question, reluctant to lie but not exactly proud of her Saturday night. Fuck it. "I went and saw Dunkirk with my mom, then headed back to my apartment. Made a huge vat of macaroni cheese, ate half of it, cleaned the kitchen, shared a joint with my neighbor... finally spent the night livestreaming on Twitch. Got a few $2 donations with people asking me to show my tits, the usual."

 - befor

[august de witte]

"I think I probably got it from Nick or a Wikipedia binge. Nick says loads of random shit... I know.. that guy's the worst, right? I read Fight Club once, because it seemed like the thing to do," he had also bought Choke, a novel which his older brothers found sitting in A Barnes and Noble bag, then proceeded to call him a sex addict for a few months. He didn't know what happened to the book in the end, but he didn't repurchase it. That seemed to happen frequently in his family. His brothers finding an oddity in August and nitpicking it until it became exhausting. August used to react and lose his mind at his brothers, which was encouraging as it was incredibly amusing to them. But he learned the joke had a quicker death if he bit the bullet and ignored it. "I'm okay, honestly. Muscles are sort of sore, but the pump I've got is worth it," he raises his thumb to the light and pretends to admire it. Her answer to his question makes him feel a mixture of things. First sad, because he can't imagine anything more depressing than going to see a Christopher Nolan movie with his mother and then smoking a lousily made joint with his forty something neighbour. Then he was a little jealous that she found such activities satisfying. Then fortunate for his friends, who tolerated his bullshit and were somehow able to have a good time even though they were doing the same thing they'd done a million times before. "Shit..." he pauses, fishing for something witty to say but overwhelmed with how depressing it sounded, "I hope you didn't show them your tits. $2 seems low, maybe ask for $5." August makes eye contact with the bartender and points to a bottle of whiskey - seemingly the only hard liquor in this bar. "Could we grab a couple of those? Shots, you know. Sunday is the new Saturday and I refuse to let you have that sad of a weekend... Jesus christ, Dunkirk and chores. Fuck. Don't you know who you are? You're Ava the Barbarian. Ava the Conqueror. Princess Ava of whatever-the-fuck-this-bar-is-called," he grabs a shot and pours it into his mouth.

[Deleted]

There is was again, his devotion to his friends. What made it less nauseating was how little they praised each other, to verbalize their friendship would have been overkill on top of the obvious affection they shared. She thought back on herself as a teenager, reading Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis and Neitzsche, thinking she was a tortured intellectual and not just your stand teenage imposter. "I have to admit I like Fight Club, though it's the lone exception to the rule that books are better than their film adaptions." Ava was an expert in this field, spending most of her teenage years buried in literature. It went beyond the cliche of a teenage girl looking for some escapism, she was a true fantasist from birth, all too willing to believe in magic and ghosts and utterly reluctant to accept the world as it was. It was strange that she had wound up falling so in love with science, biology in particular, when in theory it stood against all the mystical things she so loved. But then she had always found science experiments to be a real kind of magic, more powerful than the cheap tricks of magicians for being true. She studies his face as he processes her evening. It sounded more bleak when said out loud, but then this was normal for her. She contemplated telling him about the time she made some random listicle on a clickbait site, number 8 on the top 10 hottest Twitch streamers... it would sound sad. "No, you've got to be a top level contributer to my Patreon if you want to see these A cups." Her eyes widen as he goes to order shots, her head shaking before she's even had a chance to respond. "It's not sad! There's nothing I'd have rather been doing," she said, and it's only half a lie. "Dunkirk wasn't great though. I only went to see Tom Hardy and his face was covered for almost the whole thing."  She wearily watches him as he downs a shot, not feeling inspired by his rousing speech. All she can think of is the reading she needs to get done, the frogs she'll have to dissect tomorrow... it wouldn't be pretty with a hangover. Then she remembers that it's noon, so long as she stopped before 5 she could still get home and sleep this off. She takes the shot, her face scrunching up with disgust. "I can't wait for you to go back to California," she says, the taste of whisky turning her stomach, "can I get a water, sir? Thank you."

 - befor

[august de witte]

He shrugs at her opinion of Fight Club and drinks to it. Truth was, he had liked Fight Club. He thought it was so good he had bought Choke, which he had looked forward to reading until he was shamed for it. Would it really be so bad to be a sex addict? There are worse things to be addicted to. He could have had a thing for heroin. August laughs at her suggestion to contribute to Patreon, his head shaking as he chuckles. "Do you do that Patreon thing? I'm not sure how much Youtubers and Insta famous people make, but I'm sure it's more than me and that they don't need to be begging off Patreon." In his experience, the richest people tended to be the greediest and the ones who would beg for money. His family wasn't like that. If there's one thing the De Wittes were, it was modest. You'd never be able to guess the amount of digits on his parents' bank balance if you'd just met them. His mom was sweet and homey, his dad hard-working and kind hearted. Though if you were to do a quick Google search of America's richest, you'd find their name somewhere in the top 100. "Is it not sad? Please don't defend it, I think it might make me feel more depressed for you." The shot lays hot on his tongue and throat, he takes a sip of beer to cool it down. August grins as he watches her down the golden liquid, her cushiony lips scrunching up with the rest of her face. God, she was really cute. "I bet you anything that a week into October you'll be so fucking bored serving up pumpkin drinks that you'll be begging for my simple self," he's drinking his beer too fast and she's smart to order a water, he's less so. "This is going to be your favourite adventure yet. By the time this day's over, I think you'll be a new woman."

[Deleted]

"This sounds like bullshit but I only have one because I was asked! The same people kept donating to me on Twitch so I thought I might as well. I just put up Cosplay pictures and share my Discord info." Ava hated to admit it, but in the months since she had started regularly livestreaming her gameplay, she had found herself unconsciously wearing lower cut tops. It was like a disease that spread amongst female Twitch users, it so easily quadrupled your viewing figures and got those donations rolling in. She didn't feel good about it, but felt better when she realized how innocent it was. It wasn't like she was a cam girl! The same way she felt guilty for sitting here enjoying August's company, she somehow felt guilty for being female whilst gaming. "I wouldn't get any Youtube views, people just watch me playing League of Legends. Probably because I'm laughably bad. I only make a couple hundred bucks a month max, but it's nice, it's a few less shifts." She wondered why she felt the need to defend herself like this, especially because he didn't seem to be being particularly judgmental. Something to process later. All she knew was that if he asked for her Twitch handle she'd have to make one up-- it was just too embarrassing. She's loosened up considerably now. Hitting him on the arm, she laughs indignantly, pouting. "I'm serious, it's not sad! Stop. If you keep saying it's sad I'll kill myself, that's honestly most of my Saturdays." Her eyes settle on his as he speaks and she wonders if she'd been thinking out loud, or if he'd just read her mind. This happened often with him. "You know, I was thinking about how much I'm dreading that for the first time today. Isn't that weird? We must have both walked past the same PSL sign or something, subconscious suggestion." She took another sip of beer to wash the whisky taste away, surprised by how empty her glass was. She forces herself to take a long gulp of the water. "Maybe I like the old me? Maybe you need to be a new woman. Let's go shopping, I think your first day of school outfit should be a bodycon dress and some killer heels. Show them what you're working with!"

 - befor

[august de witte]

"Which part is bullshit? I'm having a hard time accepting you. It might make it better if I told you that I played Neopets the entire summer of my tenth year." The awkward, nerdy, spastic child he was had spent more than half his childhood facing a scene. He remembered having sit downs with his parents about his over usage of video games. They brought up the typical stuff: his brain was rotting, his eyes were going to fall out, he was going to become a killer with all those gun games. To which August fought back: he (next to Abel) was the top student in his class, he had perfect 20/20 vision, and if there was a world war, he'd be not only well prepared but also an expert sniper. The only realistic issue was his social skills, which took temporary leave when Nick went off to be popular. He genuinely smiles at her and is filled with a fleet of affection. I'll kill myself was a threat he commonly used and Ava saying it meant something. Fate, maybe? He shoves that feeling away from thought. "How many cats do you have?" he jokes, finishing off his beer and tapping the glass for another. "The sad part about Pumpkin Lattes is that they're actually not bad.. and as a coffee lover that is something I hate to admit. But I once made Theodora get me one for your place and it was worth the extra two bucks," when he mentions his girlfriend he feels a strange lump in his throat - guilt. He attempts to wash it away with a sip. "I have weak calves," he pulls the leg of his pants up to show her, the hair on his legs are bronzed from the sun. "I'm not shopping though, I'm just wearing this. You though, need an adjustment. Who told you that fun was the devil?"

[Deleted]

"The part where anyone would pay to watch me?" Ava said, as though it was obvious. She wondered what he meant by having a hard time accepting her. Was it that she seemed like a fake gamer girl to him too? That would be too depressing to contemplate, the idea that she could earnestly express her affection for a particular game and it be too good to be true. It should be a compliment but she'd lived through that particular compliment one too many times, she knew what it was to be considered too good to be true. It was much too fine a line to be able to tread, to be a cool girl, someone who liked comics and video games and looked good in a mini skirt, before you became a social outcast, someone who was considered too good to be true. It was not an affliction men suffered from. Men were allowed to have varied and esoteric interests, and these interests did not define them. Certainly no one thought they were fakers for indulging their interests. Not for the first time, Ava wished she had been born a heterosexual man, or at the very least, a lesbian. She rolls her eyes yet again at his question, giving him a playful shove. "I don't have any cats," she said defensively, before grinning at him, "I'm allergic. And besides, Saskia would never allow it." She might as well be a cat lady, for all her solitude and grandma-ness. Before long two fresh pints are presented to them, a volume of alcohol she can't comprehend contending with now, though she takes a valiant sip. "I'm embarrassed for you, August," she started, looking at him as though he had insulted her mother, "they're disgusting syrupy drinks. Clearly you don't respect the integrity of the coffee bean." He mentions his girlfriend and she looks away, as though he had mentioned her boss or worse, her estranged father. Theodora loomed large over their conversation, easy to ignore until--- well, she wasn't easy to ignore anymore. Leaning away from him, she took another long sip, avoiding his eye. "Theodora must miss you while you're away," she said, matter of factly, ignoring his question.

 - befor

[august de witte]

He grins as she shoves him, exaggerating the strength she used by nearly toppling over. "You don't have any cats, yet.. I hear their making them hairless," he takes another sip and grows irritated when she mentions her boring roommate, "fuck Saskia. Sounds like she'd rather have a rock for a roommate.. don't conform, don't let the bitch steal your light." Two pints are gently placed down and replace their empty glasses, August makes eye contact with the bartender and thanks him - he becomes more mannerly as he drinks. The faux brown haired boy winced with her, "I know, it's really bad. Nick likes them too; sometimes we pretend we're picking up for the girls and order four - two pumpkins and two Americanos. Then we give the latter to the girls and the former to ourselves," he's aware he's becoming less and less appealing, there's nothing manly about a guy who drinks sugary garbage. August observes her as her eyes leave him when he mentions Teddi. He's unsure if he's reading into her behavior and he wishes he could crack her open to read her mind. "Dora? Oh, yea. But I can fill a room over Skype and I'm pretty imaginative.. like anyone else and they'd be missing me more. But I'm a pretty present guy even if not physically. You know?"

[Deleted]

She narrows her eyes at him, as though irritated. The truth is she completely understands why he would have this perception of her, even though she believes it to be unfounded. "You know, the cat thing is pretty sexist. What would you say to a man who said the same thing as I did? You ought to get laid, maybe?" she took another long drink of beer, definitely feeling the effects. "Well August, I get laid. And you know what? I don't blame women for turning to cats instead." This was brazen talk for Ava, who had barely had casual sex and was not much a fan of it, though not in the way she was implying. She smiles when he hates on Saskia, deciding not to contradict. "Weird how things are gendered, isn't it? Pumpkin spice lattes are flavored with cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg. Who decided that gingerbread was for girls?" Hearing herself, she worries that she's made the conversation too gendered, too political. However unintentionally she had spent most of her life occupying male space, be that gaming circles or comics, and she'd learnt not to wear her femininity. She certainly avoided getting militant about it. "I don't know," she said with a grin. "But when you go all the way back, I guess a little distance for a year or so isn't going to hurt. You're lucky she's strong enough to deal with that."

 - befor