Prologue to the Promise

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Log Title: Prologue to the Promise

Log setting: Upstairs, the first Chez on Moss Street

Log Cast:
Doug
Trace

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Very slowly, cautiously, the bathroom door creaks open. Reddened hazel eyes peek out, blue braids hung all around and concealing much of his face. He sorely hopes not to see anyone out in the living room.... not yet. It opens a little further, and he steps out shyly, cradeling his works in his hands.

Glass stirs a little in his place, sprawled out on the beanbag.

Okay, just Glass. Trace can handle Glass he figures, somewhat sardonically, seeing how similar their current positions are in this household. He pads over softly, not even putting his stuff away, just setting it all down on the floor beside him as he settles himself down on the floor close to the bean bag. He gently nudges Glass' shoulder. "How you doin'?" he asks softly, not even sure the older boy will awaken from the nudge.

Glass stirs again and opens his eyes stickily. He looks at you and rubs his eyes on the back of his hand. "Um. Hi." A little smile.

Trace drudges up a smile in return. "Hey. Some night last night, huh?" He draws his legs up close and curls his arms about his knees.

Glass nods, "Yeah." He stretches a little, looks around. "Anybody mad?"

Trace shakes his head sadly. "Not at you. I-I pissed everybody off, though. They all feel sorry for you, Walker 'specially, even though I don't get why."

Glass blinks, "What did you do?"

Trace sighs and looks up to the little greyish stiples on the ceiling, his braids slipping away from his face a little and gathering in front of his ears. "Same's you. But, y'know, I guess... Hell, I dunno. It didn't used to bother Jason, but it does now. I'm not sure what changed... Usedta hear me talk 'bout it and not bat an eye, and suddenly... did ya see how he looked last night?" He drops his head again, staring moodily at his knees. "Well, no, I guess you didn't."

Glass shakes his head, "I don't remember seeing him." He frowns a bit, "Why should they be mad at you and not me?"

Trace lifts his shoulders very faintly. "S'how it is. I guess it's just... you had a reason, y'know? You were upset. I wasn't upset. I hadn't had no reason at all. It's just..." He gives a frustrated sigh, yanking his fingers through his braids. "Everything's fucked up right now."

Glass lies back on the beanbag again. "I'm always upset."

Trace's expression softens, and he extracts his fingers from his frazzled braids to look over at you. He uncurls a bit and sits closer, reaching out -- hesitently -- to brush a wisp of hair out of your eyes. "I know... I know. We talked about it some, Batiste and me. We just wish so bad sometimes we could... make you happy. And sometimes we can, but maybe it's all just skin deep. Nothin' lasts with you..."

A flicker of a smile crosses Doug's features, then is gone. He nods, "Yeah. I know. Nothing is ever enough." He shrugs a little, "Well, junk is. Sort of."

Trace shakes his head faintly. "Not for me... not anymore, not for me. I-I felt *terrible* last night. Before, I mean. And after. This morning especially, I just..." He shifts his gaze down to the little packet by his works and admits quietly, "I nearly flushed it this morning, I swear to god. I still might." But he gives a soft sigh and reaches out for it, tucking the little packet into his pocket. He gets up and picks up the various equipment, candle, syringe, spoon, water bottle, cotton ball... It all gets carted back to the squeaky drawer he's claimed throughout his stay in Walker's home.

Glass looks at you, "Really? Why?"

"Fucks up our triangle," is the blue-haired boy's cryptic response. "Look, I gotta... talk to someone. But I'll be back. You gonna be okay?" He slants a look your way.

Glass frowns, "Tell me."

Trace turns once his stuff is put away, parting his hands defensively. "What's there to 'splain? Jason wants me to. Batiste does it too, but he don't got a problem. I... I do." He breathes out a breath like a sigh. "I've admitted that to them before. Nothin' new. So." He lowers his eyes. "It's just... It's startin' t'look like I'm gonna lose the two most important t'me, so maybe... I mean, I always said I'd give it up when I needed to, and I thought it'd be like, y'know, a girl or something. But lately..." He shoves his thumbs into his pockets. "Lately I think... maybe it's them."

Glass nods. "Yeah. It's the same thing. They want you to be theirs and not Henry's. Like Shay wants. Like De wants. They say anything?"

Trace nods, "Just Jason, just... a little. But it had me scared. He's good with... pickin' words that dig right in. Anyway... I gotta talk to him now. But I'll be back." He sighs. "Probably won't come t'nothin'... I'm not changin' nothin' til the mural's done anyhow. But I just...I gotta talk to him, I can't leave things like they were last night. Y'shoulda... seen the way he looked at me."

Glass nods, "I'm sorry." He lies back, "I'll be okay."

Trace heads down the steps quickly.

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