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TELL ME WHY

Ain't nothin' but a mistake

Tell me why

I never wanna hear you say

I want it that way

[ See, at first? There was fury. But after the countless smaller anger-inducing things this month on top of how exhausting the whole month has been, the song itself doesn't rate. He stands, half-asleep, at the entrance of Fantasy Costco, bracer blaring Backstreet Boys on autotune, the sweet scraping melodies of Microsoft Mary overlaid with the harmony of Garfield losing his shit.

A few minutes in, another harmony of Alex singing joins the symphony. And that? That is the moment where the patience snaps. A repentance collection is in order.

So when Alex finishes his song, belting out the last note with all the power of Nick Carter's adolescent vocal chords, he turns in place to meet a placid smile and a bracer being held up. A single red dot blinking innocently. ]

Hello, Alex. I figured out how to turn voice-to-text off.

[ Or not-so-innocently. ]

[ Alex really did mean to follow the sound. He did. It carried well enough, and he's got those young, spry ears...or something. But about halfway through the second chorus the fugue state he's been in since he started realizing Candlenights was Christmas and oh fucking goddamn shit he hadn't gotten anything for anyone two days ago and there's no fucking magic and fdoasidsfsakfew

So he starts singing into a rolled up poster (when did he pick this up...?) while heaving bag after bag of findings, and right into that third chorus, he loses all control and forgets where he is.

You know what last Christmas was like? He was planning a trip to Paris, to finally put everything to rest, and he had dinner with his parents and his girlfriend, who he poorly serenaded with whatever dumb love song he could find. So...yeah. He gets lost in the moment, maybe a little willingly, leaning into it and belting out the bridge with passion. Trying to sing every part of the final chorus, jumping from lyric to lyric.

The bags have fallen to the ground by the time he's done. The dumb, euphoric energy sort of evaporates; Clear would've shoved him and covered his mouth and made a big show of hating it, so he knows it's just a little daydream. ]

[ However. He gets a very different rude awakening. ]

Oh motherfucking shitfuck.

[ And he leaps for the bracer. That is attached to Will's arm. ]

[ That narration is deeply hurtful and this narration is mad about it. Alas, Will doesn't have meta privileges anymore and Alex makes the mistake of jumping into close combat range against a murder specialist.

But it's Christmas and he has a date with Lion later. Must be merciful. The hand with the bracer pulls back while the metal arm is put in the way instead, effectively guaranteeing Alex will smack himself on that instead. ]

Watch the language.

[ Alex smacks into the metal arm nose-first, guaranteeing a Christmas gift to Garfield of blood on the Fantasy Costco floor.

...That's probably a bad thing. ]

Fuck, damn it!

[ He does not watch the language. ]

[ There's no feedback from the oath and no feedback from his dead nerves, so Alex smashing his face is written off. Until the bleeding starts. Was it that hard? Did he break his nose??? oh god healing isn't working and magic isn't working (he isn't working) so if it has to be re-set manually he's going to be a mess-

more of a mess-

maybe it's just he hit a blood vessel too hard?? please be that he hit a blood vessel too hard- ] Lean your head forward.

I know how to deal with a bloody nose, Will!! [ look at all that emphasis

Alex immediately starts waving the fretting mother hen away and blinks his slightly watering eyes. ] Just- shit, this place has everything, just find me some tissues, I'll pay for 'em.

[ That last bit is to...oh, yeah, Garfield the Deals Warlock is here, and he's...laughing. That's great. The fucking cat is laughing at him.

Great holiday. ]

[ I'll pay for 'em, he says, to the person who is not only rich but also hyper-prepared for things. It's less a tissue, but a black handkerchief gets offered with absolute neutrality. ]

And get lost in the store again? Pass.

[ And why is Garfield here, ugh. He gets a glare before Alex gets spun around and (somewhat) politely guided out of the aisle. ] Come on. Next aisle. Why are you here this late, anyway.

[ ...Oh, a handkerchief, that. That's easier, okay, Alex takes that and just sort of stumbles along, before- ]

Wait, lemme grab my shit-- [ He says, and by that he means just. Just so many bags, that he'd left on the floor when he'd gone all-in on his budding pop star career. ] --fuck's it look like I'm doing, I'm shopping.

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