Somewhat Damaged
Part Seven
Somewhat Damaged
Part Seven
Seifer woke up with a start, some already forgotten dream waking him. The clock on his bedroom wall said that it was three in the morning.
"Well, good to see that you’re getting a good night’s sleep," he told himself, getting out of bed. He knew he probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.
It was cold, the December chill going to his bones. He wasn’t as cold as he would have been a few months ago, when he hadn’t had any body fat left. Seifer now was almost back to his original form, thanks to Raijin, who would drag him to the gym every day.
Raijin had said, "Come on, ya know?! You’re starting to look gross. I’m taking you to the gym with me, ya know?!"
Seifer’s reply was, "Why do I want to look like a muscle bound idiot?"
"Shut up, ya know?! You’ve been getting worse since you came back from Timber, ya know?!"
It had been three months since his trip to Timber. It had only been one day, but that one day had severely taken its toll on Seifer. He felt emotionally drained and physically tired. He also was losing sleep. His dreams were always about Squall, and it was torturing him to want something so badly that he couldn’t have. He did have to admit that he felt better about being healthy again. He didn’t cringe when he saw his reflection, now. Not at his appearance, anyway.
Seifer wrapped his blankets around him and went out to the living room. He was in the mood for Christmas shopping, and cursed the gods for not having the stores open now. He pulled out his laptop, turning it on. He figured he may as well do something productive, like download porn. He never actually use the porn for sexual gratification, mainly because there wasn’t any porn out there that could fulfill his one desire. Unless Squall had done something naughty. He would just send it to Raijin and laugh when he would get in trouble for opening it in the public library on seniors’ day without knowing what it was. This had happened on more than one occasion. It figured that Raijin wouldn’t learn from his mistakes.
He opened his email, and felt warmth among the cold as he noticed that Squall had written him. He decided to save that for last, opening one from Quistis first. Emails between Seifer and his former Balamb friends were always just pages of one-line replies. He opened her email, smiling.
Quistis: Hi Seifer. Hopefully you get this. Squall forgot to take the piece of paper with your stuff out of his pocket, and it got messed up in the wash.
Seifer: Well, I obviously got the message.
Quistis: I see that.
Seifer: I’m glad to see that we can have such a stimulating conversation.
Quistis: You have to be part of our gang.
Seifer: What gang is this? Will it require some sort of violent rites of passage?
Quistis: No.
Seifer: Damn. No paddling?
Quistis: I could see how Zell feels about it.
Seifer: Zell’s in it? Wow, this gang must be desperate for members.
Quistis: LOL! Zell’s telling you to fuck yourself.
Seifer: Okay. Tell him I’m doing it now. So, what is this gang thing anyway?
Quistis: We’re the new Village of the Damned.
Seifer: ??
Quistis: Nice reply. Man, the worst thing just happened. Zell’s mother died. She had a heart attack. The funeral’s tomorrow.
Seifer: Shit. That’s awful. Tell Zell I’m sorry. Anyway, why me?
Quistis: It’s a long story. And it starts with Zell being an idiot, and I was shitting on him, and he said you and I must be related, and it kind of snowballed from there.
Seifer: Doesn’t every story start out with Zell being and idiot?
Quistis: Pretty much. Anyway, since we’re blonde and blue eyed, we’re the Village of the Damned.
Seifer: That’s only three of us, though. Pretty crappy club. It sounds like the starts of a KKK thing. Only blonde and blue eyes allowed.
Quistis: It’s not like that.
Seifer: White power!
Quistis: Stop that!
Seifer: What’s the point of being in this club?
Quistis: Prestige.
Seifer: Ahhh, the ability to make all my co-workers jealous, eh?
Quistis: Exactly.
Seifer: Count me in, but only if I get to beat up Zell.
Quistis: Deal. He’s telling you to fuck yourself again.
Seifer: I’m way ahead of him. Is he always there when you’re reading your mail?
Quistis: Pretty much. He thrives on making himself a nuisance. Well, I guess it’s more productive than him scratching his ass all day.
Seifer: Oh, come on. That’s the most productive thing anyone can do.
Quistis: What about building bridges and stuff?
Seifer: What, engineering? Damn, how did you become a teacher??
Quistis: Shut up.
Seifer: Ah, I see. You did it the old fashioned way.
Quistis: You are terrible! I can just picture you with that damn grin on your face.
Seifer: I’m grinning now. And anyway, back on topic. Every engineer would rather be scratching themselves than building bridges and such.
Quistis: This is the strangest topic I’ve ever heard.
Seifer: And our master race gang isn’t?
Quistis: Shut up.
Seifer: Besides, it wouldn’t be a good master race if they were all like Zell.
Quistis: Ha, ha. Everyone would eat hot dogs.
Seifer smiled and thought for a second of a reply. He then wrote: ‘So, that’s what happened to all the pigeons and the old shoes that people leave in the gutter….’
He smirked and sent it. Next, he opened his letter from Zell.
Zell: You suck.
Seifer: Thank you so much.
Zell: You’re welcome.
Seifer: Is that all you have to say, pussy boy?
Zell: Don’t call me that.
Seifer: Fuckwad.
Zell: Dumbass.
Seifer: Cocksucker.
Zell: From what I hear.. you’re the cocksucker.
Seifer: What’s that supposed to mean?
Zell: Faggot.
Seifer: Whoa. That’s hitting a little low, isn’t it?
Zell: Dingleberry.
Seifer: Was that supposed to be insulting? Man, I just heard about your mom. I’m really sorry, Zell.
Zell: Yeah, sure you are.
Seifer: You doubt my sincerity? I may be emotionally dead, but I’m not that dead.
Zell: Thanks, asshole.
Seifer: I’m trying to be sympathetic, and you’re spewing insults…
Zell: I appreciate it.
Seifer: Good. What’s with the Village of the Damned thing?
Zell: Ah! It’s just one of those things that started off as an amusingly stupid point of conversation, and it’s totally gotten out of hand. Are you in?
Seifer: Can we make up logos and shit?
Zell: Sure. We should have golf shirts.
Seifer: I don’t golf.
Zell: Neither do we. What’s your point, you blob of refuse.
Seifer: Ooooh, a blob, am I?
Zell: Yeah, fatty.
Seifer: Fat? You’re the one who fucking eats hot dogs constantly!
Zell: Your point being?
Seifer: You’re fatter than I am. I’m the anorexic looking one, remember. Well, that’s not really true any more.
Zell: See? You’re fat.
Seifer: Shut up.
Zell: Child molester.
Seifer: ??? Okay. I don’t even know how to respond to that.
Zell: Because you are one.
Seifer: This is getting really childish. Oh, yeah. Takes one to know one! And you broke my GI Joe!
Zell: Fine. I’ll take the little girls, you can have the little boys.
Seifer: Huh? Fuck, I hope you don’t reproduce.
Zell: My kids would be great!
Seifer then responded by writing: ‘Yeah, and ugly, too.’
Seifer sent that one, and then decided to check what Squall had written. He almost didn’t like to read mail from Squall. It brought up feelings that he was now trying to bury again. Since his trip to Timber, he had tried not to think about Squall, tried to move on, but it wasn’t really working that well. He sighed and blinked, the screen becoming blurry for a moment as he read.
Squall: Hi. I don’t know if this is the right email address. If you’re Siefer, this is to you.
Seifer: I’m Seifer. I don’t know who this ‘Siefer’ person is.
Squall: Oh, good. Now I’m being belittled.
Seifer: Well, the least you could do is spell my name right!
Squall: It was a typo!!!!
Seifer: How would you feel if I wrote you as Sqaulll?
Squall: I wouldn’t be jumping down your throat, if that’s what you mean.
Seifer: I’m just teasing you. Did you lose your sense of humour?
Squall: Did you hear about Zell’s mother?
Seifer: Yeah. He didn’t believe me when I told him I was sorry.
Squall: He’s just being an idiot. But this whole thing has made me think… you know, about my own life and whatnot.
Seifer: Yeah, that whatnot can be a bitch. Well, I’m always thinking about mortality and all that shit, so now you know how I feel.
Squall: But I value my life. You don’t seem to.
Seifer: What, value your life?
Squall: No, your own.
Seifer: I guess I don’t. I wonder what the point is.
Squall: You’re so depressing.
Seifer: You were the one that brought it up! How are …things?
Squall: ..things? you sound so cloak and dagger. If you mean how are things between myself and Rinoa….it’s been better. But it’s been worse, too.
Seifer: Worse as in when I was around?
Squall: Don’t. I know where you’re going with this.
Seifer: Well, I have this feeling that Rinoa is glad that I’m not in Balamb anymore.
Squall: Why would you think that? Maybe she thinks you’re still in love with her.
Seifer: I was never in love with her. I liked her, but I never loved her.
Squall: Maybe a pretty face brought you in. I’m starting to think that that’s what happened to me, too. Things aren’t what they used to be, you know? All we do is fight. And it sometimes seems like it’s getting better, but that’s all a veneer… the whole thing makes me tired.
Seifer: Relationships have those moments. But they work themselves out. What am I talking about? I don’t know anything about relationships. All of mine are meaningless.
Squall: Not all of them.
Seifer: All the sexual ones are. But sex isn’t everything….. (making face right now)
Squall: How would I know? (glaring at Rinoa right now)
Seifer: She still won’t sleep with you? Maybe she wants to wait until you’re married or something.
Squall: Did you ever get anywhere with her?
Seifer: That was different. You guys have a long-term relationship. I touched her tit once and she hit me. Hmmm, it’s been a long time since I’ve touched any tits.
Squall: Me, too. And there’s a pair right there!!! So, what are you doing for Christmas? I don’t want to talk about Rinoa any more.
Seifer: Nothing. I will be spending the commercial excuse to buy gifts alone. Raijin and Fujin are going to his family’s in Dollet. Are you going to Esthar to spend it with Laguna? I can’t imagine Rinoa coming here to see her father.
Squall: Yeah, she’s coming with me. Hopefully things aren’t so tense by then.
Seifer: It’s only a week away. By the way, I got your present today.
Squall: What is it?
Seifer: A teapot.
Squall: I don’t like tea.
Seifer: I know. Man, I kinda just want this whole season to end. It’s totally depressing, especially when I have no family or friends to spend it with. I’ll just be sitting at home sneering at the sappiness of holiday cheer and mocking the falseness of its kindness.
Squall: Sounds like a full schedule. You sound so cynical.
Seifer: Maybe I am. Being cynical is better than being lonely, which I am anyway. Fuck, I’ve dug quite the emotional hole for myself.
Squall: Why do you do this to yourself? You sound like an add for psychiatric help.
Seifer sighed. He did sound pathetic and neurotic. But that’s how he felt. Maybe it was just when he was talking to Squall. Seifer was letting things consume him again, and the loneliness he felt only intensified it. He paused, not sure of how to reply to Squall. He couldn’t just write ‘I can love you so much better than Rinoa ever could.’ It might sound a tad needy and strange.
He responded by writing; ‘I’ve always been a walking psyche case. But at least I don’t have bugs on me.’
That wasn’t anything close to what Seifer had wanted to say, but this way, he could stay in his shell and try to pretend that it didn’t hurt. That he didn’t hurt, that he wasn’t suffering. A flash of words passed through his mind, the words of Ultimecia. Her hypnotic voice still had its vice-like control over him, still held power, exploited Seifer’s weaknesses. His problems with Squall were only a stretched skin over the real problems, the problems that were killing him.
Seifer sighed, ready to turn off the laptop when the beep went off, declaring he had just gotten another email. It was from Zell. He opened it, curious as to what it was. It was only midnight in Balamb.
Zell: My children would not be ugly. Anyway, what are you still doing up? Isn’t it like 3 am in Deling? Go to sleep, young man. Look at your phone.
Seifer furrowed his brow in confusion. It rang, causing him to jump out of his chair in surprise. He closed his laptop and answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Surprise!"
"Why are you calling? It’s three in the morning!"
Zell laughed. "Did I get you out of bed?"
"Yes…"
"Whatever. Look, Quistis wanted me to call you."
"Do you do everything she asks?" Seifer’s voice had a teasing note to it.
"Shut up! She wanted me to call to see if you still are going to be sitting at home on Christmas."
"As a matter of fact, I will be. Why?"
"Look, can Quistis tell you? I have to go to the bathroom."
"Why didn’t you go before you called me, stupid?"
Zell sighed. "Shut up!"
There was a pause before Quistis answered on the other end. "Seifer?"
"Yes. Who else would it be?"
Quistis made a rude noise. "Listen. I was wondering how you would feel about us coming to see you for the holidays?"
"Why?"
"Well, I hate to think of you rotting there by yourself, getting lost in depression. And don’t deny it. You’ll do it, too. Besides, this is the first Christmas where Zell doesn’t have his mother. It could be a Children of the Corn Christmas."
"That sounds like a bad horror movie."
"Come on! We could even stay at a hotel if you don’t want us at your apartment… We don’t have anywhere to go, either."
"So, I’m a last resort?"
"That’s not what I meant, and you know it."
Seifer sighed. "Yeah, I know. I don’t have a choice in this, do I?"
"No."
"Fine. But you’ll have to stay at my house. The hotel is a fucking rip-off."
"Great! When should we come?"
"Well, tomorrow is my last day at work, and then I get vacation. So you can come after that. How about Wednesday?"
"That sounds good. I’ll have to get a train and stuff…"
"So, call me when you get all the details."
"Fine. See ya. And go to bed!"
"Yes, mother." He hung up, feeling surprisingly happy. He felt better when he was around the old Balamb crew, but Seifer knew deep within that this happiness would be fleeting. Having a few laughs at Zell’s expense and talking about nothing could only be comforting for a short time, and his original problems would rear their ugly heads, ruining him as they did.
A part of him was actually glad that Squall wasn’t coming. It would be too painful, being around him and not being able to have him. He shuffled to his room, knowing that he had to get at least a little sleep. He did have to work the next day, and he still had to find presents for people. He curled up in his bed, the sheets cold, as cold as Seifer’s soul. He closed his eyes, drifting into restless sleep.