Guys Like Me - A Logan/Duncan Veronica Mars RPG

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Subject:	there's no chance of losing when there's no chance at all
Time:	03:34 am
Current Mood:	cynical

It's like doing a disappearing act. There I am and there I'm not. I'm standing at Coronado Bridge, the same spot of my mom's disappearance - her own act - and I look down on the ledge of the bridge into the deep murky waters of the ocean.

I think about how salty it must be. Between the alcohol and the dark of the night I can't tell how deep it goes. I don't know how long it would take for me to plunge into the icy waters - but she does. My mom does. I think about how maybe she stood here waiting for the wind to blow her over into that sort of grave. Another part of me still thinks that maybe, just maybe, she's not there at all. I fondle my flask in one hand and in the other is that damned lighter. I run my fingers over the carving. Free At Last.

I think about how great it must be to be free.

Let's face it. Me and Mom, neither of us went through the war. We just might as well have. The inscribed words into the Zippo's metal were like a mantra for her, they were something to look forward to. Yeah, grandpa escaped from his war captors and mom escaped from hers. I feel sick though, like the alcohol in my belly might come up and spread over the pavement in the form of liquid vomit. I feel sick because I haven't escaped, not yet.

Veronica Mars was almost my way. I could see the path clear with some perfect rock carved out like a sign leading towards an exit. Or, as my dad would say, exit stage left. It just turns out to all be camouflage in the end, doesn't it. All of this is just an act.

I teeter. I dare my balance to slip from this ledge. Chardonnay and sleeping pills, I think. Dignified, but maybe not as dramatic as mom wanted her exit to be.

When contemplating one's own ending, one has to contemplating the endings of others. Final exit, curtain closing. What is the best way to go?

Now, Mom obviously took the bridge. I look at it this way. She went into water and the ocean leaves everywhere. World is 3/4ths water and she can go where ever the hell she wants. She chose to leave and that aches more than a little inside.

Lilly didn't even choose. She was bashed in the head by a blunt object and then she just wasn't there. She just left. I still remember Veronica's breathy sweet voice telling me at my front doorstep in tears that she was gone. Murdered, is the word. I remember thinking how it was all just one sick joke. Nice Lilly, dramatic too. C'mon, where are you hiding? All over a love sick goodbye note and a shot glass from Tijuana. I'm still waiting for that joke to start being funny.

Veronica and Duncan... they didn't die, but they still left. They went really far away. I think that if I jump I'll just sink. I won't go anywhere. Jesus Christ, I just want my best friend to find me. Is that so much to ask for?

I want my best friend to find me but I'm ignoring the fact that I can hear my cell ring. I teeter on one foot this time. Adversity is the diamond dust with which Heaven polishes its jewels. Bullshit, I say as I sprinkle some of the contents of my flask into the water below. Here, mom, it isn't Chardonnay, but it's something.

I take another swig from the contents of the flask before turning at the sound of motorcyclists. Yeah, now there's something. Something real and not made up even if it's entirely consumed with hate and disgust.

I laugh because I'm drunk and I can't think of much else to do when faced with the latino circus in front of me. "Seriously, what do you-what do you think you can do to me, huh?"

"I'll think of something" Weevil tells me and my smile only widens.

Come hither, Eli Navarro.

When they take me down, after I get about the sum of one kick or punch in, I don't feel much of anything - just heat where they land their own shoes or fists. That's all I feel until it goes dark.

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November 3rd, 2005