Chimney Swift
i am confusion
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MOOD: Dying inside
LOCATION: The Calvet Residence -> Town Hall
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basics
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MENTIONS:
Liz PenguinFox
Harper Dazzle
INT:
Noémie LooneyLani
Graham Dazzle
Ivy @me
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tags
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TL;DR
Max bit off more than he can chew, and he knows it, but he's going to do this stupid thing anyway because a promise is a promise.
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tl;dr
Max Berkowitz
Give until it hurts
The walk to the town hall with Noémie was long, bitterly cold, and plagued by the pounding headache that seemed to rattle Max's poor brain around in his skull.
He had his bike lock looped over his shoulder, his phone and keys safely in his pockets, but he had the lingering ominous feeling that he was forgetting something. Thinking too hard about it hurt, so he let the thought slide off, trying to ease his addled mind by watching the red and orange leaves overhead flutter in the wind and drift to the ground. New England was known for its beautiful autumn foliage, and Max was always one to appreciate it when it came around. It was one of those things that made him happy he wound up here, and though he'd never let on to it, he needed that right now. He had a lot to worry about, even aside from the protest he had gotten himself into.
Isa was gone, and her last words to Max threatened that she might have plans to hurt herself or disappear never to return.
Tatum and Maxine were pissed at him... for good reason, perhaps. He may or may not have snapped at them for being stoic about the situation and called them bad friends.
...Yeah. Looking back on that, Max could see why that was uncalled for. He'd have to find some time later to apologize for being a dick.
But the point stood that he was worried, more worried than he ever had been about anything ever in his whole life. Terrified that he was on the brink of losing a friend, and terrified all the more that there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.
Max hated feeling helpless. It was tantamount, in his eyes, to being useless. If he couldn't do anything to help people, they didn't really need him around, did they?
He could have sworn he felt his heart stopping and starting like a broken microwave, sweat pricking the back of his neck, but he kept his head high and his face neutral, eyes steadily cast up towards the town hall as they finally arrived at the cold and imposing building.
Chin up, Max. You're fine. Imagining his own hands in his head as usual, chiding himself for wanting to back out of his little rebellion against the town. After everything you said? No. Finish what you started.
If Max promised to do something, it would get done.
Even if he knew, in his heart of hearts, that it was pretty stupid and likely to get him and everyone else involved in a lot of trouble.
Two younger kids, holding signs and talking, were already stationed by the door at the top of the steps. Max recognized Graham, Hartfield's beloved football mascot. The other was a girl with dark hair who looked more like a middle school kid than a high schooler. She was one of the public school kids, Max guessed. Anyway, he was glad to have some more people on his side, at least. He waved up at them, forcing a confident smile. "Thanks for showing up so early!" He signed without thinking about it, his face dropping just as soon as his middle finger slid from the back of his right hand.
Fucking stupid, Max.
He should've remembered that the friend who usually volunteered to interpret for him was volunteering for something else this morning.
He backtracked, shrugging sheepishly. "...Nice signs!" He voiced out loud, fighting off the feeling of resentment at having to do so. Obviously it wasn't anyone's fault, it was just... really annoying. Not his favorite skill to have to employ.
In the presence of other people, Max suddenly felt very awkward and alone. He realized now that it would be a challenge to communicate with most of these people. He had Noémie and Liz, but Harper was usually his interpreter. She wouldn't be here-- she'd promised her time to the soup kitchen, as had most of the other high school kids. God, why hadn't Max done the same?
Who did he think he was, trying to organize things?
Max had stopped, lost in his own thoughts, staring blankly up at the doors in front of him when he came back to his senses. Oh, no. Here we go. He stalked up the steps, coming face to face with the set of large wooden double doors he'd be stuck on for the foreseeable future.
Disrupt the day. Keep everyone out, long enough to draw the attention of the police and the press. Let them know what we have to say. Let them know that Parish Point needs to change.
Before someone gets hurt.
Max realized, on some level, that this was about more than just yesterday's whale incident for him. He'd known, for a long time, that Parish Point's youth were suffering in underfunded schools, an ongoing substance abuse problem that affected some of his close friends... hell, even the party last night showcased how all those kids used alcohol to cope, even turning to violence... at least in Ryan's case. And no one seemed to care. Certainly not the people who claimed to keep the town safe and orderly.
Yep, there it was. That was why he had to do this.
With the first breath of genuine confidence he'd had all morning, Max slid his bike chain off his shoulder, looped it between the door handles and his upper arm, and locked himself into place.
It would be quite a chore for anyone to break him off without damaging the doors. Or his arm. Would the cops break a 16-year-old activist's arm over disturbing the peace?
Probably.
Max cringed at the thought, but glanced back at Noémie and nodded hesitantly in a reassuring gesture that was more for himself than anyone else.
You should've assigned a co-organizer, dumbass.
You thought you could do this by yourself?
He awkwardly slid his hand into his pocket, in a weak attempt to appear casual and in charge.
Maybe they'd attract some attention from passers-by? Maybe Noémie or Liz could help talk people into joining or listening in? He really should've thought about how he was going to communicate with his own damn group.
He felt sick.
Should've thought of that before you went and got drunk like an idiot. Who accidentally gets drunk!? Stupid.
code by valen t.