Who: Dot and Bly What: Running into each other Where: Bathos When: Sometime earlier today Warnings: None
He was so totally late. Like. Into the realm of "going to lose his internship because he failed" late. So beyond late, really. If "late" was the Earth, he was orbiting somewhere around Pluto, freezing his ass off in the bitter cold of the world's unmitigated cruelty. Anton was going to kick his ass and make him reverse engineer something impossible because he was late. Or give him a beer. Or something else that was terrible. He didn't know. he didn't want to know. He was going to die. He knew it, he just didn't know how, and the impending horribleness of the situation was a black blight on his soul.
"Black like death," he muttered, grabbing his iPod as he hurried to the door. He spun his finger around it, searching for a decent playlist. Something that would reflect his imminent demise. He settled for Highway to Hell as he slammed his door shut behind him and quickly locked it. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, he ran down the stairs as he shoved the earbuds into his ears and turned up the volume. One flight, then two, then three. He jumped the railing to save time twice, and landed with a thud on the lobby level. Flinging open the door, he hurried into the lobby proper and promptly smacked into someone.
He flailed. Like a drowning lemur, he spun his arms and teetered back and forth before finally landing on his ass. It hurt like hell. Eff his life, he was going to be even more late, and he'd have a bruise on his ass and he'd have to explain that to Anton when he got there. "Why can't you sit down, Bly?" Anton would ask. "Because a hot girl bruised my ass," he reply. Wait, shit, no. He couldn't say that. There was nothing good about putting it that way. This is why you can't have nice things, he told himself as he scrambled to his feet and pulled the earbuds out.
"Are you okay, man?" he asked the girl. She really was smoking, even if she was his age. God, what was with all the girls in this apartment? Why were they all gorgeous? "I'm so sorry, I'm in a hurry, and I didn't see you. Are you okay?" He wasn't okay, but he didn't need to say that. She didn't need to know he was going to die. Wait. Maybe he could play his cards right and get a kiss or something. Didn't women think men who were about to die were hot or something? Shit. He needed to talk to that guy on the forum. Kevin? No, that wasn't right. B-something. Bernard? No. Blaine? Closer. Blake. Yes, Blake. He needed to talk to him. About girls. And kissing them. Shit.