Re: Cat & Reece, one of the front sections.
[He was happy to see Reece. Alright, so they'd fought, and Cat was feeling somewhat and especially tender at the moment, which he hated. He didn't hate that he felt that way, but he hated that he minded, and he knew better than to try to wipe away old damage with a new cloth, but it was still frustrating. What good was seeing all the tripping points and yet still tripping? Whatever, whatever, because here they were, forward to the past, and Reece's arm was a welcome thing. It was acceptance in its heaviness, and Cat found that he had a million ready questions bubbling at slight boy-lips and ready to tumble and fill the small compartment of the plane. But, right, later, because not here, and it wasn't that he didn't trust Steph. He trusted Steph with everything, and he was even beginning to develop a newfound fondness for Timmy. It was like the island of misfit toys, and there they all were, misfits and together, but not now. Now, Cat bit at Reece's shoulder, and the music was only playing in one of his ears, and Reece was talking.]
No. I know it's that movie about the sweet transvestite from transsexual Transylvanian, though. [Cat knew shit, alright? He was old, and Jersey had been devoid of pop culture and enjoyment, but he'd also spent the last year in virtual seclusion with a pop culture junkie that lived off video games and media. Netflix was a treasure trove of education when one's world was a comfortable couch, but the question was still surprising.] Are you going to compare me to Tim Curry? [Green eyes narrowed a little, and Cat poked Reece in the side.] Don't. Under pain of, you know, death. [A little light? Sure, but why not? Why did everything forever and always need to weigh a fucking ton?]