calories | sally face (rewrite)

4 | bug-eyed

hey!! so for those of you who chose to skip the last chapter because of the trigger warnings i left, essentially what happened was that sal came home before his dad did and ended up eating mindlessly in an attempt to distract himself from negative self talk and whatnot. he ended up binging on an entire box of cereal, and panicked. he purged it in his guilt and promised himself he wouldnt do it again (hmm). this chapter is sorta filler, just for fun :)

when i say just for fun i mean i had fun writing it. it will not be fun for you, probably. it contains recreational drug use (it's weed don't worry), very slight talk of trauma, and nightmares. during the nightmare, there is also some description of hospitals and some gore and bugs, as well as a description of a dead person.

stay safe out there <3 my messages are open to anyone who needs a safe space.

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Sal knew Larry's room like the palm of his hand. The paint streaks on his dresser. The Rolling Stones poster that was slowly falling off the wall. The string lights around his mirror that barely worked anymore. The slight crack in the corner of his mirror that neither of them know how it got there.

The room breathed slightly as he watched the smoke he blew float up towards the ceiling. The pot churned in him in a way that was comforting, soothing. Silencing.

"Feeling alright, little guy?" There was a chuckle to Larry's words. Sal nodded. "Good shit."

Larry laughed. The sound was sudden and warm, but slightly hazed from the weed. Sal giggled.

"Hey, Sal."

"Hmmm?"

"Why'd you and your dad move to Nockfell? Of all places?"

"Cheap rent, quiet town. You know." There was a guarded stiffness to his voice.

"Sure, but all the surrounding places have pretty decent rents. And they're bigger, but still sorta sleepy. So?"

"I don't know the exact reason," he said after a moment's pause. "I wasn't totally in on it. But he said he felt... drawn to the town. Whatever that means. We really just wanted somewhere we could get away from all the shit that happened back in Jersey."

"Yeah, I get that." It was quiet for a bit other than Sal's calm breath. "With all the stuff that's happened, do you ever wish that... y'know, you didn't come to Nockfell?"

Sal sat up, left eye glazed and thoughts churning behind it. "Well. Maybe sometimes." Larry frowned. "Lar, it's more complicated than just deadass wishing I never came. I met you, and Ash, and Todd. You guys are the best friends I ever had since before mom died.

"But the shit that's happened since I moved in. It's just plain fucked. We're all gonna be living with the trauma of what happened in Addison for the rest of our lives. So on one hand, yeah, I wish I moved somewhere else. But on the other, it's not that bad. And even if I didn't move in, that stuff would've happened regardless, you know? You guys would have had to deal with all the ghosts and shit by yourselves."

Larry nodded, unsure of what else there was to say about it. Sal flopped back down onto the beanbag, and dust flew out into the air from the impact. "Now quit asking weird questions. Just answering that took, like, all of my brainpower."

"Yeah." He chuckled and looked up at the popcorn ceiling. "Got the munchies yet?"

"Dude, fuck yes."

"All right. Stay here, I'll be right back." He headed for the door with a small pat on Sal's head.

The door shut gently. Sal heard him rustle around in the kitchen, humming a tune that he didn't really recognize, couldn't name, but sounded familiar anyway.