Bar Red's Redemption Extra

p h o n e. c a l l. p t. 2

"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter- they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long."
― Sylvia Plath

SORRY this is late. I felt so bad last night (started my period - yikes) and got distracted by my wife, whom I am very in love with, so you can't blame me, but still. Anyways, here's the prequel before last chapter :))

extra chapter
phone call AU pt.2
"photo reveal"

Sometimes, Bar wishes his mind would just stay still.

All his life, it's moved too fast. It hopped from thing to things, hoping to escape the boredom or pain that sinks into moments when his brain isn't occupied by something-something he could allow himself to get lost into without losing himself in the process, too.

When he was younger, he wasn't... the best kid, he seemed to get into more trouble than not with the always moving, always fighting, always on the go.

He just didn't understand why he couldn't be content in the mundane things like most people his age, why he was always fidgeting and interrupting and how he could understand so much but still be considered one of the slower kids in class even when he seemed to move so fast too often.

He thought-he thought he was broken.

He thought there was something wrong with him.

Then he was diagnosed with PTSD and got help, got away from his dad, and things made sense and everything seemed okay for a while. He did good in school, he made friends-mostly online, mostly who he could hide from least he seem like too much.

That's what Bar is terrified of: seeming like too much. So often in his life he was told that he's too loud, that he has too many opinions or speaks too much about weird things or was just weird in general.

That no one could match his intensity, that no one could keep up with him because he's just...

He's just too much, but not enough.

Maybe that's why, in the back of his mind, the brute is oh-so-terrified of the prospect of meeting Clementine. Or, really, just his little goddess in general.

Because he wants-and always have wanted-her to like him so, so badly. He wanted to be friends, then they were friends and then they were best friends and he learned that the girl has always been herself and is not afraid to show that.

She's a private person with both her affection and with her opinions; when something is honestly important to her, or she wants something, Clementine Astoria is not afraid to ask for it or to get it for herself.

She's always reminded Bar of a cat that way.

And Bar? Oh god, he's like a kicked puppy.

He wants attention, and he is far from shy about that and he's not afraid to act all clingy or to announce that he loves someone, but at the same time he has gotten used to rejection over the years and would not willingly venture into a conversation that could give him the potential of getting hurt.

He overthinks too much.

He doesn't like the thoughts that come after midnight or how words seem to whisper from his walls or how silent his room is when his mind is too loud.

He doesn't like the far-away voices and all too familiar memories.

He doesn't like how he panics when there is no reason to panic.