MOTIVATION? WOAH!
CW // intrusive thoughts, (the narrator is more of a voice in his head but i think it counts) lots of swearing
FUN FACT - This chapter has dialogue that alludes to racism somewhat jokingly! Groovy! /sar
(I'm latino, so technically I can make those jokes, since they're just about being latino/hispanic, or more specifically, being Mexican.)
He/him for Jack, any pronouns for Dave :]
—
Jack sat down in the cheap booth seat. He was wearing his finest suit– albeit the suit itself not being 'fine' in any way– to see Dave. The 'elusive aubergine' as he called himself. Jack made sure to look as presentable as possible. (The Narrator had offered him the choice to wear a ratty tee and jorts, but he was better than that.) He combed his short hair back, applied extra orange makeup, and even washed his hands for once!
[That's...gross, how you never wash your hands.]
The Narrator had told him. Jack simply shook his head, gave the broken mirror a thumbs-up and smiled. His two front teeth were gone, and it was visible whenever he smiled. His face fell slightly, and he closed his mouth.
Anyway, he waited ever so patiently for Dave to get to the restaurant. It was a Mexican restaurant, because Dave had expressed wanting to eat something 'exotic' a few weeks ago.
[Maybe he was just implying for you to buy him a kebab.]
Jack screwed his eyes shut, trying to silence The Narrator. "Shut up," He whispered.
[...]
[fine, prick.]
Jack opened his eyes as his mind cleared up again. He heard the door to the establishment open, followed with the sound of windchimes. "Yo!" A New York accent called out. "Can I get any service around 'ere? I need to see my tangerine!" Dave whined. Someone quickly assisted the cryptid-looking man. "What do you need help with, sir?" The busboy asked.
"Have you seen an orange guy, about yea tall, creepy grin on his face, always talkin' to himself, looks like a hunky twink?" Dave looked around, his voice rather loud. "Oh, um, yeah, booth 6, to your left."
Dave quickly snapped his head to his right.
"Over here, dumbass!" Jack got up and waved a hand. Dave looked over, and upon seeing Jack, he beamed and rushed over, practically crashing into the booth.
"Oh, shit, whaddup, Old Sport!"
"Oh shit, whaddup, Dave!"
They laughed over how the atrocious aubergine had crashed into the booth for a bit, then calmed down. "Where'd ya bring me to, sportsy? What is this place?" Dave asked, leaning closer to Jack, his dark purple neck stretching a little. Jack cringed at the sight. "This place is called, uh..." He sneakily glanced over at his phone and rapidly looked up his location. "Oh, this place is called 'Tortillas con Freddy Fazbenderian.'" Jack smiled awkwardly.
"You brought us to a fuckin' Freddy's location for our date?" Dave asked. Jack cleared his throat. "Well- yeah- but no killing kids this time, okay? It'll seem..." Jack trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. "Aw, c'mon, we're colored! It won't be like that!" Dave cracked a smile. "Yeah, but we're orange and purple. Y'know what- nevermind- um- what do you want?" Jack stumbled over his words, waving his hands around dismissively. "I dunno. I jus' got here. I don't even got a menu." Dave sat up straight and looked over the booth for a waiter. "They're right here, Dave. A waiter gave me two before you got here." Jack yanked at Dave's sleeve. The aubergine moved over and took a menu.
