Chapter Five: Who

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"Denny's? Really?"

Damian didn't mind Denny's.

An addendum: Damian didn't mind Denny's when it was 3am and he was in that limbotic  state between horribly drunk and terribly hungover.

But 11AM on a Saturday morning?

Hell, it felt like this place shouldn't even be open.

Alexander didn't seem to mind, though. He gladly took his seat and began ordering with absolutely no hesitation. It was pancakes, of course, although the ones he ordered were some kind of horrible Frankenstein creation that spliced the genes of all acceptable breakfast foods into something that sounded near Lovecraftian.

Damian took a little longer, thumbing through the menu until he found something that didn't sound completely stomach-twisting. To appease the utterly obsessed pancake patron, he got the simplest pancake order he could get, which was still unnecessarily complex in its description. He tried not to think of it as they waited.

"So what's your deal?" Alexander asked from across the booth. He seemed a lot more relaxed now, like he was finally in his element. Maybe he was elated by the removal of the weight of being the only person to experience an indescribable event. Or maybe, Damian considered, he was just a fucking weirdo.

Damian furrowed his brows. "What do you mean, what's my deal?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. There's got to be something different about you if you're in this situation with me. I mean, not saying that I'm anything special, but I work there, you know? That sets me apart somehow I guess. But what's your deal? You don't seem like, a totally out of the norm sort of guy." He waved his hands to amend the statement, "Not that I mean that in a bad way. I just mean, you know, I was looking for more of an obvious sort of sign. But, tell me about yourself."

Damian opened his mouth, but the words took a while to come out. "Oh, geez. I don't know. I was never really good at talking about myself. I, uh--well, I just moved here, so I guess that's significant. Or, well, like two months ago I moved here. I just got a job at that office up the block. It's alright, nothing too exciting."

"Where'd you move here from?" Alexander asked, fiddling with the straw in his orange juice.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Aw, man. Where haven't I moved here from? I've been all over. This was move number fourteen, I think? I have to go back and recount. But, I don't know. I don't really move from anywhere, I just kind of move from place to place."

Alexander tried to take a sip of his drink, but the straw jabbed the corner of his lips. "Whoa, no way. Living the nomadic life, huh?"

Damian only shrugged.

"What do you do? Like what's your thing?"

"My thing?" he echoed.

"Yeah, like I don't mean like your job--unless you're actually doing what you want to do for a living, then if that case buddy you are in the lucky minority--I mean, like what is your thing, your lifeblood, you know?"

Damian stared at him with narrow eyes. He spoke in such a way that seemed almost idealistic, but still jaded in the way that people his age are. "I...don't know? I've never really had a--a thing I guess."

"What do you mean you've never had a thing?" Alexander asked almost incredulously. "What did you study in college? How do you pick your hobbies?"

Damian stuttered. "I--I don't know. I've just--like I guess I like math? Well, I mean, I never really liked math, but I studied like statistics and stuff and that was okay? I never really got good grades, though. I didn't really care in high school. Or college. I just did okay in everything. And, you know, that was fine and all. I like going outdoors, I guess? I'm not, like, athletic, but I like hiking and swimming and stuff like that. Does that count as a thing?"

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