Syboleth ch. 6: Social Medium

Author’s note: I don’t think we need ANs for clarity anymore so much because I’m finally publishing chapters in order. Anyway, without further ado, best girl returns…

———

Valerie tapped open a testimonial absentmindedly.

i was on a date and everything seemed great! he was a gentleman, offered to pay but said we could split if that was more my style, opened the Waymo door for me, everything was going wonderfully. we get back to his place and he pours me a drink. i’m kind of more than tipsy at this point and i spill some on the bar, so he grabs a towel and starts cleaning it up. and that’s when i see it… he covered his dots with makeup! it was so fucking violating. we even talked about how creepy these biomedical tech advances were at the restaurant! fuck you Charlie Rosenberg!

She swiped it away, then did a digital double take. Wasn’t that Garrett’s roommate? Hmm. She considered sending it to him, then considered that she had no idea what Garrett’s relationship with the guy was like at all. Maybe they were best buds at this point and she’d be offending him.

She opened her messages. The last text, an overly effusive thank you for his offer to replace her laplet, was still there unread in her conversation with Garrett.

Awkward.

Should she double text or just wait it out? Well, waiting it out could take forever knowing Garry.

hey there garry. i realized we haven’t talked much about what your new life is like. how’s the roommate?

She considered this for a moment, then sent it off with a wince.

Almost immediately, the read receipt was delivered and a typing indicator popped up. Apparently he just hadn’t felt the need to see her full thank you, or maybe the automatic summaries did a good enough job. She wasn’t sure if he had those turned on or not, she realized.

hi val. nice to hear from you as always. my roommate is awful lol, a real microcosm of everything awful about SF. at least he’s a good cautionary lesson

Her heart leapt, and then she felt foolish. Either way, at least he’d replied. She began typing.

i have something i think you’re going to like then

And then she sent the link. There was a pause of a couple minutes, and then the typing indicator returned.

holy shit, what a fucking creep! should i address it with him or pretend i don’t know?

She was amazed as always at how sensitive Garrett was to the situations women found themselves in.

definitely keep it on the downlow, don’t let on that you know anything. i mean i guess he already knows you hate him knowing you, but definitely don’t talk about this

gotcha. i’ll just arrange for a bucket of water on top of the door at some seemingly unrelated time next week.

She chuckled.

seriously?

i’ll send video.

i hope so

He was so fun. Too much fun. God, did she ever miss him. She needed that manic-but-not-that-kind-of-manic energy in her life again. It gave her the freedom to be happy at times other than the dreaded episodes of psychotic mania. She needed to find another friend like that, but knew she wouldn’t.

He always knew the right thing to say. Like he was psychic, or something. But really psychic, not like the psychic you could visit down the street from her apartment.

Well, she had accomplished something today already. That was a good start. Now she just had to make some content for the johns and get some chatting in during all that and she’d be able to relax for the rest of the day. That would be nice. Her new laplet would be delivered tomorrow, according to the manifest. Then she could get back to researching her prescriptions. And researching the cheapest overseas sources of the anti-psychotic in particular. The mood stabilizer was only useful for preventing suicidal thoughts, it was the anti-psychotic she really needed. To avoid the worse stuff. There are worse mental states than the one that leads to you killing yourself, after all. Not too many people had experienced them, though. Valerie was one of the unlucky few.

As she did her daily routines, she became fixated on picturing the future. Her future, mostly.

No matter what it took, she had to stay on her aripiprazole. No matter the costs. And from overseas the costs would be much less than her current ordinary American prescription.

Perhaps she could just assume a new identity, free of debts. If she burnt off her fingerprints and dyed her irises and got facial surgeries and… somehow paid for it all with lottery winnings or something. At which point the original motive would no longer be a factor anyway.

Oh well. It is fun to daydream, Valerie concurred with her inner voice.

She considered actually going on a date. Then she would be able to write her own testimonial if it went poorly. How might she pursue going on a date? She pondered the question briefly.

Well, if she went to the bar there would soon enough be an answer. And likely an answer that would result in a juicy testimonial. It wasn’t exactly a bar frequented by gentlemen.

As the sun was setting she dressed, and used a blue eyeliner to add a little flash to tonight’s aesthetic. She pumped the head of a perfume bottle roughly a dozen times before a final spritz emerged and landed upon her wrist. Then she tapped her wrists together delicately in multiple places and rubbed them against her neck.

It was still a pleasant odor, though it was years old now. She had gotten this bottle as a gift from an old ex who had worked in the essential oil industry. He had managed to grab it one day from a treasure trove of promotional stuff a perfume company that his company had collaborated with had been offering.

She didn’t think they even made it anymore, so this night better go well. Or at least result in one hell of a testimonial.

After checking to make sure everything she needed was in her purse, she stepped out into the night.

The bar was quiet tonight, but there were a couple men who noticed her almost immediately. One walked up and offered to buy her a drink, and she accepted. So it would be him, then. He wasn’t too bad on the eyes, but far from somebody she would ever give a second glance on the street. Nothing compared to G-

Alright, come on now girl, Valerie thought to herself. Don’t ruin the entire point of this outing. Stop thinking about him.

“Everything okay?” asked the guy that had bought her the drink.

“Peachy keen,” she said warmly. “What’s your name?”

“Derek,” he said excitedly. “Yours?”

“Clara,” she said, without a hint of dishonesty in her tone to betray her.

“Nice to meet you, Clara,” he said. “Enjoying that cosmo?”

“Very much, thank you,” she said, and that was actually true. She did love a good cosmopolitan.

Then they danced the night away, or something. She didn’t have much in the way of memories of what happened after.

Next chapter: https://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work/Aet%20Lindling/Syboleth-ch-7-Meeting-Elliot-161885