Interlude of Some Description

Who: Dean and Socko
Where: outside the mall
When: Mid-morning

Dean kept telling himself that this was necessary. All the way to the mall, he told himself it was necessary - he'd broken his phone. Then he'd broken Sophie's phone. So, they both needed new and he'd volunteered to go get them. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that he'd felt like he really, really needed to spend some time away from Thia or anything. No, not at all.

Okay, well, maybe just a little bit. But only to clear his head and get himself back on track. Away from the house entirely was a good thing - and the mall was the most normal place he knew. He hated the place with a fiery passion, but it was normal, full of normal people doing normal things. Like shopping. And dragging round screaming children. God, he hated the mall. But it made him efficient, heading straight for the phone store and buying two serviceable phones - ironically nowhere near as good as the one he'd bought for Thia, even though Sophie was bank rolling this one. That done, he headed back out again, grabbing a can of coke from a machine on the way out and relaxing once he was in the slightly quieter open again. He popped the can and settled down on a bench outside, taking a breather and wondering what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his day now.

Almost like he could sense Dean's pondering, Socko was there. He couldn't in fact; he'd actually been dealing on the other side of the mall not too long ago, moving bags of grass to bored kids with nothing better to do or spend their money on. And hustling built up a thirst like most people wouldn't believe, especially when one talked as much as Socko did. It wasn't the cottonmouth, no... it was the talking.

Earbuds were tucked in place as Socko breezed out the door of the mall, his feet shuffling against the sidewalk in time with the music. Moving on the soda machine, Socko's gaze narrowed shrewdly to study the flow of probability he saw, and he smirked to himself. As he got closer, he smacked a hand against the side, turning on one foot to jar the front with a hip and knocking loose a can with a thunderous clunk.

"You can't be me, I'm a rockstar," he whispered in time with the music, grabbing his drink and cracking it open. Socko was in the middle of his first drink when he turned and saw Dean sitting nearby, and through the haze in his brain he wondered. One more sale today? Can't hurt, maybe let my baby go shopping, watch her try on anything...

Dean didn't hear his approach. Even out here, the people around - even though there was nobody all that close by - together with the nearby parking lot with the cars entering and leaving and the tinny music coming from some under-powered speaker system meant that his hearing, which in quieter times was good enough to rival a lycanthropes, was overwhelmed, leaving him with something akin to deafness. He'd be able to hear tones, vague sounds, but not actual words unless he could rely on his ability to read lips. But, he wasn't much worried about that today, since he was alone, resting back on the bench, surveying the world and trying not to let the god-awful music from the speakers annoy him too much. It'd be so easy to make it stop, He thought to himself. But he didn't do that kind of thing anymore - wasn't that what he'd told Thia yesterday? So he tried to block it out, which wasn't happening, of course. That was the whole problem, when it came to sound he couldn't block it out. He heard everything.

"Ain't quite sunbathing weather," Socko announced, unceremoniously dropping to sit on the edge of Dean's bench. The kid, for he was definitely young, looked strained. Maybe it was girl trouble, or school problems. Whatever it was, Socko was hoping he could sell a little relief. Shit, maybe even jus' share some, he told himself, quickly tallying his day's sales in his head. This one wouldn't make or break his day, he could play it by ear. "Shit, round here ain't no more sunbathing till halfway into next year, dig?" It was an abrupt way to start speaking to someone, but that was just how Socko did things. Smirking over at Dean, he popped the earbuds free of his ears and tilted back his soda for a drink. "How you doin'?" he asked curiously.

Dean looked round as the guy sat down next to him, catching that he was speaking, but missing the first half of the words as they got swept away into the background noise. He did, however, catch that last bit as his eyes dropped to watch the movement of the guy's lips and Dean gave him his full attention. He met the guy's eyes as he replied though, again, force of habit, though he knew that some people found it a little unnerving at times. "So, so," Dean told him with a shrug, not totally giving the brush off 'fine' answer. He didn't feel fine - his head was a mess of things that probably shouldn't even be appearing on the same playing field. In no normal brain should thoughts of murder be vying for attention with not being able to have the girl you liked. But at least he'd come to a conclusion on the former. He wasn't going to do it, he wasn't going to have to - they'd find another way. Dean felt like he'd been pulled back from an abyss he'd been going to willingly throw himself into and the relief at that was overwhelming.

"Yeah, you look it," Socko joked lightly, stretching out on the bench and just grinning like he didn't have a care in the world. Sure money might be tight if he ended up helping Bu's friends who'd just lost their house, but there would always be more to earn. "Ain't it tragic? Not, like, a killer day but it's still decent. But here you is, stuck on school or girls or somethin', right? An' no, I ain't psychic," he went on, his smile widening. "Jus' know that 'shit on my mind' look... but I can help you out, dig?"

You might not be psychic, but I am, Dean thought lightly. Not that he was that type of psychic, but apparently it took all sorts. He eyed the guy up, then figured that he was a total stranger, so it wasn't like he'd be able to connect the dots or anything. And the offer of help caught his attention, that was for sure - and looking at the guy, it didn't take that much imagination to come up with what the 'help' was likely to be. "Try the last two," he shrugged, outwardly showing mild interest, but not too much. He was never overt with his emotions anyhow.

Well, he wasn't flatly refusing to hear Socko out, so that was a good thing. And with even that small amount of interest to go off of, Socko dug a hand into his hoodie pocket for his harmonica case. He snapped it open to reveal a neat little cluster of pre-rolled joints and a baggie, then plucked one joint free and put the case back. "Kinda forward an' shit, right?" Socko asked rhetorically, screwing the joint into his lips, "But ain't nothin' like a good toast to take the brain's focus off them lady troubles. I know that one." He set his soda aside, casting one more quizzical glance Dean's way as he lit up, pulled deeply, and offered the joint over. "Sock Monkey to the rescue, my man," he introduced himself oddly, chuckling around a heavy lungful of smoke.

Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced around without really looking like he was looking, but they were a ways away from the ain crowd, off to one side. He'd expected something like this, but he'd not quite expected this - just to be sold to and that was it. That's what usually happened at home, where being offered drugs of some description or other was fairly common place, depending on where you hung out. But Dean shrugged and took the joint, nhaling deeply, before passing it back, feeling teh bite of smoke in his lungs, the sting of the tobacco mix. He'd never got into the smoking habit, though he'd taken the odd joint at home wit his friends. "Thanks mate," he told her guy on the exhale.

"Ain't nothin'," Socko replied with a dismissive nod, letting his feet dangle and his eyes absently take in the random play of abstract probabilities around them. "Figure a guy's gotta give a little test 'fore he drops a pricetag, you know?" He chuckled, hitting the joint again and savoring the crackle of paper burning, then passing it over again. "S'your lucky day too," he drawled, "I'm jus' roundin' up scratch to help out those dudes from the house fire, so I'm sellin' on the cheap if you're lookin'. Peeps call me Socko," he tacked on, offering his hand with the passed joint.

"Dean," the teen replied, shaking his head. "So, what - this is just a bit of community service?" he deadpanned, but he took the joint again anyhow, feeling the sting of the tobacco less this time as it started to hit. He considered it, and the amount of cash he actually had to his name right now - which wasn't a huge amount, but his allowance from his parents had hit recently. "How much you asking?" he asked, pssing the joint back again.

"Cheapest deals in town," Socko promised, watching Dean exhale and plucking the joint back. "My girl's tight with them fellas, so we're jus' tryin' to get 'em solid again, follow?" Socko tucked the joint back into his lips, digging out his harmonica case again to quickly size up the bag he had left. A quarter of an ounce was exorbitantly expensive up here from most dealers, and Socko's regular prices were already low, but hey, he was the one calling it a sale. "Let's say half a'standard, so twenty bones for four an' a half grams of chronic. Shit, I'll even throw in some female advice, free a'charge."

The greatest thing about moving to the States, well, apart from the obvious, was the exchange rate, in Dean's opinion. His parents hadn't managed to clue into that yet, so his allowance, which was a pittance compared to some at home went a whole lot further over here. Which meant that Dean didn't even have to stop and think about the price. "Sure, sounds good," he agreed, reaching for his wallet and pulling out the notes., tucking his wallet back in his pocket without really making a scene about it. As for the female advice, well, he wasn't gonna say no, was he. Hell knew, he probably needed it - though he didn't have the first clue about how you went about asking for something like that.

The speed of the reply almost made Socko wish he'd charged more, almost. But it was an even break with what he paid his suppliers, so he couldn't exactly complain. Plus, if Dean liked it? Well, a regular customer was always a good thing in Socko's world. He was quick and easy about the exchange, passing off the rolled baggy and palming the notes of cash away from Dean smoothly, then sitting back with the remainder of his joint. "So, what... this like some girl who don't even know you exist? She got a man already? You jus' wishin' you had one givin' you problems?" He smiled curiously, lips pursing as he sucked down a hit and let his head swim and spin.

Dean pocketed the bag, stretching a little and resettling as if it was a natural move, with a shrug attached to the end. "More I'm kinda stuck as friends. And she had a boyfriend, but they split up because she's got kinda a lot of shit going on in her life and she can't handle being in a relationship right now, but I'm kinda the guy she turns to and..." he trailed off.

"An' that's so tricky you don' even know where to start," Socko finished for him, nodding in understanding. "Truth, bro? Shit's easier when there ain't no sentiment. When you jus' lookin' to land some phone numbers or wake up at someone else's place, shit's way easier. Less satisfying though." Puffing on the remainder of the joint, Socko flicked it away in a smooth arc and exhaled before going on.

"Gotta keep the faith though. Cuz if I'm guessin' right, no matter how much you dig this girl, it ain't enough for you to stop bein' down with her, yeah? Gotta hold each other up. Gotta imagine if you could only choose one; bein' there for her when she needs you or bein' close to her like you wanna. An' when you choose, well... then you find out. Maybe she decides you get enough of who she is that she wants to be close too. Maybe she decides she can't risk losin' the friendship. Chicks are tricky like that." He offered a heartfelt smile with the words, thinking on the unusual road he and Bu had walked before getting close like that.

Dean struggled to keep up with the unfamiliar phrasing of what Socko had just said, but he got the general gist of it and nodded. "Yeah, it'd be easier if I didn't really care that much," he agreed, thinking on that. "Problem is though that I do. And I already know the answer to that choice. It's just..." He shrugged again. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Hell naw," Socko agreed emphatically, head bobbing with a steady nod. "Way I see it, the road to the parts of life you like is jus' brick after brick of shit you don't, follow? Gotta be some kinda sadist or some shit to be big on all the mind games an' uncertainty. Can't predict it, can't overthink it, can't underthink it, all you can do's react to it or you fuckin' trip on yourself." At least, that was his perspective. Socko'd learned not to over-analyze, but at the same time to not simply trust fortune; seeing it showed him how untrustworthy it was all on it's own.

"Best thing I can say, Dean... believe. Want somethin' better. Lay down at night and say that tomorrow can be the day where every fuckin' thing you want can be there, dig? It can happen. Few years back I was low-time, bouncin' round my streets jus' waitin' for shit to sour up... an' maybe I ain't no celebrity or rich dude now, but I'm happy. Believed I could be, it's all it takes." He grinned toothily with the statement, tugging up one sleeve to glance at his watch, then slowly rose from the bench. "I gotta bounce though, man. My babydoll's rollin' in to drive my ass home. But keep an eye out if you're ever lookin' to score, yeah? Figure I'll give you the 'he let me ramble' discount next time," Socko said, extending a hand Dean's way.

Dean gave him a ghost of a smile - which was a positive thing in Dean's book, since he very rarely smiled in any constructive way. "Cool - thanks mate. 'Preciate it," he said, taking the guy's hand. "And yeah, we'll see how it goes. Have fun and stuff," he added, thinking about what the guy had said, but somehow tomorrow seemed kinda far away. Maybe an eventual tomorrow, in the meantime, he'd just have to think of something else.

The small crook of Dean's lips was enough for Socko; really it would've been plenty just to know that he'd been a momentary distraction or amusement. "I always do," Socko said in parting, turning and heading along the outside of the mall as he stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket. He was optimistic for the younger guy, a new day always helped perspective. And if it didn't? Well, the sale he'd made would at least keep trouble less prominent in Dean's mind while the bag lasted. "We'll see how it goes," Socko murmured in echo to himself as he walked, nodding at the simple statement. It was all anyone could ever do, really.