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"If you're so good at shapeshifting," Billy asks, as his hands fumble around for his lighter, "Why don't you just... Shapeshift into some form you want and never look back. Or whatever it is you do?"
It's a fine afternoon on the sidewalk somewhere in Hawkins, outside some cheap store the two got their addiction fixes from.
Syn notices the awkwardness of Billy's hand motions as he searches. Billy would not normally allow anybody to see what he views as "vulnerability". The burden of constantly appearing as infallible as possible merely comes naturally with the role of King of Hawkins. How stressful that must be, Syn muses. It is, thus, flattering that Billy even allows Syn to witness the human aspects of him. That Billy trusts Syn enough to let his guard down.
An abruptly loud flick of a lighter and a lit marlboro(given to him by Syn) snaps Syn out of his train of thought.
"So? You gonna answer? Penny for your thoughts, or however the fuck that goes." the dirty-blonde haired man asks, thumb flicking his cigarette downward to rid of ash onto the concrete beneath their feet.
"Huh?"
Syn answers the question before Billy can repeat himself, to Billy's relief. The latter isn't a fan of repeating things already said.
"I could, you'd think. I've tried. One time I shapeshifted and kept that one form for like, less than a week? Said I was on camp and my ba was too busy to care. But then I shifted back, and I immediately had a fever for a while."
"We're not like other Peranakans we know. We follow Buddhism, I think. Just not so fervently." Nearly chokes on his beer as he explains, drank too fast. "Ba tried a lot, everything I think. Soup, superstitious stuff, medicine, doctor, nobody could do shit. Almost wanted to try an exorcist, told him no."
"Eventually I think he gave up, he doesn't have much money, and he was pretty much just resigned to watching me die. Or he thought I was. And then one day I woke up, and I was fine."
Billy watches a yuppie's car speed past them. He's listening, Syn knows that.
"'Ah shit, am I fucking dead now?', I asked myself. Unfortunately," Syn interrupts with a chuckle, "Nope. Not dead. Maybe this doesn't surprise you, but I was really bummed out for a moment."
Billy shifts his position, one leg rested upon the other, hands in his pockets. Good for you, he finds himself thinking. At least your dad cares enough to do something about your almost fuckin' dying.
But Billy knows better than to interject with words like those, Syn's dad wasn't very amazing a father figure himself. Syn was as much a victim of abuse as he was, so he tries to think about Syn's words rather than the comparison.
"So like, yeah. If I tried to stay in one form forever maybe I'd die a slow and painful death or something."
Cigarette still inbetween Billy's lips, "Sucks, dude."
(That came out a little more apathetic than he intended it to.)
"When I got cursed, I didn't think too much about what the curse was. I just thought whatever cursed me was fucking stupid for thinking giving a dumbass 16 year old the ability to change his form, and without any obvious caveats, and calling it a 'curse'. But I guess the real curse is not being able to run from what I truly am, and always have been."
"I can't run, you know. At the end of the day, I'm still me. Shi Ning, Syn. I can't run away from what I look like and the things I feel. When I change forms, I retain my consciousness and human thoughts, I still feel everything I feel as a human. I think that's the curse, I'm stuck being me no matter what; I can run as fast and as far and as long as I want. And I'm still fucked anyway."