Chapter Text
Arthur woke up with a splitting headache. He laid there, staring at the grey ceiling for a few minutes, the fog that usually covered his mind leaving slightly. As was usual for him. He knew he got enough sleep if the Joy had worn off by the time he woke up. Of course, this meant there would be less than pleasant thoughts to greet him from his sleep.
He sighed as he reached over to his nightstand, his hand searching lazily for his glasses. Once he found them, he put them on and, once again, laid there.
He should've stayed at his old job. It was closer. At least there he was able to actually interview people, instead of just censoring old papers. Covering up the truth. His boss was, half the time, incompetent. His job was boring. His coworkers were boring. His apartment was bleak and unoriginal - not to any fault of his, there was always a lack of originality when it came to the furniture available. The air was stale. His neck was killing him. His shoulder was stiff. There wasn't enough fo-
He swung his feet over the side of his bed as he sat up, immediately swiping his bottle of Strawberry Joy and downing two as swiftly as possible. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, holding himself relatively stiff as he waited for them to kick in.
Within a few moments, a wave of relief passed though him as the Joy took effect.
When he opened his eyes, the colors around him looked brighter, warmer. Everything was more inviting, more comforting. The blanket and bed was softer, the air smelled faintly of flowers, his pain was gone. His previous job may have been more involved, but technically now he was more important than before, being the last to interact with older papers of the past. If anything, it was an honor they trusted him with that, with the towns history. Only a few people could be trusted with it. And, if he really craved the involvement, he could always just ask to run a story. For old times sakes. Yeah!
A smile passed over the mans face as the once negative thoughts turned into positive ones. It was always nicer to have a glass-half-full mentality. Much better than the alternative.
He stood up and turned on his TV, a few minutes before the new Wakey Wakey for the day aired. As he moved around his room to get ready for the day, he swayed to the music that played in between programs. Today would be good, he'd make sure of it.
He, once again, was censoring papers. Same thing as always. Even if it was monotonous, it was necessary. Can't have stories that are too negative, it'll bring people down. That's the last thing people want. Joy was made to help people forget, so why should the papers force them to remember? Just one slip, and a Downer outbreak could happen, which wouldn't be good for anyone. The Downers or the Wellies. They'd pose a danger to the Wellies, either being violent - it was surprisingly common in the Garden District, even though they were the ones who chose to not take their Joy, Wellies didn't force them- or potentially causing others to remember. And, of course, they would be dangerous to themselves. Surely remembering the bad things would not be good for the psyche. Arthur of all people knew how difficult it is to stick through a bad episode. It being constant...
A small groan left Arthurs lips as he ran a hand under his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He leaned back as he mentally chided himself before sitting up again, forcing himself to continue working. Now wasn't the time for a dive into the mind of a Downer.
He went through a few more pages, censoring some about when the lake was first closed off to the public due to a possible contagion and the newest batch of joy at the time being rumored to be faulty. He inserted the next tube into the machine, operating on autopilot.
He skimmed through the body of the article before something seemed off, familiar. He read the heading, and sure enough. "Hastings brothers win scrap... gathering... What?" Arthur stared at the page intently, the headache slowly creeping back in. That- that was him. And his brother. "Oh god, Percy..." He muttered to himself as memories came flooding back. There was a train, kids screaming, and Percy... He placed his hand on the glass of the machine, the small hum of dread and guilt that began forming starting to grow.
No. No, today was going to be good.
Arthur opened his pill bottle and held the Joy in front of him as the world began to fade in color, becoming drab beige and dull greens and blues. They escorted me away, and Percy... The feeling began to consume him, his muscles tightening and the pain from the morning returning.
He swallowed the pill without a second thought. The memories faded, instead remembering the happy times with his brother. Them playing chess. How he never seemed to understand sarcasm. How Arthur always looked out for his younger brother. The beautiful colors and euphoric feelings returned. "Snug like a bug on a drug!" he hummed to himself as he continued working, leaving the 1947 piece uncensored. It was about them doing the most for the Scrap Drive, there was no need to censor it. He was the only one who would be momentarily taken aback, which wasn't a good enough reason to have it redacted from the general public.
He continued working with little issue for the next few hours. At one point his boss, Miss Byng, came in to let him know about a birthday party for Deirdre in the conference room. He went and had a great time, even if he had forgotten her birthday was today. They even had a piñata. How fun! By the time he returned to his desk, the memories of his minor breakdown had disappeared.
After he had finished his reviews of the papers, Arthur knocked on the door to Miss Byngs office.
"Come in!" the woman said from the other side of the door.
Arthur opened the door just enough for him to walk in, and closed it as soon as he passed through. "Ah, yes, Miss Byng." He greeted. "I, uh, wanted to ask you about," he paused as he tried to think of the words, "venturing out for a bit?" He asked with a lift to his voice. No amount of Joy could permanently fix his awkwardness. He had tried.
The woman on the other side of the desk tilted her head with a questioning hum. "What do you mean? If you need a 15, you're more than welcome too. There's never been a rule against it." She waved her hand as she spoke, the corner of her eyes crinkling as her smile widened.
Arthur shook his head with a small chuckle. "No, no, I meant out on the field. I've been craving going out there and making stories." Once he finished, Miss Byng gave the slightest tilt of her head and inhale, sending Arthur into a slew of words. "I of course enjoy working here - who wouldn't, we're in the Parade after all - but, I dunno, there's just something really fulfilling about going out there and interviewing people, getting the latest scoop and all that." He moved dramatically as he spoke, emphasizing his words. Byng giggled as she watched, beginning to shush him.
"Arthur, if you really want to have another go in the general spotlight, I don't see why not. Only thing is, you need to make sure you keep sight of your actual job. Understood?" She became serious as she spoke, her smile deepening. "You're a good employee, Arthur. Who am I to limit you in your endeavors? If I didn't let my employees indulge in their interests, they wouldn't work well, now would they?" She gestured for the lanky man to sit down in the seat in front of him, realizing he was still standing. "Sit, please." He quickly did so, his smile raising ever so slightly under his mask. "What do you have in mind? For your story, that is."
Arthur thought for a moment. He didn't actually have a topic yet. A faint chuckle escaped as he tried and failed to come up with something on the spot, instead having no tangible thoughts. "Well, funny thing 'bout that, I hadn't really gotten that far, you see." He made small noises as he tried to push through the mental fog. Lets see... the scrap drive... the lake... Joy... Joy? "Perhaps there's something new happening with Joy? It's been a while since we've had a new flavor." He spitballed excitedly, moving his hands as he spoke. Miss Byng snapped her fingers at him, leaning back in her chair.
"And this is why I like you! Always got your head screwed on straight." She stood up and made her way to a filing cabinet. Arthur froze for a moment, picking up on the unwarranted praise, but quickly brushed it off. Why would her telling him good job be something to question?
"Matter of fact, there is something happening. And, that something is in St. George's Holm." She began filing through folders in one of the drawers, looking for one in particular. Arthur watched her as she did so, trying his best to read the small tabs from across the room. He couldn't read anything from where he sat, but it was worth a shot. "One of the leads of Joy manufacturing is working on a new flavor, or so I've heard, and there's been a rumor of it not leaving people as foggy. Can you believe it?" She found the file with a small "aha!" and sat back down on the other side of the desk.
Arthur, admittedly, found that impressive. "You mean like people won't be high off their asses? Just... happy?" Miss Byng nodded with a grin, one that Arthur found infectious. "That's brilliant! Something like that would make everything so much better. That..." He sighed as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. If the fog was no longer a thing, it would allow people to actually work. They would be functional. Uncle Jack wouldn't have to remind people to brush their teeth or to not use sawdust as a substitute for flour every morning. "Wow." He pushed up his thick glasses as he sat up again. "I mean - if you would allow it, of course - I would love to look into that."
"Great! I'll message her to expect you, but you won't be able to see her for a few days. She's... on holiday." The woman explained. "Once I get the ok, I'll send over where you're to meet her." She folded her hands in her lap as she fixed her posture. "Is that all?" She asked pleasantly. Arthur nodded with a hum, mirroring his bosses change in posture.
"Yup, I believe it is!" He moved to stand up, but stopped himself mid motion. "Ah, thank you, again. It means a lot you're allowing me to do this. It won't be an issue, I promise!" He got a nod in approval as he stood fully and walked to the door.
He closed the office door behind him, then started making his way to his room. One of the office windows that previously had the blinds open were now drawn shut. He walked past Prudence's office, "...wasn't she supposed to come back today? I made her a welcome back card..." He thought out loud as he continued walking. He past Clive Birtwhistle's office and scoffed - not to be confused with Clive Hamilton, he was a good bloke. He was already well aware of the former mans attempt to claim his office. Saying Arthur may be a downer. Funny, that coming from a man who wrote to the boss claiming to be a random woman who had no clue of what Arthurs name was. Ok, almost wrote to the boss. Doesn't change a thing. Needless to say, the two didn't get along well. He still hoped for the best for him, however.
He made it to his office and began packing things in his messenger bag, wrapping up for the day. A thank you card from Dierdre - she was always just the nicest, even on her own birthday - loose pencils and pens that were used and discarded throughout the day, his notebook which had is letter of transit tucked between some of the pages, a book that he had taken from one of the archives. He took another pill and slid the bottle into his bag before closing it, swinging it over his shoulder. He left with a pep in his step as he whistled Dead of Winter to himself.
He greeted everyone in the office as he left, wishing them all a lovely day - even Clive, despite Arthur saying it with slightly less enthusiasm. As he walked out into the streets of the Parade district, he couldn't help but inhale, taking in the sweet scent of nature.
The clearing of a throat caught his attention. He opened his eyes and saw the Constable stationed at the entrance staring at him, the usual Bobby mask seeming weaker than the expression he wore under it. "Mr. Hastings." He greeted with a deep voice. Arthur gave a two fingered salute at the man.
"Constable!"
"You doin' alright?" He questioned. Arthur paused for a moment.
"Yeah, I've never been better!" Arthurs smile fell ever so slightly. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I was the one watching surveillance for the first half of the day. Noticed you had a, uh... moment." Arthur could see the nasty smirk under the Constables mask, but shook away the thought that the questions may be from a bad place. He was just checking up on him. That being said...
"What do you mean, 'a moment?' I'm perfectly fine." He, admittedly, was blanking on the moment in question. The red clad Bobby let out a low chuckle.
"I mean you were short of a panic attack. I saw it on the cameras. If you're not doing well, you know you can always go to the authorities. We can get you the help you need."
Arthur shook his head, doubly confused. "No, I don't think that's needed, thanks." He said quickly, taking a step away. "I appreciate the concern, but I genuinely have no clue to what you are referring to."
"Are you implying I'm seeing things?"
"Of course not! I just don't know what you're getting at, and you aren't really helping me recall anything." he proclaimed with a tilt in his voice. He felt himself starting to get defensive and took a deep breath. "I really do appreciate the worry." He chuckled a little before adjusting his bag, then his glasses, then his hair. "I must be going, gotta catch the new program, you know." He excused himself from the situation with small awkward finger guns, the man just chuckling behind him with the shake of his head. As soon as he was a few feet away from the Constable, Arthur sped up, trying to leave as soon as possible.
He crossed Mount Badon Bridge with little fuss, reentering St. Georges Holm and weaving his way through the crowd. Everyone was in good spirits. Unlike in the Parade, where those walking around were relatively serious since they usually were working, the Wellies of St. George were allowed to just enjoy themselves. Some jumped in puddles or played games with each other. One guy, who Arthur couldn't remember the name of but knew his face, mentioned that it looked like they were the same size. Arthur happily engaged, the two swapping jackets to find that they were, in fact, the same size. Imagine that! It really is a small world.
After a slew of "Lovely day for it"s on his lovely stroll through the rainbow lined streets, he found The Green Man, the local corner pub. Steve McDonald was behind the bar, and immediately noticed as the man entered the store.
"Arthur! Good day at work?" He called from the other side of the pub cheerfully, sliding over a bowl of stew to one of the customers at the bar. "Is that a new jacket?" The few people in the corner where the sofas were all looked up from their papers to wave and greet Arthur while he grabbed a newspaper from Steve.
"You know it. Working in the Parade is great. Especially when you get the job that just has you sitting at your desk all day!" He joked as he gave the man a firm handshake, who laughed heartily, firmly ignoring the question about the jacket.
"Hey, a job's a job! Getting paid to sit ain't the worst thing, now is it?" Steve agreed with a wide smile. Arthur nodded and went over to the sofa corner and placed his bag down next to him on the chair.
"Business doing good?"
"Of course. there isn't a better place to relax, is there?" Steve called out to everyone in the Pub, to which a chorus of agreement passed through. Arthur shrugged as he crossed his legs dramatically and opened the newspaper with a sharp fwip.
He spent his night vaguely reading about the new coconut flavored Joy as he and the others on the sofas mingled, catching up on life. Ridgewell, even if he didn't stay long, ended up placing a bet with Alexander about who could collect the best conkers out of the two after a lengthy debate about the games they used to play as kids. Ridgewell had to go to work in the morning, so he only stayed until the new Well Well Well finished, but the others around had also placed bets. Arthur was firmly on Ridgewells side. Didn't know why, it was all really down to chance, but still. He had 10 sovereigns on it.
He also couldn't help but notice that Roseamund was sitting next to Alexander today. They tended to sit in the same seats every day, and her seat was empty. Maybe they were flirting with the idea of, well, flirting. They'd make a cute couple, Arthur had to admit. Once Well Well Well was done, the pub drew quiet, the group now beginning to relax and actually read their papers.
Arthur began to leave 30 minutes before curfew. Many of the patrons had already left by that point. He had made sure to pay for everyone's tabs, as was usual. Before he left, Steve asked again if it was a new jacket, which made Arthur think for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it is!"
"Well, it suits you. It don't suit those pants, but it suits you." Arthur gave him a nod and went on his way, walking home. In the morning, he had to see about getting more information from his boss. She had forgotten to give him the file, which would probably be important. He still was excited that she gave him the ok to work on a story again. It had been... a little over a year now? Two? It had been a while for sure. He left when he... when...
…when- why- did he leave the O' Courant, again?
Ah, who cares, that's in the past. All that matters is today, the present.
And today had, in fact, been a great day.