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Nene and Boyfriend had never been particularly close. She'd always attributed it to something innate in the both of them - some people just didn't get along, even if all their friends did. That was fine. She found him tolerable at least, didn't mind being his friend; found being his metamour funny, especially, all these years later.
None of that was good enough right now.
She had to wonder if this was any of her business in the first place. She'd been primarily in charge of consoling Girlfriend after the incident with Monster - poor woman practically had survivor’s guilt over a situation where nobody had even died - and she wasn't sure the demoness had meant to go into as much detail as she had.
Now Nene knew most of the ins-and-outs of BF's second traumatic experience in the span of a month, and, well, it felt kind of shitty to have that information and not do anything with it.
In her spare time, Nene studied a lot of psychology. Her parents never really believed in that sort of thing. They were all about their devil's temptations and praying to God to take away their problems. She'd never been to a psychiatrist because of that, so she became her own therapist.
Not that she was any good at it.
But it gave her an in, anyway. Pico and GF were both worried sick, mostly because BF wouldn't talk about anything. He clearly wasn't okay, but he was putting up this act regarding it - pretending to be fine for everyone's sake, which only came off as pathetic when everyone could tell it was pure theatrics.
Regardless, whatever those two were trying wasn't working. And she was pretty sure she knew why.
Nene folded her arms in front of the door to the apartment, sighing. She hoped this wasn't a mistake. She hadn't even texted to tell whoever was home her plans, because it was silly to think about. Hey, I'm gonna therapy your boyfriend real quick, for personal reasons.
She wasn't surprised it was GF who opened the door.
"Oh, hey, bubblegum. I didn't know you were coming over," she greeted; despite her initial confusion, she seemed pleasantly surprised. Her reflexive cloaking came down with a flick of her tail as she ushered Nene inside.
"Yeah, kind of spur of the moment," Nene admitted. She looked around, noticing that BF wasn't in the living room. Only left two other places he could be. She steeled her nerves. "Was, uh, kind of hoping to steal your boyfriend for a few minutes."
For as casual as she’d tried to be about it, the statement only sparked more confusion. Nene had her own set of ideas on how she felt towards BF, but the others tended to get it confused for her just straight up not liking him. She couldn't blame them for that; it wasn't like she was the nicest person in the world, even to people she did like.
"O... kay?" GF said, lips twitching up into an awkward smile. Clearly bewildered, but they wouldn't be where they were if she didn't trust her. "He's in the bedroom. Be gentle?"
There were roughly three things she could be hinting at with that last part. Nene rolled her eyes at all of them in a single motion. "Yep. Shouldn't take long."
She could be grateful that GF caught her drift on this needing to be a private conversation, at least. The demoness stayed behind in the living room, which only felt so private considering how small the place was - but maybe they could move to the patio if BF didn't want her to overhear.
For now, she could make do with the sectioned off half-room he was currently inhabiting, staring intently at that ancient laptop of his. "Hey."
BF looked up, mildly startled to hear her voice. Must have been too focused to hear her come in. In lieu of a greeting, he simply smiled at her, then turned his attention back to what he was doing, likely far from assuming that she was there to see him in particular.
Gosh, this was awkward. There was a reason she never tried something like this with the other boys before.
"Sorry," she apologized truthlessly, sitting on the edge of his bed with as practiced a neutral expression as she could manage, "but you're not getting rid of me that easily."
At that, BF briefly looked like he was wondering if he should fear for his life. Which, you know, was a fair reaction to Nene of all people cornering you in a room with the "we need to talk" look. His forced smiling quickly became something anxious as he lowered the top screen of his laptop, but didn't shut it fully. "Yeah?"
She sighed, then forced a grin that probably looked a hint too malicious in its own right. "Yeah. Cuz you've got your partners talking my ear off about you, and I'm sick of it. So we're talking this shit out." She hoped to say it so definitively that he wouldn't even comprehend having a choice of backing out. Ill-advised, presumably; situations like these tended to call for a sort of tenderness she was sure she was sorely lacking. Sometimes, an avenue of escape was needed.
Issue was, she didn't particularly care.
Maybe it would've saved her a lot of grief when she was younger if someone had pulled her to the side the way she was doing for him now. Or maybe it would've made her implode all that much harder. She couldn't be sure, but her luck was either unfathomably good or absolutely atrocious, and if she wound up making things worse, she was the one with the least skin in the game regardless.
BF looked at her like she'd just pulled a gun on him. The smugness to her grin only deepened. "Patio?"
She didn't doubt that, at least on a surface level, he didn't even want to talk in the first place. Only time would tell if it was her tone or something deeper down inside him that had him giving her a stiff nod before grabbing his phone and a pack of cigarettes.
The air was so still and lukewarm in the alley that Nene's body almost seemed to register the temperature as non-existent. Not cold, not warm, somehow perfectly average. She wasn't sure what she meant by the thought, exactly, but she sort of felt it suited the situation.
BF was visibly nervous, from the way he was almost chewing on his cigarette instead of actually smoking it, something she was sure was ill-advised. Another thing she felt she knew more than she should about - the way BF had more than likely completely intentionally trapped Pico out on this exact patio when they needed to have their own serious talk.
Apparently, he wasn't enjoying the taste of his own medicine.
"Having a shitty month, huh?" She started, though she knew it wouldn't get him talking. She knew how it was. Pico and Darnell were hard enough to break, and those two could, y'know, speak. He blinked at her like he was attempting to feign ignorance. "You know, for as hard as I try, I don't think I've ever gotten really close to dying. But, y'know, it felt like it a few times."
He tensed, clearly not expecting such a blunt statement. Unfortunately for both of them, it still wasn't the type of thing that opened up conversation. Best she could probably get for it would be some shitty forced condolences. She sighed, tapping the metal railing with her painted-pink nails.
"I'm not gonna into, like, detail, but I get it. The brave front. Needing to be strong all the time," she continued, waving one hand vaguely. Her eyes wandered. She was sure if she could ever manage to afford therapy, she'd be one of those people that got told they had a lot of self-awareness. Never seemed to help her much, though. "I'm willing to bet that there's some little voice in the back of your head telling you this is all your fault."
Nene wasn't surprised that provoked a bit of a negative reaction. Not even a genuine one; one of pure theatrics, again. She was grateful she'd gotten so good at reading people. Made it easier to pick them apart. She'd struck a nerve.
As usual, she probably took a bit more joy in that than was normal. "Oohhh, it must be because I wasn't strong enough. Maybe if I just hadn't been randomly traumatized, I wouldn't be dealing with this shit now. I'm so stupid for having feelings," she said each word in a falsetto, intentionally off-kilter impression of his voice. His offense visibly deepened, but he was startled out of it by her pressing an accusatory finger to his chest. "That's you. That's your dumbass brain. That's what it sounds like."
Something in his face shifted. Angry into the slightest hint of recognition. Resignation. Good, she was breaking through. Better than Pico and GF had managed, anyway. "You know that's all stupid, so don't listen to it. Those spirals will kill you. I mean it."
He took a breath, then took his ill-advised chew toy out his mouth and flicked it to the curb below as the leftover smoke whirred from his mouth. After pausing a few moments to think, clearly a bit irritated, he finally lifted his phone to break his silence.
"Hard not to think about it. That thing feeds on fear," he said, and though the text-to-speech lacked any ability to emphasize words, there was an air of condescension to it. Like there was an actual argument to be made, there, regarding those feelings they both knew were getting him nowhere.
"All shitty people do. You think you're special?" She carried the opposite effect - words had more bite than she’d meant them to. BF practically cringed. Not wanting to show any regret, perhaps ironically, she rolled her eyes and continued like she hadn't said something that could come across so easily as an insult. "Could've been any of us. Gigi has been talking about how it wanted her, too. Would you be judging her?"
BF didn't say anything to that. He didn't need to. They both knew the answer, and BF silence spoke louder than anything he could say. "You're going to drive yourself crazy making yourself the exception to your own rules," Nene mused.
"I spent my whole life trying to prove I don't need anyone." Another ignored case of flat affect. The anger carried beneath the phrase was easy enough to see, even as BF was forced to glare at his phone as he typed, clearly mad he even had to communicate that way at all. Nene waited. "Now I can't even pretend. How am I supposed to admit that to them?" Once the phrase completed, he gestured vaguely back to his apartment.
"They already know, dumbass. You're only human," she said. Her tone managed to venture somewhere a bit gentler, in spite of her curt words. Even if he was so worried about admitting it, especially out loud, he already had. That was good. "I'm not gonna tell you to get over yourself in a day. Just trust them, y'know? They love you, for whatever reason, so just let them. Be that vulnerable, needy little thing you keep coaxing out of Pico. It'd probably do you some good."
He was already starting to type something before she was even finished talking (rude), but he paused by the time she was done. Blinked a few times, looking at his screen, then backspaced until it was completely cleared. The rapper let out a heavy sigh through his nose, like one of those sad old shelter dogs, and stayed completely silent.
Pico had accused her a handful of times of talking like she was trying to "win" a conversation. She couldn't even deny it, because she was pretty happy about the fact that she absolutely just had.
BF's only remaining defense mechanism, something he was only bringing out due to embarrassment, she presumed, was deflection; changing the topic entirely. "We're ordering food in a bit. You want anything?" He asked, everything beforehand going unacknowledged, all while he was only able to meet her eyes with the most sheepish of gazes.
She wasn't surprised she'd scared him off. Best not to push any further. Something about steps forward and twice as many back.
So she grinned. "What, for the fourth time this week? What happened to cooking at home?" She teased, choosing to shove back the relief she felt at the transparent amusement on his face, obvious that he wasn't even trying to hide it.
"Too much energy," he complained lightly, "easier to pay other people to do it for me."
"Can't argue with that," she said honestly, though she was definitely filing away loss of passion as something he was going through in her brain - should probably at least hint at it to GF, tell her to lightly encourage him back into his interests. "I mean, I'd prefer to have people make food for me without paying anyone..."
The two continued to banter as they made their way back into the house, eventually ordering something to eat and winding down as they settled on watching GF play games for a bit on her N64.
All her years of studying psychology had mostly been because she lacked two things - professional help, and a personal support system. Darnell and Pico hadn't been the shittiest possible friends, she guessed, but not people she could talk to about stuff. Not really. The whole trio's emotions tended to come out as red-hot bursts and breakdowns.
A part of her, probably something very young and still very raw, was a bit jealous as she watched how easily BF, even after what they'd talked about and his continued denial of it, leaned against GF's shoulder. The wordless affection was something that had taken her forever to be afforded.
An older, wiser part of her existed now, though; one that could be happy for him.
Could be happy that he wasn't going to turn out like her.