Chapter Text
At approximately 11:49 PM, Ben stumbled out of the nearly empty school gym, only the stoners and teachers left, with the weight of what he had done that night in one hand, and a half-empty beer bottle (that he had just bought) in the other.
He didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or forget about it. After some time of contemplation 2 streets away from the school, he found himself lost in the streets, and his beer bottle empty. Fishing in his pockets for a quarter to buy another, he carefully traced his finger along something metal. No… not a quarter… not even a coin… the ring. A shock of realization and panic came over him. What the fuck did I just do?!? He tried to steer his mind elsewhere. Shit. Donna is gonna be PISSED— No, wait… Lola is probably gonna be PISSED too. I mean, she’s already— Shit. Shit . There was no escaping his mind now. His anxiety-ridden conscience finally caught up to the carefree drunk version of himself. Why did I do that?
He tripped over himself to rest on a bench. While wrestling with his brain, he didn’t even notice the tears streaming down his face until the chilly breeze swiftly wiped them away. Why. Why? He secretly knew why. He just had to let the ‘why’ in. But it was hard, pretending to be perfectly okay with a seemingly perfect life, while struggling with so many things under the surface. He had a stable(ish) long term relationship, a sister that loved him, and… a best friend. Well… did Ricky see Ben as a— best friend? Were they best friends? Ben recalled what it was like to have a best friend, to his friendship with Stuart. Did best friends cuddle all night long? Did best friends dance tenderly in each other’s arms? Did best friends stare at each other for so long their faces inched closer and closer? Did best friends imagine their faces so close that they could hear the other breathing and— His tears had dried. He knew. Now he knew why.
Ben’s recently enlightened, but still drunken mind quickly came up with an idea; that was to call Ricky. He stumbled over to the nearest telephone booth he could see. His heart was racing out of his chest as it practically took control over Ben’s shaky hands to dial the number.
“ Ricky. ” A familiar voice questioned.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“ I really like you. ”
“… Brookie? Is that you?” Ricky asked, his body now standing up straighter.
“ Yeah.” “I’ve- I found it out. You see… everything is fake. ” A knock on what seemed to be on glass echoed through the call. “ Everything is fake— everything in the world is fake. It’s like… you know…”
Ricky felt a wave of shock flow through his body, causing him to stand up even firmer.
“ The glass in the booths, they’re not even real.”
“Ben.” Ricky’s voice got more firm.
“It’s— it’s plastic!” Chuckles could be heard through the line. But not normal ones. Not the ones Ben had.
“Are you at a telephone booth?”
“ Hmm? Exactly. ”
Ricky knew what was happening with Ben. He’d seen it so many times before. When his dad called him while he was still downtown, drinking the night away, he’d have to take care of himself for that night. How he’d worried if his dad was ever coming back home.
“ All the people are fake. They’re made out of metal… ”
Ricky’s grip became tighter on the phone, as he started to put his jacket on.
“ But I like you. And that is not— it’s not fake. ”
“Hold on— I’m coming.” Ricky’s voice panicked. “Just- just stay right there.” Ricky’s voice trembled as hysterical laughter erupted out of Ben, like he had been possessed. The line soon hung up as Ricky sprinted to put on his shoes and to get on his bike to find Ben. Ricky could feel the cold wind piercing through his face, but his hands sweat, making the grip on the handlebars slip. Still, he rode so fast, because he knew he couldn’t loose Ben to this— not like his father had been lost to for so long.