Work Text:
JOSH: I...was...trying to change my boring life
So I moved to NYC!
It chewed me up and spit me out
The Big Apple laughed at me
Now back I go to California!
Couldn't handle the rat race
Tail between my legs, I'll run home
To my parents' place!
CHORUS: He's an underachiever!
JOSH: What? No, I'm not.
CHORUS (Josh's mother and father): An underachiever!
JOSH: Guys, that's not fair.
CHORUS (Valencia and White Josh): He's an underachiever!
JOSH: When did you get so mean?
CHORUS: He's just wasting his life!
JOSH: I'm doing what?
CHORUS: U-N-D-E-R
JOSH: Don't say it…
CHORUS: Underachiever!
****
Josh knocked on the rectory door with a thump-thump-thump. He'd thought about banging out the rhythm of “Without Me”, 'cause guess who was back? He was back! But it was probably a bad idea to knock on a priest's door with a song that had curse words in it. Hey, what happened to those songs in Father Joseph's brain?
Father Joseph swung open the door. "Dude! You're back!" He pulled Josh into a hug and slapped him on the back a couple of times. It was awesome. People in New York didn't seem to like hugging, even bro hugs. Josh had missed bro hugs. And fist bumps. And even fake-out handshakes where you moved in like you were gonna shake but then you ran your hand through your hair and said “Psych!”
Josh got in his thumps and then put Joseph at arm's length. "When you became a priest, did you have to forget all the songs you knew with curse words?"
Joseph's eyes and nose crinkled as he laughed. "No, of course not. God's fine with artistic expression. Think about all of the naked people in really old paintings.”
“Ew, do I have to?”
“Come on in,” Joseph said, stepping back into the apartment. “I'll get you a Red Bull."
Josh plopped down on the couch. Man, he loved how this place smelled like incense and old books. Just like Jesus.
Joseph popped open a can and handed it to him. "So how's it going?"
"Fine, I guess.” Josh took a swig of the Red Bull and then fiddled with the pull tab.
“Fine, you guess? That's not good.”
“Fine is good!” Josh protested.
Father Joseph gave him that priest look. Priests always knew when you were lying, which was weird, because Joseph never used to know when he was lying. It must be one of those things that God gave you when you were ordained.
Joseph said, “Fine isn't as good as good. Or great.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Josh said. “It's a little weird being with my parents again. I can't sit on the couch in my underwear and watch the Kardashians. My mom makes me put on a robe."
Father Joseph nodded. “I hear that, man. The guys in the seminary had the same rule.”
“And she keeps looking at me like she's disappointed.” Josh pictured his mom's expression when she'd picked him up at LAX. Not really a frown, but not really a smile either. A smile-frown. A...smown. Was that a word? It should be a word. It sounded way better than a frile. Turn that smown upside down! But then you'd still have a smown.
“She just wants you to be happy. It can be hard for parents to let their children go in the first place, and now you're back, so you're both probably reverting to old patterns.”
Josh spread his hands and sloshed a bit of the Red Bull over the rim. “Did you take a class in parents or something?”
“Hey, man, I'm a priest. I'm no longer your old friend Joseph Lim. I am now a healing shepherd.” He opened his arms wide and pretended to gather Josh in, until Josh started sputtering with contagious laughter. “Come on, man, you're harshing my shepherd vibe!”
Of course, Josh had to do it. “Baaaaaaa!”
Father Joseph slapped at his hand and make a fake grab for his Red Bull can. “You better not pull that next time I'm saying mass.”
“Yeah, right. My mom would kill me.” And whack him with a hymnal, and probably lecture him about how Jesus always respected his mother. Sometimes Josh got tired of hearing about how Jesus felt about things.
“So the house is feeling a little small, huh?” Joseph asked, leaning back in his chair. “Did you think about moving in with Valencia?"
“I mentioned it,” Josh said. “Once. My dad made a bad face, and my mom had a fit. You know how she is about Valencia.”
Joseph winced. “Yeah, she is definitely not Valencia's biggest fan.”
“Wait a minute,” Josh said. “Should you even suggest that? Isn't that living in sin?”
“Okay, yeah, technically. But you have to minister to the flock you're given, you know?” He shrugged and propped his feet up on the coffee table between them, nudging aside a copy of Sports Illustrated. “I could tell you that you shouldn't be with Valencia, but you wouldn't listen, and you'd be all weird about coming to me for, like, spiritual guidance.”
“It's kind of creepy even thinking about you thinking about me and Valencia.” Even saying that made pictures start to appear in his head, so he had to start thinking about game six of the 2002 World Series until it was safe to not think about it any more.
“Gotcha,” Father Joseph said. “New topic. How was New York?”
“Fine, I guess--”
Father Joseph signaled a time-out with his hands. “Come on, dude, again? You gotta have feelings beyond fine.”
Josh squirmed on the sofa. "The subway was kind of cool. Except when it smelled. Mostly like pee.” He wrinkled his nose reminiscently. “Everyone was just so mean all the time."
“It's New York, man. Things move at a different pace there.” Joseph paused for a second. “At least, that's what they say on Friends and Law & Order.”
“I know, and I know it was the right thing to come back. I love it here.” Josh pointed at the window, filled with afternoon sunshine. “The weather! The breeze, the boba tea, all of it.”
“Only two hours from the beach!”
“It's just like – like I never left,” Josh sighed. “And that's good, but it's bad too. Valencia only made me apologize twice.”
“No jewelry? When you guys had that fight in tenth grade, she dragged you into that Claire's at the mall and didn't let you out for like an hour.”
“No,” Josh said, shaking his head. “But she knows I don't have any money.” He downed the rest of the Red Bull. “Do you still have your Xbox? We could play some Madden.”
Uh-oh. There was the priest look again. “What's your, like, goal in life? And you're not allowed to say beating me at Madden. As if you could.”
“I need a goal?”
Father Joseph swing his feet down from the coffee table and leaned forward, folding his hands together like he was praying. “Well, you don't have a job. You don't have an apartment. You sure don't have a good jump shot.”
“Dude!”
“I'm just saying, you're living with your parents again. You're back with Valencia. Maybe you need to figure out who you are when you're not with them.”
“I just tried that!” Josh exclaimed. “I moved to New York.”
Joseph said, “No, you moved to New York instead of trying to figure anything out. You--” he pointed an accusing finger at Josh “--tried to take a short cut.”
Josh suddenly flashed back to Sister Angelica in third grade pointing that same finger at him when he tried to explain why he was late to class. The pointing finger, the priest look – God must have a whole bunch of moves he gave to priests and nuns.
“Yeah, I guess I need a goal or something,” he admitted. “Maybe I ought to find a job first, though.”
Father Joseph moved over to the couch to sit next to Josh. “You're like Clark Kent, dude, with the glasses and the reporter thing. You gotta figure out how to be Superman.”
“Damn, bro, that's, like, profound,” Josh breathed. “I mean, Father Joseph. Oh, wait, Father Bro-seph!”
“Dude!” Father Bro-seph held up his hand for a high-five. High-five achieved! “I always wanted a cool nickname.”
“Let me keep working on it,” Josh said. “I bet I can do better.”
***
JOSH: I'm just a dude that's chill
CHORUS: (Chill chilly chilly chill)
JOSH: I don't like situations with any pressure
CHORUS: (He's a laid-back bro)
JOSH: Got no job, got no worries 'cause I'm so relaxed
My personality's great but ambition's what I lack
They say chill's just like lazy
CHORUS: Therefore you can't call him lazy
'Cause when you call him lazy
You're just calling him so chill!
JOSH (bursts through the screen): Dude!