The Outsider

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"You wonder why I'm thick, but I think that's self-explanatory, isn't it? It's not my fault your parents actively imprisoned me in this house. Had they taken me out into the world, I wouldn't be so dumb about it, would I? It's your fault, this is all on you and those parents of yours. I loved them like they were my own, but they had their faults. If you want to blame me for mistaking people's intentions, you have your folks to blame for not educating me with experience," he snapped back in reply, his own feelings taking a hit... especially when he couldn't really be blamed for his naivety. He had a damn good reason for it, after all.

"Even if they don't like me, I still had a kiss out of it all with a cute girl who chose to spend her time with me. Drunk or not, it was the most fun I've ever fucking had. Beating that little friend of yours up was fun because he deserved it-- do you want me to go, is that it? Because I can."
 
"If you had just listened to me and take this slowly, you wouldn't have beaten the only chance at me having friends. Is that what you wanted? I'll have no friends, a-and now I won't even have you because you clearly hate me," he continued, his anger simmering and simply being replaced with sadness. "Look, I... I don't care, go leave, I.. have to work for school, and I'm just tired. Do whatever the hell you want, I don't care." He declared, though it was obvious that what he was saying wasn't true. In fact, he wanted nothing more than for Milo to stay and actually talk to him.

"I'm going to take a shower and stay home. I have homework due tomorrow." He murmured before returning to the bathroom and closing the door, the sound of the lock being heard.
 
Having spent years with Maxwell, he saw through him most times. He could tell that he didn't want him to go, that he preferred him to stay and talk things through, but Milo wasn't necessarily in agreement. Had his friend come out and been open about wanting Milo to stay, he would have done easily. Instead, he didn't have the patience sitting around waiting for him when Maxwell had told him he didn't care, however false that was.

With just a few dollars left in his pocket from the splurge out on the town last night, he made an exit without hesitation. He didn't entirely know what he was going to do, or where he was going to go, but spending time exploring Chicago more didn't seem like a bad idea.
 
"W-Wait, wait!" He quickly insisted, grabbing onto Milo's arm when he heard the door open. Holding onto his arm right, he looked away in embarrassment at how needy he seemed . Pressing his head into Milo's arm, Maxwell exhaled hard.

"Look, if you're going to go out, at least let me come so I can make sure you're okay," he murmured. "I... I don't want to be alone, okay? I lied. I just.,. It's not as safe as you think, okay? Remember that one time I came home with a bruise and chipped tooth? My friend and I had gone too far downtown and we got beat up. I know you think you're all tough but... I don't want anything to happen to you."
 
"I don't need you holding my hand, I don't want you to be this... protective. I can defend myself-- but oh yeah, I'm so thick, right? I'll probably walk right out into traffic because I don't understand what danger is," he replied drily, his sarcasm souring each of his words. Never before had he argued like this with Maxwell, but clearly, this was an argument they needed to have. Without it, Milo would be stuck indoors with no experience of the real world. Now, after their argument, Maxwell was willing to watch him head out. It was a huge step forward, even if he didn't appreciate being called stupid. It was an insult that stuck, unsurprisingly.

"...I need a mobile phone," he finally sighed, pursing his lips. "Maybe you can come and get one for me? Georgia gave me her number and I... need a phone to call her. It'll be useful for me to have one. I can call you if I get in trouble, right?"
 
"You could always not get in trouble," he suggested quietly. "If you're so insistent I stop talking to Ricky, you shouldn't talk to this Georgia girl. It's hardlt fair, yeah? Look, I'll save up some cash to get you a phone but it might take a bit. I want to save the money for bills and necessities only, you know? Phones aren't cheap, Milo. If you're going to go out, you can't just spend money compulsively. Like... I would rather I try and integrate you anyway instead of you just deciding to run about Chicago haphazardly."

Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair before glancing back at the bathroom with a frown. "I genuinely need to take a shower before we go, okay? Please don't run out without me... "
 
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"Ricky's an asshole who's using you for sex. Georgia's nice, sweet and she hasn't got ulterior motives. If you were interested in befriending anyone else bar Ricky, I'd be your biggest cheerleader, Maxwell, you should know that I only want you to be happy. I'm naive, sure, but I know Ricky's bad news. I don't think that should stop me getting to know Georgia better," he shrugged in reply, his expression clearly conflicted. He didn't think it was right of Maxwell to demand he stop seeing the girl he was clearly interested in... but he also didn't want to parade his blossoming friendship in front of Maxwell, when his own with Ricky might be dead in the dust. He liked Maxwell far too much to ever cause him jealousy or upset, even if that meant destroying a chance of being friends with someone he genuinely felt attracted to.

"...I won't see her again. I suppose I got carried away. She was probably drunk and just wanted someone to be around, and I'm naive enough to think she liked me-- nah, you're right. I won't see her," he promised with a sudden grin, this time being honest with his words. "Let's both take that shower, hm? I don't get drunk, I think I'm immune to that, but I still stink of alcohol and it's nauseating, really. We'll take a shower and... and maybe just go out and you can show me the city properly?"
 
"Ricky isn't just using me for sex," he protested weakly, though a very, very small part of him already knew that. He always grew nervous when it came to making new friends yet Ricky latched onto him on his first day at university. It was weird but it was nice, to have someone who liked you and put so much effort into making you comfortable. Out of everyone at school, Ricky was the only person who approached him first to be polite. All the friends after that we're simply following Ricky's lead.

"Even if he did only want me for sex, it's not like I'm getting any action - with a girl! I just... I mean, I'm 18 now. You go out and you already have a girl on your lap," he added with flushed cheeks before stepping out of the way. "... I want to take separate showers, I'm not really, Ah... good right now."
 
"...She was drunk, Maxwell. I highly doubt she even remembers me. You said that yourself, and you know more about drunk people at parties than I do. If you were sat in the corner, I'm sure she would have sat on your lap and kissed you and stuff. I was in the right place at the right time-- though I did like her. Getting attached to someone who probably can't recall me isn't wise, huh?" He awkwardly laughed, doing so mostly to recover from the rejection. Having shared a bath with him the morning before, the sudden rejection from Maxwell did confuse him.

He thought that they were at least trying to get back on track, and this seemed like a step back. Of course, he was unaware of Maxwell's crush on him. Despite his insistence he knew Maxwell in and out, the fact he failed to notice his feelings stated otherwise.

"...Right. You take your shower, that's... no, that's fine. You don't want to share with me, I take up all the room and use your favourite shower gel, so... that's fine-- yeah, go and shower. Hurry up, though. I want to head out as soon as possible."
 
Offering a shy smile, he carefully closed the door and started up the shower. Not only was he showering alone because he felt awkward about his crush when Milo clearly didn't share the feelings, it also gave him an excuse to cry as hard as he wanted without being heard by the other. It was often what he did when he was sad as a child, though those occasions were rare. They were never as bad as they were at that moment, What with the stress of school, his parents death and now Milo crashing down on him like a pile of bricks. A good sob in the shower alone would at least release some of that pressure.

It would be a good ten minutes before he left the shower, hopeful that Milo hadn't heard his crying and that his reddened eye was subtle enough not to be noticed. Once dry, he wrapped the towel neatly around his waist and put on his eyepatch like usual, offering another nervous smile once he headed to his room. "It's all yours. I used cold water so you could have the warm."
 
"Hey, I don't need a shower. I figured we could just... hang out here for today? I made you some breakfast, if you want it. You're hungover, Max. You need to rest, and what sort of friend would I be if I left you to go and selfishly do my own thing? No, we'll stay here and just relax today. You need a break. Forget homework, forget college. You really need to relax. I know I've put a lot of stress on you, so... I won't do anything to stress you out today," the alien remarked, having changed into his pyjamas and settled on the couch during Maxwell's time in the shower. He had plenty of time to go and explore, but he wasn't going to do that when Maxwell evidently needed him at home, to relax with. That trumped any desire Milo had for adventuring out into the world, for today at least.

"We can watch some of those reality shows you like, order in some junk food and... enjoy ourselves? I do feel bad about last night, so... so call this a sort of apology, if you want. And I'll even find something to put over the hole in the wall. We could just stick some paper over it, you know? We don't need to pay to have it fixed-- though I don't see the problem. I thought your parents were rich?"
 
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"I only got their inheritance money, it comes in waves of cash every month and it isn't going to last forever," he explained quietly as he rummaged through his closet, his own comfy boxers and his favorite torn up maroon sweater. It was pretty obvious what his preferred choice was. Maybe he took going out for granted because he found nothing better than just sitting casually at home, bundled up and falling asleep on Milo.

"You... don't understand and I don't know how to explain it," he admitted with a nervous laugh. "It's complicated legal stuff that they haven't really explained to me. If you... if you want a phone, we'll have to cut back on food, for example. Luckily my parents bought the house and finished the mortgage so we don't have to worry about that, and the cable bill isn't too high. It's just... a lot of managing, plus I have school which is its own thing, a-and of course I have to pay for you while trying to keep some social protection in case something happens. My father insisted that networking is important, you know? This probably all sounds like gibberish..." he whispered before exhaling and taking a seat beside the other.
 
"...And there's nothing I can do to help? What about a job? I know you don't like me heading out and you're worried, but it'll help, right? I didn't know you were under this much stress, Max. I... feel bad. You're doing all this and money's tight and I'm... not helping at all," he grimaced, his smile faltering a little once the reality seemed to kick in that everything wasn't as easy as he had assumed - but that seemed to be the story of his life. He assumed things were one way, but it turned out it was far more complex than he had imagined. For someone that was kept inside a home for years, that was hardly surprising.

"...Look, I... don't need a phone if it's too much trouble," he began with a frown, moving to wrap a supportive arm around his friend. "I want to fit in, but not if it creates financial difficulties-- I'm not selfish, Max. Whatever you think, I do just want to... help you."
 
"You can't get a job, you're not a legal citizen. You don't have a birth certificate or anything," he explained, albeit reluctantly. He didnt like making Milo feel different, and often tried his best when he could to make him feel like a regular human. The reality was that Milo wasn't, nor would he ever be. When the other wrapped a hand around him, he blushed bashfully and nervously fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater.

"It's fine, I'll figure it out," he reassured before daring to rest his head on the alien's shoulder. "I'm... not too worried yet - I mean I am, but it's easy for me to pretend everything is alright right now. Maybe after midterms I can focus on this all more."
 
"...You need all that stuff to get a job? I... didn't know that. It's really not as easy as I thought it'd be, is it? Like, my view of the world is so... so much more simpler than the reality. It's really disheartening-- but look, I'm glad you're telling me straight. I want to know about how things work, Max. Don't hold back from telling me the truth. Your parents never did that," he informed, though he knew that was hardly a surprise to him. He had been kept in cotton wool his whole life with Maxwell's parents.

They had educated him, but never really told him any of the things that he would need if he was a functioning member of society. He knew his times tables, for example, but he had no idea how to get a job, or even if he could, because that was never in their plan to let him leave the house at all.

"Look, it's... fine. You'll get a great job, earn a ton of money, and... and we'll be fine."
 
"Hopefully. I might get a job working at the coffee shop down the road during winter break to earn some extra cash, yeah? My parents, they... sort of abandoned us at a shitty time," he admitted quietly. He had spent plenty of nights thinking about how they had left the two with nothing, really. No proper goodbye - at least, not that he was happy with - or any plans. It just... happened, unexpectedly. Staring at the television quietly for a moment, he eventually grabbed for the blanket that sat on the top of the couch.

"Let's not talk about it, please? I'd... rather talk about literally anything but the future right now. The past is awful, too, but it gives me a lot less anxiety," he explained honestly before moving to rub his forehead, all of the thinking beginning to give him a migraine.
 
"So can we talk about me maybe hanging out with some people I met at the party last night?" He asked instead, his smile widening a little at the opportunity to pose the question. He didn't want to aggravate him further, but he didn't think it was so unreasonable to want to make friends and form a few bonds with some of the people he had spoken to at the party. Especially when Maxwell seemed to be so hung up on creating those sorts of connections.

"We could invite them here if that makes it easier for you. They all seemed nice, they said they go to your college, so maybe this is a chance for you to make friends outside of Ricky, right? They could get to know you and... you said that it's important to keep up a certain appearance or whatever. You could do that and I could just have fun."
 
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"Oh, n-no, I don't know if that's a good idea..." he replied warily, his cheeks reddened as he absently fiddled with his sweater. "I was hoping it would just be me and you today, to be honest. People tire me out, you know? I can only handle people for so long before they wipe me out," he explained, knowing that he probably sounded crazy. After all, he consistently went to parties.

"Listen, there's a reason I come home tired every morning, aha... besides, the only reason I know them is through Ricky. If they found out what happened - which they probably did - why would they want to talk to me?" He continued quietly, though offered a smile nonetheless. "I gotta think about it - I know one thing, let's treat with some pizza? Or maybe we could walk to, like, McDonald's and just get some fried junk."
 
"Because they'll see you're a cool guy and then realise they don't need to follow Ricky to make decisions on people? I don't know. They liked me, I think, and Ricky hates me. I think they're capable of forming opinions without him hovering around them like a possessive creep-- that was harsh, but it's true, so don't yell at me. He is a creep. He befriends you just for sex? If it's not creepy, it's just pathetic," he ranted under his breath. He didn't want to drag the conversation on, especially when he felt he had already dealt with the Ricky situation, but he wasn't sure Maxwell understood quite yet just how much of a creep the man was. If it took repeating himself until his throat was raw, he would do just that.

"...McDonald's would be fun. I liked the food there," he admitted eagerly. He was happy to stay inside today, but if Maxwell was suggesting they head out, he wasn't going to pass the opportunity up. "Can we go there later, then? Maybe we'll bump into some people and make new friends, yeah?"
 
"Jeez, I think you underestimate how horrible I am at just making friends. I'm jealous, you're approaching this with so much confidence," he commented with a nervous chuckle before bundling himself up in the blanket.

"Did you really like that girl? Georgia? Like, would you ever picture a life with her?" He questioned after a moment as he set a hand on Milo's thigh. "She seemed boring."
 
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