I knew he was right on the couch, but I'd imagined a scenario where I screamed and he came out of the bedroom with a worried look on his face...so I went ahead and screamed.
"I know what a Duplicate is," I said, trying to make my distress obvious in my voice.
Of course, the pouting and arm folding probably worked just fine, but I had to make sure.
"And what is it?"
I sat down next to him and told him what I had just found out. He only laughed a little, which just upset me more. He was supposed to agree with me and support me, not laugh at me.
"Are you upset that Morgan showed her lazy, uncreative side with us, or are you upset that I have a wife?"
"Babe, you know in this world you're the only one I want,"
"Aw," I wasn't expecting something sweet to automatically come out of his mouth.
"Your wife, however..."
"Don't be silly, Gee...even if I was a tiny bit straight, you'd knock that right outta me,"
"Literally or figuratively?"
I placed a soft kiss on his smirking lips. He kissed back for a moment, then pulled back. His expression hadn't changed, but I could tell his thoughts had.
"Were you alone with Phoenix?"
Was that still worry he felt about Phoenix?
"Yes," I replied simply. "Why?"
"Because he's got nails like a samurai sword!"
"Frankie...even if he's human, he's a batshit insane human,"
"Every human is batshit insane,"
He gave me an irritated look. "Not. Like. Him."
"Well, okay, you've thought about Phoenix's nails again, now what about our species, or whatever the fuck it is?"
"Actually, it makes me feel better about myself,"
"Frankie...have you seen what she makes? I'm normal compared to those creatures. I've never felt this normal before in my life,"
"She still took us and stole 'choice' from our vocabulary,"
"Yeah...but you could look at it this way...in real life we couldn't be together...here we can get married and do whatever we want...we can do it together...forever...and ever..."
He kissed my neck as he said this, making me smile. His hand went to my waist and gently caressed it. It wasn't his hand that he wanted me to feel, though...it was something below his hand that he wanted me to feel.
Dammit, he won.
I zipped up my pants and looked back at my sleeping boyfriend. He didn't look peaceful, per say...more like slightly retarded. But I could tell he felt peaceful, and I couldn't interrupt that. Especially after he'd been so truculent lately.
Staying in the room with him, however, didn't appeal to me. I was bored, and I'd spent so much time in a hotel room in the past month that I felt sick. So I snuck out the door as quietly as I could, determined to go somewhere, anywhere, even if it got me in trouble. Especially if it got me in trouble.
But not outside. I'd had enough experience with outside.
I bet she has a graveyard, I thought.
Then I paused, waiting to see if she'd respond. She didn't, though, so she must not have been listening for once. So, satisfied that no one was watching me, I started toward the elevator. She hadn't shown us every floor, since apparently even she didn't know how many floors were there, so it took a while for me to find it. First I went to a chapel by accident - a completely different place than I wanted to be. Then I went to the skateboard park, a really fuckin' weird place for an elevator to take you, by the way, and received some uncertain looks from its inhabitants.
Finally, after watching the elevator doors open a million times to reveal a million things I didn't want, the doors finally opened to reveal several rows of chairs in front of a coffin, centered in a grassy plane pierced with headstones. I didn't see a soul on the left - ha, pathetic graveyard humor - or in front, so for some reason I assumed that meant no one was there. I went right and started wandering aimlessly, occasionally looking at names on gravestones and seeing if they led a long life, or if someone thought about them recently and decided to adorn their graves again. Then I turned around and wandered without really looking where I was going. Until I saw feet in my pathway.
I jumped a little. Right behind the canopy in front of a freshly adorned grave stood a woman only slightly taller than me - I hate it when women are taller than me. She had short black hair, and, truthfully, were I to rate her on a scale of one to ten, she'd be a five at most. She didn't appear to be crying, and her long-sleeved yellow shirt and dark jeans didn't give her a depressed aura, but her face did have a grieved expression. She jumped slightly, too, when she saw me in awkward proximity.
"Oh!" I said.
"Oh, ah, hi...what are you doing here? I mean- I'm sorry, that's...not...something you ask someone. I'm sorry,"
"No - it's - I'm sorry, I-"
I didn't really know what either of us were sorry for anymore. I just knew they were words being said, so I said them.
"I'm Frank," I said, hoping to put an end to the awkward "no"s and "I'm sorry"s.
Why were we introducing ourselves? It was a fucking graveyard. You have an excuse to be a loner in places like that.
She paused before adding, "You're not wearing a tutu."
"Ah, no...I usually save that for the stage. Usually,"
"Right," she half-laughed. "How long have you been here?"
That was an interesting question. Was that a typical question for people here to ask?
"Sorry, I know that's a weird question, but you just...seem new,"
"I see you and Morgan fighting sometimes, so-"
"You mean verbally or mentally?"
Now she looked confused.
"Verbally. Of course, a lot of people are fighting with her now, because of...the ones from outside,"
"So I'm not the only one who knows she's a bitch,"
Oops. I guess it's not nice to curse in front of someone you just met. Especially Mary, apparently, because she winced once I said that.
"She's...tempestuous. But I can't blame her,"
Oh dear, now's the scene in the musical where they reveal the secrets of the mysterious-
"I should go now," she said.