xp_logs | Forge and Jay, Saturday afternoon

After the events of the past two weeks, Jay decides to try and see if he can't help his roommate deal with his issues.

Jay had read Amanda's post about her friend at least a dozen times. He
knew that he'd been friends with Forge, too, but he hadn't recognized
a significant change in Forge's attitude. Yeah, he spent a bit more
time by himself than usual, but he was never Mr. Social to begin with.
It worried Jay. He didn't want to see his friend not coping and doing
something dumb.

So a fun distraction was in order. It was the middle of the day, so
chances were that Forge was in his lab. The muffled sound of the crap
Forge called music emanating through the closed doors told Jay that
his assumption was correct. The doors swung open as he approached
them, and he (as usual) winced as the full force of the racket smacked
him.

"Yo!" he shouted over the din, trying to get Forge's attention.

Forge kicked off from the wall, rolling across the floor on a small
wheeled cart, welding glasses pushed up on his forehead. Snapping his
fingers, the music cut down to a background murmur as he swiveled
around, coming to a stop and sitting up in front of his roommate.
"Mister Joshua T. Guthrie," he said with exaggerated pomp, "rock star
of the future, idol of millions - what can I do for you today?" He
checked both wrists before realizing he hadn't brought a watch down
with him. "Shit, did I lose track of time and miss dinner again?"

Jay snorted, amused. "Naw, it's still early. M'just bored. Ah've
already read Hamlet, like, half a dozen times. Ah could recite his
soliloquies word for word. So Ah'm takin' a bit of a break from Dr.
Grey's homework. Ya wanna go out and catch a flick, then go grab
dinner? Le's get the hell outta here for the day."

"I am all about getting out of here," Forge agreed, rolling in a
backwards somersault to his feet, albeit awkwardly. "Going to need to
change and shower, though. I smell like solder and burnt plastic." He
indicated the day's work with a nod of his head, a series of circuit
boards wired to what looked like two exposed speaker cones. "Sonic
testing. For Terry. She asked if I'd give her a hand discovering just
what she can do with her powers. I was reading a bit from her last
physical workup - holy crap, her mutation's amazing." Forge spoke as
he walked around the bench, wiping his tools down almost obsessively
and putting each one back in its proper place. Finally, he stripped
his gloves off and walked around to the door.

"Shower, then we bail. Sounds like a plan."

Jay was leaning against the wall as Forge clean up, arms crossed,
still wearing a rather amused expression on his face. "When're you
gonna build me somethin'?" he joked as they left the lab for their
suite. "We've been livin' together for almost a year now and ya
haven't made me even a little robot canary. Ah'm hurt, man, hurt."

"Did I mention that I tried to make you a guitar last month?" Forge
piped up. "But then I kep adding stuff and more stuff and it ended up
as a submarine." Playfully punching Jay in the arm, he laughed,
walking backwards up the stairs to continue the conversation.
"Seriously, though. I take requests."

"Build me a kick-ass guitar and ya'll have mah undyin' devotion,
dude," Jay said jokingly. "Ah could be the first underwater rock star.
But Ah don't think that Jules'll be too happy 'bout bein' replaced."

Forge pondered that for a moment. "You're on. I'll need to watch you
play a lot more, though. See if I can't design something specifically
for what you play, and how. You know, like how a Formula One race car
- that's like NASCAR, only cooler - is designed specifically for the
driver? Like that." Forge stopped in front of the bathroom, tossing
his shirt in the general direction of the hamper before shutting the
door and raising his voice to carry. "You know, Les Paul - the guy who
invented the electric guitar? Created it because he only had one
working arm."

"A fella after your own heart," Jay quipped, leaning against the wall
so he could be close enough to hear Forge over the sound of the
shower. "And Ah know what Formula One is. Remember where Ah come from?
Everyone's inta racin'. Mostly NASCAR, yeah, but there're a few
rednecks who go for the more elite stuff."

Forge laughed, rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his hair and
killing the shower, toweling off quickly. "Yeah, I know Illinois isn't
like Kentucky totally, but Doctor McCoy's parents? Totally cool
people. Farm's a nice place to visit, but I'd go nuts living there.
They sure do feed you well, though. If that's country cooking?" He
walked out of the bathroom, searching around for a clean shirt,
absently rolling his left shoulder, letting the water bead off the
metal, "it's no wonder you Guthries all grow up like you do."

Jay snorted. "S'a wonder we ain't all like those poor folk on
Springer who're too big ta get outta their houses," he shot
back, grinning. "Livin' on a farm is somethin' ya gotta grow up with.
The City Mouse/Country Mouse thing is too true. Applies ta me, at
least. Ah hate cities with a passion. Heh, and yet Ah wanna be a rock
star."

Forge shrugged into a polo shirt, tying his hair back. "I don't think
anyone's going to mistake you for a city mouse by listening to you,
man. Hey, did you know your sister's accent really comes out when
she's tired? It's kind of cute." Forge ran a hand over his jaw,
decided to forego shaving, then stumbled aimlessly searching for a
shoe. "So since I've been bouncing from road trip to farm trip to
wacky X-Men jet trip, what're YOU doing with the summer? Thinking
about getting back into the clubs to sing?"

Jay stiffened a bit at the comment about Paige being cute, before he
reminded himself that it was just a futile crush. Forge had admitted
such. No romance there. Get over it. Forcing his body to relax, he
attempted a smile.

"Talked ta Alison 'bout that a coupla weeks ago. Ah think Ah'm gonna.
That club where, uh, stuff happened? Was a great place and Ah'd love
ta play there again, but Ah dunno if Ah can."

"So long as you don't go kissing any bigots in the back alley, you'll
be fine. Dude, the people there loved your set." Forge was emphatic,
shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't imagine how you wouldn't want
to keep that going as long as possible. Play music, be loved, get
famous, play for everyone. If you ask me," he shrugged, "it's
inevitable. You're gonna do it."

Okay, that made him smile. "Well, we'll do what we can 'bout those
bigots. The problem ain't that Ah don't wanna play there. Just
that Ah don't want people associatin' me with what happened. Pityin'
me, thinkin' Ah'm so dang brave for comin' back. S'a stigma. It'd be
depressin'."

Forge shook his head some more. "It's not pity. It's showing them you
can't be beaten. It's taking all this shit out there that doesn't make
sense and you can't understand, and coming out stronger. It's about
not giving in, it's about accepting support when you get it. Yeah,
folks are going to remember the bad stuff that happened. But that's
not why they come to hear you, Jay. It's because you're good."

"Ah reckon Ah'm the lucky one, then. Comin' out strong thanks ta you
guys. Ah'm like 50 Cent or Gloria Estefan," he chuckled. The image of
him rapping, or stranger yet, dancing the conga in a sparkly dress,
was enough to send Jay into a very short fit of giggles that he tried
to cover by coughing.

"Hey, we're here to support you, man. Don't you ever forget
that. You need anything, you can come to any one of us. Me, Kyle,
Terry, even your brother and sister, you know we'd be here the moment
you said the word."

Forge paused, realizing he'd almost been shouting. "Um, sorry," he
mumbled. "Been a bit of a sensitive issue for me there lately. I, uh,
well, you probably read Amanda's post about Charlie."

Ah, there we go. Jay had been waiting for this opening. Offering Forge
a smile, he put his hand on Forge's shoulder and offered a sympathetic
squeeze. "Ah know, man. And yeah, Ah read it. Ah dunno what ta say.
Didn't know the fella, but Ah can't imagine that he'd do such a thing
iffn he didn't really feel completely lost, never mind how wrong he
probably was."

Forge let out a long, shaking sigh. "I just wonder if there was
something more I could have done - but I know there wasn't. He should
have known that he could have come to us, but he didn't. And that's
what I'm angry about, that he would just be so damned stupid."
Looking down, Forge slowly unclenched his hands that he'd balled up
into fists. "Like he didn't think we'd be there to help. He should
have known better."

"It ain't easy ta understand unless ya've been there. Hell, even Ah
don't get it sometimes. Did he . . . was there any kinda note
explainin' why he did it? Any idea what his problem was?"

Forge just shook his head, removing his glasses to wipe his eyes.
"None. I know he had problems with his mom, and I don't think he was
too popular at school, but that didn't seem like something that'd
cause... I mean, shit, I've been there! And I know how stupid I
was because I didn't think I had anyone who'd care or listen, but he
knew he did. He knew!"

Drying his eyes, Forge replaced his glasses and stood up, as tall as
he could. "Fuck it," he said to no one in particular, then looked at
Jay. "I'm not that way, you know. I know better. I can see what I've
got, and I know better. I'm not like that."

"Ah know you're not," Jay replied quickly but with conviction. "Ah
know, man. Ah could make excuses for Charlie, but they're probably all
wrong. What goes through your head when ya make a decision like that .
. . it ain't logic." He shrugged in defeat. He had nothing else to
say, no more excuses to make. "Ah dunno, man."

"Me neither," Forge agreed. Trying his best to put on a smile, he
looked past Jay to the door. "So, hey, you want to get out of here? I
think I need something completely brainless and stupid to take my mind
off this crap. Movies?"

"That's the plan, my friend. How about The Island? You can spend the
flick complainin' about how they got cloning all wrong."

Forge snickered, reaching for the doorknob. "Sounds good to me.
Cloning. Hah. Nothing but the sinister fantasy of science fiction. But
hey," he said, stepping into the hall, "I can ogle Scarlett Johansson,
you can ogle Ewan MacGregor, and shit'll blow up. It's a plan."