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Chapter 5: The Social Implications of Roadside Assistance

Notes:

tada! sorry it took over a month, school has been killing me. can't promise it won't happen again :)
thank you again one million times to dmitry for being the world's most swagful friend and letting me bounce ideas off of you <3
enjoy!!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Most of the time, people were predictable.

A person was- aside from all of the fleshy nonsense- nothing more than an assemblage of traits that governed how they interacted with the world around them. These traits informed decision making, and by extension, behaviour. With enough observation, you could reverse-engineer your way into an understanding of just about anybody- at least, that was Green’s experience, and he was pretty confident that he was right.

For one, Green was an excellent judge of character, and that wasn’t just his opinion. Leaf, whom Green was pretty sure was the smartest person alive, had agreed with him. Really, she had called him judgemental (pretty much the same thing), and accused him of having a confirmation bias (he disagreed, so he ignored that bit). All of that was semantics- what mattered was that when it came to understanding the actions of others, Green Oak was almost too good. It was part of being a writer, he thought- the ability to create realistic characters could only come from the ability to get real people, and Green knew that characterization was his strongest point. 

Take Leaf, for example- she was driven by her deep intellectual curiosity, meaning she was open to new experiences. She was incredibly emotionally intelligent and, despite her passion, acted rationally. Daisy had a huge heart and was sometimes too compassionate for her own good, always trying to do what she thought would lead to the best common outcome. Green’s old boss had been a lazy opportunist, his first roommate had lacked forethought, and his new neighbour was a total fucking asshole. 

He was the most certain of that last one- there wasn’t any room for misinterpretation in the total callousness and indifference Cowboy Dickface had been showing over the past couple months. The man was a grumpy hermit who was fueled by hatred and hatred only, who had no interest in his fellow man or the bonds of community or Green’s hot ass in short shorts or-

The stranger nodded, motioning with his hand for Green to lead the way.   

What Green often forgot was that real people were not fictional characters. And Leaf was always right. What he thought was reality was rarely consistent with the world that most people experienced, and his assessments of others more often than not were broadly assumptive and inaccurate, which he of course would ignore since it didn’t serve his perspective. His own perception was just one part of what constituted social interaction- a fraction that he massively over privileged to the point of discounting anything else, which was the real reason he was always ‘spot on’ when it came to the predictability of others. 

Truthfully, Green wasn’t nearly as good at unconditional positive regard as he liked to believe he was. Sure, he gave others the benefit of the doubt, but only until the point that it stopped benefiting himself. Maybe he still had a lot to work on, but none of that really mattered in the present moment, did it? 

Green, forced to face the fact that he didn’t understand people as well as he thought he did, had a decision to make. Did he do the rational (but difficult) thing of realizing the flaws in his assumptive worldview and vow to work towards becoming a more compassionate person? Or was this a stupid question because obviously Green Oak’s stubborn ass doubled down on his bullshit without a second thought to the idea that he might be wrong?

He should have been in a tricky spot, accepting help from someone he held so much vitriol for, but cognitive dissonance was one of Green’s strengths. Of course he hated his neighbour, and quite frankly, this new interaction only served to justify that hatred even further! He wasn’t quite sure how, but once he figured it out… well, he’d cross that bridge when it was time or however the saying went. In the present, he had to show his fuckass neighbour why Green Oak was not someone to count out. 

With the absolute manliest, most ‘I know how cars work’ swivel of his hips, Green turned to walk towards his truck. It took thirty seconds at most to cross the driveway onto the dirt road, but without any conversation to fill the dead air, the time dragged on horribly. He was tempted to comment on the brightness of the stars above or the mating calls of the katydids in the brush lining the ditches, but Green held his tongue. The man was just agreeing to jump his truck, no need to get all buddy-buddy now. In fact, Green was so committed to keeping the upper hand in this interaction that he resolved to not say anything until the other man did first. Yeah, that’ll show him! 

Reaching the broken-down vehicle, Green once again half-spun around to face his neighbour, jutting his hip out and resting a hand on his waist in what was surely meant to be an intimidating pose. The man’s face, for perhaps the first time since they’d met, actually told Green something about the way that he may be feeling behind that stoic expression. He looked deeply and horribly concerned- confused, almost- as if he couldn’t figure out what wasn’t wrong with Green’s truck. Which, yeah , his truck had definitely seen better days, and those better days may have been before Green was born, but that didn’t mean he had to be rude about it! And yeah, maybe Green had asked this stranger for help with his truck, making everything wrong with it pretty relevant to him, but he wasn’t asking for help reattaching his rear-view mirror or replacing his dented hubcaps, he needed a jump. He could go see a car specialist later. 
The man seemingly finished his visual diagnostic and shifted his gaze to start scrutinizing Green instead. It seemed like he was waiting for Green to start yapping, and had it been any other time, that would’ve been precisely what went down, but not tonight. Instead, Green just stared back, almost daring the man to say something. Two could play at that game. 

For a few seconds, neither man moved. It was all of the tension of a high-noon shootout between the world’s cuntiest sheriff and an inexpressive outlaw. Green drummed his fingers against his hip, like he was itching to reach for his trusty pistol. It was his neighbour, though, who drew first. He moved his hands from where they’d been shoved into the pockets of his housecoat, taking aim at Green and-

The man mimed unlocking a door with a key. 

“What?” Green’s challenge was almost reflexive, an unsuppressable expression of being struck dumb. All in all, his vow of silence couldn’t have lasted any longer than a minute before being broken.

 Maybe only one could play at that game.  

His neighbour blinked at Green pointedly before repeating his earlier gesture, this time with a bit more force. 

“You need my keys?” Green guessed, already fishing through the front pocket of his shorts before receiving confirmation. He passed the keyring to his neighbour, who remained entirely nonverbal. What kind of sick power play was this guy pulling? He’d already gotten Green to break the silence, so their standoff should have been over. 

Quiet as ever, his neighbour walked past him and to the driver’s side door of the truck, opening it before beginning to feel around the inside. It took a few seconds, but the man found what he was searching for, and the truck’s hood popped up with a rusty groan. From the pocket of his coat he produced a small flashlight, clicking it on before placing it between his teeth. He prodded around in there for a couple minutes, and with the way his sleeves had been rolled up past his elbows, the well-defined muscles of his forearms provided Green with a welcome distraction from the increasingly intolerable chill of the night. Contrary to popular belief, a hoe does indeed get cold from time to time, and Green was starting to shiver. Even though the sight was heavenly, he really wished his neighbour would stop poking around in his engine and just get the jumper cables already. 

Finally, the man pulled away from under the hood, looking at Green with some odd mix of wonder and disappointment, as if he could barely believe just how bad of condition the truck was in. He opened his mouth to speak… before shutting it almost immediately. 

Because nothing was ever that easy.

“What’s with the silent act, jackass?” Maybe Green was being a little bit harsh, but after all that he’d suffered that night, he was entitled to his short temper- at least, if you asked him. It wasn’t just that night, either- it was two solid months of being ignored outright- of being cast aside and treated like a pariah. The exclusion was past the point of being permissible, and he had had more than enough of this man’s bullshit. 

Even with his prompting, the man refused to speak to him, and Green was getting annoyed. 

“Listen, I don’t fucking care if you want to be a hermit, you can die alone and happy and that’s fucking fine by me. But do you really not have the decency to respond when you’re spoken to? How far is your head up your own ass that you think that it’s okay to treat people like this? What’s wrong with you?” Green was definitely poking the bear at this point, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He needed answers, or at the very least to inspire some introspection in the man staring blankly back at him. 

Said man began patting around the pockets of his ratty housecoat, coming up empty in his search. What was he doing now? 

His neighbour raised his right fist, extending his thumb and pinky finger and holding it to his ear like a child pretending to take a telephone call. With his left hand, he alternated between pointing at Green and his fake phone. Was he… asking for Green’s phone? Did he not have his own? What was going on? 

Too confused to do anything but comply, Green reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cellphone. The cracked LCD display of his lock screen showed, among other things, a slew of Grindr notifications from the man he had been going to see. Those could be dealt with later, though. In the meantime, Green needed to figure out what the hell his neighbour wanted. Only one way to do that, so he punched in his passcode and handed the phone over. The man tapped and swiped a couple times before typing something quick and passing the phone back. 

He had written down a message, which Green inhaled deeply before reading. 

Fuck.

Notes:

please like and comment let me know what you think all that jazz or whatever. my head hurts :)

Notes:

yeehaw! come be my friend on tumblr we have a lot of fun over there