I'm too pretty for pain

[textualhealing]

WHO: Jeff and Joel
WHERE: Xavier School For imPorts
WHEN: Following this. One uneventful Sunday afternoon on 6th Sept.
WHAT: At Walt's request Jeff hires a professional to watch Joel, but even professional stalkers have to sleep. This thread is exactly why you should leave it to the professionals at all times.
WARNINGS: Violence, language, manly tears

[In hindsight deciding not to just pay someone for this shift was a pretty poor choice, but covering on a Sunday should have been simple enough. It was greed that swayed his decision, perfectly content to think about just how much money he could stash for himself by not hiring an extra body to keep eyes on the target. It was an easy enough shift anyway and gave Jeff time to laze around and catch up on the network while keeping half and eye out for any familiar faces. Nice weather, nice surroundings, back in time for dinner. No problem.

This wasn't his first time on this over the last month, but his visits to the school had been few and far between, starting timid and becoming bolder with each attempt. By now he seems comfortable enough in the gardens of the school, alternating the occasional idle wandering with leaning against a tree and texting to no one in particular.

No biggy, don't mind him. Just an imPort hanging around an imPort school. He's on TV, that means he can do that sort of thing without being questioned, right? Who needs subtlety when you're famous and also super lazy?]

Comments

[textualhealing]

[So goddamn rude.] Yeah. Well done. Doing a great job of keeping people off your property. Gold star for you. Why don't you go back to your pool cleaning, Pablo?

[shittybirthday]

[ Shove against the chest. ]

Do I gotta keep countin'?

[textualhealing]

[That's enough to finally get Jeff shoving back, one hand planting solidly against Joel's chest and pushing sharply.] Maybe you gotta. Or maybe you need to cool the fuck down.

[shittybirthday]

[ No chance in hell, not after what the guy said about Joel being an old man all over his seriously younger buddy. Speaking of which... how in the hell did this guy even know about that?

He looks like he's about to lunge at the guy and start beating the shit out of him. ]

You been spyin' on me? Huh?

[textualhealing]

What? No! I'm not... It's not like that.

[His lie might be a little more convincing if it hadn't been for what he'd said earlier. Yeah, so maybe he screwed up there... He's got enough sense to start backing up, at least.]

Look, I was a college teacher back home, alright? I thought maybe I could... do it again. So I hear about this place and I'm like 'why not check it out'? I swear, that's it.

[shittybirthday]

So, why in the hell are you sayin' weird shit about things that ain't your business?

[textualhealing]

Becaaaause... [Because he really likes pushing big red buttons that say 'do not push'.] ... I'm an asshole...?

[Close enough.]

[shittybirthday]

An asshole that's been spyin' on me.

[textualhealing]

I don't even know you, why the hell would I spy one you?!

[Just slightly desperate.]

[shittybirthday]

[ Joel lunges at him, grabbing hard hold of the guy's upper arm. Joel has superstrength, so dragging most people is like they weigh nothing more than a feather. He intends on dragging the guy down to the main road and dumping his ass in the gutter. ]

[textualhealing]

Hey--! [On the defensive until, yeah, he won't be countering that grab, especially when he feels the grip on his arm and just how easily he's manoeuvring Jeff. Winger just goes with it, because it's seriously not even worth trying to argue with a hold that's probably already forming bruises against his skin.]

... Wow, you are really strong. Do you lift, bro?

[shittybirthday]

I could throw you down the end of the street from here if I wanted to.

[textualhealing]

Nah. I'd rather you didn't. But thanks for the offer. [Such politeness to the guy hauling him around.]

Look, I'll just go home, you go back to your boy and we'll just pretend this never happened, right?

[shittybirthday]

[ They're almost at the edge of the main road. Joel comes to a stop but he gives the guy a hard shove. Definitely hard enough to send him sprawling out onto the curb. Your boy? Is this asshole goddamn serious? ]

You oughta be grateful you ain't walkin' home with a broken arm, although I'm seriously beginning to consider changing my mind.

[textualhealing]

[Jeff's stumble and flop to the floor is anything but graceful, landing hard on his ass and laying there for a second as he considers his options. He fucked up. He fucked up pretty big, and that's enough to get him huffing out an annoyed sigh as he pushes himself to his feet, more than just his ego bruised.]

Yeah, real scary, tough guy. Go sing some Taylor Swift.