Julian's panic grew when he saw the pills, and he rushed over to the stall door. "Sebastian," he started, voice cracking. He took a deep breath. Stay calm. Don't panic, that won't make him feel any better. "Sebastian, please come out and talk to me."
what no I'm not in too many one on ones
“I— I can’t—“ Sebastian’s voice quaked almost as much as his hands, which were desperately scooping up the pills and dropping them again. “Fuck— Julian please—“
“I— I can’t—“ Sebastian’s voice quaked almost as much as his hands, which were desperately scooping up the pills and dropping them again. “Fuck— Julian please—“
"I'm not leaving until I know you're okay," he said. His tone was firm, but not aggressive, and he surprised himself with how calm he sounded. His hand was still resting on his back pocket. If Sebastian wouldn't come out, he'd have to call an ambulance. "Sebastian, please. Just open the door, let's talk. I'm here for you."
He shifted backwards in alarm, sending his water bottle rolling under the divider between his stall and the next. Shit. No. Oh god— He flattened himself against it, breathing heavily. “Julian, please go. I’m begging you.” Desperate by now, he dug around in his pockets, finally pulling out a small pocket knife. Artery.. where’s my artery…
"There's no way I'm going to leave you here to die," he said. He's not coming out yet… should I call an ambulance? He thought. He took his phone out of his pocket, hands shaking so much he almost dropped it. "Sebastian, I'm going to call 911," he said slowly.
“No!” Sebastian jumped to his feet, swaying under the influence of his earlier drinks as his panic became almost unbearable. “Julian no— I’ll do anything—“ His voice broke on the last word, hands fumbling with the lock of the stall door. His pocket knife went skittering across the floor.
The knife slid across the floor and under the stall. Julian wasted no time in snatching it up and quickly put it in his pocket. He hoped there was nothing else Sebastian was going to try. "It's okay, take a deep breath," he said.
The door of Sebastian’s stall flew open as he stumbled through, unable to meet Julian’s eyes. “It’s not— it’s not okay—“ He hadn’t realized that he was crying until now, but his cheeks were wet and his eyes were puffy and his heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. “I was- I was going to be free— I was going to rest—“
"Why?" Julian said, cutting him off, though his tone was gentle. "What's going on? What's wrong?" He wanted to hug him, let him know he was there for him, but he didn't know if it would make things worse or better.
(Jensen, are you alright? What’s with the name change?)
Sebastian sagged against the wall, keeping his eyes glued towards the exit. Briefly, he considered making a run for it, but quirky abandoned the thought— Julian could call 911, and it would all be over. A desperation clawed at his heart, and his hands fluttered briefly up to his throat before lowering again. “Me. I’m wrong. There’s something wrong with me.”
(I just listened to a sad song and sometimes I change my username to one of the lyrics in it
but the lyric was too long so I shortened it a lot lol)
"Have you tried getting help? Seeing a psychiatrist?" He asked. He wasn't exactly sure what to say in these situations, but maybe if he kept him talking for long enough, he'd change his mind. At least for tonight.
(Oh lol sorry)
“No— no money. Can’t pay.” His sentences were short, cut off by both the alcohol in his system and his mounting need to do something. “I’m sorry— I shouldn’t be— burdening you—“ He made for the door, heart pounding.
(it's all good lol
I might change it to something else tho)
Julian panicked when Sebastian tried to leave, and he reached out to grab his wrist. For a moment, his calm demeanor broke, and you could hear the panic in his voice. "No, please don't. Y-you're not a burden, I just want to help. Please."
(Oof)
The contact only seemed to weaken Sebastian’s further. He steadied himself, looking back with pleading eyes. He could finish this at home. He could still do this. “The- The only way you can help me Is to— is to let me do this. I need to do this. Please.”
"No, you don't. You don't need to do this," he said. "Stay here with me, I can lock the door and we can talk things out. There's a better solution, I know there is. I promise."
“Why are you doing this?” he asked miserably, not moving from where his feet were planted. “Why do you want to help? I just— I just want it to be over. I’m begging you—“
"Because I care about you," he said. "I want you to live and at least have a chance at happiness."
“What chance?” Sebastian turned his head, as if searching for one. “I don’t see any.”
"Of course you don't. Depression doesn't let you see any chance at happiness, but it's there." He sighed, gently letting go of Sebastian's wrist so he wouldn't get uncomfortable, but staying close so he wouldn't try to run away again.
Sebastian’s eyes darted around the room like he was a caged animal. “T-Trust me, it’s not. Just—“ He tried one more time, though he knew it would be in futile. “If you let me die— it would be a favour. You would— you would be helping. Instead of living in constant hell— maybe I could have a chance at heaven. Or just rest. An end.”
"You don't know that for sure. Nobody knows what's waiting for us after this. And trust me, you can find happiness. There are therapists, medications, people who care about you that you can look to for support." He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he tried to calm himself down again. "Look, you're not going to convince me that this is a good idea, because I know what you're going through and I know this isn't the only way."
“Therapists and doctors that— that I can’t pay for.” Sebastian hiccuped, finally moving from the spot he’d been frozen to. “It isn’t the only way— I can continue living. But it’s- it’s the only way I want to take.”
"Other people can help you with the expenses. You're not alone in this." He felt himself tense up when Sebastian move, but told himself not to freak out. Not yet, at least.
I am alone. I am alone. I am alone. The mantra that had been replaying itself for years inside of Sebastian’s head resurfaced. “So what now?” he asked miserably, turning to the mirror. Disgust was evident on his face as he studied his features, disgust at himself. “Who are you going to tell?”
"It depends," he said, thinking for a moment. He had to choose his words carefully. "I'd like to see if there's somebody who you trust that I could call, and ask them to keep an eye on you tonight. But I don't have to explain exactly what happened. That's up to you do do."
I am alone. “There’s no one. I don’t- I’m not in contact with family. And there are no friends.” Sebastian traced the long scar running over the bridge of his nose, his fingers aching to wrap around the handle of a knife so that he could redo it properly.
(I’m so sorry! I don’t mean to intrude. This is just the only way I felt I could get in direct contact with Topaz. Topaz, I understand if you say no, but is there anyway you’d consider doing a role play with me? If so, I’ll create a chat so I won’t be disrupting this one. I’m sorry once more!!!!)
"You've got me. I care about you," he said. He wasn't sure what he could say to calm him down. It seemed hopeless, but he wouldn't give up. He also wasn't sure how much longer he could go without having a panic attack. His hands had started to tremble slightly, but he ignored it. The only thing he cared about right now was making sure Sebastian was okay.
(Oh hey there! I’m flattered you’re asking, do you want me to create a PM so we can talk things out?)