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[this is most certainly not his apartment.
the thought comes without a second's hesitation, because once he notices that he's not in the aforementioned studio apartment with the leaky ceiling anymore, he begins to panic. not outwardly, at the very least – it's all internal, because he's a master of hiding how he feels if he really needs to be. something he's derived from years of having to hide his emotions from others, just for the simple fact that before his brother had left, he'd practically worn his heart on his sleeve.
strange, how things change, when the one person you love the most leaves without so much as leaving a goodbye letter.
he doesn't speak out loud; there doesn't appear to be anyone around him that could answer, anyway, so there is no point. but he does start walking. he strikes it strange that the soles of his worn-out sneakers don't make a sound when they hit the ground with each step, but then again, this is a ground with stars on it – in it? – so he doesn't expect something as normal as that to apply here. he's only been on the plane for a few seconds and he's already figured out that this is a really weird place.
darren walks, and he walks, until he reaches the information kiosk. the word itself displayed so blatantly across the top of it had been what initially caught his attention, and as he slips over, he sees the brochures. there for the taking, he supposes, he reaches out and nabs one, opening it carefully and squinting down at the words.
what the hell ..
and he sits down, right next to the kiosk, legs folded underneath him as they most often are when he settles in to read something, and he just keeps on going.]
the thought comes without a second's hesitation, because once he notices that he's not in the aforementioned studio apartment with the leaky ceiling anymore, he begins to panic. not outwardly, at the very least – it's all internal, because he's a master of hiding how he feels if he really needs to be. something he's derived from years of having to hide his emotions from others, just for the simple fact that before his brother had left, he'd practically worn his heart on his sleeve.
strange, how things change, when the one person you love the most leaves without so much as leaving a goodbye letter.
he doesn't speak out loud; there doesn't appear to be anyone around him that could answer, anyway, so there is no point. but he does start walking. he strikes it strange that the soles of his worn-out sneakers don't make a sound when they hit the ground with each step, but then again, this is a ground with stars on it – in it? – so he doesn't expect something as normal as that to apply here. he's only been on the plane for a few seconds and he's already figured out that this is a really weird place.
darren walks, and he walks, until he reaches the information kiosk. the word itself displayed so blatantly across the top of it had been what initially caught his attention, and as he slips over, he sees the brochures. there for the taking, he supposes, he reaches out and nabs one, opening it carefully and squinting down at the words.
what the hell ..
and he sits down, right next to the kiosk, legs folded underneath him as they most often are when he settles in to read something, and he just keeps on going.]
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