Math worksheet did you hear about

What started as a panicked attempt to get her over-intoxicated friend to a hospital ended up in a disastrous car crash that claimed the lives of her friends... and a careless God crossing the street. But Sammi's adventure wasn't about to end there. In her dying breath, the God curses Sammi to take up her mantel. Now with her three friends resurrected as ghosts, Sammi has to navigate the tricky world of godhood.
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I love houses. House flipping, house hunting, crazy properties in town, gorgeous exotic vacation destinations. I think in a past life I was a real estate agent. Or a carpenter. Interior designer, actually, probably. Maybe just rich?
Doesn’t matter. I love houses, and I was gonna get myself the best digs in town.
“Best digs in town might be a liiiiittle suspicious?” Joni said as I began adjusting the filters of my favorite search: Lottery houses.
“So do you… we’re looking for a house?” Cara was leaning over my shoulder, watching as I pushed the Rooms, Cost, Square Footage, and Bathrooms options as high as I could. “Cause if you don’t even own a place, I feel like saying you’d answer my questions when we got to New Olympia is kinda a blow off.”
“Not a blow off,” I said. “This probably won’t take too too long. I just don’t want to kick anyone out of their house that, like, is a regular person living their life.”
“Kick them out?”
I paused and looked up at Cara, eyes serious. “Please. The parroting. It’s making me nervous.” Then I looked back down and began sifting through various mansions, penthouses, lake houses, villas. “For sale or for rent?”
“For rent,” Blair said immediately. She propped her head up on her chin as she watched me scroll. “Then you don’t gotta kick anyone out.”
“She’s got a point,” Christopher said. “Both from a, like, humanitarian point of view but also from a logistical point of view. Whoever’s moving needs the money pronto to buy a new house and they’re gonna constantly be dealing with banks and shit. You’d need a new lie a day just to keep them off you. But with rentals and all, first off, landlords renting out ten grand a month properties are already making bank off other units. Yeah you’re screwing them over, but not as bad. They got a buncha others. Second, you pay monthly, so you really only gotta fend them off once a month.”
My thumb jammed the “For Rent/For Sale” switch, and I cranked up the rental price. “What else are we thinking for criteria?”
“Middle of town’s a bad idea,” Joni said. “Too easy to find us.”
“We don’t have to, like, hide though,” Christopher said. “Just say you’re both out on bail. I mean, the point is to find Miller and bring him to justice, right? That’s gonna take time. There’s no place far enough out of town that we could hide in for long.”
I squinted at him, tearing my eyes away from a sexy seven bedroom manor with two pools. “What?”
He sighed, as if convinced that I was in the wrong for not understanding what fuck he just said. “Like, think about it Sammi. We’re not actually gonna be able to hide. Or if we are, it’s gonna be in an alley or some shit.” He wrinkled his nose at the same time I did. “They’re cops with detectives and shit, and they think we shot someone and broke someone else out of jail. They’re gonna find us. We’ll have to lie, not hide, to avoid being put back. So may as well be local to all the action.” With this, he pointed directly at a lofty unit in the center of town.
Hmm. He brought up a valid point, so I checked it out.
A five bedroom penthouse with three terraces giving outdoor views of the entire city. Bathrooms that put the hotel to shame. Closets the size of my old bedroom. A pool deck. Appliances with fancy brand names I only ever heard on episodes of “Dream House” and hadn’t actually realized existed in the real world. Enough bedrooms for me, Cara, and the ghosts to each sleep separately.
For a moment, the enormity of it washed over me. Not just the enormity of the house, though it was enormous, but the reality of what I could accomplish. This apartment was twenty five thousand dollars a month. I’m not entirely sure I’ve made that much money in my life. Or, okay, probably around that, but that’s my point. This was the kind of unit rich people showed off in out-of-touch blogs or escapist shows about the lifestyles of famous people. And it could literally be mine if I could play my cards right. Or not even right. Just not catastrophically wrong.
Cause I was a God. And for the first time since becoming a God, I was using my abilities, my status, my familiars and shit to do something cool. Not rob a TechShack of some earpods or break in or out of a hospital.
This was a big yield.
As I had my little epiphany, Cara had taken over scrolling my phone, much to the relief of my ghosts, who’d started grumbling about the static screen while I zoned out.
“Okay.” Cara looked at me. “I’m not gonna ask any of the questions you know I want to ask, cause that’ll just piss you off.” Thank God she was learning. “So we’ll skip that for now and ask the really important question. How are you gonna get your hands on this place?”
–
Step 1 was to get to the place, which kinda sucked, given we were still at Pizza Dogs. It just wasn’t a very cool start to the coolest scheme I’d ever pulled off. Luckily Pizza Dogs closed at 9, so a solid number of people were leaving the restaurant. I was able to wave down a waitress who’d just checked off of her shift and convince her she was a taxi driver.
“You’re really loving this whole taxiing thing, huh?” Christopher said.
“At least she’s not talking like a robot trying to use slang.” I grit my teeth at the memory of Cops Cop and Taxi Service.
“No, you just told her she was mute.” Blair stuck her lip out. “That’s mean, Sammi.”
“I told her she couldn’t talk. That’s different.” I gave Cara a weak smile, but she hadn’t even commented on my ghost talking. She just buried her face in her hands. See? Learning.
Step 2 was gonna be actually getting in the unit. The listing on HouzeHunting didn’t exactly have the name of the landlord on it, so I was gonna have to get creative getting in touch with them. What it did have was ‘24 hour doorman service,’ which meant getting in would be easy peasy.
Finally we pulled up to the address I’d given our driver. 1732 East Windham Street. She leaned out the window, looking up the seventy story building.
“It’s totally appropriate for you to talk now,” I said as I scrambled out, towing Cara with me. No sense in actually making her mute for life.
The woman nodded. “You, uh, live here or visiting? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I flipped my wad of black hair over my shoulder, wincing at how singularly it moved. I shoulda combed it after my bath yesterday.
“Live here, obviously.” I gave a rich person kinda snort, nose in the air and all.
“Huh.” She looked back at me, rubbing the back of her neck as if it was sore from craning up so high. “But you needed a taxi to get here?”
“Uh.” Rich people used taxis, right? On the ladder from Sammi to Bill Gates, someone had to use them, and if I couldn’t afford a taxi normally, then the typical passenger must exist somewhere above me. “My fancy personal car got towed cause I was parking it in a fire lane.”
The woman didn’t look convinced. Not that she thought I was lying, but she still looked at me like I was dumb as dirt. “You don’t have, like, a personal driver?”
I cocked my head at her, trying to mirror Joni’s sassy tilt but probably just looking confused. “Are you offering?”
Her lips parted, and I could see her brain chewing on this question. “What do you… wait, are you being serious?”
Was I? Suddenly I wasn’t sure. Having a personal chauffeur could be kinda great. Someone always available to text or call when I needed a ride so I wouldn’t have to keep remembering where I left my car. Besides, driving made me nervous. I’d never been a particularly bad driver, no prior accidents, never really hit anything in the past, unless we’re counting bumper cars. Which we’re not, cause I’m a menace in bumper cars. But that’s like the point.
Or, no, the point was, I wanted to minimize driving, and this woman could be key. Of course, I knew nothing about her. What if she had a family at home and I told a too strong lie and she never saw them again?
But then, she wouldn’t be offering if she wasn’t serious, right? Sure I’d lied and told her she was a taxi driver, but the average every day taxi driver didn’t just ditch their families to be rich people’s chauffeur’s.
“Uh. Yeah.” I looked at the ghosts. Two thumbs up from Christopher, one from Blair, and two thumbs down from Joni. That was a total of one thumbs up, if my math was right. “Yeah, I pay ten thousand a month.” We could figure that out later.
The woman’s eyes shot open. “Okay, you’re actually fucking with me. You’re actually offering to hire me for ten thousand a month.”
I nodded. “Yeah. And you can… I mean, if you got your own place, you can stay there obviously but you could also stay in one of my bedrooms. I got some extra ones I was gonna give to the gho–uh, dogs. But I don’t have dogs, so you were next on the list. Well, a chauffeur was next on the list. But also if you’ve got–do you have a family?”
Each of my statements plunked out of my mouth like gumballs out of a broken candy machine. But she just kept nodding like this was a normal proposal.
“I mean, I had a boyfriend.” Her face flushed crimson. “Kinda embarrassing to say at my age. Thought we were–” She took a deep breath. “Thought he was the one. I’m not gonna say I was looking to have kids or anything, so I suppose age doesn’t matter, but that doesn’t mean I really want to start over. Five years wasted is all, and at my age, the well starts to dry up a bit. People look at you a bit…” She blinked. “I’m sorry, that’s not really what you asked, was it.”
It wasn’t entirely, but I was kinda hooked on the story now. “Yeah it was,” I said. “It was the first question in the interview, and you’re nailing it. Uh, you actually already passed the first round. Let’s take the rest inside.”
The woman let out a shaky breath and smoothed her frizzled hair. “Right, of course. Thank you so much!”
Cara had, thank God, kept her mouth shut this whole interview process, so I just towed my newly formed posse towards the doorman.
“My key got lost,” I said confidently and too quickly, noticing way late that there weren’t any visible keyholes anywhere on the door. “Uh…” I looked nervously at the ghosts.
“Just tell him someone said he should let you in,” Joni said.
“Yeah.” Blair smiled. “Carl from management.”
“No–”
“Carl from management said you should let me in,” I said, bowling over Joni’s protests. “I own that top penthouse suite. Suite 72. The one for rent. Or, not for rent cause I’m renting it now. And I called earlier because my key is broken and Carl your manager said–”
I stopped finally because the doorman had long since stopped frowning perplexedly at me and had just tapped his card against the door.
“Haha,” I said, verbalizing the laugh a little too hard. “Look at me, talking too much as always.”
He frowned again, but nodded nonetheless, before holding the door open for me. “Here you are.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, stepping in like a real fancy lady. “I’ve got it from here.”
And, because I was stupid and always spoke without thinking, he nodded and shut the door behind me.
So technically Step 2 ‘get in’ was done, but it was like, barely done. Like when your mom says ‘go to your room’ so you sit in the doorway. Cause I wasn’t really close to my new apartment yet, which meant a new step on the list. Step 3? Get into New Olympia.
Somehow a little sneaky ‘Step 3b, interview your new chauffeur’ had snuck on the list too, but that would be easy to finish once I got to the actual unit.
It was literally impossible to keep my jaw in its socket as we walked through the lobby. I was actually straight up speechless at how fancy it all was. There was a bar in the lobby, like this was some hotel! Given my experience with rich people things, it was either totally free or thirty bucks a glass. Still, it was pricey enough that I should probably have been charged just for looking at it. Even Cara and the driver had their mouths gaping open as they looked around, taking in the mirror shiny marbely floors and columns.
I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, and really tried to capture this moment of peace and quiet inside the lobby of my new home.
“Blair stop humming, they’ll be able to hear you.”
“I’m using my regular humming, not my banshee humming.”
“My bad, shoulda clarified. I’m able to hear you, and you’re annoying me.”
“Joni, why are you always so mean.”
“She’s, like, kinda got a point. You need to get that stick out of your ass.”
“I’ll get the stick out of my ass when Blair stops humming.”
“Bro, it’s totally more than the humming, and you know it.”
“Is singing okay?”
“No.”
“What about–”
“Why don’t you just whistle, Blair?”
“That’s not nice. You know I can’t whistle.”
“Kinda my point.”
“Hey, be nice to Blair, Joni.”
Peace and quiet were overrated anyway. We were here for schemes.
My eyelids snapped open. In front of me was a big old reddish wood desk. The sign on it said “Main desk, open 7AM to 9 PM.” Next to it was another, more temporary sign, “Partial Service After Hours. Ring Bell For Assisance.”
My eyes drifted hungrily to the shiny golden bell. It was the kind you see in movies and shows, you press down a few times to summon the waiter or whoever sits behind the desk.
“Just once, Sammi,” Joni said, already reading my mind. “You ring it once.”
“But Joni,” I whispered, hand hovering over it, “I’m a God.”
DING DING DING DING DING DING DING
Seven was overkill. The man was there after the first two rings. But I couldn’t stop. It was too satisfying.
He regarded me with pained eyes. “Ma’am, you didn’t have to ring it that many times.”
“I didn’t,” I said confidently. And just like that, the pained look vanished. He didn’t look comfortable though, probably because I didn’t look like I should be there. Time to fix that.
I jutted my chin out. “Is there, like, a master key to all the elevators and units you can give me.”
The guy blinked rapidly. “I’m… sorry, you want what?”
“Lies, Sammi. That was a request!”
This is why we needed Joni and the stick up her ass.
“Uh.”
“Tell him that… I don’t know, someone from management said you could borrow a skeleton key.”
I smiled. “Carl from management told me I could have a skeleton key. A, you know, a key that opens all the doors.” I gave Joni a panicked glance.
She motioned her finger in a repeating loop and mouthed ‘go on.’
“And.” I swallowed. “You said you would give us one.”
The concierge sighed. “I know. I know. I just.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Carl doesn’t manage my department, so if this isn’t the right call, Sandy’s gonna have my head.”
I eyed the ghosts nervously. The lie had worked but it didn’t seem to fully convince him. “Sandy said…”
“Keep it simple,” Joni hissed.
“...that you would give me a key to let me in?”
“Right, please hold a moment, it’s almost done transferring.” The concierge paused and looked at a key card on his desk. He squinted before picking it up and beeping it against a little card pad. It flashed red. “I’m sorry,” he said. “The transfer didn’t go through right. One moment please.” Then he typed on his computer for a few very long minutes while Cara, the driver, and I all stood frozen by the elevator. After several breath-holding moments of silence (yeah, now the ghosts decide to shut up) he tapped the card again and it flashed green. “There we go.”
I let out a long breath before scuttling over to pick up my card. “Thank you!” I said, a cheery forced grin on my face. “Thank you so much! Remember, this came from, uh, Sandy’s boss, and she told you not to tell Sandy, so keep it zipped!”
He mimed zipping his lips as I waved again before rushing to the elevator.
Soon we were zooming up dozens and dozens of levels as my breathing came more and more naturally. Even the elevator was fancy. All golden mirrors, which Blair was staring at, disappointed that she couldn’t see her reflection in them.
There was no one on the seventy second story and ther was only one door, at the end of a gleaming hardwood hallway. My black boots clomped awkwardly as I escorted the driver–still in a bright orange shirt with a barking dog and a slice of pizza on it–and Cara–still in an orange jumpsuit–towards the door at the end.
Once I got there, I tapped my card, and we were in.
I don’t really have good words to describe the place. Huge, for one. Empty for another. Those were the two big ones. I could have gawked at it all, but I was a little tired of gawking, so I filed away ‘tour my house and get it fitted out’ for later. Besides, I had all my gear and shit still in my car… somewhere. I’d get it up here eventually and then the real decorating could start.
But there was a first step. Well two first steps. Okay, technically only one could be the first step, so we’ll do that first.
I waved Cara to join me in one of the bedrooms.
“I’ll finish your interview in like, fifteen minutes,” I said to the driver. She nodded.
“Okay,” I said, closing the door behind me and plopping down on the ground.
Cara stood awkwardly, eyeing the big ass empty room with a big ass empty bathroom off to the side. “Okay,” she said, still standing. “Do I need to–”
“No no, I said I would…” I trailed off, lips pursed and confused. “You wanted… Or… I was gonna tell you–”
“Oh shit yeah.” Now suddenly Cara was on the floor across from me, leaning in. “You’re telling me what the fuck is going on.”
My breath rushed out in a long woosh as I contemplated how to start this. Joni had made a snarky comment at one point like ‘pushing this off won’t make it easier’ and I’d responded with a ‘I’ll come up with a plan while I delay’ which of course I hadn’t, and now I was angry cause Joni was right.
“So the problem is,” I said, starting slowly. “Everything I tell you, you’ll believe.”
“Obviously,” Cara said, believing me instantly.
“But no one else but me knows what’s going on. So I can’t help but…” I trailed off again, noticing Cara nodding animatedly. This wasn’t working. I wanted her to believe me cause she fully understood and accepted my story, not cause of magic. But to get that, I couldn’t be the one to tell her, and the only other people who knew about my godliness were the ghosts and–
I smacked myself on the face. Sammi, you’re a genius. An actual, mensa accredited whiz kid.
“Blair,” I said, smiling. “I think I’ll offload this to you.”
Blair frowned, scrunching her nose up for a moment, before pointing at herself. “Me?”
I nodded confidently. Blair knew everything but lacked the Verity Tongue. This would be a sinch.
“Cara, how do you feel about a little ghost story?” I shivered a bit, getting goosebumps at my own words. Now that lead-in was brilliant. ‘A little ghost story’, who came up with that? I was getting smarter by the minute.
“Oooooooooooooh.” Blair zoomed around the room, and Cara leapt to her feet.
“What the fuck?”
“Bewaaaaare moooooortal,” Blair droned, pitching her voice low. “For the story you’re about to hear is both dreadful and awwwwwful. Fear for your soul for those who hear this story are cursed and will find themselves in an early–”
“Blair!” I shouted. “Stop that. What the fuck? Literally not like that. Like literally anything but that. You need to start with–”
“Yo, Sammi, dawg, chill.” Christopher patted my back. “We’ll help her out.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to taint the story with your god powers,” Joni said. “We’ll sort Blair. You interview the pizza waitress.”
Suddenly my genius felt like the opposite of genius. Yeah, delegation was important, but I did want to hear what the ghosts were telling Cara. Didn’t I need to know? What if they told her something totally wrong and stupid? Or what if they said something mean? Like what if they really played up the part about my reckless speeding? What if they lied about something? Made me look incompetent.
I opened my mouth to protest, but Christopher just gave me an icy pat again.
“Look, you’re gonna jump in to correct something we say, and it’s just gonna fuck up Cara.” He gave me a serious look, one of the most serious looks he’d given me since this whole ordeal. Which was honestly kinda stupid cause of all the times to pull out there ‘seriously, Sammi’ face, he was picking now? Was this really the right time for this? “Seriously, Sammi. We got this.”
I didn’t believe him at all, but they were absolutely right about me likely fucking this up with my motor mouth. No way was I sitting still while Joni made snarky comments about me, like, eating gross bagels or telling cops to steal poop.
“All right,” I said. “Come out when you’re done. Or if you need hands at all. Like if she passes out and you need to check for a pulse.”
“Are you talking to me?” Cara said.
“No. I’m talking to the ghosts.” And with that I closed the door.
Looks like Sammi's got a house! And maybe a minion or two on top of her familiars. Let's see how Cara takes all of this...

I’m in the second semester of Computer Engineering/IT. It’s really complicated to explain the specific major because it’s new and if I were to explain it, it would be a mix of Computer Engineering and IT (Bachelor of Engineering). I started in the winter semester of 2023 and right now I’m struggling big time.

1. Subjects. Last semester it was Mathematics A, Physics 1, Programming 1, Introduction to IT and Technical English. Out of all of them I passed Intro and Technical English. I feel like I don’t understand a single thing from Math A and Programming 1. Physics 1 was relatively easy to understand and hard to study/ do the tasks, but it was understandable. Mathematics A was a complete disaster where I absolutely have no idea what’s going on. With Programming A it’s a bit different. Programming “hello world” for the first time was a moment of happiness for me but Programming isn’t just coding it’s learning about algorithmic thinking and problem solving, which I highly struggle with. This semester I have Mathematics B, Mathematics C, Programming B, Physics B, Electrotechnical Basics, Algorithms and Data-structures. After the few first weeks I just started to skip out on the lessons, because I would sit there and not understand anything. The major consists of 7 semesters, each having 6 subjects. I’ve been told that that’s too much but people but they having majored in engineering (social studies and so on) so I’m not sure if what they’re saying can be applied here.
   
2. The lack of basic knowledge I lack basic knowledge in programming, mathematics and physics. I’m not talking about high school math and physics. I’m talking about college level. I never realised how high school classes didn’t teach us properly until I reached university/ college and realised this is the just top of the ice berg. Like I said, I lack problem solving through algorithmic thinking which is the bases of this major (or what was taught in the first semester).
   
3. Possible retaking first semester subjects Right now I think the best course of action is to repeat first semester subjects and truly pay attention 100% this time. The problem is that I have no idea what to do this semester because it literally just started. Is it normal to just skip a semester or barely come to lectures/seminars because of this reason? I literally understand nothing so what’s the point of sitting there and possibly bothering people?
   
4. Not understanding how to study Engineering isn’t like other majors from what I hear. Or forced you to teach yourself how to study and how to study specific things. I recently watched a video trying to explain why CEOs are predominantly (former) engineers and everyone tackled it down to: a. Learning how to study; b. Knowing how to problem solve. I’ve established that I lack the problem solving skills right now and I’ll admit I have no idea how to (self) study. I came fresh out of high school where teachers are not only responsible for you and your academics but also responsible for educating you on certain topics. When you don’t understand it’s repeated and repeated and repeated over and over again. University is mostly self study. Do I know how to do that? No. Am I trying? I am. But trying is not enough when results are not showing. I have concentration problems (not ADHD or anything). I’m easily distracted ESPECIALLY when I have no idea what’s going on. I’ll eventually tune out the lecture and scroll on Reddit or something.
   
5. Burnout Yeah, I barely even started and I’m burnt out. People around me aren’t though. They can all already program in C, C++ and Python (what we covered in those two semesters/ what we’re covering and learning right now) as well as Java(script) and more. They’re ace-ing all their tests and while they struggle with exams they’re at every lecture and fully concentrated. It’s embarrassing trying to continue with their pace especially with group work. Literally yesterday we handed in an assignment where I was the “incompetent partner that did NOTHING” and I could feel my partner had enough of this bullshit and even called me out on it, which felt humiliating.
   

Is this a sub for crying engineering students that just started out? I have no idea. Am I just using this to vent and rant? Absolutely. I’m asking for help as well. Or as much as internet strangers are willing to do. I have no idea how to study. I have no idea how to concentrate. I still really want this. I want to finish my bachelor of engineering. I want this, that and the other thing. And I know I can find the motivation to continue if I just knew I’m not throwing away the next years of my life to not graduate at all in the end. I’m just stuck.
Has anyone been through this? Has anyone else experienced this? Can anyone please give me at least a tip on ONE subject not just everything just ONE THING.

I (19M) grew up in a big family (I was the second oldest of seven). I had an identical twin brother who died when I was young. The rest of my family passed in a house fire a few weeks later whilst I was on a school trip, and I was left in care of my godfather.
My dad was known in our community as a great person. He'd make sure his kids (us seven) followed in his footsteps and succeeded in everything we did. My brothers were good at sports, my sisters too. They were all academically successful too. I was as well, more academically than sport related. I just excelled in different things than my siblings (I played baseball rather than football and basketball, and I was great at science and theory but everyone else was good at English and maths). It was like I was always the odd one out. There was never really any sort of disagreement and argument between us at all and we were all treated fairly equally.
That was about thirteen years ago when they passed. I was recently contacted by the university that my dad used to guest lecture at in his free time. They had an old interview in 2011 (a week or so before he passed) of my dad which he opted to participate in as some students needed it for their assignment.
I watched the video, thinking it was going to be heartwarming and such. But it was the complete opposite. During the video, he was asked if he was proud of his children's achievements. He said he was, but in terms of me, he wasn't. He was disappointed and expected so much more. He said that I should do more than what I 'enjoyed' because it wasn't good enough and it gave him a bad name. He also said that he wished it was Billy (my twin brother) who survived that day not me because he would have been so much more successful. During the interview time, I would have been six.
I just don't really know how to feel or how I'm supposed to feel. When I was younger, I knew I wasn't the same as my siblings but that didn't mean I was failing at anything. In the things I did do, I'd argue I was fairly successful. But hearing that from your own father, about you when you were merely six years old hurts a lot more than ever expected.
I just don't understand how I'm supposed to get past this. I guess it's even harder now that I can't even have a conversation with him as he's no longer around. What can I do to ease the pain I'm feeling from his words? Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

A few months ago, my building's committee organized a small party for everyone living in our building to bond. It included some dancing and singing at the beginning and ended with a fancy dinner. My father was in charge of the food. During the party, the food arrived before dinnertime to ensure it was fresh and was set up on the buffet table. My dad went over to check if everything was up to standard.
Unfortunately, my neighbor, who is also my classmate, was there. He’s known as the class clown and is quite popular on Instagram for the funny stuff he posts. He secretly recorded my dad and posted it on his story, labeling him as someone who only comes for the food and can’t even wait for it. He also mentioned that he was my dad and added goofy music in the background. The whole school saw it, and needless to say, the next day wasn’t pleasant. A few people mentioned it and brushed it off as a joke, but I was dying inside and knew I had to get back at him.
Now, this guy is terrible at math and knew he would fail finals if he didn’t cheat. His roll number was after mine, so he always had to sit behind me. Throughout the year, I helped him pass the exams, but now there was no way I was giving him any answers. He realized this just before the math exam and offered to pay me a few dollars if I helped him pass.
I couldn’t believe his audacity. Not only did he ask for help after making a joke about my dad, but his offer was also ridiculously low. I was about to cuss him out but instead said, "Sure, you don’t need to study at all. I’ll tell you all the answers to the multiple-choice questions and you’ll pass for sure."
The exam time came, and I gave him the answers. After the exam, I asked him for the money, and he laughed and said, "I’m not giving you anything. You really thought I would pay you?" I laughed back and said, "You really thought I would help you pass after what you did?" He was shocked and I told him every answer I gave him was wrong. His expression was priceless; I wish I could have recorded it and posted it on my story.
A few weeks later, the results came out and he scored a 3 in math. He obviously failed and would have to repeat the year. I could hear his father yelling at him. A few hours later, I went to his house and showed his dad a screen recording of the story he posted. His dad, already furious that he failed, became even angrier. He then proceeded to discipline him right in front of me. I left immediately; I initially felt a little bad, but it was so satisfying. Apparently his dad was so pissed that he permanently confiscated his phone

CHAPTER 9 – ENTROPY
DATE: MARCH 10th, 7 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION) LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN INDOMITABLE WILL
CAPTAIN HENRY O’TOOLE
"Ah, there you are Commander. Your message said there was something you wanted to talk with me about?" Henry asked as his executive officer approached the system map.
“Aye Captain, now's a good a time as any. As you know, the rate of disciplinary incidents has more than tripled in the last two weeks. We've had six fistfights, one near strangling, a few dozen counts of sexual harassment amongst different parties, and a few more incidents of a nature that I would rather not get into for fear of derailing the point of this conversation. I need additional resources to allocate towards ship internal security. With your permission, I'd like to borrow some of our more trusted marines to help the MA's out on their off shifts.” Commander Alvarez asked.
“Yeah, of course, take what you need to nip this in the bud. I can't say I'm entirely surprised; we expected a certain amount of this with the stresses of FTL travel. With everyone cooped up like this, maybe we should brainstorm some new outlets for the crew. Were there any specific incidents I need to get involved with?” Henry replied as he looked up from the list of updates and reports on his own console.
“No, I have it covered. It's just the regs state I need to ask permission to use marines for internal security matters.” The Commander waved it off.
“Excellent, continue to keep me in the loop then. Can I ask you a question?” Henry took the opportunity to ask something that had been bothering him.
“You just did. Hah! Just kidding, put the axe away boy! Now what would you like to know?” He said with a twinkle in his eye.
“I've seen your file, well, the parts that weren’t redacted anyway. If anything, I should be taking your orders! I mean, you're the Space Wolf! Nobody came even close to the number of ships captured or destroyed than you in the early days of the battle for the belt. Why would they want me to be captain when they had someone like you coming along the whole time? Why aren't you a captain anymore? By all right this should be your command, not mine.” Henry asked, after taking one last look around to verify they were still alone around the system map.
Commander Alvarez seemed stunned for a moment before he settled into a more pensive look.
“Listen, son, you're all full of the vigor and high passions of youth. By that I mean you've got a certain fire and aggression in you, yet I've seen you generally keep it balanced by wit and wisdom. You are a perfect match for the job, even if you could use some more real world experience. With some guidance, you'll do just fine, if you can keep strict standards for yourself and crew and a cool head when things get tough."
"I appreciate that, and I will definitely lean on your experience whenever possible. However, you didn't really answer my question... Why aren't you a captain anymore?"
"I... got a lot of damn good men and women killed in an impossible situation when we lost the Michigan-II, and I never truly got over it. No amount of medals, captured enemy ships, or the fact that I've saved many more lives than I lost can make up for that. I finally found peace with that, but that peace required that I relieve myself of any chance of future command. My legacy, for better or worse, is set in stone. Joining this expedition gives me another chance at adjusting the scales without breaking my former vows, even if the only people who will ever know it are here on the voyage with us.”
“So, you claim you have no aims or desires for leadership, but here you are a mere heartbeat away from it.” Henry said, carefully studying his executive officer's every reaction.
“My time for glory is mostly gone, yours is at your feet before you. To the world, I am retired in comfort and isolation. In reality you have me here to help make your will law. You can relax. I already turned down command of this expedition. I was plan A, why do you think they had to scramble to find you? I will take command of this mission only if you are incapable of doing so yourself, Sir. In the meantime, let my experience and whatever wisdom I can offer guide you.”
An emergency alert snapped both of their attention out of their conversation. "There's a fire in one of the officer's cabins?!" Henry’s pulse quickened as he referenced the map to find which one.
“Fuck, it started in Chantal’s room!” Henry said, horrified.
“I've got the CIC under control. Go on and get her out of there, I'll send the cavalry."
“Thank you, Commander.” Henry called back over his shoulder as he rushed for the quick lift.
The officer cabins were the in the very next deck overhead, so he was able to arrive quickly and break into a sprint. The ship shifted as it dodged some antimatter, causing Henry to slip and scramble back to his feet. As he rounded the corner he saw her door was closed and the keypad powered was off. He could hear thumps and muffled screaming from within the room.
"HANG ON CHANTAL, I'M COMING!" Henry shouted in the hope that she could hear him as he pried at the manual override panel.
Two modified Paladin exo-combat armor suits rounded the corner seconds later with a hospitalman trailing behind pushing a medical cart.
"WE'LL TAKE IT FROM HERE, SIR." A speaker-amplified voice spoke from behind him.
One of the Paladin suits accessed the manual control override and forced the door open enough for the other suit to reach in and pry it the rest of the way open as smoke plumed into the corridor. The second suit charged into the room with its flood lights on as a water cannon mounted on the right wrist sprayed flame retardant from a pack on its back. The first suit abandoned the door control and entered, emerging moments later with Chantal awake and coughing from inside the darkened door frame. She was quickly ushered into cleaner air, set gently down, wrapped in a blanket, and was quickly attended to by a hospitalman who began to check her vitals.
Relief flooded Henry’s mind as his adrenaline surge broke against the wall of worry he had built up during his mad dash from the CIC.
“Baby you came for me! I thought I was going to die in there." She pulled him into a tight embrace as she wept in cathartic release.
"Of course I did! I couldn't stand to lose you, especially not over something like this. So, what the hell happened in there?"
"Well you know me, I was all burning the midnight oil and then I smelled smoke! Then there were some sparks, the outlet pops then whoosh! My computer station and my desk are all ablaze along with half my notes, then the damned door wouldn't work! I had to drop to the floor under the smoke and pound on the door in hopes that someone would hear me. God, it was horrible... I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life." She replied with a deep shudder.
"You're safe now, it's going to be alright."
"I know, but what about my work?" She replied with a forlorn look back at her smoke damaged room.
"What about your work?"
"As you know, I lost a ton of it just now, but what’s worse is I don't even have the ability to recover them! Remember how I lost my backup drive last week? Like, I know I packed it and it is not here anywhere! It’s like some sick cosmic joke on me or something. Sorry! Gotta keep it positive, girl! I get to rethink my last few weeks’ worth of work from scratch... that was almost positive! I probably have most of this recoverable from email sent box backups. Fuck, what do you do if there's no good silver lining?” Chantal bemoaned.
Henry couldn’t help himself but laugh for a second, while his girlfriend stared at him, waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry, is this funny to you or something?”
“No, no of course not. This might be one of those times where the only silver lining is that you're alive. Plus, if anyone can remember and rebuild their notes, you can." Henry smiled down at her.
“Fine, fine, at least I am alive. I was only breathing smoke for a few seconds after all.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Thank you for rushing down here right away anyway, it means a lot. You're amazing, you know.”
Henry smiled, slightly uncomfortable for a moment, so he changed the subject.
“I do my best... Anyway, it seems like these electrical issues seem to be getting worse instead of better. Whatever patch these clowns have slapped on my ship to get her to pass inspection is clearly coming undone. What do you think is going on here?” Henry asked in mild exasperation.
“Honestly, I can’t tell you without digging into the systems myself, which I would rather avoid. My plate is full enough as it is right now, especially having to reproduce so much of my own work now. This ship has kilometers of power cables running throughout it, after all, and you have an entire loyal, capable team down there in electrical, so it should only be a matter of time before they sort it out for you. Let them do their jobs without harassing them too much, please?”
Henry felt a little irked at her for not giving him credit to know not to go overboard, but he stowed it, seeing as she ultimately was right.
“The crew has been under a lot of stress, too, between the technical issues with the lights going out, losing power to workstations, or the constant antimatter threat. More than a few people have tried to convince me to turn us around and return to S33 for a more in-depth refit and repair cycle before we try the mission again. So far, everyone has accepted the fact that we are continuing the mission without much argument, but I fear what may happen if these issues are seen as getting worse. Our orders are clear, though, we must continue the journey.” Henry said, uncomfortable with the implications, even if he didn't dare voice it.
“You should get on the Q-Comm to report the fire to S33. Maybe they will order us back to base after this.” She offered, looking for a solution to an impossible problem.
“Good idea, at least the Q-Comm is still working. It’s incredible to me those particles maintained their entanglement once we passed through the baryonic barrier. That alone has been a huge morale boost, being able to contact home base with no time lag.” Henry replied.
“It’s incredible to you because you only have a basic grasp of the science, hon. But that’s alright, very few people truly understand it. That’s in part what you have me here for anyway. Einstein called the effect spooky action from a distance; I always liked that line.”
Henry ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Chantal, with a shake of his head and a smile.
“Listen, Henry, I just had a crazy stressful experience and I need to unwind. Plus, I haven’t slept in almost a day, so I am bone tired. Let’s go to bed, huh? What do you say doc, am I clear to go?” Chantal asked.
The hospitalman closed her eyes and shook her head before responding. "Yes, you are cleared to rest, and only to rest, do you understand me?"
Chantal mouthed a thank you before she took Henry by the hand and led him off to the captain’s quarters. Henry felt no desire to fight it, nor flaw with her reasoning. Sleep sounded good, really good. Plus, he was about an hour from the start of his sleep shift anyway, and Alvarez had the CIC well covered. The lights flickered again, but Henry very purposefully ignored it.
“Hey, since we have a little time and we are both a little wound up, Why don’t we take a shower together real quick?” She said with genuine enthusiasm and a wink.
“Madam, I like the way you think.” The couple raced just a bit faster than regulations would have liked, and arrived at his door in record speed.
Inside the room they fell upon each other in great passion and need, stripping each other out of their BDU’s and underclothes. Henry tossed a giggling Chantal onto the bed, and proceeded to kiss her neck and nibble on her ear causing her to purr in anticipation before he moved down her chest, past her navel, and then eagerly began to move his kisses in between her thighs.
“Hah…. I haven’t showered. Are you sure? Oooookay! I think…. Hah…. Okay.” She said breathlessly as Henry began to work his tongue until she began to shiver and squirm before she cried out as she melted in his mouth.
“Enough, please, I can’t take it anymore! Just fuck me already!” Chantal pulled herself together enough to beg for it. Henry stood rigid and ready and set himself to granting her request, first slowly, and then with a growing intensity. She once more began to squirm as he paid close attention to her hip’s cues, knowing very well by now what she liked.
As she climaxed again, Henry lifted her from the bed and pushed her up against the wall, and then bent her over his desk for a bit before he could take it no longer and they finished together.
“Holy shit… my legs aren’t gonna work for a bit after that one. Help me up?” Chantal said in between shallow breaths.
“Yes, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.” Henry said as he helped her to her feet and into the shower, staying in longer than was strictly necessary.
Henry left the steam first, once more thankful that his cabin included its own small bathroom, rather than a communal one. Being captain had its perks, after all. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, then handed another to Chantal who gratefully accepted it before it dropped to the ground as she stared straight past him.
“Henry!" She squeaked as she pointed past him.
"What?" Henry asked, confused.
"Henry, someone was in here!”
On their bathroom mirror, wiped from the steam were the words TURN BACK.
Henry's blood ran cold and his adrenaline spiked him into overdrive. He waved Chantal back into the shower and put his finger to his lips. She nodded then wrapped herself in her retrieved towel and dropped to the shower floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, whimpering slightly. Henry moved silently along the wall, watching the visible half of his room for any movement. He then burst round the door frame, only to find everything perfectly, precisely as they had left it. The shock of finding nothing collided with the spike of his adrenaline surge, which only fed his growing unease.
“There’s nobody here!” Henry called out after checking the closet, the only other place someone could have hidden.
“Did you lock the door?” Chantal asked, her mind already working on the mystery.
“I set the security protocol to auto lock every time it closes.”
“Paul. We need to talk to Paul.” Chantal said, squeezing her BDU’s up over her hips with a few hops. Henry pulled on his undershirt before tossing over her bra.
“Why would we want to bring that weasel into this?” Henry asked, incredulous at to how he could possibly help.
“Because he has access to the surveillance tapes, why else?”
Henry stared at Chantal, brimming with rage, trying his hardest to keep it isolated to Paul over the invasion of his privacy.
“Did you just say surveillance tapes!?!” Henry asked in an icy tone. “That does it, I’m going to strangle him.” Henry said, moving with a purpose toward the door.
“Stop. Turn around and give me a kiss. I already disabled the video cameras, at least all the ones I could find. He has audio at best, even that I doubt. What he does have that I want is the data from the motion sensor that he had installed just in case you found the more obvious bugs. Unfortunately, I sabotaged its effectiveness by blocking the sensor with dense foam, but there might be enough of something to give us a clue."
“How in the hell do you know about all of this anyway, and why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Henry roared.
“This entire enterprise is run by an intelligence agency; how can you not have seen that one coming a mile away? I have gotten very good at catching bugs over the years. Just because I expect the invasion of privacy to be happening, doesn’t mean I have to make it easy on them. Just be happy I already took care of the issue, alright?” She replied firmly while staring him in the eyes with raised eyebrows.
“You’re incredible, I love you.” Henry blurted out before he could catch himself. Chantal beamed and tackled him to the bed sitting on his lap.
“What took you so long? Never mind, don’t answer that. I love you too, man have I wanted to say that one for a while now.”
“You know these things aren’t easy for me. I had to be sure, I also didn’t want to mess anything up. We need to be able to work together even if we had turned out to be a bad couple.” Henry admitted, Chantal made an show as she thought it over, but she then smiled and helped Henry to his feet.
“Alright, my captain. You speak great wisdom. While I have certainly felt, and thoroughly enjoyed, the depths of your passion, it is really nice to hear about it too. I do think it makes it all the better that you rule said passion with reason. It’s just one of the many things I love about you.” She said, laying her hand over his heart.
Henry took her other hand and kissed it before replying. “I think above all, I wanted to make sure that I didn’t take you for granted, nor suffer the same in reverse. A wise woman once gave me some great advice there that I have taken to heart.”
“Okay, Romeo, maybe you have a better handle on these things than you think. Now… Let’s go interrogate Paul.” Chantal had a fire in her eyes that Henry was loving very much at that moment.
“I have wanted to turn the screws on that spook for a while now.” Henry smiled as he spoke, and he opened up the connection to the ship’s intranet through his neural implant to send a message.
MEET ME IN YOUR QUARTERS IN 5 MINUTES FOR A DISCUSSION OF CRITICAL IMPORTANCE – CPT. O'TOOLE
“That ought to get him there and alone.” Henry smirked. “Let’s go.”
Together, they made their way to Paul’s equivalent-sized quarters, which he had somehow secured for himself in the ship design to help facilitate his role as the official thorn in Henry’s paw. I guess being the captain’s handler has its perks as well. Henry’s eye twitched at the corner.
After making them wait far too long, Paul opened the door and gesturing them inside. The door closed and Paul turned towards them, narrowing his eyes, studying them both.
“Is this about the fire?” Paul asked before Henry punched the weasel right in the diaphragm, forcing him to gasp for air. The look of shock on his face as he bent forwards was priceless.
“What the fuck, Henry!?” Paul managed to choke out after a minute between gasps.
“Relax, I didn’t do any permanent damage, yet.” Henry said, Paul for just a second showed actual fear in his eyes before he sneered in defiance. “Oh? That got your attention, did it? Why were you spying on me?” Henry growled.
Paul closed his eyes, dropped his head, and began to laugh before Henry grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall. Foolishly, Paul even then kept laughing amidst the gasping. So Henry squeezed until Paul started slapping his arm, looking genuine fear once more growing across his face.
“Orders… I was following orders!” Paul managed to say amidst gasps and coughs.
“I thought it might be something like that. You're going to open up those files, now, and you're going to show me everything.” Henry said, dropping him to his feet at last.
“Fucking hell, Henry, I thought you of all people would have anticipated this was going to be the case. Do you think the people who made this all possible would simply let you fly around the most dangerous, advanced warship in human history without some insurance?”
“Don’t try and weasel out of your own personal culpability here. You may also want to think back to other people who were “only following orders” while performing acts they knew were wrong before you wave that line around like some get out of jail free card.” The fact that he had nothing to say spoke volumes.
“You should have told me, Paul.” Henry growled.
“That defeats the purpose! Plus, your girlfriend sabotaged them all before we ever left S33 anyway, and once more after! That type of tech doesn’t just grow on trees you know, and I don’t have an unlimited supply. You should be thanking me for covering for her and reporting back like things are normal!” Paul shouted in indignation.
“This is pointless, show me the files from around fifteen minutes ago, motion trackers, thermals, anything you have that's not blocked or sabotaged.” Henry commanded. Paul’s eyes narrowed, but after a long moment he huffed and closed his eyes.
Paul then sat down at his station and fired it up.
“Like I said, I've got practically nothing. No video, muffled audio and readings from what I assume to be a faulty motion sensor, that’s it. What are we looking for?”
“Chantal and I were, well, together. After we got out of the shower we saw that someone had written turn back in the condensation on the bathroom mirror. Only problem? My door auto locks when closed and only opens for my biometrics. That is why all of this even came up in the first place.”
“Motherfucker. That's a whole heap of bad news.” Paul said. Henry merely nodded, paying rather more attention to the screen to see if he could catch Paul in a lie about the extent of the spying.
“There’s nothing. No disturbances in the air that would even remotely resemble human movement between you two getting in the shower and you charging into your bedroom. With the noise of the shower and the distance to the microphone, there is nothing I can discern that is anomalous. You can see it all right here for yourself.”
Henry found himself even more confused and alarmed than before.
“How is that possible? Look again, run through some filters or something. There must be some evidence somewhere!”
“Alright, relax, I will get to work on this and get you a report by the end of C shift. In the meantime, you look like a mess. Get some sleep man! I can take care of it from here. Oh, and I want you to remember that I forgave you quite magnanimously for that little episode back there where you attacked me.” Henry and Chantal gave each other a look as Paul spoke.
“Wasn’t gonna apologize anyway, you had it coming. I’m going to hit the rack. I expect that report to be detailed and ready when I get up.” Henry took Chantal by the hand, and they left together, not waiting for a response.
“What a snake. Did you see him in there? Zero guilt or recognition whatsoever about spying like that. It just makes my skin crawl. Gives me bad memories.” Chantal said, turning pensive and quiet.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Henry asked, seeing that there was something clearly bothering her.
“I… had an uncle that lived with us from time to time and he would spy on me when I was dressing, try and sneak looks in the shower, stuff like that. Never touched me or anyone else that I know of, thank god, but man did it screw me up a bit still. Played havoc with my sense of security and even my sanity, never being quite sure it was real or all in my head. I wish I had said something, but I was afraid everyone would think I was overreacting or imagining it. I saw it in his eyes though, that look of... predatory lust. At least I didn't see anything like that in Paul's eyes. To this day it makes my skin crawl.”
“Good God, I can see how alone you must have felt in the middle of all that.” He squeezed her hand, she smiled up at him.
“Yeah, that was one of the hardest parts. I don’t think Paul is some raging pervert or anything, but it concerns me how normalized it was to him. Even if he isn’t being a creep with it, as if we can take his claims to be covering for me at face value. There is still no way I am going to let him have easy access to intimate videos of us, if I can possibly help it.” Chantal said before adding, “I’ll be all right, don’t worry about me. Let’s just get some sleep.”
Henry put his palm against the biometric scanner outside his room and the door slid open for them. They definitely needed some sleep after the emotional roller coaster of the past few hours, and the irresistible warm embrace of his bed called for him. The Q-Comm report could wait until he woke, he decided.
Better to have the electrical inspection ordered up, too.
I WANT A FULL REPORT AND INSPECTION PERFORMED ON THE ELECTRICAL FIRE IN CHANTAL’S ROOM BY THE START OF A SHIFT. – CAPT. O'TOOLE
Good enough. Henry thought as he sent the message. Now he could sleep. The chief could handle it from there.
MEANWHILE…
DATE : MARCH 10th, 7 A.U. LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN INDOMITABLE WILL
FIREMAN APPRENTICE SARAH CALLAHAN
It'll be back again tonight...
Sarah’s haunted thoughts repeated like a mantra. She had to be ready, but how? Her skin crawled and itched, the long sleeves of her BDU’s prevented her from being able to do anything about the painful sensation from the inflamed scratches they hid. She blearily rubbed at her sunken eyes, and she drained the rest of her coffee. All the numbers on the screen had started bleeding in together and her eyes hurt horribly, with the throbbing pain in her abdomen only compounding her misery.
“My god, Sarah, you look a wreck, hon. How have you been sleeping?” Yvonne, her shift partner asked, with concern in her voice.
“I have a monster tension headache, I just hope the meds kick in soon. Can you check my math? I need to get out of these white lights for a few minutes. Close my eyes for a bit, something, anything. I've been having nightmares again.” Sarah felt good, being able to admit it, and Yvonne had long since proven her friendship, so it was easier to actually speak.
“Yeah, no prob. As soon as I am done here I will check your readings and we can get out of here. Do you mean nightmares from the invasion?” Yvonne asked, carefully picking her words and tone.
“Kind of the same general themes, but different. Everything is going wrong, like the worst possible outcomes of my worst nightmares are all combining together. Like, it feels actively malicious, I don't know, its hard to explain...” Sarah said, bleakly.
“That’s hard, I am sorry. You need a shower, and an uninterrupted nap. Sleep deprivation plays all kinds of hell on the body and mind. I had a friend who went through an insomniac phase so extreme he would go days without sleeping. Wound up in the hospital after trying to drive to work while hallucinating his dead fiancée was sitting in the passenger seat screaming at him to watch out. Wound up rear-ending the car in front of him. Thank God he lived to tell the tale, but that is why it worries me to see you like this.” Yvonne planted her hand on Sarah’s shoulder as she told the story.
“Yikes, I think I slept like two hours into my sleep shift before I started having the nightmares again, woke up, and passed in and out of some restless sleep. It got really bad around oh three hundred. There were sounds... noises like scratching and a loud bang, and the shadows were moving. I just kept feeling like I was being watched, but everyone else seemed to be having disturbed sleep in their bunks. God, it was a creepy feeling.” Sarah took a moment to compose herself.
“I know how crazy this will sound, maybe that I am sleep deprived and likely hallucinating like your friend, but just hear me out. There was something there Yvonne, in the dark at the edge of perception, I could feel it. I also know I wasn’t the only one tossing and turning either. I could also hear scratchy whispering, too. I just hid, strapped in under the weighted blanket. At some point I slept some more, I must have, but not for what felt like a few stressful and draining hours. I'm just making a total mess of explaining this, aren’t I?”
“No, you're fine, girl! I am sorry that happened, my dorm has been pretty quiet, but I have always slept like a rock. Is there anything I can do?”
“I could use a hug.” Sarah said, which caused Yvonne to laugh, breaking some of the tension. They embraced warmly for a good minute, which did wonders for relieving some of the headache and her black mood.
“Thanks, Yvonne, I know it’s all in my head and it’s a vicious feedback cycle due to lack of quality sleep. Thanks for listening without calling me crazy.“ Sarah said, shying away from the last thing she hadn’t the courage to say.
She didn’t dare mention how she had hidden under the covers as she felt it get near. How she had felt something pushing on the mattress. How as her fear peaked, she herself peeked over the covers to find nothing there just to have the oppressive feeling evaporate along with the sensation of pressure by her feet. Her dorm mates all seemed to stop stirring after that, and only then did the nightmares stop for her that night. By then she was left with barely enough time for one last short sleep cycle before the start of A shift that very morning. This was a secret she would have to keep to herself, nobody would believe her anyway.
“I think I'll ask the Chief for a break from my duties today to rest and to visit med bay. Maybe they can give me something to help catch back up on my sleep.” Sarah said.
“Good idea, can I come with? I’ll back you up.” Yvonne said. Sarah smiled at her friend before she nodded at her before they checked off the last of their duties on site and headed away to find the Chief.

Ever since i've been a child i've had these dreams about a man, its like im awake but dont realise i aint awake?? first dream i had was when i was 7-8. i was in my childhood room, keep in mind i cannot sleep for the life of me, and at that time i didnt have sleeping pills. so i was doing my normal playing with plushies late night game. my room was on the second floor and i lived in a small town, my house was ontop of a mountian with a big forest right outside my window. but a small road just before it. as i looked out it was raining, the small light coming from the street light but it was flickering cuz it was old, i watched the rain drop but got an uneasy feeling as i looked further into the forest i saw him, he was a man, tall, strong but not too strong to it being his only feature. he looked like a normal man. his left hand had an axe. and i started to sweat as he walked slowly towards my house. stopping under the dim light. then up the driveway, then watched me like i watched him. he threw the axe at my window, and i must've woken up, but i didnt realize i was dreaming it, so i fell off my bed and ran to my parents room yelling at them that 'hes here' and call the cops. i still to this day dont remember it being a dream.
as some time went by, i didnt sleep at all. but only night i fell asleep, but woke up to an uneasy feeling like the first dream. then i heard it, our doorbell. i somehow didnt get scared and just walked downstairs, knowing he was there. i opened our door, and walked out. it was propally in the middle of the night cuz it was fully dark. i started to walk towards the forest. knowing he was there. my ma stopped me. asking the hell i was doing. i straight up told her 'hes here' but then realised what i was doing. keep in mind, i was too scared as a kid to even leave my bed at night. i still dont get how i just walked out of the house without sobbing.
my dreams slowed down. i felt uneasy sometimes but kept telling myself it was a dream and i was okay, even tho i was actually awake. it fully went away in some years, moslty cuz i never slept. but when i moved to a diffrent place he came back. first one after a while was while i was babysitting this dog for two weeks, he had been there for a week atleast at that point. i woke up and went upstairs, sitting on the arm rest on my sofa and scratching the austrelian sheperds ears. he was pretty big so he was perfect height for it, but then he got a freaked out face on. like he knew someone was there but didnt dare to look. i was confused and got the uneasy feeling again, i looked over at this corner, as i look down i saw two shoes. and i know for a fact no one was home cuz it was summer break and everyone in my fam was at work. i didnt say a word, my breath stopped as i saw the shoes move a bit. then i woke up, with a full on panic attack. it felt so real.
some days later i dreamt another dream. it felt so real, i was doing my morning rutine, but when i came to the living room which is upstairs. i saw my whole family, mom, dad, and my big brother. they were towering over something on the floor. it was an dark aura around it as i kept asking them why there were home and not at work. but they had the same as the dog in the other dream had. i looked more down. the shoes were at the floor with some jakcet over them. but then somone started to crawl out of it, hands gripping the floor as it came to life. and i woke up.
after that he kept coming. one dream i had was while i was sleeping at my aunts in my childhood city. i dreamt like i was walking back to my old house, going to check it out. but when i came there, all the windows, door and carage was fully open and fully dark inside. all our stuff was thrown out of the house laying at the drive way. i went up and kncoked on the wall next to the open door. no one came so i turned around going to leave. but when i turned around someone grabbed me, dragging me inside the dark empty house. i looked down as it happened and then i saw it again, those shoes.
im starting to lose track on what happens after what, but i remeber always feeling awake as it happens, to the point i dont know if im awake or dreaming anymore. ive had plenty of dreams of just living and then seeing him stareing. then waking up. i wont name them all but imma name the worst ones.
still during the summer i was laying in my bed, my room is very small, and my window is next to my bed, but i got curtains over the window to block the sun light, i was watching tiktok as i layd there, but then i got that uneasy feeling again, i looked to my door, and the light in the hallway made it easy to see two shoes blocking the light. i sat more up, grabbing some scissors i had next to my bed on my desk. as i sat started to sit even more up i heard knocking on my window, i fully turned my eyes there, and it was a gap just with the curtians enough to see some of the window, and there he was sititng, leaning down to meet my gaze. same shoes as always. i woke up in a panic. i didnt even know if i was awake or not. but i looked towards my window, and it was a gap with my curtians, its never a gap there cuz its creepy.
Another dream i had was that me and my family was at this place, my pa was sunbathing and i was chilling inside. its like a hotell. i kept going out to check on my dad as it started to get dark and i got an uneasy feeling. i knew something would happen. as i went out again, i found my dad laying on his sunchair, only that his limbs had been awfully ripped off. just where is knees started his leg stopped, just where his elbow started his arm stopped. and he had that look on his face like in the others dreams whenever someone saw him. i ran inside agsin and got met by his gaze as i woke up in panic. i ran to my parents room as they were dead asleep. but i needed to check if it was real cuz it felt so real.
im seeing that im writing a lot so imma just hurry up with the newest ones.
one dream i was back at my childhood home, i was with my two friends from there as we were playing in some tunnels made from WW2. me and my friend was supposed to find our other friend cuz he ran away somewhere. but as we looked she also dissepeared. i looked around. i saw some stairs, i know exaclty where i am and is 100& i was there, the stairs leads you to the dakrest point of the tunnel, its like your eyes are closed cuz its fully dark, as i went down i stood still for a second trying to hear them. but only thing i heard was the mans heavy breathing. in every damn dream he has this heavy breathing. i woke up with a scream as i dreamt that.
this is the newest one, only last week i dreamt of him again.
i was biking to my nearest shop for a drink, as i went back my bike had stopped cuz something happened with it, it does that sometimes. so i walked instead. it was fully dark outside and raning just so slightly. but as i looked forward in the small street, i saw him walking towards me. his head slighty turned to his side like hes watching me. with a knife in his left hand. i woke up with my breath knocked out of me, i went out again with a friend, we were getting some snacks to watch a movie, it was late, so it was dark. she sat behind me on my bike as we biked the same way i did in my dream. i got like a deja vu from my dream. but i was awake for sure, cuz i had already dreamt. but then i saw him again. the sight made me crash the bike into a small hole. she fell off as well did i. i quickly sat up a bit and went to help her sit up from the fall. but then as i was helping her i felt that uneasy feeling. but i didnt turn. her face went like everyones face whenever they see him. i didnt have time to turn. the knife he held in the other dream went straight into her collarbones. i turned around in fear only to be met by him sitting close to me, watching me with a damn mask on, the mask is fully black wiht a white lines a cross of it with some 2-3 other small lines over it. i had, had a double dream. it felt so unreal. and i never know if im awake anymore.
i went to a therapist for it one time cuz i hadnt slept for two week straight, and my parents got worried, and they tried to sign me up for pills. but i told them i was getitng better cuz i didnt wanna take pills and get worse.
PS. one dream i had was that i was in school, i had a morning rutine. getting ready, biking down there, sititng in fucking math class, learning math!! but then i got an uneasy feeling as i saw him just stand next to the door to the classroom watching me. that was an annoying dream cuz when i woke up i actually had to do it all over again.
but he seems to alwyas hurt people i know but never seems to hurt me, just stare, watching or some touches. ive had one dream where he shot my two best childhood friends in my old woods at where i used to live. it felt so real, i saw their pain as i hid behind a rock, as he just shot them with a hunting gun. and while they're brains were dripping everywhere he just stared at me and walked closer till i wake up.
i srs dont know what is happening, its creepy and idk if im dreaming or awake anymore. i be hanging with friends but get the uneasy feeling and just run off. into the woods or hide or legit start to sob.

TW: Alcoholism, drug addiction, violence, suicidal ideation, sex abuse
This is going to be a LLLLLOOONNNNGGGGG one. This story goes back quite a way, but yesterday was the tenth anniversary of the ending to this story and I'm feeling it, still got some guilt about everything that happened, wondering what I could have done differently and I just want to vent it out and hope to get some closure from it.
This story started in 2010.
Characters in this story (names are fake, duh!):

• Me, Guy, 32M at the time, 45 now.
• My BFF Stephanie, 33F at the time.
• Stephen, 40M at the time, Stephanie's boyfriend.
• Maryse, 27F at the time.

Background and intro
I had known Stephanie for many years and we had the kind of friendship that made her BFs and my GFs uncomfortable to put it lightly. We had never crossed that boundary and I wouldn't consider us in the friendzone, we were just friend, but the kind of friend where she would sit on my lap with her arms around my neck or her head on my shoulder.
At the start of 2010, Stephanie met her then boyfriend, Stephen. He tolerated me and my friendship with Stephanie because I also had a gf back then. She liked Stephanie, wasn't at all jealous of my friendship with her, so he didn't deem me too suspicious. Then my gf and I broke up for reasons unimportant and all hell broke loose for Stephen. He became convinced that I would try and steal Stephanie from him. He insisted that Stephanie introduce me to her female friends or female friends of his. Thus began what I called the year of the 50 blind dates. It was probably closer to 20, but still I like saying the year of 50 blind dates. Most of them were unremarkable and never went beyond the first date. There are some fun stories in there if anyone wants to hear them eventually!
In July of that year, I had to switch gears because I had to focus up and study for a professional exam for a certification important to my career. This exam required close to 600-800 hours of study over a 3-4 month period. So I hunkered down, told Stephanie to stop the blind dates for now because I had to focus on that. She respected my wishes and, other a text here or there, we went low contact for the last two months before the exam.
Except for one fateful night in September. Her birthday was in September and she always threw these big bashes at her house. She would throw a big pool party that started around noon and would go on to the wee hours of the morning. I knew she would harass me to go to her party, so I made some quick math and figured I would lose more energy and time trying to dodge her calls, texts and most likely visits at my place than by just going to the party itself. So when she called me to ask, I just said: "Okay I'll go to your damn party, now git." I texted her I would get there in the evening probably around 8. She texted back "Great, can't wait. Now study, bitch!"
So I ultimately get there around 8PM. Basically everybody is already drunk off their gourd. Stephanie sees me, squeals in excitement and runs to me in her bikini and just jumps in the air and slams into me, wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist and gives me a big hug. I hug her back and just keep walking back to the pool where she had started, carrying her with me. I just duck my head around hers and say hi to Stephen, who just glares at me.
She drops back down and I give her her gift. We chat for a few seconds and says "There's beer in the fridge and food in the dining room." I told her I'd be right back.
I go inside and grab a beer from the fridge. I head to the dining room and the table is against the wall with a buffet of sandwiches, tomato pizza, salads, etc. I grab a plate and start putting food on it. I was focused on the task because I was starving. I barely noticed, sitting at the end of the table one of the most stunning woman I have ever seen. I just see her in my peripheral vision and I do a quick double take, quick glance at her and back to the food. I do that a second time. And finally a third time. At that point she is just straight up staring at me and I can't help but chuckle and whisper under my breath "Subtle Guy, sub-tle".
Thankfully she starts laughing too, saving me some embarassment. I look at her and greet her. She says "Hi, I'm Maryse and I'm guessing you're Guy?" I just nod and we start talking. At that point, I just thought I have no shot with her, she's so far out of my league that I'm just gonna talk to her until she sees one of the "models" hanging out by the pool and ditches me for him.
So I'm not feeling like I'm playing for anything, so I'm just myself and not nervous, just talking to her as I would any friend. We chat and she laughs at all my jokes, she gets all my cultural references. She never gets up or ditches me. The plate of food I had made and the beer I had gotten are sitting on the table next to me untouched, I was too busy with the convo to think about food or beer anymore.
After what felt like only 20-30 minutes, Stephanie comes in and tells me, fake grumpy: "So that's where you disappeared to. I invite my best friend to a party and he spends the whole night talking to someone else." I laugh and go: "What do you mean the whole night? I haven't been here that long." She says "Dude, it's 2AM. You've been here for 6 hours..." My jaw dropped and I just said: "Wow, time flies when you're having fun." Maryse chimes in, with a big smile: "It sure does!" That made me happy as you can imagine.
Now I was a little stuck because where Stephanie lived, there's no night service for the bus and the subway had been closed for an hour or so. I figured I would cab it. So I turn to Maryse and tell her: "It was absolutely lovely to meet you and I enjoyed our conversation very much." She says that she did too. I continued with "At the moment, my schedule is incredibly hectic. I'm basically working full-time, studying full-time and sleeping part-time. So I don't have a lot of free time, but if she was interested, whatever little free time I had, I would love to call her or text her to keep on getting to know her."
I see Stephanie in the backgroudnd, looking like a proud mama at how smooth that came out, knowing I was always anything but smooth with women, as proven by the string of blind dates! Maryse has a big smile and we exchange numbers. I go to Stephanie to wish her a happy birthday again. While I'm talking to her, my phone buzzes with a text from Maryse: "Just checking!"
I asked Stephanie "What's the best cab company to call in this area?" Maryse chimes in: "Where do you live?" I tell her where I lived and she goes "It's on the way to where I live, I can give you a ride if you want." Stephanie raised an eyebrow in surprise. I learned later, she did it because it absolutely was not on the way to her place, like, at all. I say that I would love that as it would give us a chance to keep talking.
We get in her car, driving to my place. We talk, she asks me what I'm studying as I hadn't mentioned it earlier. I tell her all about the boring maths I had to study. Much too quickly, we get to my place. She parks in front of my building and we keep talking. At some point, I tell her: "Normally, this is where I would try to "trick" you into coming up to my place..." She interrupts me: "You wouldn't need to trick me. I'm willing and able!"
I tell her that "As tempting as that sounds, I know who I am and I know that if you come up and things proceed to where they're going, I'm not going to be able to study for the rest of the month. I have a kind of obsessive mind and when I find someone or something I like, I can push everything else to the side in favor of that. So to make sure I can still focus on my studying, I have to go up by myself."
She looks at me, a little disappointed but then says, half-jokingly: "We don't have to go up, there's a backseat right there!" We laugh and I give her a kiss and wish her a good night. I managed to stay strong and go back to my condo. Damn it, why did I have to stay strong!!!
My exam was at the beginning of november. During the month of october, we texted a bunch of times and talked on the phone. We went for coffee a couple of times and dinner once. She respected my boundaries and never pushed for more, which I appreciated but also hated at the same time, if that makes sense. The exam came and it was a monster of a Friday. I slept for basically 18 hours after the exam as the adrenalin dropped and my system crashed.
I texted her when I woke up at around 1PM. She was working at the clothing store Stephanie owned. She said "I'm off at 5PM, wanna meet me." I said: "Duh! Why do you think I'm texting? ;)" So I met her at the store downtown. I asked if she wanted to grab a drink, go for dinner, or what. She proposed going to her place and getting some take out. Stephanie who was closing the store at that moment, came up to us and said: "Hey, so what are we doing?" I said: "WE, that is Maryse and I, are going to her place and getting some takeout. Bye!" I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you that no food was ever ordered that night!
Thus followed a whirlwind month of November where any free time we had was spent together, and I wasn't going to complain!
The troubles
By the start of december, things were still going great with us. One saturday night, we were having dinner at a restaurant and I mention that this coming Friday is my office Christmas party, that it's employees only, so we wouln't see each other that night. She tells me: "Oh sure, that's fine! It'll give me a chance to go see some girlfriends I've been neglecting lately." I said "Great! BTW I also got us a reservation at [this great restaurant she had mentioned a few times] for next Saturday, so we could go there and I'll tell you all about my party and you can tell me all about her night with the girls!"
That was settled, I thought. I was wrong. On Thursday, we had spent the evening together at her place and I was about to leave to go back to my place. She tells me: "So are you coming to meet me at the store tomorrow or do I go to your place?" I reminded her: "Neither, tomorrow is my office Christmas party and we won't see each other tomorrow." She said: "Oh right, I forgot." I asked her if she had made plans with her friends like she had mentioned last saturday. She said that they were all busy tomorrow and weren't available.
She suggested "If your party is boring, maybe you could come meet me." I retorted that it wasn't going to be, knowing who was going to be there.
"Yeah but what if?"
"But it won't"
"But what IFFFFFF?" she kept insisting and I kept saying no. After what felt like 30 minutes of that (probably only 2-3 minutes in reality), I had enough and just said to end the argument: "Okay, if it's boring, I'll come. but it won't be." She said: "Cool" with a big smile on her face. I came to learn that that smile meant "Challenge accepted".
The following night, my colleague and I were pregaming in a conference room before leaving for the party proper and my phone buzzes. Maryse was wishing me a good party. I replied. She texted me again. I replied. She texted again, but I was in a conversation with a colleague so I didn't reply or even look at the phone. My phone buzzes again. Still talking, and didn't want to be rude to my colleague. Another buzz. I just kept talking. Phone buzzes differently, she was now calling because I hadn't answered her texts.
"Why aren't you replying to my texts?"
"Hey, sorry, was talking to my colleague Patrick."
"What? you don't want to talk to me?"
"I am talking to you now."
"Why didn't you reply to my texts?"
"Because it would have been rude to my colleague to pull my phone out while talking to him."
"But you're talking to me now."
"Because I thought something was wrong, maybe it was an emergency."
"I wanted to talk to you, that's all."
"Well, gotta go back to the party. Talk to you later."
She kept texting and if I didn't reply right away, she would call after two or three missed texts. After about 2 hours of this, I stopped answering the texts. When she called back, I asked her: "Aren't you supposed to be working?" which started another round of guilt-tripping of "why are you asking me this? you don't want to talk to me?" At that point I had had enough and wanted to enjoy my party. I remembered that the Blackberry (no shaming old tech!) I had had an annoying feature, but I was hoping to put it to good use at that moment.
Whenever the battery would get really low, like less than 1%, it would let out an ear-piercing BEEP for about 3 seconds, reminiding you to charge it and giving you a heart attack all at the same time. It would do that even when you were in silent mode. It had happened a few days earlier when I was with Maryse. I figured, if I press a button on the Blackberry, it would make a beep too that could be heard through the phone. So while I was talking to Maryse, I pressed my thumb on the space bar for a good 3 seconds and sputtered; "what... the .... what?" trying to put on a somewhat believable performance.
She asked what that noise was and I tell her that it was my blackberry letting me know I was low battery and it might shut off any second. I told her "Listen I'm gonna wish you a good night, I'm having a good time at my party so I'll see you tomorrow at 5PM to go spend our evening together. I hope you have a good....." and hung up mid-sentence. I promptly shut my phone off and went back to the party. I concede that I may be a bit of an AH for that move.
The party was great, I got drunk much quicker than I expected owing to the fact that I hadn't had a drink in over two months because Maryse didn't drink so I didn't either when we were together, and we were always together. At 1AM, I went home and passed out on my bed.
This is another place where I may have been an AH. I didn't turn my cell phone back on and I unplugged my home line too, because I wanted to sleep the deep sleep of the drunkard. I woke up at around 1:30 PM, not knowing it was already too late. In my mind, I was meeting Maryse at 5PM to go out on the town that night. Maryse had other ideas as you'll see.
So like I said, I woke up at 1:30PM and was sticky with alcohol sweat, so I went straight for the shower to get clean again. While in the shower, my stomach grumbled with hunger and I started daydreaming of bacon and eggs. That pushed me out of the shower right quick. I dried myself off quickly, tied the towel around my waist and went to the fridge. No bacon.... booo. Looked at the egg compartment... no eggs... booo again. Okay then, how about a cream cheese bagel. No cream cheese, damn it. Look in the pantry, no bagels.... god. I was starting to get angry. Okay, cereals then. I pick up the cereal box, that mofo was empty and I get mad: "who's the idiot who puts the empty box back in the pantry?" I remembered I live alone.
I close the fridge dejected and see the grocery list stuck on the fridge, taunting me with everything I wanted to eat for breakfast written on it. But I felt like if I went to the grocery store hungry as I Was, I'm just gonna pay 600$ and not get one single healthy thing to eat. I then remembered there's a restaurant next to the grocery store that serves breakfast until 3PM. I get excited! I get dressed quickly, grab my wallet and keys, put my boots on, my coat on, wrap my scarf, my tuque and my gloves and go to the restaurant. If you notice, I didn't mention my phone in there.
I get to the restaurant and confirm that they still have breakfast and get even more excited when she confirms it. I order the "heart attack", at least that's how I nicknamed it: 3 eggs, 3 servings of bacon, 2 sausages, and, I guess to give one peace of mind, fruit (or to be precise, one single solitary slice of orange). Now that the food is ordered and coming I figured I would check if I have any messages. I pat the pocket where my phone always is. No phone. uh-oh. I start clutching evert pocket, no luck.
I wonder if I should go back home after the meal before going to the grocery store and decide against it, it would be too long a detour. So I scarf my breakfast down, rush through the grocery store. I get home and set my bags down in front of the fridge. I go pick up my blackberry. I turn it back on. The little tape icon tells me there are messages on my voicemail, at that time there were no red dots with a number in it to tell you how many.
I connect to the voicemail while starting to put the groceries away. The little automated voice tells me "You have 25 new messages." I pull the phone away from my ear, look at it in disbelief as if saying: "are you f'ing kidding me?" So I press 1 to start playing the messages.
Remember: Maryse knew I was at a party with a dead phone, no chargers and I probably wouldn't get home until 1AM. From 6:30PM, when my phone died, to 11:34 PM, when she went to sleep she left me 9 messages. BTW I know she went to sleep at 11:34PM because she left me a message saying "it's 11:34PM and I'm going to bed. Thinking of you." The 9 messages were in the same vein. These are the salient details, but the messages were all much longer.
She woke up at 7:15 the following day, I'll let you guess how I know that tidbit of information! She left me 5 more messages like those from the day before: 7:15 woke up. 7:35 going to take a shower. 7:55 out of the shower. 8:25 getting ready to leave for work 8:50 walking out of the subway to go to the store.
She leaves me another message at 9 that was different. She sounded very excited as if she had had the best idea in the world: "Hey it's 9AM, I'm about to start my shift. I know we're only supposed to meet after my shift, but what if you came and met me for lunch so you could tell me all about your party." I just did my best Scooby-Doo "Ruh-Roh" and chuckled that I blew that, not thinking the calamity that was awaiting me.
Another couple of messages to talk logistics: "I could take my lunch at 12 or 12:30, let me know which you prefer." "I'm taking my lunch at 12:30"
A slightly worried message: "It's 11:15 and you stil have not said if you were coming or not, are you okay?"
The first bomb goes off and I knew I was in trouble then: "Where are you? We're supposed to meet for lunch and you still haven't given me any sign of life, you're not answering your home phone either, what happened?" Reminder: we were not supposed to meet for lunch, she suggested doing so a couple of hours earlier and I never agreed to anything. I guess she told her colleagues I would meet her for lunch and it was now fact and could perhaps make her look bad in front of her colleagues.
The second bomb drops: "It's almost noon now, WHERE ARE YOU? Stephanie says you're probably sleeping off your drunk, but I don't believe her. I'm sure you got yourself a slut and cheated on me. Didn't you? didn't you, you asshole." Stephanie knows me very well, but that wasn't enough for Maryse it seems.
Ensued four more messages from 12:30 to 1:15, where she starts sounding more and more drunk and accusatory, spewing more attacks like in the message above. At that point I already knew it was over, there was no coming back from that. I can understand having trust issues, but that was nuclear. I don't tolerate jealousy because of horrible experiences with a couple of jealous toxic exes.
A final message comes in, and it's a different voice, that of my best friend being more than a little angry: "Hey Guy, listen, Maryse tells me you had a Christmas party yesterday, so I'm guessing you're sleeping off your drunk, still. But call me when you get this. I put Maryse, who's f'ing drunk, in the backstore so she can dry off and "do inventory". She can't be on the sales floor obviously and I just don't feel safe sending her home in the state she's in. Call me to tell me how you want to handle this."
At that point I had finished putting away my groceries and had put my boots and my coat on and was making my way to the subway to go to the store. I call Stephanie and tell her I got the messages and I was coming. She was right, I was sleeping off my drunk and had just woke up (didn't feel the need to mention the breakfast and grocery store). I ask her if she knows what I'm gonna do when I get there. She says that she knows and understands. She knows my bad history.
When I get out of the subway, I call her again before getting to the store. I ask her how she wants me to do this. It's her store and I don't want to create drama in front of her customers. Does she want me to wait outside and she tells Maryse to meet me in the street or do I go in the store and she takes me to the backstore and I do it there? She says to come to the store.
I walk in the store and every saleswomen on the floor looks at me and gives me the biggest case of the stink-eye. They only have Maryse's side of the story, so they think I did all these horrible things. I see Stephanie in the middle of the store and I walk towards her. She shakes her head and points me towards the cash register. I look over there and see Julia, a salesperson that I've known for a couple of years and really like, who also happens to be the biggest gossip in the store. I understand what Stephanie is trying to do. She's gonna make me tell her my story in front of Julia so Julia can spread the "good news" to the other employees and rehabilitate my name possibly.
So I get to the register and say Hi to Julia. She barely acknoledges me. Steph joins me. She asks me:
"How are you?"
"I was better an hour ago, before I listened to those voicemails. I had gone to our office party last night, had a great night, got drunk off my ass, got home at around 2 and woke up around 2."
Julia asks "Maryse told us you were supposed to meet her for lunch."
"No we weren't. I have a reservation for tonight at XYZ restaurant. I was supposed to take the day to do errands, stuff around the condo and meet her here at closing time. She suggested that it could be fun if I came at lunchtime to meet her, but that was never the plan."
Julia asks again "But why didn't you answer your phone?"
"It ran out of battery last night during the party and when I got home, I was so drunk that I forgot to plug it back in. I only plugged it when I woke up at 2. That's when the messages came in."
Julia asks "She says she tried calling your home line and you didn't answer and your machine didn't kick in."
"Yeah, that one's my fault, I knew I wanted to sleep and telemarketers have a habit of calling me early saturday mornings so I didn't want to be awoken by a call for a rug cleaning service, so I unplugged it yesterday morning, knowing I would be drunk when I got home and forget and be angry if I was awakened by a telemarketer."
Julia gave me a hint of a smile, showing me she was starting to believe me. She asked me a few more questions and then she asked what I was gonna do. I told her that whatever I'll do, I would tell Maryse first.
I looked at Stephanie and said: "Can you open the back store so I can go see her?" So we went to the backstore. As we reached the door, it swung opened and out popped Maryse, looking absolutely terrifying, I actually jumped back when I saw her. Her usual perfect makeup was completely smeared, her mascara streaking down her cheeks from the crying. Her hair was disheveled. She was a mess. Apparently, she had had enough of waiting back there and was planning on leaving the store to go home and had put her coat and boots on.
When she saw me, she went into an unhinged rant about me being an asshole for cheating on her, me not being great in bed, me not treating her right, etc. I let her vent everything she had to say, I looked at Stephanie and apologized for creating such a scene in her store. I tell Maryse we should go outside and talk in private. She keeps on yelling, but when I grab her hand to lead her outside, she follows.
When we get outside, her anger had started to wane a little, or maybe just her energy. I was able to talk to her to explain everything, how I had gotten drunk, had overslept (alone) and woke up at 2PM. I reminded her that we were only supposed to meet at 5PM not for lunch. The anger was leaving her and a smile almost appeared on her face. Through all of this I was being very calm and patient with her, which she interpreted as me not being mad at her. I then said in a firmer tone: "However..." and let it hang for a second.
The beginning smile vanished. I continued: "When you accused me of cheating on you, that broke me. That triggered memories of toxic exes who would always accuse me of cheating, not trusting me when I would tell them where I was, snooping on me, stalking me. Because of those experiences, I have a zero tolerance policy for jealousy. I told her that if she was behaving like after only two months of dating, it didn't bode well for the future and I have to protect myself."
At that, the tears started again and she just turned and ran/waddled away. I told her to wait, but she didn't hear me. I turned towards the entrance of the store to see basically all the employees and customers milling around the door trying to catch the drama. I went back inside to talk to my best friend. The mood had definitely changed and no one was giving me the stink eye anymore, but I didn't really care. I was just sad that it had ended, but proud of myself for having stood up for myself.
So AITA for getting drunk and keeping my phone turned off?
There is a lot more to this story and if you want to learn what happened afterwards, then read on.
The immediate aftermath
So I went back inside the store and talked to Stephanie. I told her that I had a reserrvation for XX restaurant and if she wanted to go with Stephen, she could take it, I wasn't in the mood for a dinner. She said "I already have plans for tonight, but thanks for offering." Julia said she would go with me if I wanted, but I just said that I wasn't in the mood to go out. I just wanted to crash and eat a pizza and get into a food coma.
Stephanie said she didn't feel comfortable leaving me by myself and I should join them at her house. They were having friends over to play board games and it could at least distract me a little. I said why not. So brimming with enthusiasm, I went to play bored games. I left early as I wasn't in the mood. I was feeling a little better, but still a bit down. I thanked Stephanie for the invite and left. I got home and just passed out on the bed.
I woke up at around 7AM the next morning and I saw along the corners of the window the tell-tale signs of a snow-drift and got excited as it was the first snow of the season. I pushed the curtains aside and looked on to see a beautiful white carpet outside. It was early enough that very few cars had marred the whiteness. I was admiring it when I noticed that, against the red bricks of the building across the street, there was a pink blotch. As I focused, the blotch became human shaped and I cleared my eyes enough to realize that it was Maryse and she was raising her cell phone to her ear.
On cue, my phone rings. I pick it up. Still sounding drunk, she asks me if we can speak. I ask her to give me five minutes to get dressed and I'll meet her down there. She asks why she can't come up. I say that I'm not sure I want her in my apartment. She says that it's cold out. I say: "Good, then this will be quick."
I get dressed and meet her outside. I'm still bleary-eyed from having woken up 5 minutes ago, but I try to get my wits together. I tell her that we're going to walk to the subway. It 's a 10-minute walk normally, but with her drunkenness, it might take 15-20 minutes. That's how long she has to tell me what she wants to tell me.
She wants to apologize for accusing me of cheating on her. She says she knows I'm a great guy and... I may be the A-hole at this point too, but I start to drift off in my little bubble and start daydreaming about, if I go back to bed, would there still be some residual heat or would it be cold? I could take a hot shower and warm the bed that way. I could still hear her in the background making excuses, saying how she had been cheated on, but I wasn't really listening.
During the daydreaming I notice it got quite quiet. I look on my left and she's not there, I turn around she's a good 5-6 steps behind me looking angry and she says: "you're not listening" I just say: "when you're right, you're right." I tell her that I understand she's been hurt too in the past, and I hope she can work to resolve her issues, but I was done and I'm going back to bed. I was a bit harsh there, but I was tired and still down.
I walk past her and get maybe 10 paces past her when I hear a scream coming from her. I turn around and I see her messing with something inside her coat. She pulls out a chef's knife with like an 8-inch blade. That wakes me the fuck up. Byebye bleary eyes, hello wakefulness. better than a cup of coffee or a red bull I tell you!
So she's got the knife, she's screaming something that I can't quite understand. She gets quiet and then she charges at me with the knife. If I'm being honest I could have stayed where I was and she probably would have missed me anyways, but someone charges at me with a knife, I'm gonna nope out of there. I take a massive side step and once she gets to where I was and realizes that I'm no longer there, she turns her head towards me and says heyyyyy.
At that point, I have a moment of clarity and see what's gonna happen. She's drunk running one way and looking another, I know she's gonna trip. As I predicted, she stumbled over her feet and starts falling to the ground. I start praying to god and anybody who would listen: "Please don't let her cut herself. I don't want to have to explain this to the doctors, EMTs and nurses. I don't want her drunk ass deciding to take revenge on me by saying I did it."
Thankfully, she winds up in a sitting position on the sidewalk holding the knife up and it was clean. Thank god for small miracles. She starts crying and, other moment of clarity, I know she's gonna turn the knife on herself now. I jump towards her and I realize I was right, the knife starts moving towards her left wrist. I tackle her, grab her right wrist and twist it so she drops the knife. I pick the knife back up and put it in my pocket. She looks at me crying and says: "Why did you stop me?"
I pick her up and take her back to my building. In my building there was a couch in the lobby, so I take her there and I sit her down and plop myself next to her. I look at her and wonder out loud: "What am I gonna do with you? What can I do?"
She goes: "Just let me go, I'll be good." I tell her that's not going to happen. I realize I have three options and I give her the three options.
"So here's the choice I give you.
1- I pull out my phone, call 911 and tell them about the attempted murder back there and they send the police to arrest you. I don't want to do that because that could derail your life and not get you the help you need. Besides, they might not do anything anyway as it's your word against mine.
2= I pull out my phone, call 911 and tell them about the attempted suicide back there and that you need to be placed on a 72 hour hold. I could do that, but at the same time, again it's my word against yours, so maybe they don't believe me.
3- I'm gonna hazard a guess here. From what I've seen, you have alcohol problems. So I'm gonna guess you were in AA, had been sober for a while, I want to say 6 months, maybe less, when we met."
She confirms my guess.
"alright so option 3, I'm guessing you had a sponsor in AA." she nods "we call them up and tell them about your relapse and what happened this morning. Can they come get you and take care of you?"
She takes her phone out and picks a contact and calls. She hands me the phone. Someone answers and I explain the situation. They said they were coming right away. I give them my address, they get here 15 minutes later. Maryse had fallen asleep in the meantime, so I wake her up gently and help her to the car. Off she went.
I went back to my apartment and just crashed back to sleep.
A month later
Mid-january, my phone rings and I see Maryse's number on there. I send her to voice mail. Another call. Voicemail again. 5 minutes later, Private number calling. "Gee I wonder who that could be." Voicemail once more.
Afterwards, I didn't get any unidentified callers for a little over a week. One afternoon, I was at work and my phone rings and it's a number I do not recognize. I pick up.
"Hello."
"Hi, is this Guy?"
"Yes, to whom am I speaking?"
"This is Hannah, Maryse's sponsor. we spoke last month." I started fearing the worst.
"Yes, I remember. How can I help you?"
"Maryse tried to reach you last week and you rejected the calls. I think it could help Maryse if you listened to what she had to say. You're obviously not obligated to entertain her, but I think despite everything that happened, you still care about her or you would not have called me that morning."
"You are right, I do still care about Maryse. I'm just not sure how good it would be for her to meet me this soon after everything that happened. I understand wanting to work through the 9th step and making amends, but..." She interrupts me.
"So you know about the steps."
"Yes I have friends in the program. which is how I could guess that she was in the program too that morning."
"You know it's important."
"I know. I know. How about this: we meet in public at a cafe, you would have to be there. Not necessarily at the table with us, but nearby in case she needs help, in case meeting me causes her pain. Tell her I promise to be in a more receptive mood than I was that morning."
So we make an appointment for that saturday afternoon.
I get to the coffee shop. She's already there, and so is her sponsor. I realize happily that she's not wearing makeup. I say happily because that means she understands that this is not a date, but something serious. She's still stunningly beautiful, and I feel sad almost right away.
I grab a coffee and go join her at the table.
"Hey" I say,
"Hey. So this is gonna be uncomfortable, but thank you for agreeing to meet me and for coming, I appreciate it more than you know. I'm sure you heard I quit the store."
"I have, I'm sorry about that, I hope you didn't do it just because of me."
"No, I needed time to focus on myself for now."
She proceeds to tell me about how I wasn't far off with my guess. She had been sober 4 months when we met. Now she had 39 days. She tells me that in AA, if you are single, they recommend not dating anyone new for at least the first year of your sobriety as it can cause issues, similar to what happened with us. I was like her "drug" and as long as I was available, she could get her fix. But the moment I wasn't available all hell broke loose, and that is what led her back to drinking that day.
I told her I'm glad to see her back sober again this quickly and I hope she can get all the help she needs from it. I ask her if she wants to talk to me about her drinking.
She starts to share a story about how she started drinking at around 11 years old. When puberty hit her, she got into a deep depression because the sexual feelings she was starting to feel were triggering responses. As a child she had been abused by two of her uncles repeatedly and her parents never believed her. They accused her of trying to make herself interesting. That was until they caught one of those uncles red-handed.
They finally believed and took the necessary steps to protect their daughter. But they were poor and they couldn't afford therapy. So she never really got help for it. At 11, she started self medicating the depression with alcohol. When alcohol wasn't enough, she added drugs.
At that point, I was full on crying. She asked me if I wanted her to stop. I told her that she doesn't have to stop. That the tears are there because that was one more thing we had in common. I was also a survivor of sexual assault as a child. In my case, it wasn't a family member, it was only a stranger, so it only happened once. But I also self-medicated with alcohol at the onset of puberty, switching to drugs later on too. I was lucky to avoid the pitfalls of addiction, but I was still dealing with my demons, slowly making peace with them.
So there we were, sitting at a coffee shop, both crying and holding each other. I tell her that I think it's great she's getting help for her alcoholism and addicion, but was she doing anything to help with the underlying issue, the original trauma? She said no, she couldn't afford therapy. I tell her that I am a member of a survivors group and if she is interested, I could get her into a meeting and perhaps learn to heal that part of herself too.
She said that she could give it a try. I tell her I have to talk to the other members to know if I can bring someone new and I would let her know. If they said yes, we would go to her first meeting together, I would introduce her and then we would coordinate so that I never went to meetings where she was. I wanted to do that because I wanted her first few meetings to be about healing and I didn't want our own history to be intertwined or mixed in with that.
After that, we left both feeling content and, while not necesarily happy, at peace if you will. Later on, I contacted Stephanie who was one of the "pillars" of the support group (that's how we met) to ask her if it was okay for me to bring in a new member to the group. She said sure. She asked if it was anyone she knew. I told her she would have to meet her at the meeting if she decides to come.
We were having a meeting the following day. I called Maryse, told her the time and place, and she said she would be there. She came to the group meeting and was shocked to see Stephanie there but Stephanie kinda guessed that it was Maryse I was referring to.
I introduce her, we start sharing stories, talking about how we're feeling, etc. The meeting was good and Maryse liked the vibe. So for the first six months after that, I never saw Maryse and we planned which meeting we would be attending to ensure we didn't cross paths. She started feeling much better.
After maybe 2 and a half years, she finally felt ready and she started dating again. She met someone and she fell for him. They were together for about six months, she looked happy. Unfortunately after about six months, she caught him cheating on her. We tried supporting her, being good friends, cursing his name, doing all the things we could to make sure she didn't relapse. But on April 5th 2014, she ODed on heroin. She was hospitalized for 2 weeks after that.
Hannah took her in and she set up a room for Maryse. She was still in a fragile state, so a group of her friends and I started taking turns watching over Maryse, making sure there was always at least one person there with her to keep her company.
Despite our vigilance, on May 14th 2014, when Hannah was out running a quick errand, she was gone maybe 15 minutes tops, Maryse found a way to cut her wrists and she died. We found a note saying that "the OD was not an accident, and neither was that. Thanks for everything you did for me. I love you all, but I can't do this anymore."
It feels good to write that story (I'll just ignore the fat tears rolling down my face!). Thanks for reading this far and sorry for the long story, I just started writing and couldn't stop. I apologize if it was a bit of a bummer.

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

There's a lot to explain, and I'm pretty sure that the title doesn't do this situation justice. This is also a throwaway acc- I don't want a suddenly depressing post getting cozy with all my memes and cheery content.
A little backstory- I (16F, Soph) have had bad blood with my mom (36F) for a while, since around the 7th grade. My grades have been iffy, but since freshman year I've been working to fix them. Third quarter, I had an extremely low point. Every day was a haze and I can't remember what sent me through it, and when I snapped out of it, it was too late to change anything. I had straight F's, all except for one of my math classes, which I don't even understand how I managed to maintain. These have plummeted my semester grade, but I've fixed some of them, evened them out to high D's, low C's, and a B. Two of them are unsalvageable, which is completely my fault. I'm still working to raise one more up to a D in the semester.
This all "started" a couple of weeks ago, but I'm guessing it's been building since my last parent teacher confrence. My mother had sat us down in the living room last saturday and informed my sisters (11F and 13F) and I that we were moving, and she's putting our trailer up for sale the first of next month. She said where we find a place is where we will move, so I can't even prepare myself for what I should expect. The main issues I have with moving are;
1- I had to go through it a lot when I was younger and had a really unstable social life, most likely the root of my current social anxiety.
2- I'm nearly an adult- I'm halfway through highschool. It's not going to be easy for me to make new friends in a social climate I have no prior existence in, let alone be able to keep the friends I could potentially make when they move on for college in 2 years. Don't get me wrong, I'd still stay in contact with the friends I have where I'm at, but when you have no friends in the area you live in, it's rough.
3- When I was younger, she promised me that I'd be able to finish my edjucation here, even college if I chose any of them in my area. I know it's stupid to hang on the words of a promise, that things change and promises sometimes can't be held up, but it still hurts being ripped away when I was nearly done with highschool.
My sisters got excited and started looking for new places immediately. I know our place isn't a dream, but we came here, owning nothing but a car. I started the third grade in this town and have been here since. This is my childhood home since the age of nine, I don't remember any other houses we rented. We actually own this trailer too- we're not just renting it from someone. I helped build my own room out of an off limits area when I was 11. It's not perfect, but it's most of what I've known. So are my friends. I can't count how many I've kept since the start of middle school, even if they transfered.
Even if I don't want to leave, I'm no angel. My room is dirty almost all the time, I can't see the floor because of a bunch of dirty clothes. That's one of the reasons my mom is holding against me to make it seem unreasonable that I'm upset about moving- "You don't appreciate your own room." I have no excuse for the way my room looks. It just feels like im paralyzed on my bed afterschool and on the weekends, I'm just tired. I don't know whether or not I'm lazy, isn't being lazy supposed to be enjoyable, at least for the short term in the moment?
The other reason she's giving me are my grades. As stated before, those aren't perfect either, but I'm trying. I've even taken steps to enroll myself into summer school to recover the credits I missed this year. Sure, I have flaws, but does that mean I'm not allowed to be upset over moving at such a crucial developmental point in my life? I'm not even arguing with her about it, all I'm doing is expressing how I feel- I'm not even saying anything to her, I said my piece when she sat us down. I'm just grieving.
Earlier today, she picked me up, everything seemed normal. Then she told me she had a conversation with my dad, (39M), who's out of the picture, but still communicating. She told me that he and her discussed about things continuing "the way I'm taking them." She said if I don't change, she's just going to pull me out of school and make me get my GED. She said she was worried I was going to ruin my career. A GED isn't bad, by all means, but I want an actual diploma. I want to be there with everyone else, dressed in a solid color robe, celebrating the fact that we made it. I won't have the advantages of any early social life at all in the area. I've heard adults say it's hard to make friends once you graduate, and I don't want to be thrown into that early, while being in a new area all at the same time.
I was thinking about all this in the car and cried. I don't think I can take much more of this. It's like she wants my life to follow a certain track, and I'm derailing her train. She dropped out her sophmore year to get married and do hard drugs for a while before she had me, so in my personal opinion, I'm doing way better than she ever had. I know it sounds harsh, and maybe I am being harsh, but when you hear the same story shoved down your throat over and over and over since the 3rd grade, and now said story has been turned into a weapon, it kind of gets redundant to you.
My mom tried cheering me up while we were out for a bit after dropping that by trying to show me facebook memes and telling me funny things my guinea pigs did to eachother that day, but I gave her the cold shoulder the entire time, so now she's pissed. I didn't even say anything, she just started spouting that "I hated her" and "I'm gonna cut her out of my life when I'm older", "I'd rather see her dead than talk with her."
The first two are at least half true at this point, she's been nothing but a source of harsh criticism for years of my life, barely any encouragement or pride in me, if anything at all. If she keeps doing that, I might end up hating her and cutting contact, which just hurts to think about. I don't want to cut contact with the only parent that raised me, even if she didn't raise me well. I still love her at the end of the day, and I think I hate that more than I hate her.
I don't know if this is all just incoherent rambling at this point, I've been crying through 2/3 of the way through this I think. I know I'm not a saint, and I'm at least a partial asshole, but am I completely at fault for this? Did I fall into being a moody, hormonal teen that hates their parents for no reason on accident? AITA?
TLDR: AITA if I'm upset over my mom making me move in the middle of attending high school, on top of threatening to pull me out of school all together for "the sake of my career"?
If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I just need help.

I accidentally posted this to my username instead of my subreddit so here is is:
The Mortgage, Part 3
“Fuck,” I said as I drove to work in the old beater that only started on the fourth try because it could tell that I was pissed off. Ray’s case started at two o’clock, and I was heading to the office to get ready. “Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck. Fuck.” I’d wanted to tell Angela about Ray’s case, and how I was sorry that I hadn’t wanted to help him, but now I would, I would help him, and I would win, but then I’d gotten her all riled up on something else, something totally different, something way more serious.
My wife had given me a triple ultimatum: fix things up with her father, save idiot Ray from Sy-Co Corp., and somehow find a downpayment for the place she wanted to buy, in the little townhouse infill project in Bixity. It was like demanding I do a double bank shot, and then run over to the baseball diamond and hit a home run after first pointing to where it would land, Babe Ruth style.
Angela was mad at me, seriously mad. She’d slipped out that morning before I was even awake, sliding quietly past me on the couch. I didn’t realize she was gone until I heard the faint click of the front door closing. I jumped up, tripped over a blanket, and by the time I got up and my robe on, the elevator down the hall dinged, and Angela was gone before I opened the apartment door.
I swore at myself some more and pounded the steering wheel, “I fucked up,” I said, several times as I hit the wheel over and over again, until I accidentally honked it, and then looked all sheepish when the guy in front of me gave me the finger. I reached my office without further incident, but instead of walking in the front door, I went further down the hall, and into the office of Mark Cecil-Rowe, Barrister, LL.D, the man with the finest speaking voice I ever heard. When I entered his office I forgot for a minute about Angela and her father and sleeping on the couch the night before. I forget about everything, except the reason that I had come to Cecil-Rowe’s office: to stump him with a legal problem that I had solved, but which I was pretty sure he could not. In other words, I had come to preen and to brag and to boast. No one likes a showoff, and I had come to show off. I put my hand on the door and turned the knob. After a brief pause, I flung open the door.
“I’m a goddamn genius,” I said as I strolled into the older man’s office.
I noticed the echo of a hastily closed desk drawer hanging in the air. In Aaron’s office, where I rented space, a sudden act of concealment implied cocaine, but with Cecil-Rowe, the item in question was probably a mickey of vodka. I had the sense that he’d been drinking a bit before I arrived, but his powers of observation were unimpaired, and when he looked into my face, his expression showed sympathy, and actual pain.
“What have you done now?” he said, as set the papers before him to one side, and readied himself to hear my latest tale of legal brilliance.
“I’m a genius,” I said.
“Oh dear. Have a seat.”
“No really, I am. I’m a genius. I got this case that everyone says you can’t win, but I’m gonna win it, and when I do, I’m gonna look like a genius.” Cecil-Rowe gave me a sad indulgent smile.
“Whenever you tell me you’re a genius, I am always concerned about what is to follow. When you get wrapped up in what you call your genius, you tend to ignore the more mundane things we lawyers have to do to win a case. You think you’re going to win by genius alone.”
“Let me tell you why I’m a goddamn genius.” With effort I wiped the smug, self-satisfied expression that was on my face.
“Tell me why you’re a genius,” Cecil-Rowe said, “while I pour us a coffee.” He heaved his bulky body up from his chair and shuffled over to a counter. He picked up a carafe of hot coffee sitting on a hot plate, and poured two cups. “Speak,” he said, handing me one. I took a sip of the coffee, and told Cecil-Rowe the tale of Cousin Ray: his purchase of a franchise from Sy-Co Corp, its swift demise, the crash and burn in Commercial Court, the Minutes of Settlement, the seventy-one kilometer limit, and lastly, Sy-Co’s motion scheduled for two p.m. that very day, seeking an interim injunction shutting down Ray’s place.
Cecil-Rowe absorbed all this without the need to take notes. Instead, he sat back while he eyed me, taking the occasional sip of coffee, and smiling at the extravagant flourishes and details that brought out Ray’s story to full effect.
“Obviously Ray is dead on arrival,” he said, “but I guess this is the part where you tell me how you’re going to win.”
So I told him how I was going to win, but it didn’t have the desired effect. “I told ya I’m a genius, Mr. C,” cueing him to applaud, to admit what a brilliant lawyer I was. But there was no applause from Mark Cecil-Rowe. He looked at me without so much as a smile.
“You can cling to that genius notion as a consolation prize, after you get whipped this afternoon in court.”
“No way,” I said, “not a chance. I got this thing won hands down. I’m gonna kick ass in court today and--”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that, if you don’t have evidence?”
“What?”
“Evidence, Calledinthe9os. It’s what lawyers like me use to beat geniuses like you.”
“But I’m gonna win without proof. I don’t need proof. The argument I’m gonna make, relies on simple facts that are totally obvious, so the judge is gonna--” Cecil-Rowe stuck up his hand.
“Stop right there. I know what’s coming. You’re going to ask the judge to take *judicial notice.”
And he was right. That was exactly what I was going to do.
There are some things so obvious that you didn’t have to prove them, things that everyone knew. You didn’t have to prove that water froze at zero degrees and boiled at a hundred, or that Bixity was between West Bay and East Bay.
“You got it,” I said, “judicial notice all the way.”
“You’re going to tell the judge that the centerpiece of your argument, the lynchpin of your case is a fact known to pretty well everyone, and so you don’t need proof.”
“Exactly,” I said. Cecil-Rowe took another sip of his coffee, and left me hanging in the silence for a while before he spoke.
“If that’s true, then why does coming up with that argument make you a genius?”
“Oh, I said,”I didn’t think of that.”
“It is acceptable to rely on judicial notice for minor, ancillary points. But you never should walk into court thinking that the court will take judicial notice of your entire defence. It’s just too risky.”
“But how am I going to rustle up a witness in time for this afternoon?”
“Worry about that after you leave my office. I can’t help you with that. What I want to know, is why you’re doing this at the last minute.”
“What makes you think I’m doing this at the last minute?”
“Because you never would have resorted to judicial notice if you were properly prepared. If you’d opened this case a bit earlier, you’ve have everything lined up. But you got to work on it late, and so you want to rely on judicial notice. You’ve messed up, Calledinthe90s, and you know what my rule is when you mess up.” Cecil-Rowe didn’t extend aid to me, until I admitted the error of my ways. It was infuriating, but he was inflexible. So I fessed up.
“My idiot cousin Ray’s been trying to retain me for almost two weeks, but I was putting him off because I was mad at him. So now my wife’s mad at me, and if I don’t win this case, I’m dead. Plus her dad’s mad at me too and --” My brain roared into overdrive, a mess of family and law and fear, and at the centre of it, thoughts of Angela’s anger and her father. My mind took off, and then came to an instant halt at a helpful destination.
“Yes?” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Sorry. I just realized how to solve the evidence problem. Look, can I ask you about the thing I actually came here to ask you about?”
“You have a problem that’s worse than having no evidence? What could be worse than -- oh. You don’t have a retainer. Your client doesn't have any money.”
“Exactly. How do I get paid? That’s the problem.” I explained that Ray had no money, as in none, and that if he did have money, he wouldn’t spend it on me. Instead, he’d go back downtown and throw his cash at some big firm, who would take on his case, and proceed to lose it in a calm, careful, sober manner, ending in a reporting letter to Ray telling him that he’d lost.
“Now that’s a problem I can solve,” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Really? ‘Cause I can’t see a way around it. I think I’m gonna have to do this for free, and that really pisses me off.” Cecil-Rowe shook his head.
“You may or may not get paid, but you can set things up so that if you win, you’ll win pretty good.”
“How? Ray’s a deadbeat. Tapped out.”
“But is he desperate?”
“Totally. The first time he failed, he lost his own money, but if he goes under this time, he’s taking family money with him, and he’ll be the black sheep forever.”
“And he’s using family to emotionally blackmail you into helping him?’
“Like no shit. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I’m like a goddamn slave, being forced to work for free.”
“Never fear, young apprentice. I have just the thing in mind.” He reached into a drawer, and pulled out a form. “Fill in the blanks, and have him sign.”
I looked it over, and saw that the document was a retainer agreement. I whistled. “Holy shit. If he signs this, he’s almost my slave.”
“Close, but not quite” Cecil-Rowe said, “the Latin term for this is "contractus pro venditione animae"”. It’s the ultimate retainer agreement. Once Ray signs that, you own any cause of action he has against the person suing him. You can settle the case on any terms you like, and you get to keep whatever proceeds there are.” Cecil-Rowe placed the folder back in a drawer, and from his manner you could tell that the interview was over.
“Awesome, Mr. C. I’ll call you from Commercial Court when we’re done.”
“Commercial Court?” he said.
“Yeah, Commercial Court.”
“This just keeps getting worse. Take notes, Calledinthe90s, while I school you on Commercial Court. Commercial Court is a jungle, and without preparation, you’ll get savaged.”
“That’s what happened to Ray when--”
“Take notes, young apprentice,” he said, tossing me a pad and a pen. He started to lecture, and I took notes that I have with me to this day, in a safe deposit box downstairs in the vault at Mega Bank Main Branch.
* * *
By the time Cecil-Rowe finished schooling me, it was close to ten, and the case started at two. I didn’t have much time. I ran down the hall to my office, and called Ray’s restaurant. No answer. Then I called Ray’s house. I expected to get Ray’s wife, but the man himself answered.
“You’re not at work. Why aren’t you at work?”
“Sy-Co Corp served all my employees with a cease and desist letter. They all got scared and took off. The place is shut down.”
“You gotta fax machine at home?” He did, and asked why.
“I’m taking your case, but only if you sign the paper I’m about to send and fax it back.” I sent the fax, and five minutes later it came back signed, and it was official: Ray had sold me his legal soul.
I went out to the parking lot, got into my beater and drove fast. In less than thirty minutes I reached my destination. I knocked on the door, and when it opened, my diminutive mother-in-law poked out her head. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said.
“Sorry, Mrs. M, but I’m in a super hurry. I gotta rush to get to court to help Ray. But first, I gotta speak to Dr. M.”
“He’s not here,” she said.
“Not here?”
“He’s on his way to his bridge game. He left just a few minutes ago.”
“Where’s the club?”
“He’s walking there,” she said, and pointed down the street.
“Thanks.” I got into my car and headed where Mrs. M had pointed, passing big houses and new project with an “Opening Soon” sign. And walking past it was the figure of Dr. M.
“Hey, Dr. M,” I called out the window. He stopped and looked around, startled. But he didn’t see me, not at first.
“It’s me, Dr. M. Me, Calledin90s.” He leaned forward as if to see me better. I got out of the car.
“Is something wrong with Angela? Or the baby?”
“No, no not at all, sorry to scare you, it’s nothing like that. I need your help.”
“Oh.” He started walking again, and now it was my turn to be a bit stunned, watching my father-in-law walk away from me. I caught up with him in a few quick strides.
“Listen, I really need your help.”
“And I really need to get to a bridge game.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Ray.” That brought him to a halt. He turned to me, angrier even than he’d been the night before.
“Did you drive all the way out here just to make fun of me? To remind me of how you won, distracting me with nonsense about Ray’s case?”
“I mean it,” I said, “I can win Ray’s case. I can prove it in a few words.”
“Prove it, then.” So I did. I spoke words, only a few words, but they were the right words to speak to Dr. M, for the words I spoke were in his language, words that he understood perfectly.
“I understand,” he said, “you’ve come to boast some more, to prove that you were right after all.”
“I want to win Ray’s case, but I don’t have any proof of what I’m saying.”
“You don’t need to prove that two plus two is four.”
“This, I gotta prove, and I need you to help me prove it. I need you to come to court with me, as my witness.”
“I can’t do that. I didn’t witness anything.”
“As my witness. My expert witness.” Unlike a normal witness, an expert witness can give an opinion. An expert is there not to advocate, I explained to Dr. M but to instruct, to teach.
“My bridge partner won’t be very happy,” he said.
“But Ray will, and so will Mrs. M and Angela and--”
“Very well. Do you have a cell phone? We can call the bridge club from my car.”
* * *
We were on the highway getting close to the downtown exit, when my wife called my cell phone. Back then cell phone service was super expensive and my wife only used it for emergencies. Or when she was really angry. I picked up the phone, wondering which it would be.
“I’m so happy that you made things up with my father,” she said.
“How did you know?”
“My mother called. She says you took him with you, that you went out together.”
“He’s with me right now,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“To court. Going to court to win Ray’s case for him.”
“And you brought my father with you to watch?” She was so happy, I could hear in her voice that she was smiling. “That’s a great way to bond with him, Calledinthe90s. Look, I’m sorry I got so mad at you earlier, I really am. My dad’s a bit too sensitive and--”
“Sorry, Angela, your dad’s not coming to watch me.”
“Why is he with you, then?”
“He’s my witness,” I said.
“What?”
“His expert witness,” Dr. M said, loudly enough for Angela to hear.
My wife’s anger exploded into the phone. She wanted to know how I could expose her elderly, vulnerable father to the stress of a court case. I tried to tell her how I needed him, how there was literally no one else I could turn to, that her father was an expert, a true expert, and the judge was legally bound to believe him, but Angela heard none of this.
“Look,’ I said, “I promise you that--” And then I lowered the phone and pushed the red button, terminating the call. I’d learned that the best way to hang up on someone, was to do it when I was doing the talking. That way it looked like the call had dropped.
“I’m going to steal that move,” Dr. M said.
We rolled into the parking lot. I grabbed the cloth bag out of the back of my car, the bag that held my law robes and shirt and tabs, plus the other stuff I needed for court. It was one-thirty, still thirty minutes to go, not a lot of time to get robed and ready for court. It was just past one-forty five when I, with Dr. M in tow, opened the door to a courtroom on the eighth floor of an old insurance building that had been converted into a courthouse, the home of Commercial Court.
“Commercial Court is an exclusive club,” Cecil-Rowe had explained to me earlier that day, “the legal playground of the rich and powerful. They’ll know instantly that you’re not one of them.” And he was right. It was clear from the moment I walked in that I did not belong, for I was the only lawyer in robes. Everyone else was wearing a suit, and not some cheap thing off the rack like I wore.
There were a half-dozen lawyers present, and after they saw me, they exchanged knowing looks about the stranger amongst them. I ignored them, and walked up to the Registrar. I told him the case I was on, and he signed me in.
“First time in Commercial Court?” he said, eyeing my robes. “You know you don’t have to be robed in Commercial Court.” In other Superior Courts, you always had to bring your robes and get all dressed up. But Commercial Court had its own set of rules, and in the court for rich people, their lawyers did not have to wear robes.
“You’re here on the Sy-Co case?” a young woman asked. She was a junior like me, give a year or two either way. She was dressed in the finest downtown counsel fashion, some designer thing that Angela would know if she saw it.
“Just got retained,” I said.
“You know there’s no adjournments, right? We don’t do adjournments in Commercial Court. I’m just trying to be helpful, because I don’t think you've been here before. You know you don’t have to be robed, right?
“So I heard.”
“So where’s your material? You haven’t served anything, so how do you plan to argue your case?”
“I gotta witness,” I said.
She smiled. “There’s no viva voce evidence, either. Affidavit only.”
“We’ll see what the judge says.” There was a knock from the other side of the door to the judge’s chambers, and then the man himself entered.
I was amazed to see that even the judge wasn’t wearing a robe; instead, he was wearing a light coloured suit and a bright blue bow tie. He was dressed as good as the lawyers, all part of the downtown Commercial Court club, the playground of the richest and most powerful corporations in the City.
“Commercial Court’s not like other courts,” Cecil-Rowe told me earlier that day, explaining that most cases were over in fifteen minutes or less. A plaintiff showed up with some papers, and had a short consultation with the judge. The judge signed an order granting an injunction, or taking away a man’s business, or freezing his money. Commercial Court is where you went to get quick and simple court orders that eviscerated your opponent before the case even got going.
Defendants would appear sometimes in Commercial Court, Cecil-Rowe explained, but it was usually their last time up. Defendants always died a quick death in Commercial Court.
The judge took his seat, and then looked over the lawyers before him. His eyes moved along, and then stopped when they reached me, the one lawyer who was not like the others.
“You don’t need robes in Commercial Court,” the judge said to me.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I said.
“What case are you on?”
I told him.
“He’s filed no responding materials,” my opponent said, “nothing at all.”
“I’m just vetting the list,” the judge said, “I’ll circle back to you two in a few minutes.” I listend while the judge vetted the rest of the afternoon list: a Mareva, plus a Norwich order, with counsel on those cases sent away in a matter of minutes.
Now the courtroom was almost empty, just the judge, two lawyers, the registrar and my star witness and father-in-law, Dr. M, who sat in the back of the courtroom dressed in an old business suit, put on hastily at his place two hours earlier, when I urged him to hurry it up, to not waste so much time on picking a suit.
“Back to you,” the judge said, addressing my opponent, “I thought this was an uncontested matter. That’s what your confirmation sheet said.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honour, but I didn’t know until I got here that the case was defended.”
“I got retained at the last minute,” I said, “barely three hours ago, the day after I read the papers. But I’m ready to go, ready to argue the case on the merits, so long as you grant me an indulgence, and let me call my witness, to let him testify in person instead of by affidavit, there being no time for me to draft anything.”
Opposing counsel was on her feet. “That’s not how things are done in Commercial Court,” she said, “or any court that I know of, for that matter. My friend (that’s what they make lawyers call each other in court, ‘my friend,’ even though you might hate the other guy’s guts),” the lawyer said, “my friend should have served his responding materials and filed them with the court. Instead, he’s taken us totally by surprise.”
“I’m sorry my friend is surprised by opposition,” I said, “but then consider, it’s my client’s livelihood that’s at stake. If my friend gets her injunction, Ray Telewu’s business is dead, and he loses everything. So yes, my client opposes the injunction, and yes, I’d like to call evidence.”
The judge didn’t consult the papers before him nor the books, but instead, he looked up at the big white clock on the courtroom wall. Its hands said two-fifteen.
“How long will your witness take, counsel?”
“In chief, ten minutes.” I’d practiced with Dr. M on the way in, and I was pretty sure he could do it in five, but I gave him a bit of extra time, just in case.
“We’ve got about two hours,” the judge said, “but I want to be fair to you and your client. Let’s take a fifteen minute recess so you can get instructions. Either we go ahead today with viva voce evidence, or we adjourn, and that will give Calledinthe90s time to file responding materials.”
When everyone came back, the junior’s boss was there, Senior Counsel, a heavy weight, one of those big guys downtown. Plus they brought this guy from Sy-Co Corp, the head of some bullshit division, with some bullshit title, Head of whatever, so that’s the title I’ll give him here. He was The Head. He was the man, the big cheese, the signer of the affidavit on which Sy-Co relied that day.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked Senior Counsel.
He stared at me, all lean and steel grey, looking every inch the hard hitting lawyer that commanded the biggest fees. “If you’re calling a live witness, then so can we. The Head will give evidence today, in advance of your client, so that the judge hears it from him first.” His junior smirked at me, and the two of them sat down, delighted that they’d thought of a way to one up me.
Except that they’d done it by exposing their client to cross-examination. The judge came in, allowed the Head to testify, and when he was done, I stood up.
“Just a few questions,” I said. Senior Counsel was stunned for an instant, and then he stood.
“This serves no purpose, Your Honour. The witness has confirmed the simple facts of his affidavit, and there’s no disputing it. Ray Telewu opened a restaurant less than seventy-one kilometres from Bixity City Hall, and that’s in breach of the Minutes of Settlement he signed.”
I did not bother to respond. Instead, I just stood, and I started to ask questions.
“Have a look at that map in your affidavit,” I said, and he did. I picked up my copy, and tore the map out of it. I passed it up to him.
“What do you notice about this map?”
“That it’s accurate,” the Head said, repeating his evidence in chief, amplifying it, talking about how the map contained perfect measurement.
“You will notice that the map is flat,” I said, laying it on the witness box before him.
“Of course it’s flat. That’s what maps are. Maps are flat.”
“But the earth is round,” I said, “or more properly, a sphere.” Senior Counsel was on his feet in an instant.
“What difference does that make?” he said.
“What you’ll hear from my expert witness, is that a flat map cannot accurately show Earth’s curves. A flat map distorts distances, and in this case, reduces them.”
“But that can’t be by very much.”
“In this case, by just over twenty meters,” Dr. M said from the back of the court.
“That’s my expert witness, the esteemed Dr. M.” I didn’t actually say Dr. M. Instead, I said his real name. But I’m not going to use the real names of my family here, so I’ll just keep calling him Dr. M. “Dr. M was a professor of Physics at the University of Bixity for almost thirty years. He has published numerous papers on particle physics, and is the first Canadian winner of the Wolf Prize for physics.”

• * * *

It went downhill after that for Sy-Co Corp. My father-in-law testified, explaining in simple language, language that even a child could understand, that the Earth was a sphere, that the shortest distance between two points on Earth was a curve, not a straight line. He summarized his calculations in plain English, dumbing down the math, so that everyone present imagined, if only for the moment, that they shared his understanding of a difficult mathematical equation.
Senior Counsel tried to cross-examine Dr. M, but it did not go well, my father-in-law indulging him, gently chiding him, continuing his explanations until the lawyer sat down, defeated by Dr. M’s mastery of the subject,his own lack of preparation and his inability to improvise. When counsel said that he had no further questions, the judge addressed us all.
“I’m not going to reserve, and I don’t think I need to tell everyone why. I think it will take about a minute for me to write a decision saying that the Earth is not flat. I’ll give you some more time after that, but after fifteen minutes, I”ll be back to render my decision.” He rose, everyone bowed, and he disappeared behind the door to judge’s chambers.
I pulled a piece of paper out of my file, and slammed it on the desk before Senior Counsel and his junior. “Fill in the blanks, and sign,” I said.
Dr. M’s head shot up at the commotion, and he shuffled over to see what was going on.
“What’s this?” Senior Counsel said, picking up the paper I gave him..
“Minutes of Settlement. You fill in a number, a big number, for the costs you gotta pay me. Your client signs, and then we’re done.” Senior Counsel opened his mouth to bargain, but I overrode him.
“You know your client’s going to lose; the judge made that obvious. Hurry up if you want to settle; we don’t have much time.”
At the end of most Canadian court cases, the loser has to pay at least part of the winner’s legal fees. That’s the way it’s been since forever, and I think it’s a good rule. Sy-Co Corp had lost, so it had to pay a good chunk of Ray’s costs, and Ray’s costs were somewhere between whatever bullshit figure I claimed they were, and where they actually ought to be. Senior Counsel took the paper over to his client. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back, with the form signed, and a number written in the blank space.
I’ll give it to Sy-Co Corp and their lawyer. It wasn’t a bullshit number, a low ball number. They gave me a real number, a number more like something I’d actually accept, a number that made sense to pay me in costs, in light of the success I’d had, and how I got it. It was a respectful number, a common sense number, and I appreciated it an awful lot.
I tossed the paper back at them.
“Add a zero,” I said, continuing on when Senior Counsel blanched, and his junior retreated a step. “I know what’s going on here. Your client sold mine a bullshit franchise, one with a history of failing.” The franchise had opened up again under a new owner not long after Ray had lost it and then it promptly failed again. Like I said at the start of this story, it’s an old story. It’s how some franchise companies make money. “Your client makes more money selling bullshit franchises doomed to fail, then it does from the honest ones that make money. So add a zero to that number, or Ray’s gonna sue you, class action and all that, for all the people you’ve fucked.”
The Head stepped forward from the benches and spoke to me.
“We get threats like that all the time, but no one follows through. They don’t have the money to fight us, and neither does your client. So go ahead and sue.”
“It’s true that Ray doesn’t have jack shit,” I said, “not a pot to piss in, but he’s my cousin, Ray is, and even if he doesn’t have money, he’s got me. Ray’s family, and for Ray, I’ll sue you guys for free. Hell, I’ll even pay the expenses. Plus I’m gonna put a jury notice in, too, come to think of it, ‘cause juries--”
Senior Counsel cut me off, and moved his client to the back of the courtroom. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back. I watched as Senior Counsel wrote a single digit on the Minutes, a zero, written right where I wanted it.
“You’ll have to initial the change,” I said to the Head of Sy-C0, and it gave me great satisfaction to watch him sign.
“Don’t forget,” I said the moment his pen stopped moving, “for the settlement to be valid, I need to get the money today. Right now.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” the Head said.
“Not if you want the settlement to stay in place. I’ll follow you back to your office, and you can put a cheque in my hands.”

• * * *

“What’s this?” my wife said when I entered the apartment later that day, after I’d driven Dr. M home, stopping first at a local pub for beers.
“It’s an absurdly expensive bunch of flowers,” I said, “although no flowers, however beautiful, however expensive, could expiate my--”
She took the flowers, and gave a kiss.
“My mom called. She told me what happened. You fixed things with my dad.”
“Yup,” I said. I had certainly done that. I’d made Dr. M a professor again, if only for a few minutes. Not only a professor, but an expert witness. The judge had declared him an expert in plain terms and Dr.M had beamed when he’d heard those words.
“And you won Ray’s case, too. But my mom didn’t know how, and I don’t know how you did it either.”
“I’ll tell you over dinner tonight,” I said.
“But we agreed no more dinners out; we have to save money, now that a baby’s coming.”
I passed her the envelope that I’d received a few hours before. She opened it, and took out a cheque, a cheque drawn up for an amount I specified, made payable to Mr. and Mrs. Calledinthe90s.
The moment I got that cheque, all I could think about was how my wife would react when I put it into her hands. I could not wait to see her eyes bulge, to hear her voice say “oh my god,” to hear her laugh.
She did none of these things. Instead, she cried.
“Does this mean we can buy a house?” The money wouldn’t be enough to buy a house, not nowadays, with prices being so crazy. But things were different back then in the 90s. Sure, the internet was barely a thing and cell phones were super expensive and a lot of things sucked, but I’ll give the nineties one thing: houses were cheap.
“I think so,” I said.

TLDR: I’m having new revelations and want to know how my personality matches up to ASPD. Long read.
This is potentially not possible over the internet but I’m having trouble reconciling some ideas and was searching for other opinions. I don’t go to therapy.
I have never thought of myself as “psychopathic.” I’ve always held the belief that people who were psychopathic were violent. I am the opposite. As a kid, I did not outlet anger well, but by the end of elementary school it had been coerced out of me. In the past, when thinking of whether or not I’m a psychopath, I had always hard-stopped the thought because I’m not violent. Over the past few days, I have looked more into psychopathy, and I don’t know how I don’t fit into it.
I used to think I felt empathy like normal people do, but then I learned there’s different kinds of empathy. I don’t think I feel affective empathy at all. It’s essentially all cognitive empathy. I actually didn’t even realize people’s emotional state could change to match another’s when they’re empathizing. Like, hearing how someone lost a family member actually makes people feel sad? I don’t understand that. Personally, I always thought empathy was, “how would I feel in their shoes… not good, I should help them.”
I’ve always maintained towards friends that I don’t feel embarrassment. I used to think I felt remorse, and guilt, but I think deep down, it’s all regret. I don’t even understand how guilt could feel different than remorse. I channel guilt as regret for choosing that behavior, or action. I channel remorse as regret for making someone feel a certain way, because (cognitive empathy kicks in) I wouldn’t want to feel that way.
I think as a kid, I took the Golden Rule as an oath rather than a “rule.” I treated everyone the way I want to be treated. I still do, and I hold myself to strict standards. I studied math in college for 3.5 years (didn’t graduate) and developed a heightened sense for logic. I strive to be as logical as possible, justifying everything I do with it. When it comes to other people, if they don’t have a grasp of logic, I borderline cannot interact with them. I can’t really help it, but I just lose so much respect/admiration for people being unintelligent.
I feel hyper-aware of the people around me (not everyone around me, but those I’m fixated on) and am constantly analyzing and searching for inclinations that: they don’t know logic, are being deceitful, are lying, or being deceptive. I am extremely fixated on figuring out if the person I’m interacting with is being “themselves.” If they aren’t, it’s an immediate loss of respect and admiration. It’s as if I’m automatically gaining the knowledge that this person is less than me because I’m following the code and they aren’t.
I have this code of good behavior, and logic, that I follow very closely. I’m constantly observing other people to see if they deviate from that code. I really try to avoid conflicts with people. They never happen with strangers, but on occasion with people I have been close with. It usually starts with me recognizing a patterned behavior I don’t like, and I either address it, or stir up the conversation to a point where the behavior is inevitably forced to the surface, and must be addressed. I do this with hard facts and logic, and am paying such close attention to every detail — I can’t possibly be caught mixing up my words or being wrong. If someone tells me I’m wrong, they instantly become inferior to me, because they aren’t considering everything I’m considering.
I’ve never ONCE associated any of this with psychopathy until the past few days. A lot of my research showed that psychopaths do lie. They are manipulative, and deceitful — not feeling bad when they wrong someone. This could NOT be me, as I try so hard to be logical and stray from manipulation. I like facts, only.
But then I got to thinking. I DO lie. I lie about substance abuse. I lie about the money I make. The money I spend. I lie about the direction I’m heading in life. I lie about what I want to do. I lie so I can do what I want to do. I lie a fuck-ton, but only as it pertains to me. I don’t lie to gain status in a conversation. I don’t lie to create a power imbalance. I lie so that my world does not come crashing down on me. I’m deceitful towards my mother. Everything I am so meticulous about when it comes to social interaction, is voided when it comes to MY existential future on Earth.
It’s hard for me to understand if this is psychopathy or not. I used to think I had ADHD because of my dysfunction, and because I feel like my brain is very active. But the activity I refer to in my brain, I believe is just rumination. I used to explain to my friends that I have a really good memory, and it’s associated with when I have a strong emotional release. It’s almost like… a photographic memory in the moments surrounding my entrance into a heightened emotional state. I have a diagnosed IQ of over 140, and have always attributed my hyper-awareness, attention to detail, and memory to that. What I’m learning about psychopathy is painting a slightly different picture when I think back to everything I’ve thought about in the past. I thought, more recently, I had OCD. Primarily because I have obsessive thoughts about people and their social intents. These thoughts have been aroused primarily in the last few years, but I wasn’t as aware of them until now. Researching psychopathy leads me to believe I’m ruminating when my emotional state is disturbed.
I’m trying not to confirm my biases, but it is difficult to keep that line clear.
I’ve recently realized I have a bit of an obsession with control. Not that I need to be in control. Rather, other people aren’t in control of themselves, and so I make it my duty to “help” them get in control. I don’t have a lot of great examples of this in real life, because I spend a lot of time in isolation. I’ve done a lot of this virtually in videogames. The worst thing I’ve done, in the sense of establishing control, is I called another kid’s school principal, and left a voicemail lying about how the kid beat up my sister while they were walking home after school. I don’t even have a sister. I wanted it to be established — I am not to fuck with.
Zero guilt. Zero remorse. A tinge of regret due to cognitive empathy. Zero fear of consequence. And there was no consequence.
When it comes to manipulation, I do my best not to manipulate. I have heard from close friends, ex girlfriends, and my mother, that I’m manipulative. In my mind, they have all been 100% completely unjustified and unreasonable when they said it. Looking back, I try to understand where they’re coming from, but I can’t. Either I’m manipulative but have zero idea, or I’m just correct and they were being stupid to suggest that. It sounds so conceited and arrogant writing it out, but at the same time I fully believe it to be true. In my eyes, they’re all manipulators.
Perhaps there are fundamental aspects of psychopathy that are missing from my thought, and I don’t match up to them. An opinion on just… what you think of me, I guess, would be listened to. There’s probably a lot of context that I left out. I can provide it, if need be.
My final thought is, would an undiagnosed psychopath, who believes they’re a psychopath, believe a diagnosed psychopath if they tell them they’re not a psychopath? Thanks for the read.

So, I've kind of posted about this in other threads, specifically on askreddit, but by some users request, I will do my best to fully relay this entire tale up to the current point, as well as provide as much context I am able (and will provide missing context if asked in comments).
TL;DR
A friend of mine of 4 years drank himself into liver failure and his wife cheated on him, so I offered him a free room to try and put his life back together, and I was repaid for the thought with a divorce of my own, but honestly, it's probably not that bad.
Part 1: CONTEXT
Me and my wife have been together since early 2014, and married in late 2017. We have been through much together, including two extended deployments, one of which was 10 and a half months long. We have traveled the world together, lived on both coasts of the US, and despite much of our struggles and how things eventually went down, I was always convinced we would work as a team to overcome any issues.
The friend in question was, largely, an online friend. We met playing an MMO during covid and we quickly formed a very tight knit, but small, community that were very close that included me, my wife, my friend, his wife, and 4 other friends. Covid was a wild time and I was surprised how easy it was to form friends in this group and we kept in touch, as a whole, even once quarantine had ended and most of us had moved on from that particular game. This was a group that, while it started online, we have met most of these people several times IRL and had vacations to spend time together and just hang out.
Part 2: His Problems
Fast forward to about January of 2024. My buddy, from here on out I will refer to as Z (and for a quick add, I will refer to my wife as D), contacts us to tell us his condition is dire and he has been diagnosed with stage 4 cirrhosis of the liver as a consequence of his extensive drinking. Shaken, we quickly charter a flight out to visit. Within a week, we're staying with him and his wife and his roommate and a couple members of his family who are taking care of him. This man is bloated, yellow, and probably about 350lbs now. We are worried, but stay supportive and positive that help can be found, especially since he seems keen on changing his lifestyle for the better. Some of his family start a gofundme that we donate to, and many of the people in our gaming circle who have grown close also donate several thousand dollars (One member of our raid team donated 10k. You never know who is stealth rich on the internet I guess). Me and several other friends discuss the possibilities of helping him get on disability and even getting ourselves tested as compatible living donors. Sad, but hopeful, we depart about a week later, and stay in constant touch.
About a month later, I'm getting a call from one of our mutuals letting me know that "Hey, so I may have goofed up." and tells me how Z's wife had visited him and had a 3 way with him and his wife. I am obviously irate at this and turn to back Z up with comments like "So much for in sickness and in health, huh?" I do what I can to stay supportive, and my wife, D, also makes it a point to stay in touch with him as he has found himself banished to the couch of his apartment. Not even allowed to sleep in his own bed and frequently uncomfortable even being in his bedroom to use the PC.
I'm not particularly rich, but I am not poor either. I served in the military and have a high VA rating which means a constant income and have a steady job and a couple side gigs that pay well enough. My love language, in many ways, is gift giving. I pride myself on being able to pick a good gift, even if it's a little early for an occasion such as a bday or christmas, and will often pull the trigger on something if it means a lot or I think it will help. In this case, my brother was selling an old steam deck because he wanted a new OLED model, so I figured "two birds, one stone", and buy the steam deck off him and send it to Z so we can still game together.
In the intervening months, Z and D start playing games that I have no interest in (Disney Dreamlight Valley), but I am happy to play other games and hang out and chat. Really, nothing seems amiss, but since his banishment, me and my wife are both pushing for him to come and take up the spare bedroom we have in our home. Soon enough, I buy him a plane ticket and he arrives with little more than the clothes on his back and we take him in, no cost other than the expectation that he might help around the house a bit (he was a chef, so having a cook and someone to help clean was ideal for me who often did not have the time or energy to handle these tasks as thoroughly as I would like).
Part 3: The Incident
Now, I am skipping ahead a little bit here, but there's not much to be said about the time between. My wife worked part time hours, and when she did go to work, she'd have him tag along just so he wouldn't "Sit and stew with bad thoughts" at the house alone. I will admit that throughout this entire ordeal, I have had several, several times where my brain tried to warn me, but I ignored ALL of those signs because I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted her with my life.
One new, frequent argument I found myself having with her was she would fall asleep on the couch, and when I finally tried to go to bed, I'd do my best to wake her and drag her upstairs. These became extremely frequent occurrences and I expressed to her how frustrated I was that I had to fight with her just to come to bed so we could sleep (mind you, this is not even about sex. Often I'm taking her to bed at like, 1am and I work at 7, so I really just wanted her to be sleeping in the bed). Hell, one time, I started catching the vibes that the longer I sat and waited for her to be ready to go upstairs, she just never would be, because they were waiting for me to leave so they could talk in hushed tones. On THAT particular night, I went upstairs alone with her finally awake, and she did not join me for another half hour.
Finally, the day arrives. Its Sunday. We are all downstairs hanging out. One of their newest habits I can't really stand but just dealt with is that she'd sit and crochet while he doomscrolled or strummed on a guitar I bought him and listen to music videos on youtube endlessly. Eventually, I grow weary and give my wife a kiss and tell her I'm gonna go upstairs and play some GW2 for a bit.
About an hour passes, and she enters the game room and tells me "I am uncomfortable. I really need to talk to you. Oh, you're dying!" (As she entered the room, I immediately turn face to talk to her and disregard the game, but she decided that my Charr was more important that what was about to happen, so she of course warns me.) We step into the bedroom and close the door.
"You're going to hate me," she says through tears, "me and Z kissed!" At this point, my brain short circuits and I recall one of my first thoughts being "Oh lord, here we go." and just a general desire to not be a part of this conversation. Shock sets in almost immediately. Still with a healthy dose of denial, I talk to her about what had happened and told her that it needed to end. Even at this point, I did not want to send this man home. Was it shock? Denial? Probably a mixture of the two, or some other additional emotional responses. She gets up after some discussion and goes downstairs, promising to shut him down, but comes back about 15 minutes later sobbing "I couldn't do it! I couldn't end it..." (Side note: In my confused haze of a mind, I feel personally threatened, and after she leaves the bedroom, I lock the door and grab a metal water cub I keep at my side and prepare to actually fight if it comes to it, but once she returns, I back off that idea again.)
Talking with her more, I present her with two options; Couple's therapy, or divorce. BOTH of these options are world ending to her, and she even goes so far as to suggest that just because I said the "D word" that it was what I wanted, which was objectively untrue. We talk back and forth about things I don't quite recall at this point, aside from one point where she comes back and locks herself in the master bath and tells me to call 911, she doesn't care, because she's going to take a bunch of pills, but after a couple of hours, Z shows up to the door and knocks and asks if he can come in. I tell him he may enter, and we talk for a bit. After about 5ish minutes, we decide to go downstairs to the living room and continue the discussion.
Once I sit down on the sofa, I immediately feel like I'm being positioned as the bad guy. I'm in the corner of our sectional, and she's on my left, he's on my right. She tells him "He said it's either a divorce or couple's therapy." "Oh, so he gave you an ultimatum?" I continue to argue that yes, those are the two only options. Z tells me "You're not being fair to her emotions. She is telling you there is another option." I am thoroughly baffled at this statement.
D: I didn't think it was possible and I didn't mean for it to happen, but I have fallen in love with another man. My heart has room for two. I truly have two soulmates. I have never been happier than sleeping on the couch next to my two boys.
Z: There is no reason you guys can't stay married, and we can explore what we've found. I mean, look at how happy she has been since I have been here!
Sick to my stomach, I get up to go vomit in the toilet. Now, I wore a silicone wedding ring, and often find even with a hand wash, a little water tends to get trapped under it. After I finish and wash myself up, I come back and am playing with my ring to dry it. She sees this as a sign that I am uncomfortable again wearing my ring, and takes off her ring as I sit back down and hands me her wedding ring.
Me: Uh, excuse me?
D: This is what you want, I can tell.
Me: No? I was washing my hands and water gets stuck under my ring...
D: Oh... I thought... okay. (And she takes back her ring from me)
I tell her, very clearly, the options are to either end things with him, or end things with me. At this point, I'm still in shock, but sober in mind enough to decide that this is not worth fighting over. I will not argue with my own wife my merits or why she shouldn't just pack up and leave with a jobless, now essentially homeless man, and if she cannot figure that out herself then I will eventually move on.
Crying, sobbing, she sits down in front of him and says, "I'm so sorry, I fought for you. I really did. I told you I'd fight for you and I failed. I loved being your girlfriend, but I need to be a good wife and stay."
Z says "Alright." and starts to go gather his things to leave. As he does, she grabs him and says "No, wait! Please don't go. I don't know what I want."
Z: Ok, well if we're getting all this out in the open, I want to say this. I love this girl. I love her with my whole heart, and without her, life is not worth living. I will not leave this house if you (me) tell me to. Only her. You are taking this very well right now, I can tell you want to hit me (Still in shock, no, I can genuinely say that emotion or thought had not actually registered outside of the event upstairs earlier), but this is my stand.
D: OP, we had a good run. I'm sorry.
And with that, I get up and go to get my sandals and leave the house to get some air. As I try to go, she runs to the door and he follows her. She pushes the door closed and says "No wait, please!"
Me: No, this is the deal. I'm going out to get some fresh air. I am not threatening self harm to "win you back".
D: Will you be back?
Me: I don't know.
Z: Man, I'm telling you, you don't understand, you think I am your enemy, but I am not.
And with that, I leave and shut the door.
In the about, hour, I am gone, I drive around near the house and I call my supervisor who I have a very good relationship with (and I did not want to involve direct friends or family yet because I'm afraid it's too early to start spreading this news). I go over to her house nearby and we chat shortly. After our talk, I have at least something of a clear head and go home, with words for both of them.
As I arrive home, there is no one downstairs. I go upstairs. His door is closed. I knock on the door.
Z: Uh, one second.
I wait for about 5 agonizing seconds, but I refuse to be shut out of rooms in my own home and open the door. He is shirtless, and she is hiding in the corner just out of sight of me. I look him in the eye.
Me: Really?
Z: Yep.
Me: Get out of my house.
And with that, they both silently pack their things and leave.
The second I hear the front door close, I start calling people. I am not above pettiness, and the first person I call is her mom, whom I have a good relationship with. She is SHAKEN and immediately calls her. (I find out later that it was a particularly harsh verbal beating by her, but it really doesn't change anything.)
When I come downstairs to check the state of the house, I see her wedding ring on the counter. I call out of work the next day and lay down and hope I die.
Part 4: Her Problems
So, there is some additional context that I did not add in part 1 because a lot of it is red flags I ignored over the course of our relationship that, in the days following, started to become more and more obvious. There are many that I spent much effort playing off or covering her for, but I will try to briefly list much of what I see as glaring issues in the relationship that were never remedied.
This woman is 30 years old and cannot drive. She can drive and HAS driven my vehicle at the start of the relationship (albeit illegally), but after one tiny little accident where she hit a pole and knocked my side mirror off (which she paid for and fixed before telling me, it really wasn't a big deal. I was on deployment), she never drove again. Attempts to get her behind the wheel would end very quickly after they started, and the conditions to get her in the seat were often extremely time limited, scheduled, or something would come up, and every time I told her "okay, this month we're getting your license for sure" it just wouldn't happen and I'd end up feeling like the one who was at fault.
She does not have her Bachelor's degree because she did not turn in her final project for one single class. Not only that, but she has never truly pursued a career with the things she learned from the coursework, or even used her AA.
For half of the relationship, she did not work at all. When she did, it was often part time work, and if she was saddled with full time hours or, god forbid, overtime, it was a world-ending affair. She would come home and constantly be tired from her few hours at work and would do little more than sit around and crochet.
Our agreement when we bought our house was that she was going to work full time and we were going to split household duties, but I would definitely scoop the cat box because she was allergic (but she wanted cats) and wash dishes (because she hated them), and she would do laundry (because I hated it). In practice, all her version of laundry turned out to be was to throw loads in when one of us was out of clothes and just hit wash and then rotate, and then leave all the clothes in a pile on the bed. EVERYONE KNOWS folding the laundry is the worst part! Come on! Men's clothes are easy! I don't wear that much! (When we would fold, I often finished in a third of her time and would just hang out and chat until she was done)
Ultimately, this meant that for many years now, she was working barely more than part time if she was working at all, and would sort-of do laundry. Meanwhile, I am scooping litter, folding laundry, doing dishes, doing all related yard work, doing all the household cleaning, handling all the finances, I did MOST of the cooking, and all of the grocery shopping (often going alone), driving her from work if I could (she'd uber it if not) and picking her up and driving her home, as well as just generally being a chauffeur for her for 10 years, while working a full time job and a side gig online. Many nights I'd have to stop what I was doing to pick her up at closing hours, and then would sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes while she did tasks like vacuum her little crystal shop that she definitely could have done before close so I didn't end up waiting so damn long. Then we'd come home hang out and eat while we watched TV, and then if I wanted to try and go upstairs to do another hobby, I'd be silently guilted about it because she wanted to sit on the couch and crochet.
Part 5: My Problems
I am not perfect, and admit I have flaws. One of her favorite things to claim to our friends now is that I was "emotionally neglectful", and if there is truth to it, I think I can pin down the day. Before I started working full time again, I was going to school on the 9/11 GI bill. I was not a good student in my younger years, but in time, I have become rather good at school. My first two semesters back I easily maintained a 4.0 GPA. Over the summer in 2022, I, woefully, decided to take a Calc 2 class online because I could not find one in person and wanted to be ready for Calc 3 in the Fall to fill a prereq for my bachelor's, and I really liked the instructor for that Calc 3 class. This calc 2 class was painful. The instructor had clearly recorded all his lectures during Covid and we were simply given the full course of videos and given work assignments and said "Email me if you have questions." This is not how I learn, but I figured, hey, it's one class. I'm working again, but one class isn't a huge deal. I can knock this out.
I was wrong.
After the second exam, I had a low C in the class and I knew I couldn't keep up. I withdrew from the class feeling no other option. I tend to be pretty good at math, and ultimately my dream was to work with 3d printing on an industrial scale with a Mechanical Engineering degree- and if that failed I had my military history (which is engineering relevant) and a degree to fall back on and work should come easily. After clicking that withdraw button, I saw those dreams vaporize. After that, I threw myself into my government civilian job full time and slowly fell into depression. By the end of our relationship, with the toll of doing 99% of the work around the house and for her and with my dreams dead and buried, at age 33, I would wake up and pray I died. I would never kill myself, but I wanted to just die. I felt backed into a corner. I still did everything I could to support her and hoped that one day, she would pick up some of the load and maybe, just maybe, I could go back, but that day did not come (At least not in the way I expected).
Part 6: The Aftermath
This post is already too long, and if I include every single detail that has come to light since, I might actually hit the post cap, but I will go over at least some of it here.
I have had my friends come out in droves. Both of them have been effectively exiled, at least from what I can see, from every friend circle we have. After a couple of days, they flew back to live with, I guess, his parents in Vegas while they sorted shit out, because after I spoke with Z's previous roommate, he adamantly explained he was tired of all the "fucking drama" that Z had been bringing into the house and was just done with it.
I have spoken with many, many people and gotten even more context and even receipts of some of each of their conversations to our mutual friends, and some of the shit I read is just hilarious. He is "not ashamed of pursuing happiness, he is just sad that people got hurt". She is "coming to terms with emotional neglect and felt trapped, but now, yes now, she is free."
I got my neighbors to watch the cats, and took my dog up to visit my closest friend of 20 years and spent about a week and a half drinking, smoking, and talking about all this while surrounded by some of the most beautiful nature the US has to offer. Truly, without this man, I don't think I'd have gotten this far as quickly as I have. He really has been a lifesaver and I truly, to my dying day, will always appreciate him.
Paperwork has been filed, we wish to remain on good terms, and one day I still do hope I can be a friend to her, but she is woefully immature and incapable of adequately performing in an adult society. I have quit my job and am returning to school with a much lighter budget and will be getting that degree I desperately need.
It's been hard, real hard. I have put every ounce of my being into this relationship, and I truly felt like she was part of me, and nothing like this could ever happen. But it's that trust that allowed this to happen. I do not hate her, I'm just disappointed. I will pick up my pieces and, hopefully, find myself whole again soon.
Part 7: Rambling anecdotes
These are some stories I wanted to include in the previous body of text but didn't feel like it kept the same flow (if there even is any at all, I'm not proofreading this). If I remember any others after I post, Ill just toss them in the comments.
Early after Z came to live with us, my mother came to the house to drop off a package. I am pretty sure I was at work, but when my mother came to the door, both of them answered the door and the way my mom describes it "First of all, do you answer the door at your friends house? Also, the way he hovered over her made me uncomfortable. They were in the doorway and he was right up behind her poking his head out." She said my wife had told her that I was feeling unwell and was upstairs sleeping. I can't even be sure at this point.
Shortly before all the things happened, my parents were going out of town to celebrate their own anniversary, and I had agreed to dog-sit their 5 month old puppy (who, while cute, has WAY too much energy and was EXTREMELY difficult to handle, and I have raised several dogs at this point). We met up and took the dog, and then ALL of us (including Z) went to dinner. At dinner, my mother looked at my wife and asked, directly "And so how long have you been married? 6, almost 7 years? Well at least you missed that 7 year itch, huh" and my wife shortly followed with a comment about how she was not hungry and did not eat dinner that night.
All of this happened WHILE THIS CRAZY PUPPY was running around the house, and part of me thinks he pushed this to happen when it did because he could not stand having to help take care of this dog any longer (2 days).
About a week after all this happened, my wife did not text or call me, or respond to any messages or emails I sent her (I didn't send many, but they exist). Frustrated, I text her and tell her I need to talk to her about logistics moving forward, specifically about her belongings. She told me "I will talk to you when I am ready." We did not talk for another week. Also, she told me to stop talking to her mom. (I have a good relationship with both of my in-laws and while her step-father tried to remain impartial to the best of his abilities, he gave me some of the best advice I could possibly have gotten at that time, mostly about how to move forward and cope, as he has personally dealt with this with smaller relationships 3 separate times in his life which he gave me details on, and we are still on good terms.)
Their favorite TV show to watch together was Outlander, which, if you aren't aware, is basically a story about a woman who time travels and has two men in her life.
One of our biggest constant points of contention was my friendship with an old high school buddy (who I spent much of the time in the aftermath hanging out with while healing). We believe, with good reason, that she hated this man because after I had almost been hospitalized for psych reasons due to stress, he had told me I needed to talk to her about working again and doing more to help around the house. She figured out, obviously, who was telling me to say these things, and sent a very, very angry text to his wife. They all apparently made up, but I know she never let that grudge go.
One of the fairly recent hobbies I got into was D&D. It seemed like a good fit for all of us. She loved fantasy and gaming, I enjoyed 3d printing and story telling. She needed friends, and a party of people hangin out would give her at least a few connections to start. Every night she "participated" in D&D, she mostly sat quiet and did not do anything. Hell, I tried to get her to participate in 2 different games, and after she left the first one, she asked to just sit quietly in the discord call (This first one was online only, second was in person) and listen, which was super awkward. In the in person game, after 3 months of playing, she did not know how to play her character at all, and mostly spent her time at the table crocheting. (My buddy even made a comment about how at one point, he was proud of how good I was getting at DMing and I was giving particularly good exposition, and she interrupted me to hand another player at the table a dice bag she made. I don't remember it, but I absolutely believe this happened.)
The day of "the incident", she had a meltdown about how a friend of hers had ghosted her. I told her it was okay, she was much younger anyway and people grow apart. She's probably going through stuff and we should respect that path she's on. She cried about how she has no friends.
Also the day of "the incident", we were in the shower together and she told me she had met her sister's new BF on facetime. I asked "why did she break up with her old one?" "Well... she cheated on him." "Oh, that's a shame. Cheating is probably the most cowardly act a person can do to another. If you're going to start a new relationship, you need to grow a pair and end it before starting a new one." She clearly took my words to heart.
One of my biggest pet peeves about cleaning the house is our dog sheds, a lot. If I see a hairball roll through the house it immediately drains me a bit. We had a roomba. She would send that thing home when it started and never start it again. It barely ran. She would not vacuum.
One of the most common descriptors of her I've heard used by many people now that they're "allowed to" is "She was there, doing the thing with us, but it was like she wasn't there."
Something she thought that I apparently hadn't figured out by the time we talked after everything happened was that they had been talking since February. I told her I wasn't stupid and had figured it out already that this wasn't out of the blue.
Z's wife is currently pregnant with the baby of the man she cheated on him with. (And he is also married)
Anything else I remember Ill leave for comments, I know there is much, much more.

I need a watch mainly for normal somewhat competitive running training: to measure distance, speed, and heart rate. I had the M430 for many many years and loved it for its simplicity and how it could do everything essential. Eventually the battery life started to be compromised, so I decided to upgrade to Polar Pacer, which I read is a similar watch but with some new features.
I'm disappointed - many functions that were working well in M430 have been made worse for some reason.
The main ones concern interval training:

1. When doing intervals, I use a lap view with "Average lap pace" as the main thing to help pace myself. Expect, it is actually not showing average lap pace, but is so severely delayed that it becomes essentially useless. Say I'm trying to run 3-min repetitions at 4 min/km pace. Starting off, the "avg pace" might lag stuck at 4:17 forever, even though I feel I'm running faster. It will slowly drift to perhaps 4:10 over the first minute, and then 4:05 over the second minute. Then, suddenly it jumps to 3:52 min/km during the last minute. So I have overshot it due to the lag. The feature clearly does not work, which is surprising, as it worked perfectly in M430. Ironic that the watch calls itself "Pacer" and fails at this basic task. Now I have to do the math in my head while I run by looking at the distance and time ("4 min/km pace is 250m per minute") to be able to gauge how I'm doing - the distance is correct in the watch. This is silly: the watch should be doing the math for me! But it is not calculating simple average pace! Instead, it seems to be using some obscure weighted average that makes it useless in short intervals (not that 1-4 min intervals are that short - you can easily get good enough GPS to calculate this, as proven my the instant pace which works well).
   
2. When pressing the lap button, I only get the lap time. This can't be customized. In M430, I got lap pace and lap heart rate on the flash screen, which again, made pacing an entire interval session much easier. Lap time is not interesting unless I'm on the track which already gives me distance, but even then, I'd rather see average pace to avoid doing the math in my head! If I'm doing 3-min intervals, I know that the lap time is 3 min, so don't show me that and allow be to choose a more informative variable.
   
3. Polar Pacer is advertised as being compatible with the Stryd pod. I already had one (and use it occasionally), and that's why I didn't go for the Pacer Pro. IT IS NOT COMPATIBLE WITH STRYD. Yes, it shows you power in real time when you run, but it does not store running power data, so that you cannot see what you did afterwards or use that metric to monitor training. This should be made clear before selling the watch as "Stryd-compatible".
   
4. Treadmill running speed is way off. This was the case for M430 too, but you would think that this is a very easy thing to fix with a calibration factor that you can manually put in. Why did Polar not do that? Even in my ancient Polar RS200 from like 20 years ago, you could manually calibrate their footpod against a known distance. Why not in 2024, Polar? Again, treadmill data is pretty useless because of this.
   

I'm thinking of switching to Garmin or Coros for my next watch. Polar is just so far behind in features these days. The HR stuff is good, better than anyone, but that's just not enough to make me commit to Polar anymore if they don't care about basic functionality. I already switched to Garmin for my bike computer as Polar is completely uninterest in cycling metrics.
This was mainly to rant about how a "Pacer" watch does not to its job, but also to perhaps hear solutions in case I'm getting something wrong and not configurating the watch properly. What are your experiences?

(An animation shows black and white clouds parting)
Charles: (Off-screen) Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Lucy was one of these angels. She was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But she was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt her way of thinking was dangerous to the perder of their world. So she watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Eve (I couldn't think of a female name that looked like Adam) and Lilian. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Eve demanded control and Lilian refused to submit to her will. He fled the garden. Drawn in by his fierce independence, Lucy found him and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Eve's new groom, Adam, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For the single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucy and her love into the dark pit she had created, never allowing her to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Lucy lost her will to dream. But Lilian thrived, empowering demon-kind with his voice and his songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. But Lilian's hope remained. And his dream was passed down to their precious son, the Prince of Hell. (The prince shuts the "Story Of Hell" book) (On-screen) Don't worry, Dad. I'll make you proud. (He holds a key)
Vagner: Charles?
Charles: Augh! (The key turns into a cat) Oh, shit. Did you hear all that?
Vagner: Uh... Yeah, I was right there.
Charles: Sorry. I get worked up after an extermination happens. This story helps.
Vagner: (chuckles) I know. Don't worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?
Charles: I'm fine, just...Thinking, ya know, family stuff.
Vagner: Did you hear from your dad yet?
(Charles shakes his head saying no)
Vagner: Oof. How long has it been now?
Charles: Not that long, only...Seven...Years...Off something important, I'm sure. But this kingdom was something he really cared about. Something I care about.
Vagner: Well, at least you aren't alone.
Charles: I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work.
Vagner: It will. I have faith in you.
(The cat hopes on Charles)
Vagner: All right. Come on. Alice says she has something to show us.
(Vagner heads to the door and Charles look out of the window and see Hell on fire and goes)
(A commercial plays)
Alice: Well, hello there you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do. That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucy's delusional son Charleson Morningstar! Come place your fate in his inexperienced hands as he tries to work through his mommy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun thing! Such as somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour Pest Control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! You last desperate attempt at salvation starts here.
(The tv suits off)
Alice: So, what'd ya' think?
Vagner: I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?!
Charles: Uh, yeah, one note...Alice, I mean...First off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um...Maybe the tone is a bit...Off? We want people to want to come here, this makes it look...Ummm...
Vagner: Bad. The word you're looking for is "bad".
Alice: Funny, I was going for hilarious!
Vagner: It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.
Charles: Vagner is right, Alice. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to help them.
Alice: Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself! But YOU insisted on this noisy picture box adversiment! So I had a little fun with it.
Vagner: Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it? (Stand on the sofa) Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run the hotel! Instead, you're mocking us. Nobody's going to want to come to a place that a powerful overlord like you thinks is a waste of time!
(A demon on a sofa raises her hand)
Vagner: What?
Angela: If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?
Vagner: Angela, you're a porn star.
Angela: A famous porn star. I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' these walls down to get in.
Vagner: We are not filming a porn as a commercial.
Angela: Why not? Sex sells, don't it? I swear if you film me goin' at it with mistress fancy-talk-creepy-voice here, you'd rollin' in participants willin' to stay at this tacky hotel.
Alice: Haha! Never going to happen!
Charles: Angela, I appreciate you wanting to use you special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but...I really don't want to exploit you, in that way!
Angela: Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs. I got the lung capacity-- Oh-oh I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes...
(Charles laughs uncomfortably and his phone rings with his mom calling)
Angela: The small tits that make everyone think I'm a man...
Charles: Uhhh, hold that thought. I'll be right back! (Walks away)
Angela: I could keep goin' all night, baby.
(Charles breathes and answers the phone)
Charles: Hello? Mom?
Angela: Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't she just make people stay here?
Alice: Oh, trust me, (ominously) I can!
Hisky: Why the hell do you think I'm here?
(The camera goes to Hisky at the bar)
Hisky: You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitches moan all the time if she wasn't forcin' me?
Niffter: I like being forced!
Hisky: Keep that to yourself, Niff.
Angela: What, you don't like being here with me, Whiskers?
Hisky: Call me "Whiskers" again and I'll that bottle down your throat.
Angela: Kinky. But I like pussies. But keep talkin' dirty.
Vagner: Ugh, Angela, let Hisky do her job. And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to.
Angela: I'm choosing to be here, and I think is all stupid. We're in Hell, toots. It's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?
Vagner: Well, maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it before doesn't mean is not possible. (Angela pust her arm in his shoulder)
Angela: Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive.
Charles: (excitedly) Yeah, I can! Totally. Yeah, I'll head over there right away...Okay. (Turns off the phone) Hah! YES! YES!! Hahahaha!! Vagner! Holy shit!
Vagner: Ahh! What?!
Charles: (through closed mouth) Get over here!
(Vagner sighs and goes to where Charles is)
Vagner: What's going on?
Charles: (Inhales) My mom just called. She said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet. She asked if I could go instead. (Breathes deeply)
Vagner: But... But...But the extermination just happened. What would they want this soon after...
Charles: (Singing) I can do this. Somehow, I know it I'll get Heaven behind my plan!
Vagner: Charles, hold on.
Charles: There's just no way I could blow it. Not this once a lifetime change!
Vagner: It's just a meeting.
Charles: To change their minds. And touch their hearts. Or whatever angels have.
Vagner: This could be bad.
Charles: Cheer up, Vagner. This could be swell. Something tells that today will be a happy day in Hell!
Vagner: Okay, but just don't... sing to them.
Angela: That motherfucker is halfway down the street.
Vagner: Is he...
Angela: Oh, he's dancin'.
Vagner: Ugh, no.
Charles: There's a warm fuzzy feeling that wafts through the air! Every street so revealing it's hard not to stare. It's a realm so appealing it beats anywhere! If you don't mind the smell! It's a happy day in Hell! Hi, miss!
Demon: Go fuck yourself!
Dead Sinner #1: There's a endless trash fire that's burnig my soul!
Charles: Hello!
Imp: There's a lot of barbed wire to shove in her holes!
Charles: Uh, excuse me...
Executioner: Doing what is required we all have a role!
Dead Sinner #2: I'm not doing well!
Ensemble: Another shitty day in Hell!
Charles: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed, that any soul can change!
Vagner: Those angels minds are hard to change!
Charles: Then they know that everyone can be redeemed from the evil to the strange!
Vagner: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!
Charles: I can hear all their stories, the lost and the displaced! And I know that they're of an acquired taste! But if I open the door and give them a place at my Hazbin Hotel it'll be a happy day in Hell! (Jumps in the back of a truck) From the porn studio where the cinephiles go to watch award winning demon bukkake shows to the Cannibal Town where they don't wear a frown 'cause...Holy shit, ew, my gosh, why?! And I don't give a crow that her brains got in my eye! Cause I know I can spare them from Heaven's genocide! I can do this...
Dead Sinner #1: There's an endless trash fire...
Charles: I just know it! Dead Sinner #1: That's burning my soul!
Chorus: Ahhhhhhhhhh!
Charles: I'll get Heaven behind my plans! There's just no way I could blow it!
Demon Sinner #3: I kinda like the barbed wire that's shoved in my hole!
Charles: Not this once in a lifetime chance! To change their minds!
Trenchcoat Demon: And touch my parts!
Charles: Oh...No, thank you. I'm just gonna...Fullfill my destiny!
Trenchcoat Demon: Your loss fucker!
Charles: I can already tell! Today is gonna be a fucking happy day in Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell! (Charles enters at the lobby) Hello? (echoes) Hello? Creepy...(He goes to the reception, rings the bell in the table and a paper and a feather pen appear in front of him) Oh, okay! Also creepy. (Signs the paper)
(Elevator doors open, Charles goes to them and enters in a dark room)
Charles: Hello? Is anyone here?
(The lights turn on)
Eve: 'Sup?
Charles: Holy shit! (Falls in the floor and gets up) Hi, I'm Charles. My mom asked if I could meet you.
Eve: Yeah, I know.
Charles: Okay, well, it's nice to meet you. (Stands his hand)
Eve: Totally. Nice to meet you, too. (Stands her hand)
(Charles hand passes through Eve's hand)
Charles: Ahh!
Eve: Ha! I fucking got you! Did you fuckin' see that?
(Luther shaves his head in yes)
Eve: Good shit!
Charles: Uh, so wait, you aren't here?
Eve: No, you think I'd come down there? (Laughs) No. I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fuckin' hardcore, don't get me wrong. But, it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there's just so "eugh" ya know? (Chuckles) Ew.
Charles: Right. So I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. There's a project I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about...(Eve puts her finger in his mouth)
Eve: Hey, hey, hey, slow down. We got time. How about we get to know each other, mm? How about some lunch? You hungry? I got you! (Shows a plate with ribs) Here's my personal favourite. You'll love it.
Charles: Uh, thanks! (His arms passes through the plate of ribs)
Eve: (Laughing) I got you again, fucker! Haha fuckin' hilarious! Haha!
(Back at the Hazbin Hotel, everyone is at the lobby)
Vagner: Okay, so Charles is dealing with something very important, so while he's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that representants his vision and what we're doing here. So we need a camera. Alice?
(Alice snaps her fingers and an old camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: A video camera.
Alice: Hmmm. (Snaps her fingers)
(A video camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: All right, let's do this!
(Vagner films Angela sitting at the bar)
Vagner: And...Action!
Hisky: "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, can I help you with anything?"
Angela: "I've been a bad girl. And I need a big strong mommy to put me in my place...On the path to redemption!"
Hisky: Ugh! "Well, you come..."
Angela: "Oh yes!"
Hisky: (boredly) "To the right place!"
Vagner: Cut! Okay, Angela, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Hisky, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?
Hisky: (Angrily) I ain't no actress, I can't memorize this shit!
Angela: Well, we could improve this shit, baby cakes! (Purrs seductively and Hisky push her out of the counter) Ahh!
Hisky: Whoops. (Drink a bottle)
Vagner: Hisky, come on!
(Meanwhile, Charles is bored)
Eve: So I was playing this gig, and for some fucking reason this virtue boy was digging on the drummer, and it's like, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Eve. I'm the original pussy! All pussies descend from me. You think you like a drummer pussy? No way, I'm the Pussy-fucking master! (Eats sloppily) So anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?
Charles: Wait, your name is Eve? Like the first woman? That means you...Ohhh...(Enlightened) That explains so much.
Eve: I know. I fucking rock.
Charles: Well, Eve, ma'am. Mrs. Eve, ma'am.
Eve: Call me Pussymaster.
Charles: Eve, you seem like a smart...well, stand up girl.
Eve: (With the finger in her teeth) Uh-huh.
Charles: And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a bigger revolutionary, a...A genius!
Eve: I maen, your words, babe.
Charles: Who would really her name on something.
Eve: Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!
Charles: It's a solution to our biggest problem!
Eve: Oh, herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.
Charles: No! Our other biggest problem.
Eve: Oh, uh...Ugly people? (Looks at the camera) Math? Global warming? Nah, wait that's Earth's problem. Umm...
(At the hotel, a bug walks in the floor and a needle tries to stab it saverel times)
Niffter: Hehehe. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Vagner: Alright Niffter. Niffter? Niffter! (Stops him) Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms". Okay?
Niffter: Got it. I'm ready.
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) Action!
(Niffter looks at the camera with his pupil constricted and Angela and Vagner look at him confused and he keeps staring weirdly)
Vagner: Uhh...Cut. (Turns off the camera)
(Niffter smiles again)
Niffter: (Giggles) How was that?
Vagner: Well, Niffter, you actually have to say the line. So let's roll again.
Niffter: Okay!
Vagner: Action. (Turns on the camera)
(Niffter stares deeply at the camera)
Angela: You're doing great, Vagina!
Vagner: Cut! Alright, um, maybe wr can try to fix it in the post.
Angela: Do you even know what that means?
Vagner: (Angrily) I'll figure it out!
(In the lobby, Vagner is watching the video with the camera connected to the tv)
Hisky: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.
(Vagner groans, covers his eyes and Alice appears in his side)
Alice: Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm?
Vagner: Ugh, esta pendeja...Why are you even here?
Alice: For the entertainment! I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly. Like you are doing now! Good job!
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) And here is Alice, the egocentric piece of shit that...
(Alice gets static on the camera and it starts to spark and Vagner screams and knocks the camera down)
Alice: I wouldn't try that, my darling. (Sinisterly) This face was made for radio.
Vagner: (Gets angry) That's it! I don't care who or what you are! If you are staying here you are going to make this work! Beause it won't be so "entertaining" to watch an empty hotel will it, shit ass?! (Turns around and walks away)
Alice: Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.
Vagner: Pft! You think I'm that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.
Alice: Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again. Or...Charles can come back to absolutely nothing! Your choice.
Vagner: (Sighs) Fine. (Gets the video camera and raises in Alice's hand and green ghosted skulls fly around it)
Alice: Now then! (Makes the camera disappear and snaps her fingers)
(Angela, Hisky and Niffter, a lot of filming materials and a ghost recording team appear in the lobby and everyone gets tailor clothes)
Vagner: Alright, everyone! Let's make a fucking commercial.
(Meanwhile)
Eve:...When you take him out for the fifth time and he still expects you to pay the check, but you're like, (In deep voice) "Hey I thought you wanted equality"!
Charles: (Frustrated) No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!
Eve: (Normal) Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We got that covered! Luther, how many demons did you kill this year?
Luther: Got a good 275 this year, ma'am.
Eve: 275? Whoa, badass! Awesome job, danger dick! Pound it. (Punch fists with Luther)
Charles: Uh, no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that, right?
Eve: Ohhh, yeah...That must suck for you. Pft...Hahahaha! Charles: But these are souls. Human souls, just the same as the ones you have in Heaven.
Luther: They're not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation.
Charles: You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.
Luther: Angels don't make mistakes.
Charles: You really think that?
Luther: I know that.
Eve: Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fucking life.
Luther: The only reason you're still here is because Mommy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
(Charles shrinks back)
Eve: Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it...
Charles: Oh! Fuck!...(Get up from the chair) Okay. I've a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't really hearing before, so here goes. (Clears throat) (Singing) I know Hell's population is out of control. It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll. If we rehabe these sinners and cleanse all their souls at my Hazbin Hotel! (Normal) Wait I'm getting ahead of myself! Right! Extermination! (Singing) I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year. And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here. If they join you in Heaven that trip disappears! You can wave that chore farewell! (Deep breath) It'll be a happy day in...
Eve: (Singing) Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time!
Charles: (Normal) Okay?
Eve: If what you're suggesting is letting them climb! Up the ladder. Oh they rather cross the Pearly Gates? Sorry, sweetie, but there's no defying in their fates! 'Cause Hell is forever wheter you like it or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot! 'Cause the rules are black and white there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again!
Charles: Okay, but...
Eve: Just try to chillax, babe, you're wasting your breath!
Charles: (Nervously) Hehe...
Eve: Did I hear you imply that they deserve death? Are they winners? Are they sinners? 'Cause it's cut and dry!
Charles: Actually, if you take a look...
Eve: Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! And when all's said and done! (Said and done) There's the question of fun! (Fun) And for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment! (Imitates guitar) Guitar solo, fuck yeah! (Imitates guitar) Hell is forever whether you like or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot!
Charles: Where all these people come from?
Eve: 'Cause the rules are black and white, there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again! (materializes a guitar and play it) Fucking Hell is forever and it's meant to suck a lot! So give up your dumb endeavor 'cause you don't have a shot!
(Charles groans, his paper gets on fire and his hair moves in the air and horns appear in his head)
Eve: Long as I've got your attention, I guess In should probably mention that we made a determination (Shows a contract) To move up the next extermination!
Charles: What?!
Eve: Can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts! (Holds Charles' wrist) I know is just been a week, but we'll be back in six months! (Spins Charles out of the room and plays her guitar)
Charles: Um, wait, didn't you...(Goes at the door, but it closes) Awh, shit! (Punches the door)
(Charles returns sad to the Hazbin Hotel)
Vagner: Charles! (Hugs him) How did it go? Did they listen?
Charles: Oh, uh...They sure did...hear it! But, um...
Vagner: Oh! Come here. We have something exciting to show you! (Holds Charles to the living room) Alice pulled some strings, and it's about to air.
Alice: I pulled a few limbs too! Hahaha!
Charles: Wait? The commercial? You all made a new one?
Angela: Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do can say so myself.
Charles: That's...That's amazing.
Angela: Shh! It's starting!
Vagner: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hot...
(The TV changes to the 666 News channel and everyone complains)
Kallie: (On TV) Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before! Do you know what that means, Tomita?
Tomita: No. What does that means, Kallie?
Kallie: It means we are all royally fucked!
(The clock in an hourglass changes to 176 with everyone screaming)
Angela: Wait...What? Why?!
(A drone laser scans a headless body of an angel laying in Hell and Eve and Luther see then from the ship)
Luther: We found the body, ma'am. They've never managed to kill one of us before. We should just go down there now and destroy them!
Eve: No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left to pull a stunt like this again. (Breaks the projector and her eyes and mouth glow in the dark)
(The end credits start playing)

My stepmother hates the fact that I exist.
I want to start by saying that I was born before my father and stepmother got together, however they did start their relationship whilst my father and mother were still together who later broke up after around 12 months of me being born. I have never known my parents together, it’s just how it’s always been.
I used to visit my dad once a week, and my stepmother would never really address me or talk to me, and that’s just how it was until she nearly died in childbirth with my youngest sister when I was age 14 (she had two children with my dad). We became closer and I was extremely grateful because I had always wondered why we never gained a relationship over the years. At age 17, 10 years ago, there was a disagreement between me and my dad, stepmum, aunty and nan which resulted in me basically being shunned from the family, and it was over something extremely small and didn’t need to be blown up in the way that it was. Over the first 2 years of limited contact, I was bullied via social media by stepmum, nan and aunty; this included making jokes about my mental health, contacting my friends to try and turn them against me, contacting my mothers side of the family to tell them how much they hated me and them, the list goes on. It went as far as to keep a family illness from me, which unfortunately resulted in what I thought was a sudden death and I was threatened out of going to the funeral - I was called an extreme expletive for asking, beginning with the letter C and something was said in regards to hurting me in some way or another. This was all done without the knowledge of my father, he remained in no contact through sheer stubbornness. Fast forward perhaps 3 years, my dad is back in contact but is caught texting me by said stepmother - she insists he chooses between me and her and there is an attempt at serious assault (her against my dad) with a glass, you do the math. He moves out for a week or so and goes back to her. We text on and off for years, discussing meeting up one day and eventually, 9.5 years after the initial shunning, we meet up. This is met with more anger, I believe she even demolished her own kitchen in rage over the thought of her husband meeting his first child.
Something that should perhaps be mentioned about now, is that my youngest sister has no recollection of who I am as she was only two years old at the time of the original falling out, she is now 13. My dad has informed my sister of my existence at this point, wanting us to eventually meet. The oldest of my sisters is now 20 and we have plans to meet, she’s an adult and can do as she pleases although I sense an element of fear of her mother and that’s why there has been a delay.
This fiasco has ended in the break up of their marriage, all because I exist. Things she has said that my dad has informed me of: - “you only want to see her because she is a piece of your ex”, - “don’t let her see her sister, she will do something evil like poison her to get back at me”, - (I am at university) “I guess I’ll have to go to university so that I am interesting like her (me)”
I want to end this with saying that I am extremely distressed to hear that my existence is causing such upset and aggravation in a household where my sisters reside. I have missed them for years and have always dreamed of the day where I could see them again. At what point do you stop feeling guilty for just existing, living and breathing?
edit there is a lot that is missed out here, small things that would maybe make things sound even worse but 10 years of shit is a lot to rake up and I’m sure there are also things that I have forgotten, this is just a short heads and tails.

Hi! I have been a lurker on this sub for a while & am constantly reading the posts both here and in PubTips . I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing and would greatly appreciate some feedback on my current work in progress (I'm currently between two). It has been workshopped and edited, but I think there is still room for improvement.
I would love to hear what readers both liked and did not like about it. Thank you in advance for your feedback :)
Chapter One
Two things needed to happen very quickly if Alexis Bradshaw wanted to stay alive:
First, her boyfriend, William, had to be willing to forgive her long enough to meet up and talk. Second, her drug dealer, Malcom, had to agree to lend her his gun so that she could put a bullet in William’s head before he could put one in hers.
Which, of course (if Alexis was doing the math correctly, which she most certainly was) was almost completely 100% impossible (99.998% if she was being specific). Because William had never once been the forgiving type, hence why Alexis had cheated on him. And Malcom, forever paranoid, never let the gun out of his sight.
Which meant she was dead. So dead, in fact, that it was almost worth walking to Easton Cemetery and reserving her plot right now. A small piece of land underneath a willow tree towards the back. Far enough away that people wouldn’t care to vandalise it, but in a pretty enough location that people would still enjoy visiting.
Not that anyone would visit. The one person who might have was the same one ready to ensure she never saw another morning.
She couldn’t date normal boys. She just had to choose the psychotic, lunatic ones.
Maybe her and her mother did have something in common.
She glanced at her phone, her heart sinking lower. William had found out about her and Christian — or had it been Christopher? — exactly twenty minuets ago. Meaning, if he had left his house the moment he’d found out, he would be at her door in exactly ten minuets. Five if he was driving fast, which Alexis would bet her life he was.
What was it about anger that made men drive so erratically? Perhaps she would be able to ask God himself soon enough. Her phone buzzed and Malcom’s name appeared on the caller ID. She answered instantly.
“Oh thank God. Hey, how quickly can you get to my house?”

Hey there,
You have hereby entered my post so feel free to read it and if any of this sounds good to you feel free to message me (I am sure if you are an interesting person we will get along well, yay).
To get the most painful thing out of the way, if you hate math or physics, that'd be a big bummer, because they are my two main passions and I don't think I would get along with you if you did not like them, I apologize :(.
So anyways a bit of information about me: As you have probably read from the title, I am a 17 year old guy from the GMT +1 timezone which means if it is midnight for you, its maybe not midnight for me, i dont know, anyways.
I have a lot of interests so I am sure some of yours will be covered by mine and I would love to hear about your interests and what you do in life, because learning about other people is f u n.
My interests include but are not limited to (sounds like an ad slogan, which i mean, this sort of is):
-Physics, Maths, I like both of them -Poetry, I write poems - Reading, I read a bit - Philosophy, metaphysics in particular - Guitar, I like guitar - History, I like history - Movies, series, romance in particular for movies, for my favorite movies you will have to message me - Filmography and music in general are really exciting subjects, if you know anything about that give me info - Learning about other peoples interests - Journalism (I like to do deep dives into various topics)
What I am not particularly interested in is food, I just eat. Thats it, really. I dont know why I mentioned that but whatever its there now.
For all of the people out there that like to know what music I always listen to:

• The Beatles, I love them
• Nirvana, I love them, not everything from them, but I love them

For Nirvana and The Beatles I also really love their history - Queen, because of course - RHCP, they just make good music I guess
My favorite songs are - A day in the life - Bohemian Rhapsody - The man who sold the world (Not the Nirvana cover but the original David Bowie song, you need to listen to it, its wonderful. Dot.)
Also if you can it would be nice for you to write a little bit about why you messaged me, what your interests are or something becuase I find it suprisingly difficult to respond to something such as "hey" or something similar that isnt really a conversation starter or introduction. That would be nice, yay :D
If any of that sparked your interested and you read all that stuff, feel free to message me, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Hey there,
You have hereby entered my post so feel free to read it and if any of this sounds good to you feel free to message me (I am sure if you are an interesting person we will get along well, yay).
To get the most painful thing out of the way, if you hate math or physics, that'd be a big bummer, because they are my two main passions and I don't think I would get along with you if you did not like them, I apologize :(.
So anyways a bit of information about me: As you have probably read from the title, I am a 17 year old guy from the GMT +1 timezone which means if it is midnight for you, its maybe not midnight for me, i dont know, anyways.
I have a lot of interests so I am sure some of yours will be covered by mine and I would love to hear about your interests and what you do in life, because learning about other people is f u n.
My interests include but are not limited to (sounds like an ad slogan, which i mean, this sort of is):

• Physics, Maths, I like both of them
• Poetry, I write poems
• Reading, I read a bit
• Philosophy, metaphysics in particular
• Guitar, I like guitar
• History, I like history
• Movies, series, romance in particular for movies, for my favorite movies you will have to message me
• Filmography and music in general are really exciting subjects, if you know anything about that give me info
• Learning about other peoples interests
• Journalism (I like to do deep dives into various topics)

What I am not particularly interested in is food, I just eat. Thats it, really. I dont know why I mentioned that but whatever its there now.
For all of the people out there that like to know what music I always listen to:

• The Beatles, I love them
• Nirvana, I love them, not everything from them, but I love them

For Nirvana and The Beatles I also really love their history

• Queen, because of course
• RHCP, they just make good music I guess

My favorite songs are

• A day in the life
• Bohemian Rhapsody
• The man who sold the world (Not the Nirvana cover but the original David Bowie song, you need to listen to it, its wonderful. Dot.)

Also if you can it would be nice for you to write a little bit about why you messaged me, what your interests are or something becuase I find it suprisingly difficult to respond to something such as "hey" or something similar that isnt really a conversation starter or introduction. That would be nice, yay :D
If any of that sparked your interested and you read all that stuff, feel free to message me, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Disclaimer: This is another one of my epic novels. Consider yourself warned.
Rule #1: Don't tell anyone at work. Rule #2: Don't write about work.
Somehow the boss and I got onto the topic of protein the other day... one thing lead to another... and before I could stop my lips, they spilled the tea. I at least managed to leave the MJ part out. Admittedly, it felt a bit like lying to the priest in the confessional (wouldn't be the first time that's happened)... except, this was on Zoom and we could see each other's faces.
Fortunately, I've lost enough weight now that the revelation was met with a raised eyebrow and a "WOW!" rather than the more typical.. "Really? Again? Until when? Lunchtime?". He's seen this rodeo before - more than a few times - so I really couldn't have blamed him if that would've been his response.
So far, he's been right EVERY. TIME.
And then he asked what my goal weight was. I should've known better.
"What? No! That's too much. You're such a big girl!"
Yes... Yes I am... but recent discoveries would indicate otherwise. (see my post EVERYDAY IS AN ADVENTURE for more information)
My goal weight is... ambitious.
While I would be the first to admit that my goal weight seems rather far fetched, based on my current weight. I didn't just pull it out of thin air. It was important to me that I set a goal that was anchored to something tangible - even if it seemed ambitious.
So, just before I started MJ in January 2024, I had a DEXA scan done. If you're not familiar with what a DEXA scan is, in the most simplest of terms, it's essentially a low radiation x-ray that scans your entire body and will calculate your body composition. You're provided with a report that will outline for you how much bone you have, how much lean mass you have (meaning muscle, connective tissue, organs, etc.), and how much fat you have. It takes it even one step further and provide a reasonable estimate of how much subaqueous fat you have (the annoying but tolerable fat) versus the amount of visceral fat you have (the evil fat twin you'd gladly give up for adoption).
So, knowing what my CURRENT lean body mass is under this fluffy quilt I walk around in, I could use that information to figure out what my "ideal" weight should be. How did I do that? Well, LEAN BODY MASS + 24% BODY FAT. Why 24%? Well, based on what I could estimate from guidelines online, 24% seemed to fit the mid-range of what would be considered 'healthy' for a woman of my age and height. So with a little basic math, I came to a number that is now my goal weight.
And yes, I'm perfectly prepared to settle on a much higher weight if, somewhere along this journey I discover a point where I'm actually comfortable in my own skin <-- Ha! Ha! That would be a first!
Plus, thanks to this subreddit, there is at least one person out there that started at a similar weight to me, same height as me, and is maintaining her weight within a range I had calculate. And she has the pictures to prove it! So, there is evidence that my end game is not entirely a made up fantasy. Thankfully, Cautious-Freedom-199 has been very open in sharing her personal journey, and it is her willingness and courage to share this part of herself that has made it possible for me to even imagine the possibilities.
So why am I having to defend myself?
Well, it's human nature.... and I have to keep reminding myself of that. Everyone will always have an opinion about something. We all do it. But what is important, is to recognize the intent. The intention, in this case, was not to harm me or ill will. Clearly, he has a point of reference, that he can relate to. And the number I stated, didn't align with his point of reference. And that's okay.
But still... suddenly I found myself having to justify my goal weight to him. A number, I'm not even convinced myself is based in reality. While I'm cautiously optimistic about the future, there's still a big part of me that has seated herself on the sidelines with her giant bowl of popcorn and strawberry twizzlers, keeping herself entertained with all of the replays of past colossal failures, while she waits, with eager anticipation, for the latest feature failure to premier.
My saving grace is that I'm a little bit of a nerd. I research the most mundane random curiosities, just for entertainment purposes - and also to help inform myself. Health, nutrition, weight loss all happen to be some of the mundane random curiosities I've obsessed over - for MANY YEARS. All in an effort to try and understand where all these little f*** fat cells came from, why they picked MY BODY of all places, and why every other cell in my body knows to DIE - skin cells die... brain cells die... muscle cells die... but for some reason, these fat little f*** fat cells convinced God to grant them eternal life. And with my luck, these little f*** will end up following me into the afterlife and I'll be fat there too - for eternity. My point is, when I find myself in situations like this, talking to someone who knows less about the topic at hand than I do... my super power is to literally bury them with information. More than they ever would want to know. And I don't stop, until they BEG me to.
Credibility is King!
If you're going to put any part of yourself out there, it pays to arm yourself with a few fun facts and have some tangible evidence to back up your rationalization, AND present in a way that is relatable to the personal your talking to. Nothing lends more credibility to what you're saying than sounding like the leading authority. In other words, it's hard to argue with someone who knows their shit. So when I explained how I came up with my goal weight, whether he agreed with it or not, it didn't matter. He could see that there was a methodology behind it, it was based on facts, and presented in a way that allowed him to understand there was strong logical evidence to support that number.
While this won't work in every situation - some people are just an ignorant stick in the mud - and you can't fix stupid, so don't waste your time even trying. Usually, if your audience is of reasonable intelligence and reasonably open-minded, and capable of having a respectful and rational discussion, then you at least have a fighting chance that they'll recognize that whatever your perspective is, has merit and isn't just complete bullshit. They may still chose to disagree - and that's okay. It's not your job to convince anyone that you're right and they're wrong. And so long as everyone agrees to respectfully disagree and leave it at that - there's nothing wrong with it.
Only time will tell....
He could actually be right.
I certainly don't know if I'm right.
And it doesn't matter.
But there are boundaries.
I did leave a key detail out of my discussion with him. Mounjaro. That was not by accident. And that's because I know there is a public perception of GLP-1 medications that is very misguided and misinformed and it is not a mountain I'm prepared to die on anytime soon. I don't know if he's even heard of these medications. It's quite possible he knows nothing about them. But it doesn't matter. This is a small detail I choose to keep close to my chest. Maybe, once I've reached my goal weight, I'll be more open about it. But no sooner than that, and it may well remain something that is on a 'need to know basis only' and most people won't ever need to know.
One thing I know for sure, and has proven itself time and time again, is that someone who has never had a significant weight problem their entire life CANNOT possibly relate to someone who has. They cannot process the distinction. They equate their struggles to lose 10-20-30 lbs to be the same as someone trying to lose 100-200-300 lbs. It's NOT the same. It's a different war on a different battle field with different rules. And I've learned that it's a losing battle to try and convince anyone just how different it is.
There was a podcast I recently watched on YouTube on PeterAttiaMD 's channel talking with Layne Norton. Layne explains why two people - one who has been lean their whole life - the other, fat their whole life - can both try to lose 20lbs and how the deck is stacked against the fat person vs. the lean person. I don't recall the specifics off hand and don't want misquote - but if this is of interest then maybe hunt through those interviews. If I can find it - I'll post it in the comments. But it was definitely an Aha! moment for me when he explained it. Sometimes, you hear someone explain the science and you suddenly feel vindicated.
So how did my conversation end with the boss?
Well, it ended with him asking me how many calories he should be eating per day, how much protein he should have, and then me calculating out his TDEE, caloric target, and macro ratios so that he can start on his own weight loss journey tomorrow. 😉
THE END.
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Hello, 31M. Graduated about 5 years ago with a Mathematics Degree. Looking for some advice/guidance or to hear from someone with a similar experience.
Worked logistics on a Navy base for 1 summer, was offered a 5 year contract that I turned down due to location (West coast, I'm from MN).
Haven't had any success breaking into any type of industry. I have been somewhat restrictive in my search due to location, I do not want to move away from my family.
I believe I have much to offer. I have strong communication skills, excellent problem solving, I'm efficient and competent, very quick to learn, and highly proficient with technology. Ideally, I'd be looking for something remote, that challenges me to grow and develop new skills, that is also fulfilling and productive, with decent pay and includes benefits.
However, I have no professional experience in a specific field to build on and am having troubles breaching into anything. I've applied to many analyst, logistics, project management, even administrative assistant roles with no success.
I have been looking into data analysis or data science. Unfortunately, my BS did not have any meaningful coding taught or required and I was mislead by the department head that companies like Microsoft will hire Math majors on the spot and "teach you what you need to know." It was not until 2 weeks before graduating tha my advisor told me "If you weren't planning on continuing in Academia, you definitely needed to get a minor in Comp Sci."
Because of this I am not eager to invest more money in a Masters or second Bachelor's degree or any type of bootcamp or coursework. I'm very resourceful and am willing to self-learn a couple of programming languages or other potential technical skills that will give my resume more weight. I just want to be sure that I'm being aimed in the right direction before investing more time and energy.
I'm happy to answer more questions on specifics I may have missed. I guess I'm just looking for some input from people in different fields that may be adjacent to my skillset, or from people who have been in similar positions. Thank you in advance!

This all happened last summer shortly after my paternal grandmother died, and I’ve just managed to get everything in order for the judgement of internet strangers. I did my best to provide context were I could.
TL;DR: We found out we have a half sister after our grandmother died and after we were done dealing with a variety of family issues. The Half-sister contacted us against the wishes of our dad and late grandmother. Due to a variety of reasons, we made the family decision to have nothing to do with her.
So for context:
My dad emigrated from Mexico to California with his family to look for work. He and my mom were childhood sweethearts but they were not together when he left Mexico for California. This is confirmed by my parents and my uncles.
While in California, my dad met this woman and they messed around a little bit. He says it wasn’t that serious of a relationship. He was young, got drunk often and she was young and pretty. I believe my dad was in his early twenties as was this girl if my math is right. This girl was also a known flirt and slept around a lot. Naturally, she gets pregnant and claims its my dad’s. He doesn’t believe her despite her insisting its his baby so he dips.
(Based on the info from my dad, and what my sister could gather, my dad was the only one with a stable job so we think she was trying to baby trap him. I’m not trying to make excuses, my dad isnt perfect but he’s honest and loves my mom).
My dad’s family, especially his sister, did NOT like this lady at all due to the aforementioned sleeping around so she helps him get to texas. My mom had just emigrated as well and my dad wanted to be with my mom. So he leaves this girl. Baby Momma threatened with child support, or that she would abort the baby if he left which pissed my dad off. When you’re mexican and catholic, threatening an abortion is a no no. So he leaves her, meets back up with my mom, married her, and I come along. We hear nothing of them for a while and its not like the lady couldnt track him down.
Flashforward to a few years. My mom gets a call from BM’s brother where he yells at her and my dad calling him a piece of shit for leaving BM and the baby. My dad ended up taking the phone and said again, the baby isnt his, and that he wants nothing to do with them and to never contact his family again. My mom was then aware of the other girl and she was mad, but again, they weren’t together and my dad was young drunk and stupid. So they push it down, ignore it, move on and forget.
Then my grandmother died. She knew about the other girl and she believes that it is my dad’s. My grandma would travel between our house and my uncles in california where she would meet with the other girl. Everyone on my dad’s side does think she’s his daughter.
Added context that is important.
For my mom, and only my mom, my dad stopped drinking and was sober for almost 23 years. However, in 2020, being surrounded by other alcoholics and being away for days for a job, he started drinking again. My dad helps build houses and would sometimes go all the way to oklahoma Or lousiana for a job. No he didn’t cheat. His coworkers actually teased him because he called my mom so often just to talk to her. I need y’all to understand that my dad loves my mom. He would move mountains for her. He’s not a perfect person, but he was a good dad and husband. Never hit us. Never raised his voice. We destroyed his model car collection that included some expensive pieces as kids. He didn’t ell he saw we were happy and tried to hide the survivors better. He gave my mom everything.
When she found out, they fought so badly it tore them apart. My dad is also stubborn to a fault and believed he could manage it. In the end, it got bad wnough my mom let me. Have a go at him because he was not listening or doing anything. He was also stressed as my sister was in bootcamp and I was getting married. So i think drinking was just easier for him.
I tore into him that day. I cornered him and confronted him for refusing help even though we offered. I told him how much it was hurting mom and when he refused to listen, I threatened to kick him out of my wedding if he didn’t do something about his drinking. He finally did especially after we think all their bad energy attracted an evil entity. I can elaborate if asked but its not relevant. Quit cold turkey again and he and my mom talked about how they would move forward. They began going to church a lot more often, all is good. My dad is doing better emotionally and is trying to make up with my mom. We have a conversation with my mom about being more patien and communicating more.
In all of this, my mom was dealing with liver issues and the stress of all of this was not helping.
Back to the story.
My grandmother died in march of 2023. I meet my cousins through video chat bc they were in Mexico. They video the service and funeral most of which we paid for. My dad bought a beautiful coffin for her, paid for roses and the gravestone. We paid for mariachi because my grandma always wanted mariachi for her funeral. We mourn, we move on.
My halfsister contacts my dad first to try and talk to him. My dad tells her again to leave us be that we want nothing to do with her. My dad’s number is public because thats how he gets jobs. So thats how she contacted him.
So she contacts us.
No one told us about her. She knew about us because my grandma would tell her about us. But we didn’t know about her. Everyone left it up to my dad to lake that decision and he never did.
My sister and I are both contacted by this girl through facebook. The profile is new and I’d almost gotten scammed once so we’re suspicious. We play along, ask for ID, video, proof. Everything. She provides it all. BC we thought she was a scammer, we weren’t exactly nice. So we’re thinking there might be some truth. We call my dad, he denies it. Call my mom, he denies it. I have my sister call him for me again because she’s better about getting things out of him. I call an uncle that Half Sister says knows about her.
Finally, they tell us everything that y’all just read. My sister and I are reeling, but we don’t tell the other three siblings. My mom is upset wanting to know why this girl is bothering us and that she doesn’t want her bothering us. She and my dad fight and my sister and I head to them (we’d moved out). We talk to our siblings separately.
My sister and I decide we don’t want anything to do with her. She is a stranger to us, and our parents are in a good place right now. They deserve peace. Not to mention, she went against the wishes of our grandma and my mom was still dealing with her liver issues. They could not. Handle another big issue right now.
So we gather everyone. Tell my parents that my sister and I want to tell our siblings together as a family and make a decision as a family. We preemptively talked to our siblings and agreed we wanted nothing to do with her.
I would rather not get into too many details. My mom spiraled. We both have anxiety but only one of us (me) sought a therapist. She was convinced my dad would leave her and that we would hate her or turn against her. (She is not a narcissist. She has anxiety shes finally learning to manage it). I removed my mom and brought her outside to breathe while my sister talked with my dad. Both me and my dad struggle to voice what we want to say and so it was becoming a bad cycle with my mom not being fair to him. My sister helps my dad word what he wants to say. But my sister and I get a handle on the situation. When we planned this, we knew we wanted to make sure mom was good. Dad already made his opinion in the matter clear. We just also knew our mom.
My dad reaffirms that he loves my mom, and us and doesn’t want to leave her. He also tells us that its our decision if we want to talk to this girl. My siblings and us all agree that we don’t want anything to do with her. We spend some time talking, winding down, go to ihop and head home.
Where I feel bad for her:
She wanted to meet us and get to know us. My parents had five of us and we are all very close while she was an only child. So I understand where she's coming from and I have a lot of sympathy from her. She knew parts of our extended family and whatever my grandmother told her about us. You see videos online of adoptees or people who were seperated from their parents who want to reconnect with their families and they are hailed for it. Even a scroll through the comment section people praise them for the attempt and villify the family if they reject them. And I understand why she wants to meet us. We're her siblings, but I can't bring myself to.
My parents just got done dealing with my dad's relapse into drinking. My mom had forgiven him and were trying to move past it. My mom could not handle any more stress due to her liver (or maybe it was her kidneys. The doctors said she needed to watch out for her blood pressure). My sister and I knew that this would be an issue and we did our best to deal with it and act as family counselors. My parents aren't perfect, but they're good parents and raised us well and I know they love each other. They recently had a proper wedding ceremony after twenty six years. Our siblings and I are starting to finally give back to them (taking them out to eat, giving them nice gifts, replacing the model cars we destroyed years ago). We would do just about anything to make them happy.
In my eyes, our half sister (if she is blood related) went against my grandmother's wishes and only contacted us AFTER my grandmother had been dead for a few months. And then, after my dad told her not to bother us, she contacted my sister and I. I loved my grandmother. We were devastated when she died so right as we're starting to recover from that, we get with this and it pissed me off.
I understand she wants to get to know us, but I don't want anything to do with her and my siblings (even after talking with them) agreed. We don't know her. We are happy where we are right now and don't want anything that is going to ruin that. She is a stranger that is going to upend the peace that we finally have. And now, a year later, she is all but forgotten to us because to us, she really isn't anything. And its not like she's not doing well for herself. She's works as a nurse and is living her life.
So Reddit, am I the asshole (or are we the assholes) for wanting nothing to do with our half-sister who we never met and didn't know existed?