oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.
oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.
oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.
which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.
but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.
which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.
and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!
and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.
the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!
and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -
what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.
and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.
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i made this silly little post and then just did the thing myself :)
“I would say that Steve is… relatively smart. For a human.”
“Hey!” comes an irritated yell from the other room.
Robin turns to face the doorway, turning away from the camera. “Zip it, human! I’m doing my interviews. I have important things to say. People are very interested.” She turns back toward the camera again, a smile plastered to her face. “Now, what was I saying? Oh right, Steve. He’s… passably intelligent. I mean, he’s no Einstein, that’s for sure. That guy could party.” She laughs.
“Okay, and how long has Steve, uh, been with you guys?” Dustin asks from behind the camera.
“Um, maybe a year, I think?”
“I’ve been Eddie’s familiar for ten years,” Steve grumbles as he comes into the room with a cup of tea, which he holds out for Robin to take. He turns to Dustin and the camera. “It’s really just a matter of time before he turns me.” He rocks back on his heels. “He said literally any day now.”
Robin smiles placidly, nodding at him until he leaves the room.
“Between you and me,” she stage whispers to Dustin, “Eddie is never turning him.”
“Could you explain what a familiar is?” Dustin asks.
“Well… usually a familiar takes care of you, you know, does the cleaning, shopping, finds you victims.”
“Victims?” Will, another one of the producers, asks. He looks a little anxiously toward Lucas, the camera guy, who does his best to ignore it.
“Yeah, like. Food. You know.” Robin takes a sip from her teacup, waving her free hand in some vague gesture. “Nancy and I are partial to virgins.”
“Uh, right. Better watch out, Dustin,” Lucas laughs a little nervously, nudging Dustin with his elbow.
Dustin scowls, but before he can respond, Robin says, “Don’t worry. Nancy’s forbidden us from eating any of you.” She smiles again, like that’s supposed to make them feel any better.
~*~
“Okay, Steve, can you tell us a little bit about yourself?” Dustin asks Steve, who’s fidgeting on the couch.
Steve pulls at his collar as he answers. “Uh, sure. I used to be a kindergarten teacher. I actually really loved it? But then I met Eddie at a bar. Thought he was, uh, pulling my leg, you know, about the whole…” Steve rubs his palms on his thighs. “Vampire thing? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Yeah, being a vampire. Sure,” Dustin responds.
“Right. Thought he was joking. Thought it was a line, you know. So I… this is kind of embarrassing.” Steve scratches at his cheek. “Well, I went home with him, y’know. You’ve seen him.” He laughs a little nervously. “Anyway, I found out that he actually was not lying, much to my… absolute horror really.”
“And… what made you stay?” Will asks.
“I dunno,” Steve shrugs his shoulders, eyes darting to the side of the camera, like he doesn’t really want to answer the question. “It’s an interesting prospect, isn’t it? Living forever? Being immortal?” He shrugs again.
“So,” Dustin starts, drawing out the ‘o’ sound. “Are you guys, like… more than friends?” Lucas visibly cringes at the phrasing.
Steve laughs, bright and surprised. “Uh, no. No. Just, uh. I’m just his familiar.”
“But you’ve been here ten years?“ The way the question comes out of Will’s mouth makes it sound like he hadn’t really meant to ask it. Dustin cuts him a look, scowling again.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs, looking down at his lap. “Yeah, I have.”
~*~
“Tell us about how you became a vampire,” Dustin says.
Eddie, who’s sitting on the couch in front of the camera, scratches at his neck, just under the collar of his shirt. “Hmm. I was turned in the 80s. Can’t really remember most of it. Was at some concert and some guy offered me some coke or something in the back of his van. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a field feeling like shit. Thought I’d had a bad trip.” Eddie laughs.
“And have you ever turned anyone?” Will asks.
“No,” Eddie tells them, frowning slightly. “Don’t think I’d even know how.”
“But—“ Will starts, but Lucas digs his elbow into his ribs, cutting off his question.
“What about Steve?” Dustin asks instead.
“What about him?”
“He said he’s been with you ten years. That you’ve promised to turn him any day now.”
Eddie smiles, boyish and sweet. “Well. I say a lot of things. And look at him. Who’d give that up?”
Will and Dustin look at each other. “What do you mean?” It’s Lucas who asks this time.
“A pretty little human who does anything I say based on the abstract promise that I might one day make him a vampire?” Eddie grins.
Next to Dustin, Will lets out a long exhale.
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