"International Relations: A Zootopia Fanfic" Chapter 2
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Chapter 2: Stir Crazy
I spent the following days staying as busy as possible. The more I had to do, I reasoned, the less idle time I'd have to stress about the upcoming meeting. Whether I was browsing the web, going for long jogs at the park, or fixing up my apartment, I was perpetually occupied.
The biggest cleaning project in my little apartment was the bedroom. Books were stacked haphazardly on the shelves and neglected laundry could be found hidden under the unmade bed and slung across every piece of dusty furniture. Bottles of various sodas and beers stood in a sea of empty snack bags and candy wrappers. Prescription bottles for anxiety and depression littered the computer desk next to imported video game cases. To call it a "mess" would be a profound understatement.
It wasn't the only room in need of attention, either. Much of the apartment begged for maintenance, but I never seemed to have the energy or desire to do anything about it. I'd been stuck in a very dark period of life, feeling sluggish and tired almost all the time. I would break down crying for reasons that I didn't always understand. Anything I could do to keep myself from thinking about life was a relief.
The video games from the other continents were fascinating to me, and I would find myself lost in the fastasy worlds contained in them day after day. To escape from the tedium of everyday life was hugely appealing to me, and soon I spent more time playing games than I did in the real world.
That was when the pain in my fingers started. It was a dull ache that gradually grew into a pain strong enough to keep me from holding the controller anymore. Suddenly my coping mechanism was gone. But worse than that, the pain extended into everyday life. Suddenly pouring water from a pitcher was a two hand job. Squeezing a shampoo bottle shot pain up the tendons in my forearm.
Life just seemed like one painful experience after the other.
Maybe that was why I couldn't keep my mind off of Nicholas. He was the first real hope I had felt in years, and that, mixed with anxiety, kept me moving.
A sudden vibration from the phone in my pocket made me jump as I pulled a jacket off the top of the closet door. I brought the phone up to my ear while gingerly hopping over a pile of clutter.
"Hello?"
"Hey there, pipsqueak," came my sister Amanda's voice, loaded with her usual pep.
"Oh, you know how I love that nickname," I said with a hint of disgust.
"That's why I keep using it. Anything to make you smile," she said with a slightly sinister laugh.
"How considerate! I wish I could do the same for you," I said while pulling up a music video on the computer. "Oh wait, I know just the thing!"
"You better not be doing what I think you're doing," she said warningly.
"Doing what? Playing your favorite song over the phone?"
"You better not," she said as I brought the phone up to the computer speaker and pressed play. It was a severely overplayed song from the local rock group Route 70, and I knew that Amanda despised it.
"Eric! Come on!" I could hear her yelling over the music. After a few seconds I put the phone to my ear again.
"How can you hear the music if you're shouting the whole time? Here, I'll start it over for you," I said.
"No, no! Truce! I can't take it again," she said melodramatically.
"Well, all right. Deal."
"Good. Every recording of that song should be burned. So anyway, other than traumatising your sister, what are you up to today?"
"Trying to clean the warzone that is my apartment. Feels like I'm making more of a mess than I had to begin with."
"You? Cleaning? Never thought I'd hear that. What gives?"
"You know..." I said, searching for a convincing excuse. "It's just time for it. My place has needed attention for a while."
There was a short pause and I knew the gears in Amanda's head were turning.
"I don't buy it. You despise cleaning. What compelled you to break the lazy streak?"
"Why do you have to be so insightful?" I sighed, covering my eyes with my free hand.
"I'm studying psychology, remember? That basically gives me mind-reading powers," she said, before making a series of spooky sound effects. "Now what's going on?"
Reluctantly, I summarized the events of the last few days. She listened silently, and there were several times I had to ask if she was still on the line. I found myself pacing nervously as I explained about the video chat with Nicholas, and by the time I finished I could feel my heart beating in my chest.
"Wow," she said with a note of understanding in her voice. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It really is."
"Do Mom and Dad know?"
"Of course not. You know their stance on dating other species. Remember that dingo coworker that was flirting with me when I used to sell cars with Dad?"
"Yeah, I remember," she said grimly.
"So not a word about this to them, alright? I have enough stress to deal with right now."
"Alright. My lips are zipped," she said. "But you know... they'll find out if you and Nicholas get serious."
I groaned as I flung myself onto the bed. She was right. My parents visited frequently to check on me and bring food, so if Nicholas ended up visiting they'd run into him eventually. And if I were to fly to North America I'd need a very good cover up as to why I was going.
"I guess I'll cross that awful bridge when I come to it."
"Well, I hope this works out for you, Eric. I really do. It's been tough to see you so depressed these last few years."
"Thanks, sis."
"I'm going to let you go. I need to change out this load of laundry. Don't work too hard, okay?"
"Yeah. I think getting these thoughts out helped. I might just grab a beer and watch a movie."
"That's the brother I know and love," she said with a laugh.
The drop in stress was noticable as we said goodbye. Just knowing that I had people on my side was a huge comfort. People like Calvin and Amanda would be there even if things went badly.
I popped the top off of a cold bottle of beer as I looked at the calendar. Tomorrow was the big day. Tomorrow! It had crept up so fast!
"Shit," I said, feeling a spike in anxiety. "I may need more than one beer."
After selecting my favorite movie and pulling several more bottles from the fridge, I sat down to try and enjoy the night the best I could. The drinks helped, and before I knew it the what-ifs and worst case scenarios that had plagued my thoughts the last few days faded away.
"Eric," came an unfamiliar voice.
"Huh... Wha?" I opened my eyes, realizing I was still sitting on the couch with the TV on. I sat up and leaned forward into my hands, rubbing my eyes. I must have fallen asleep, but how long had I been out? I looked to the right to see what time it was. For some reason, I couldn't understand what the clock said. Some of the numbers on the display didn't seem to be real numbers, but nonsensical squiggles.
"You were out for an hour," came a voice from my left.
Startled, I jumped to my feet, tripping over the coffee table and landing squarely on my back. It didn't hurt at all.
"Haha! That was priceless," came the voice again. Standing up from the couch, a fox peered over at me, a look of deep amusement on his face.
"Who-" is all I got out before the fox came over the table and layed on top of me, a big, toothy grin across his face. I blushed as I realized he was leaning in for a kiss.
"Don't you dare," came a voice from across the room. I turned my head in alarm to see my dad, standing next to my mom, both of their faces deeply disapproving, and even a bit angry. "No son of mine is going to date an animal."
This didn't make any sense. How had this fox gotten into my apartment? Why was he acting so sexually toward me? Why were my parents here?
"I'm over here, Eric," said the fox as he gently turned my head back toward him, bringing his muzzle to my lips in a kiss.
I was stunned, making no attempt to kiss him back, terrified what my parents would do if I returned the affection. But I wanted to desperately. So I layed there awkwardly, helpless to break away.
"That's enough!" My father fumed as he stomped toward us, a look of fury in his eyes. He seemed to be growing taller and the lights grew dimmer with every step he took, and I was quickly overcome with fear as the room fell into total darkness.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting up in my bed, drenched in a cold sweat. Disoriented, it took me a moment to realize it had been a dream.
"Son of a bitch," I snapped while punching the bed. "I'm not even getting laid in my dreams!"
I rolled my eyes and looked down at the erection in my pajama pants. "False alarm, penis. Go back to bed," I said as I fell back onto the pillow with a huff.