[Center][h2]Dakota Rhett[/h2]
[sub]November 29th - Late Afternoon[/sub]
[hr]
[/Center]

It'd been a bit of a struggle to get through the rest of his day. A mix of back and forth messaging over Micki's request for money and Dakota channeling his annoyance by simply blowing most of it off by saying he had classes. Which he surprisingly focused on, perhaps his frustration fueling in a positive way, or he was just being spiteful towards the situation bubbling around him. Most of the time he'd enjoy eyes on him, but today had just been a bunch of people with their own demands or expectations. None of which he asked for, functioning better without other folks opinions. Not that they particularly cared, or maybe caring was the problem. His mind was racing, words bouncing around in his skull regarding other people's judgement. If he had the energy to sulk, he might've, but instead all he could do was hold his head, feeling a sharp and burning pain that seemed to thump away in his forehead. 

If he could've been left to just that, it'd of maybe been fine. Instead, his phone began to ring again. He pulled it out, and sighed deeply at the familiar number. They'd bickered enough, he thought, but it seemed she wanted to get vocal about this whole business. His options were to ignore it, which would only make it bite him harder in the ass later, or answer it and deal with it now. Figuring he was out of classes for the day, getting it over with was probably the best call. So with a bit of reluctance and a swipe of his thumb, he answered. "[i]What[/i]?"

He winced at the voice that came from the other side. "Don't you start with an attitude, when I'm the one having to deal with your friends!" His mother, while a secure and generally decent person, had a medium tolerance of his previous band work at best, figuring he'd turn out to be something akin to a guitar-strumming hobo. "Why's Micki asking me for money?"

"I guess he's in a bad financial spot?" Dakota responded plainly, wincing as a response quickly boomed from the other side of the phone. "Cause of that band, right? And who put 'em up to the idea?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dakota grew defensive. "I didn't tell him to do that, he called me after he called you." He corrected, adding: "But... Yeah. The band is having a few problems."

"Well they're not any problems of [i]mine,[/i] or your [i]father's.[/i]" The woman was very clear, Dakota feeling himself almost physically shrinking from the tone she had. "He said to let you follow your dreams, and now look: Everything fell apart, and now you have nothing to fall back on! And to add onto it, these 'band buddies' of yours are trying to squeeze money out of us."

"Ma!" Dakota yelled. "You've known Mick since he was a kid, he was just askin' for help! He wouldn't try to take anything from us, he's an honest guy!"

"An honest guy that'll end up out of any sort of work soon," She replied, a hint of spite in her tone, explaining where Dakota himself got it from. "And unlike you, he won't have much of an opportunity to bounce back." A moment of silence began between the two, Dakota spending a moment standing there and thinking about the fact he was able to get into uni at all was a blessing, but... He was throwing it away, or at least ignoring it on occasion. And he swallowed as he was confronted about it. "And how have you been treating that second chance?"

"-- I-I've been trying to get a state job..." He muttered, slightly anxious at the confrontation. "Classes have been going... Okay."

"Okay?" He could feel the tiredness in her voice. "You have to focus on this, or else you'll be in a terrible situation. We gave you what we could, but after university, you have to figure out what you're going to do for yourself."

Dakota's heated pain in his forehead felt like it became replaced by a chill. A realization of his situation hitting him. "I'm gonna be on my own." He commented aloud, staring blankly forward. He could still hear her voice echoing as he attempted to process what he'd do for himself, the situation she was laying out being quite clear to him. If he didn't take this more seriously, he'd be in a terrible position. But would he be happy either way?

"Me and your father worked hard to make sure you had a secure life. You took your chance to run a life the way you wanted, now you have to do what we did and settle into something, even if it isn't particularly what you really wanted. A state job would be more than enough to support yourself, hon. It's a smart decision, but you have to work hard towards it or you'll end up worse than when you started. We're both tired, and ready to retire. You have to go out and live your own life, we've given you a push. You have to fly."

Dakota wasn't sure what to say. He stammered, trying to find his words, which took him a moment. "Even if I'm not happy?" He asked, tone growing more meek.

"Life's not about being happy all the time," She said in a factual tone. "You have to find your place in society and implant yourself for your survival. If you can't grasp that, you'll be worse off than I could've thought." Not giving him a chance to respond, she continued: "Now, [i]focus[/i]. Life won't always be happy, especially with work. You need to accept it, and sort yourself while you have the chance. Pry yourself away from those barely skimming bandmates you had and become successful, so you can provide for your loved ones when you reach that part of your life."

Dakota tried to speak up, but his voice was utterly silenced again by a simple "Goodbye", leaving him with nothing but the beep of his phone that'd signify his call ended. What the [i]fuck[/i] had just happened? Dakota felt confused, scared, and angry all at the same time. Where one might feel directed by the words he'd received, Dakota felt utterly weighed down and almost pinned. This metaphorical weight began cracking the ground beneath him, unsure of what to do with himself at all. There was a point he thought life could be joyful, and he tried to give that joy to people, but today he'd been kicked down and given one of his best friends a rejection for assistance which went against what he thought was right. What the hell was wrong with him? Was his idea of a good life really that absurd?

His phone slipped from his sweaty hands, gaze following it as he tried to quickly reach for it. Unfortunately, it smacked against the ground, though that wasn't the worst part. Rather, the ground cracking and sending a fissure under his legs, and down the path behind him. Picking up his phone in a panicked manner, he looked back with wide eyes uncertain of what the hell he was witnessing. "[sub][i]The hell?[/i][/sub]" He spoke quietly to himself, in disbelief that his little phone caused that much damage. The fissure reminded him of those cracks from the bathroom, and the cafeteria. Maybe it was him feeling distressed and empty, but he felt prompted to follow after it to see where exactly it went and how far it'd take for it to stop. 

It seemed like anyone he passed took no notice of the extending fissure, even those directly in it's path stood there idly causing Dakota to brush them aside as he continued to run, getting a few irritated responses that he didn't care about right now. He began to slow as he reached the pier, noticing not only his trailed fissure, but a second one as well. Panting, he had to progress slowly down the pier towards the gazebo to find the resting place of the fissure he was following, it's spread into an assortment of connected splits in the flooring arriving before he himself did. Breaths loud, he scanned the ground and it's damage with utter confusion, before scanning the gazebo and seeing a rather stocky man resting on a bench. Figuring he was no different from other people since he was just relaxing despite the gazebo having a bunch of cracks in the floor, Dakota did what any modern youth would do in this situation.

He pulled out his phone and tried to get some pictures, or record the weird sight. Kneeling down his free hand drifted the cracks, feeling more heat with their increased presence than before. But... This heat was strange. Comforting, in a way, but made no sense given the location. After a moment, his kneeling turned to simply sitting on the floor of the gazebo, partially embracing the heat while also trying to get more footage of this weird sight. His fingers trailing and picking at the cracks in the floor out of curiosity of what exactly the source of the warmth could be.