Chapter Text
The smell of old wood and mould pressed like a wall against Jed’s face as he opened the old apartment building door. The late night hours brought a little semblance of peace to the neighbourhood where life never seemed to give a break. The annoying infant’s voice still echoed through the hallways, no different or calmer than when he had first left for his shift that afternoon. It wasn’t his business much past the annoyance of hearing it when he ascended the stairwell.
Distance drowned out the wails and neighbourly noise replaced it. TVs, arguments, and loud music were the heartbeat of the building, one that Jed kept convincing himself he’d grow used to. Despite the sleepless nights, he felt safer in the chaos, knowing well people like these rarely have the time to care about anyone but themselves. It reminded him a lot of his childhood, instead the trailerpark was simply replaced with a singular building and all the crazies were compressed together to silence each other out.
Jed navigated the badly lit hallway to his apartment, two pairs of keys nervously jiggling in his dominant hand. In the yellowed light, the walls looked older than they should, the saturation of the white paint accented by the lazy glow. The upper wall was somewhat brighter, separated along the middle with a wainscoting style that most of these old builds were known for. A red carpet lined the floor beneath his boots, faded in colour from decades of soles spreading dirt. Lord knew when it had truly last been cleaned. It was a peculiar choice from an age gone by, but Jed could appreciate the lack of footsteps, unlike much of the noise in the rest of the building. He was keen to get home to unload and rest, but he first had to battle with the old wooden door. His hand rested on the knob and he pulled the door to himself, holding it snug against its frame as he inserted the key. No matter how often Jed revised his tactic of getting into his home, the key refused to budge the first two times he’d attempt to turn. Only releasing the door to pull it again allowed for a smooth, yet painfully loud, turn. Once, then twice. The hinges creaked with a push, but before Jed even had time to remove the key from the knob, he heard the music next door growing quiet.
He wasn’t fast enough and the door across opened before he could shut his.
“Johnson!” There was only a number on the door and the faded name of a long gone tenant, but it was hard to stay a stranger in a place like this. “Was looking for you earlier. Where have you been ‘till now?” Frank was, for lack of a better term, a nosy neighbour. Essentially, he lived alone, but he was the type to constantly bring and invite people over. The owner of the building didn’t care much as long as nothing was damaged, and all of Frank’s guests didn’t stay long; hookups and deals. It didn’t take much wandering to clock in on his main source of income. The thin boney face and dark circles, his often red and sniveling nose, and the twitch in his step when he tried standing still were all dead giveaways.
“What’s it to you?” Jed’s voice was tired and hoarse. He returned none of Frank’s restless energy. “Out for a drink after work.”
“Yeah, I’ve never even seen you sip on an energy drink.”
“Are you spying on me now?” Immediately Frank lifted up his hands, laughing at Jed’s sparking fuse.
“Just curious. Doesn’t hurt to ask.” He shrugged, stepping into the hallway. Jed kept his hand on his door. “You can pop by my place for a few beers.” Frank’s thumb gestured to his apartment over his shoulder. The metal music still played on behind him like an obnoxious theme song.
“I’ll pass.” Before another word left Frank’s mouth, the door slammed and two clicks echoed into the hallway. “Coked up faggot.”
Jed tossed his bag beneath the two hook coatrack that hung behind the door. He methodically discarded the rest of his outside inventory; his boots beside his bag, his jacket joined the old parka on the rack, his key and wallet had their place tossed on the narrow plastic table. The apartment was ridiculously small, but that made it cheap. The kitchen counter barely fit a cutting board between the sink and two burner stove, entirely taken up by the coffee machine and the cord of Jed’s phone charger. The two outlets in the kitchen were the only available he could rely on. The cabinets above were narrow and half full. Money was tight, but Jed didn’t care for plate sets and fancy mugs. He was happy with the simple yellow mug he had swiped from work and bitter coffee with just a dash of milk.
While the kettle rumbled to a boil Jed had time to set up for the evening. His computer sat by the window just across from a flimsy metal bed. Unlike everything else in the building it was a clean and well functioning machine, set up with a 30 inch monitor, a red switch keyboard, and a tower that was far out of budget with his current occupation. The lights lit up and Jed breathed easier. This was his safe space, the very thing he waited for all day. Time of day didn’t matter; when he sat before the screen he carried a coffee in hand. It was a ritual more sacred to him than the words of a saint.
In a few clicks, Jed set up for the night. Music played through his headphones at half the volume as he typed away on the silent keyboard.
It had only been four months since he had left Orlando to move to Greenville, but his login streak was slowly reaching a year. Every day, whether it be morning, noon, or the dead of night, he found the time to check in on his favorite people.
It wasn’t all that difficult to find the right communities that knew their way around computers. Jed fit right in with the worst of them. On their community forums they jokingly called them “cages”. Unsecured cameras were a hidden jewel of the Internet to which no other content could compare. For a simple donation, trusted members could earn access to a random compromised camera and gamble on what they were going to get. It was gacha for the freaks.
Jed’s luck had come around early on. The first few hadn’t been too memorable, but not boring either. It was when he had come to access an actual working laptop camera that things got interesting.
She had been sitting in a kitchen much bigger than his, chatting about a horror parody list. He had tuned in when they were at number seven out of ten. Her hair was platinum white, with pink tips that were already fading into a peach. By the second weekend he had known her, she had redyed them a vibrant purple.
Sable reminded him of a more polished version of the emo girls from MySpace. He first learned her name two nights after he’d first seen her, when he heard her mother calling out endearingly. While her room matched her personality, with walls of grey paint and dark blue wallpaper, complimented by repainted black furniture, the atmosphere of her family was much different. Her mother sounded soft spoken and polite. Jed had caught a glimpse of her hand on the corner of the screen once, poking out of a white sweater with a plain ring on her finger.
Whatever Sable used her laptop for wasn’t meant for her parents’ eyes. Countless times Jed would hear their voices and see the camera pan down, hiding the view of her parents whilst giving him ample view of her and her desk. Her style was nothing short of a Pinterest board and even in the comfort of her home Sable went the extra mile to put on something special. She was predictably unpredictable with her self-expression; for Jed it was like looking at a brand new toy every day. Stereotypes come from somewhere; what she had to hide on the screen was easy enough to piece together within a week’s time, and her style had every bit to do with it. Nobody wore black in such a way if they hadn’t had a reason to be an outcast.
Sable’s life revolved around the dark and macabre. She constantly fussed about her precious radio show, making lists and typing away story summaries on the laptop. Jed sometimes got to eavesdrop on her conversations, when she called Mikaela to organize a night out at the theatre with their friend Julian, or advise her on what she had been writing so far. There was even a moderately successful blog.
The show was easy to find after Sable had taken that same laptop to her attic when she went live. It was being hosted out of Greenville, with two local news articles shining some light on the “creative youth” of their town. Sable Ward had been just shy of 22 when her first installment aired with the help of her local community college.
For Jed this was all a lot like a game of mystery and puzzle, following bread crumbs down an unknown path. He’d gotten to know someone purely through a lens and he felt proud for it. He succeeded in piecing together enough of her life that he knew her as well as a friend, perhaps even better. He was able to cherry pick her niche as well as Mikaela. To say he was invested would be an understatement.
He had been excited when his hours in Orlando were cut. Money wasn’t much of a problem with that which he had in savings. It was enough to end his lease, pack up what little belongings he had and make the trip inland. Getting to Greenville was easy, but finding a place to stay and a job that worked with his schedule was the difficult part. The community was small and most sought hospitality or manual labour. His current job at the print shop didn’t pay much and the hours were short, but it was a sacrifice to have more time to learn the place.
The Moonstone cafe was just down the block from the shop, in the center of town, and it was frequented by most of the young demographic in Greenville, and Sable was among them. Jed’s afternoon shifts finished by seven, but the bakery across the street from the cafe was open for an extra two hours. A simple sandwich has been his dinner for these last several months. Eating it from the park, he could see the Moonstone and the regulars that went in and out. If Mikaela’s shift aligned, Sable would be the last customer to leave, driving Mikaela to her apartment on the other side of town. By the time Jed got to his own address, Sable would usually be settling into her room for the night.
The music from next door slipped past the badly insulated walls, playing over the track Sable had coming through her speakers which Jed had been trying to tune into. She typed away, lost in thought. It was calming to share his evening drink with her. Jed studied the subtle changes in her room; the pile of laundry on the chair by her bed and the potted Spatifilium she had rotated since he had last seen her. An overall messy room with charm.
He listened intently to her typing, watching the camera jitter from the speed. Must’ve been another segment for her show, but that was a mere guess he could make while only wishing he could actually see her screen. He heard the stories on air, yet craved to see the first drafts and workflow, to take a peek at the way her thoughts came forward.
Time ticked away and Jed was gripped by the very thought of something happening. The thrill was in all the little things; to hear a name, catch a new location, or even finding out where she had bought a shirt. Every detail fed that unfillable curiosity in his mind. Jed wanted to be able to rebuild her atom by atom.
His neck had begun growing stiff and the last few sips of coffee now rested cold at the bottom of his mug. A tension in his head made every creak and wail in the building louder. The music still drilled through his skull. Jed grit his teeth and stayed quiet, seething. The clock was nearing midnight and Sable was losing her speed. She browsed and her eyes scanned across the screen in lines, eyelids slowly drooping and lips spreading in yawns. Jed yawned as well.
The only thing keeping him awake was the flash game on a side window. Unlike his apartment, which stayed tidy without much clutter in sight, his computer was littered with everything from CPU draining tab collections to the torrents seeding in the background. World of Warcraft called to him and he agonized over the temptation.
Jed flinched in his chair as Sable’s hand brushed against her laptop and her microphone rustled, the plastic dragging on the table as she pushed it back. Her phone screen illuminated her face briefly and she brought it to her ear.
“Hey! … No you’re fine, what’s up?” She turned away in her chair and Jed held his breath during her pause, only hoping he could hear the other end. “I mean, how many would you need? … Oh yeah, that’s no problem. I can get them for you on Monday, I’ll pop into town.” A faint smile peeked from behind her white hair. “No, I think it’ll be just enough. There’s only two official notice boards in town if we’re not counting the one on campus. The theatre might let us put up like two more at least, and the rest we’ll figure out.” Her head bobbed with a nod as she listened to the other line.
“A3, got it. Just send me the file.”
The short phone call ended with simple ‘I love yous’ and a ‘good night’. Her tired eyes looked toward the screen and her hand moved to the corner and the feed froze before going dark.
Finally, things were moving forward. Jed stood from his desk and felt something gently pop in his back. He hurriedly scrambled to his bed, crouching down as he began to pull out the plastic boxes of his belongings. He pushed aside the labeled winter clothes and sheets, ducking lower to reach further back.
Any electronics Jed has ever owned he kept around if he could. If it was fixable it wasn’t really useless. The large plastic box was neatly sectioned inside by the preserved product packaging, each having their place and pair. He pulled up a bag of coiled cords and set it on his bed, before finally pulling out a box of a small WiFi adapter. All the necessary components were still inside and Jed felt himself actually smile, setting aside everything he knew he’d need. He dusted off the lid before putting it back on the box, sliding his storage neatly back into place.
The hinges on the reach-in closet creaked as Jed pulled the door, pushing around the hanging attire and reached beneath, grabbing a narrow black bag. He carried it to his desk, placing the bag on his chair and pulling out the laptop from inside. Pushing the screen open he pressed the boot button, setting up the charger and wireless mouse dongle.
Just as he was about to retake his seat, he was startled by the loud thudding against his door. He recognized the knocking and already grit his teeth in frustration as he made the stride over. The keys jiggled and he unlocked the door to a disgruntled face.
“I’m sorry, but do you know what time it is?” The old woman stood uncomfortably close, her arms pulling the night robe snug against her hunched frame.
“Mrs. Marshall, if you can’t hear that shitass music-” Jed’s finger pointed behind her. “...then you sure as hell can’t hear me walking.”
“You live right above my head.” Mrs. Marshall returned her finger pointed at Jed. “What else goes on your floor is none of my business, but you are! Who in their right mind goes around doing chores at this time of night?”
Every word that came out of shuddering jowls helped Jed’s blood pressure just climb higher and higher.
“Just getting out some things that I need.”
“Oh, and it just couldn’t wait until the morning?”
Jed’s lips pressed into a thin line and he felt an ache in his cheek the harder he ground his teeth.
“Goodnight. Mrs. Marshall.” He was short and his hand began pushing the door.
“Next time I’ll call the police!”
“And I’ll tell them you are trying to kill yourself.” Mrs. Marshall’s open mouth was the last thing Jed saw before he shut the door and swiftly locked it again.
The excitement of the night had worn off as quick as he had seen the old hag’s face. With spite he rolled his chair out and back in, retaking his seat at the desk. He unlocked the laptop then booted up his game. A distraction on one screen and work on the other, Jed drowned out the music next door that played into the early morning, though true silence would greet him by the time sunrise edged close. By then the tension in his head fogged every thought.
He’d long been kicked to the Warcraft lobby screen when he finally decided to shut down for the night. The silence that followed as the machines whirled to a stop felt like a layer of weight was shed off his body. His routine was quick; setting his mug into the sink and doing his business in the cramped white bathroom, then unplugging his phone from the charger. He took a moment to peel off a piece of a paper towel. Retrieving to the bed, he’d finally free himself from the confines of his worn jeans. His clothes he folded onto the chair, only really bothering to put on a shirt for when he slipped under the covers.
With phone in hand, he wasted another half hour beneath the sheets, tossing the paper towel and his phone onto the night stand before finally making an attempt to sleep. The rest he’d get would be short lived. Even if he always had a morning alarm set, just in case, it was the first batch of cars that passed on the road that would wake him. He’d toss to the other side and force his eyes closed whilst he listened to every caw, engine rumble, and squeak of bicycle tire. Mrs Marshall’s rackety dining room chair scraped the hardwood as she’d sat down for her morning coffee. The old man with ashtray glasses next door hacked up his flem in the bathroom for an agonizing minute, and the floorboards creaked as he waddled to his window.
Jed laid in bed, eyes tiredly following the footsteps squeaking on the floor above, waiting for the sky outside to turn from orange to blue. The bed creaked under him as his tall legs swung off the edge. He huffed and stood, automatically falling into the routine that by now should have burnt a path in the floor. With so few belongings, it was a quick tidy up between taking a leak and preparing himself another coffee.
Once again he returned to the computer, letting the light of the screen fully wake him out of morning grogginess. Even if he knew that Sable would likely sleep for a few hours longer than he, Jed still tried to open access to the camera, just in case. All else he really had was that same CCTV footage and it was as good of entertainment as any for now.
The mornings in the building quickly turned loud and chaotic on the weekends and Jed preferred to bury his head in whatever he could find for himself. Forums and nonsensical discussions, light browsing of the news, and an occasional glance at his cages made the hour pass by quickly and the mug drain quicker.
There were a few short hours left before Sable was going to likely be waking up and Jed had to make the most out of that free time. In his head he made a list of errands and followed through with the first.
He’d had every intention of contacting his boss. He didn’t know when on Monday Sable would decide to make her way to the print shop, but he knew that he desperately needed to be there when she did. Even if he’d work all day, he was willing. But unlocking his phone the plan quickly derailed and delayed.
The sight of the video from last night, paused on the redhead’s tearing eyes with a cock shoved down her throat. Just for good measure, he took a screenshot to file and hide away later. He pressed play and his hand slipped into his loose boxers with ease, grabbing onto his raising hardon while the woman shamelessly gagged for the camera. She blinked away the tears, sucking on the base and Jed closed his eyes just to hold that image in his mind, picturing a hand that held her head down longer than she could hold it. He wanted to hear her cough and choke at the base and only took peeks to watch her tears and bimbo tits bounce. Every snivel she made while she caught her breath had Jed’s stomach buzz.
Slowly, Sable’s face began to take her place. As long as the actress didn’t talk Jed pasted every sound she made to Sable and she fit perfectly in his imagination. Behind his eyes, the fantasy derailed from the filmed plot.
He remembered the one time Sable had turned her laptop on and was already in tears. Black mascara and blue eyeshadow mixed on her cheeks, eyes swollen red. Her black lipstick was already chapping, chipped away at an uneven line along the inside of her lip, and her nose rubbed red off foundation. His mind replayed the hiccups and shaky voice as she called for Mikaela on the phone. Oh, how he wished another guy would break her fragile heart again.
His hand worked without stopping and he felt himself losing steam, the muscle of his forearm growing tight and weak. He clung to the same image, only giving himself a second of time to pull his red tipped dick out of his boxers. The sobs and gags in his mind, mixed with the moaning coming from his phone, clutching it tightly between his fingers. He wished he could wrap his hands around her throat, squeeze until her lips turned blue, watching her pale in fear. A face like that should’ve been accessorized by blood, turned black and blue under his hands. Jed knew he could make her spill prettier tears, listen to her suffocate between his dick and her own snotty nose. She was small enough to be hung from a meat hook, no different than a lamb; cut, disembowelled, skinned.
A hoarse heave left Jed’s lips and he hunched on the chair. Sparse strips of cum splattered onto his shirt and his arm cramped softly. He took deep breaths, listening to the pounding of his heart slow down in his ears.