How the fuck have you gotten yourself in this mess? It’s a question that runs through his mind a dozen times as he trots forward, a handle in one hand and a crumpled piece of paper in the other. It takes him a moment and a quiet sigh before he finally rests the oversized suitcase that he’s dramatically packed aside so that he can use both hands to unfold the sheet of paper before him. Scanning his eyes over the unfamiliar address, Jamison’s brows furrow in the middle of his forehead as he mouths it out into the cool, brisk air.

Where the fuck is this place that you’re going? Why the fuck did you sign up for this? Jamison can feel his other self seething, writhing in anger over his impulse decision in signing up to be a part of a reality show. Jason wonders how he’d even wind up in this sort of situation in the first place but Jamison can’t answer the question, so he keeps his lips pressed against one another to the point where they make a thin, white line. A woman walking by gives him a glare, and Jamison feels like a complete outsider – something he’s constantly felt since childhood. When he gives her a nod and loosens his lips so that they may curl at the corners instead, she cannot help but smile back in his direction because it’s the polite thing to do. He’s about to reach in and ask her a question, something in relation to the address written on the piece of paper before him, but she takes this moment as a cue to scurry out of there – finding him strange and not wanting to bother to mess with him any longer.

So? What’s the plan, genius? Jason scoffs in a mocking tone, and Jamison pictures another version of himself giving him a dirty look to match. It’s in the tone of voice, even though Jamison’s lips never part so that he can speak. Still, the voice inside his head is loud enough to drive him crazy. Times like these, Jamison finds himself fighting for control over his own body and he wonders just what the hell he’s done to make the universe hate him so much. “Look, it’s gonna be fine,” he mutters with slight annoyance, hating how Jason always second guessed and questioned himself. He was his own worst critic, after all.

How is it that you’re always getting us in the dumbest shit, Jamison? It’s a question that seems to be asked every time Jason decides to come around. Once a month, Jamison does his best to search for the best excuse that will get Jason to get off his back but some months are easier than others. He can already tell that Jason is in an unrelenting mood this time around and opts to be honest with him just to minimalize the drama and argument that usually follows suit – especially since he’s out in broad daylight and there are pools of people that pass him by with faces full of curiosity. The last thing he needs is to move to a new place where everyone thinks he’s crazy because he’s talking to himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think this will be so bad. And if it is, we can always leave,” shifting his gaze down, Jamison squints once more at the address printed on the piece of paper rolled out in his hands. “I think a new start would be great for us,” he chimes brightly as he continues down the path that leads him to the house he’ll be sharing these next few weeks with complete strangers.