Sunday: 12/9/07
Who: Starbuck and Nate (with a bit of Frankie thrown in)
When: Sunday night
Where: Starbuck's apartment
What: Starbuck's hands are fucked up and he needs a doctor's help
As soon as Kim got offline, Starbuck sent an emergency text to Frankie, begging her to come over and look after Kamea for a while. He needed to get some fucking air and hit something before he lost it. He was shaking with worry. What if Kim dumped him? He quickly asked Lu about it, and in typical Lu fashion, she was supportive and encouraging, suggesting that everything would blow over and be just fine. But Starbuck had been in a position like this before, and everything wasn't fine... everything was totally and completely fucked.
He started having flash backs to one of his fights with Kat. Images raced through his mind of how within just a few hours after that fight, he had found her in bed with another guy. What if Starbuck had pissed off Kim bad enough that she did the same damn thing? He knew that Kim and Kat were nothing alike, or at least the rational part of his brain did, but his heart ached right now, and it was terrified of losing Kim for good... just like he'd lost Kat. How the hell could he make such a damn mess of his life? His parents fell in love, and that was it. They were happy together until Bardsley's death. Neither of them had loved anyone else before or after. Then there was Starbuck, the guy dumb enough to fall in love twice in one year, neither woman returning his affections. Kim didn't love him. How could she? Ed was right. Starbuck was a loser.
Finally, Frankie arrived. She immediately started asking Starbuck questions about what the hell was wrong with Kim, before she saw that Starbuck was equally upset. "What's going on?" she demanded. Starbuck didn't answer her. "Just... watch her... I have to get out of here." That was all he offered before rushing out the door. He didn't take his phone, his keys, not even his shoes. He just ran out of the apartment in his shorts and a t-shirt.
Starbuck went to the gym. He knew that violent outbursts weren't a solution to his problems, and they really didn't make him feel better even in the short term, but he needed to fucking get some of this shit out of his body. He was bubbling over. Not even bothering to wrap his hands or put on gloves, he began to wail on a punching bag. He hadn't changed at all. Even with a new woman, a completely different woman, he was still the same idiot... attacking an inanimate object because he was too upset to do anything else.
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When: Sunday night
Where: Starbuck's apartment
What: Starbuck's hands are fucked up and he needs a doctor's help
As soon as Kim got offline, Starbuck sent an emergency text to Frankie, begging her to come over and look after Kamea for a while. He needed to get some fucking air and hit something before he lost it. He was shaking with worry. What if Kim dumped him? He quickly asked Lu about it, and in typical Lu fashion, she was supportive and encouraging, suggesting that everything would blow over and be just fine. But Starbuck had been in a position like this before, and everything wasn't fine... everything was totally and completely fucked.
He started having flash backs to one of his fights with Kat. Images raced through his mind of how within just a few hours after that fight, he had found her in bed with another guy. What if Starbuck had pissed off Kim bad enough that she did the same damn thing? He knew that Kim and Kat were nothing alike, or at least the rational part of his brain did, but his heart ached right now, and it was terrified of losing Kim for good... just like he'd lost Kat. How the hell could he make such a damn mess of his life? His parents fell in love, and that was it. They were happy together until Bardsley's death. Neither of them had loved anyone else before or after. Then there was Starbuck, the guy dumb enough to fall in love twice in one year, neither woman returning his affections. Kim didn't love him. How could she? Ed was right. Starbuck was a loser.
Finally, Frankie arrived. She immediately started asking Starbuck questions about what the hell was wrong with Kim, before she saw that Starbuck was equally upset. "What's going on?" she demanded. Starbuck didn't answer her. "Just... watch her... I have to get out of here." That was all he offered before rushing out the door. He didn't take his phone, his keys, not even his shoes. He just ran out of the apartment in his shorts and a t-shirt.
Starbuck went to the gym. He knew that violent outbursts weren't a solution to his problems, and they really didn't make him feel better even in the short term, but he needed to fucking get some of this shit out of his body. He was bubbling over. Not even bothering to wrap his hands or put on gloves, he began to wail on a punching bag. He hadn't changed at all. Even with a new woman, a completely different woman, he was still the same idiot... attacking an inanimate object because he was too upset to do anything else.
( more )