⚠️ Content Warnings ⤴
Info
Content Warnings
- Language
- Implied and alluded to sexual content
- Themes of toxic codependency and trauma
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As Spec and Alexis were in the process of thoroughly cementing their feelings of disdain, they caught sight of an abandoned motel-like structure in their path. The two quickly threw their fickle arguments aside, deciding to rest for the "night." Full buildings were a rarity in 201, and it might be literal years until they reached another one.
The two sit in the hallway separating their rooms— each lost in their own worlds of boredom and spite. Alexis is sprawled out on a plastic chair, fiddling with his phone. Spec is scribbling aimlessly in his notebook. The absence of a proper Wi-Fi signal within the bedrooms of the retro structure was apparent, forcing the two into each other's company for the time being.
January 4th
It's been just over 12 hours since I've fallen here. Despite that, it's felt like months have passed. The local atomic clock on my watch displays June 26th— which feels about correct. I fucking HATE this place. Anyway, I'm going to elect to trust January 4th. Why? I know the contacts are directly linked to Backrooms Robotics' internal database clock, and so far Wi-Fi has been decently reliable at receiving a signal.
I'm no stranger to time dilation after a few years here, but GOD do I hope that Alexis is bad at math. He and I did some reading from the G.P.D. page, and from what I gathered about this levels effects, it seems like the next few months are going to be primarily composed of me yoinking this idiot out of sedation. YIPPEEEEE!!! I don't think this can get more annoying.
Spec looks up at the ceiling, tapping his pencil against the papers of his notebook, as if the fidgeting would somehow give him more writing inspiration. The soft ambience of Level 201 fills the air with a sense of calming nostalgia, putting him in a headspace he didn't find himself in very often— peace.
He sighs. Despite the tranquility, the overwhelming boredom was eating away at his very existence. Spec looks up at Alexis, who is still mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Spec couldn't blame him— this environment certainly did encourage lethargy.
"I can't take this any longer. I just can't. If I'm actually going to be dragging his sorry ass back to Level 11, I can't do it in silence. Years of spite over this will be exhausting. I mean, I'm petty, but HOLY SHIT. I give."
Spec closes his notebook and slips it into his backpack. It was getting late— despite him technically not needing sleep anymore, he still got tired. Just another double-edged sword of Backrooms chaos.
"Alexis?"
Looking up from his phone, Alexis raises an eyebrow.
"What? Do you want something?"
"No, I—" Spec pauses. He had completely forgotten everything he was about to say.
"How did you get here? Like, to the Backrooms…"
Alexis shuts off his phone, sitting upright in his chair. His body language had shifted— and Spec noticed. He seemed less… shut off. Maybe he was also getting tired of the unfounded resentment.
"Why do you want to know? Aren't you just going to take off after this?"
Spec huffs. The assumptions were still pissing him off.
"Maybe I should have a reason not to. I mean, I'm going to be totally real here… I don't really have a lot of friends anymore. Not after I came here. For lack of a better way of putting it, I want to know your story. If we're going to be stuck here, I'll completely lose it if the entire time is spent hating. That's like… Fleetwood Mac levels of petty. The least you and I could do is talk."
Alexis smirks. "We're certainly not on enough drugs to be Fleetwood Mac. Lower your standards, Spec. Pick someone more reasonable… like Aerosmith."
"Seems like your taste in music is almost as bad as mine… well, bad compared to the rest of our generation. Suppose I can add that to the ever-growing list of your negative traits…" Spec replies, rolling his eyes.
Alexis tilts his head to the side, ignoring Spec's second comment. "What do you mean 'the rest of our generation?' Aerosmith was like… all the radio was playing last year."
Spec makes a swiping motion with his hand, trying to cut Alexis off. "Alexis, Alexis. What year do you think it is?"
"1977?"
Spec gives him a dead-eyed stare.
"1978…?"
"Alexis, it's like… 2025 out there. Hell, it was 2023 when I first fell in here…" Spec's voice trails off.
"No no, that's not right— I've only been here for a few months, at LEAST. You can't be serious…"
"Don't you just love the Backrooms?" Spec says with an annoyed sigh. "Hey, could be worse. I've got a friend, Leo Castellos— that guy is only like… ten years older than me, and he's been here since the Roman empire."
"WHAT?! Nah, you've GOT to be trying to fake me out. For real?"
Spec sighs. "I try not to think about it too much. All of this timey-whimey b.s. makes my head hurt. I wouldn't have guessed you clipped in the '70s though… you talk very… modern. I don't know how to put it. Plus, you're on your phone even more than I am."
Alexis shrugs. "I just pick up on things fast, I guess. Perks of having literally nothing else to do, and an infinite amount of time. That's why I'm on that thing so much— there's a lot to catch up on, yknow."
Spec flicks his eyes to the side, staring out into the infinite desert.
"I could help catch you up. We're going to have a shit ton of time to kill on our way to the city."
Alexis stands up, cracking his neck to one side, and placing his hand on the doorknob to his room.
"We'll save that for tomorrow. I'm spent for now— I don't know how long it'll be until we get to another abandoned building, let alone an intact one."
Spec shrugs, standing up and opening the door to his own room.
"Fair enough then. But I'm not doing this for free— you owe me conversation on ALL the shit you did when you were back on Earth." He replies with a small smile. "See you in… I don't know, let's say 10 hours?"
Alexis sets his watch. "Fine by me. Sorry for being such a tool earlier… I cooled down a while ago, but at that point I was already too far 'in' to back out…"
Spec facepalms. "Dude. Who are you, me? Go to bed, Alexis. See you in the A.M."
Alexis smirks back at him. "There's no day/night cycle, moron. It's always the A.M."
"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!" Spec yells back with a groan, as the two enter their opposing rooms to get some much needed rest.