2007-09-01: Freak Like Me


Caleb_icon.gif Erin_icon.gif

Summary: But which one is which! Caleb and Erin reveal their powers of squishing stuff and killing people to each other.

Date It Happened: September 1st, 2007

Freak Like Me

Uptown, NYC - Apt. 909 - Parkview Estates

The trip to Ohio was actually pretty uneventful. Fun, and she got to meet up with her little sister again, but now she's back in the city on a Monday night, and thinking about work the next day. More filming, hopefully more news about where the series is going, and the building of a new set for the next sweeps week. There's always something new when sweeps comes around, and November isn't that terribly far away.

The TV's on low, there's something in the microwave - popcorn, to be specific - since Erin intends to sit down and see what's On Demand, and hopefully doze off in the process. Long day tomorrow, after a long weekend, because they're going to have a whole day to catch up on. Luckily, with soaps, if you botch something tiny in a scene, there's no budget to refilm it. There's already a script sitting on the couch, too. She's got a few lines to memorise for tomorrow.

Though he was disinclined to go to Ohio with two out of three sisters, it doesn't seem to be out of an unwillingness to spend time with his family, as Caleb makes his way to Erin's door, glancing over the piece of paper her address is written down on. No sloth T-shirts in sight, although this once reads 'STAND BACK, I'M TRYING SCIENCE' in faded white letters against navy blue. Partially concealed due to the denim jacket pulled over and half buttoned, at least, and otherwise new-looking jeans and sneakers. He sort of automatically tries the door, and upon finding it naturally locked, he hesitates and then knocks. Not quite nervous, but a little anxious.

Erin looks at the clock on her microwave as she hears the knock, but… naturally, it's still counting down from five minutes. Rolling her eyes, she leaps off the counter where she'd been sitting - Mom would NEVER let them do that at home! - and heads for the door. It's not immediately opened, but she does look through the peep hole, only to find… "Caleb?"

It's New York City, so there are a few locks on the door, each of which is opened in turn until the door itself swings open. "Hey, what are you doing here?" is asked as she glances toward the shirt, a smirk appearing on her face. Someone? Is gonna need to teach the kid how to dress, for serious. "Was just making popcorn. You smell it all the way from home?" Erin would not be terribly surprised. Anyway, since he's here, she steps aside to let him in. No use sending him home now.

"Uh," is Caleb's initial answer, glancing back over his shoulder from where he came from, before stepping in once she's out of the way. "No, I'm not hungry." You know, in case she did believe that to be why he showed up. It will take some ushering, as Caleb lingers near the door, sparing a glance around the place a little curiously without actually moving further in. "Are you busy? Because I can come back later."

Erin will eventually reach out to grab his shoulder and drag him inside, so she can shut the door. She is a tad frustrated, but just a tad, because she'll have to stay up later to memorise those lines. It's kinda rude to do it while family's around, though she still plops down on the couch, opening the script, anyway. Meanwhile, the timer on the microwave goes off. "M'not busy. I just have a handful of lines tomorrow with Taine. It's almost not worth going in." But she will, like she does every day. "Seriously, I have to be there at 6am, and then I wait around all day for one scene." She rolls her eyes as if this is ridiculous and WAY INCONVENIENT. True, she'll be supervising set, too, which will take up much of her time, but Taine'll be doing nothing for the whole day. With her other hand, she grabs the remote. "Was gonna turn a movie on, too. Anything you wanna watch? Sleepless in Seattle's free this month, I think."

"6 am, huh? Hard knock life," Caleb says, with a slight smirk, finally moving to take a seat as well. The timer goes ignored, because hey, this ain't his home. Shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the arm of the couch he's located at, he glances towards the TV. "Whatever. I mean, your choice." Back to Erin. "Listen, I was gonna drive up and see grandma next weekend. I usually— you know, do that. But you should come with, or something."

"Yeah, it's a pain." Erin smiles, paging through the script 'til she finds the page she's looking for. Her lines are hilighted in green on that page and the next. It's not a whole lot; less than she thought, actually. Well, that means she might not have to stay up so late, after all! "Whatever?" Erin replies, arching her eyebrows as she scrolls through the available movies. Caleb's here. Caleb likes that sciency stuff, right? That in mind, she decides 'The Core' is an excellent movie, and once that's playing, she stands to go retrieve the popcorn. From the kitchen, she says, "I don't know, Cay. I think I might be working on a set next weekend." Not… really. It's just that she's not sure she really wants to go. "Besides, I'm still trying to work up the nerve to go make up with Janet. She's probably still mad about everything." Eventually, she returns with the popcorn. "So you've been going to see Gramma? What for?"

"Just to visit her," Caleb says, after a moment's hesitation. Hesitation because he's staring at the screen. Of all movies, of all movies— he reaches over to grab the remote and attempt to locate something different. "It's not like she's got a lot going on, she's an old lady." 'Sleepless in Seattle' gets the vote, it seems. Shrug. At least he can tune it out and not feel angry by what's going on on the screen. "You think you might?" he then repeats, leaning to try and see her in the kitchen. "Come on, Erin, even super soap stars get a break in their schedule." That doesn't come off as a plea for her to reconsider, it comes off as a flat kind of disdain.

Stolen remote! "Hey, I thought you'd like that," she says with a pout. Strike one for Caleb! Erin was only trying to do something nice. Setting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table, she grabs a handful and looks down at the script. 'I didn't know you wanted to,' is her first line. Take THAT as you will. Easy enough to memorise, though she'd like to go over it vocally a few times, which she can't do right now. Strike two? That tone he's using with her, which actually causes her eyes to narrow a little. She lets it slide, mostly, because he's right. "I work all week. I like to relax on the weekends. And you know grandma, she'd have us doing her laundry and fixing the rook and whatever else. Some of us don't get to play with animals at work." She's trying to make light of the situation, because as far as she knows, that's what Caleb does. After realising she's kind of reading the script while nothing's actually processing, she sets it aside. "Maybe next time, okay?"

Caleb squints at her, as if trying to gauge out whether she's being serious. Of course she is, it's Erin, she doesn't even know what a sloth is. "Playing with animals," Caleb repeats. "It's looking after animals, whether they're healthy or not. It's cleaning up their enclosures, it's a lot of work." It doesn't take much to hit that button - underappreciated is Caleb's self-titled middle name, so naturally his family would have no idea as to the work he puts into his career. He pauses, then reaches over to attempt to grab the script when she puts it down.

"Looking after, playing with. Same thing." Erin really was never much of an animal person. It's why it took so much for Ali to convince her to let them get cats, and also why Ali pretty much exclusively takes care of the little buggers. At least she keeps them clean.

Of note, Erin considers herself a mature person. She was pushed into growing up when she was still young. She knows how to act at parties, she knows which fork you start eating your dinner with, she's professional, if not a bit irritable. However, when it comes to family, she's suddenly five years old. When Caleb swipes the script? It's on. Launching herself off the couch, she means to tackle him. "Give. That. Back."

And Caleb grew up with Erin. He knows a tackle is coming. And so he does what he usually did. Curl up and spare an arm in fending off the attacks. Meanwhile, he rustles the pages, searching for the telltale highlighted lines, before finally squirming off the couch to stand, holding up the pages for her viewing pleasure. "This is it? This is all you gotta memorise?" he asks, arching one thick eyebrow. "Seriously, Erin. I respect that you have a job to do but it doesn't compare. I study and work in a highly competitive position, and I can still make time to see grandma."

He didn't just suggest that she doesn't work as hard as he does, did he? Missing the tackle, Erin stands helplessly, enraged, as he finds her lines. There's the faintest hint of a metallic shine in her eyes then - lasting through the point where he states that he still makes time. "I also build half the sets on show!" she exclaims, making another grab for the book and missing. She's going to kill him. She's going to hurt him. In fact, she's already reaching for the popcorn bowl so she can throw it at him when it occurs to her that she's seeing a blue fog around her eyes again. Bright, like someone's shining a light in her eyes, except she knows where it's coming from.

Standing, feeling the bottom drop from her stomach - no, she doesn't need to kill her brother today, thanks! She faces him and starts to push him toward the door. Of course, the contact will only make things worse, but she's still new at this whole 'nearly killing people' thing, and so she's not quite aware that this part works that way, too. "Out. Out, out, out. Go." Before something bad happens. Please? Meanwhile, she's feeling a distinct increase of the number of viruses, and it's not pleasant at ALL.

Woah what? Now she's shoving him out the door? A flicker of anger is visible in blue eyes, and he shoves the script into her hands with disgust. "What is wrong with you, Erin?" he says, letting himself be ushered out - but barely a few steps backwards, evading the pushing. "It's not like you still have to be an actress, but you choose to coast on whatever it is mom wanted you to do and act like it's a burden." That's when a headache starts to form, a sort of dizziness, but he pushes on with, "Try being the freak in the family for once and you'll know what hard work— " Woah what, indeed. Caleb reaches out to catch himself, a hand on a nearby piece of furniture when the dizziness just increases. Then the queasiness, face paling visibly. "Need to sit down," he says, then shuts his mouth, quickly.

Freak? Freak? The anger returns in full, WITH THE FORCE OF A THOUSAND WILD HORSES or something. Her eyes, even if there was just a silvery appearance to them before, are now glowing - bright, bright blue as she stares, gripping Caleb's shoulders a little roughly. The problem is, she wants to hurt him. It's always been a problem with her - the temper. Usually she can reign it in in public, but… but—

She didn't want to hurt him like this. As Caleb leans, she, too, is feeling the effects of this - whatever it is - the tiredness hitting her like a sack of bricks. Letting go of his shoulder, Erin puts her hands on her knees, then sort of melts to the floor, kneeling. Problem is, she's still pissed off! "I am, the freak," she snaps, holding herself up with one hand. God, he's gonna die, and she has no idea what to do about it. THINK. CONCENTRATE. Something! How did it go away last time?

Glowing eyes. Glowing eyes? Glowing eyes. That may just be a hallucination because Caleb just doesn't feel well at all, but he's pretty sure it isn't. When she goes down, he's not far behind, collapsing a little heavier but with some deliberateness. Standing just isn't very appealing right now, so. "Fine," he mumbles out, pressing a hand to his face as he tries to shake it off. "Fine, you're the freak. Oh, god, I need to lie down." Except he mostly is already. It just isn't helping much. He pauses talking, fighting back a second wave of nausea, because these look like nice carpets, before saying, "You're doing this?" Count on the weird one to come to the outlandish conclusion that just so happens to be correct.

Not a hallucination. In fact, it's so bright now that Erin can't even really see anything but shadows in front of her. Thankfully, the exhaustion is starting to burn the anger out, as she ever so sloooowly faceplants into her own carpet. Ugh. Seriously, what the hell good does an ability that knocks her out too do for her?! She can't even really use this to her advantage, first of all because she can't even make it happen without wanting to kill someone, apparently. Pushing herself up on her elbow, she eyes Caleb; he's coming back into focus, now— If she thinks about this—

Not angry. Really. You're hurting your brother, just stop.

Okay, calm. Calm. Deep breaths. The glow fades.

Caleb won't start feeling better right away, but Erin? She's going to lay down now, sigh in relief, and hope to god this reverses itself like it did last time. She doesn't respond to the question at first, except for a nod… Then a few seconds later, she adds quietly, "Accident."

When the dizziness begins to slowly lift, Caleb makes a quick assessment of the situation. Half-curled up on the floor, head resting on a bent arm, eyes squeezed shut. Swallowing dryly, he opens his eyes, just in time to see her nod her answer, hear her addition. The nausea is the first to leave, which is a blessing, and slowly, he stretches back out, rolling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. There's still cold sweat, and the headache is a rhythmic thud in the front of his brain, but it's not getting worse, which is the main thing.

Accident. She did it by accident. The most important thing is that she did it, however, and the last few exchanges of their brief argument drift back to recent memory. "Sorry," Caleb mutters, shutting his eyes again, wiping the back of his hand over his brow. "Just make it stop now."

Erin grits her teeth, fighting sleepyness now that it's over. "I would if I knew how," she snaps, and she's kind of not surprised that he's not freaking out about this. Like he said, he was always the freak in the family. He probably expected his sister to be some sort of alien. However, Erin's really doesn't have the energy to fuel her anger at the moment; instead, she concentrates on those viruses she can still feel, and unravels them one by one, then in greater volume. Now he'll start to feel better.

Erin herself doesn't feel sick, just completely exhausted. "I don't know what's happening to me," she mutters. "And I can't stop— What the hell are you apologising for?" What a dork, seriously. It actually makes her smile - just a little! - as she stretches out flat on her back, as well. She can hear Sleepless in Seattle playing close by.

Finally, it starts to leave for real this time, and Caleb lets out a shaky, relieved breath. "For getting mad," he explains, simply - even if it's rather clear that she got angrier quicker. That maybe he had a right to be. However, he pauses, then adds, "Kind of mostly just said it so you'd stop whatever the hell you were doing, though." Lying down is super, and though he doesn't feel the fatigue she's feeling, maybe when they're not standing up and squaring off, they could have a civil conversation. "Your eyes glowed," he adds, accusingly, turning his head to look at her. "It was awesome." That's stated like a fact, and maybe not one he's pleased with.

For a moment, she drifts off, then her eyes open again when Caleb speaks. So, so tired. God, that was a stupid thing to do. She's managed to keep actual temper in check on set, and she's worn sunglasses just in case, but with her brother? It just kind of entirely slipped her mind that she was dangerous. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too." Her arms feel like spaghetti, but she pushes herself up, anyway. Maybe it'll help her stay awake. "Awesome?" The smile returns, reaching her eyes even though her eyelids are drooping. Her breathing almost sounds like she's just run a few miles, though it's short, raspy breaths. "Tell you the truth, I thought… thought you'd…" Words, she has them. "Thought you'd be more — Weirded out." But. But. "Sorry, I know it's… Look, you can't tell mom and dad, or Janet, or — Especially Mikayla. She'll tell everyone." And that's about the limit of her ability to keep herself propped up. She crashes back to the carpet with a grunt.

Caleb pushes himself up to sit once she tells him not to tell anyone, nodding once. "No, I— I figured. I am weirded out. Just… on the inside." Now, he pushes himself up to stand, a little unsteadily, but the effects have worn down enough to just a little residual weakness. Even that is disappearing. He holds a hand out for her to take, studying her, as if trying to see if she's sick too, or just tired. "Thing is," he adds, voice a little quiet from sheer uncertainty, "you're still not the freak of the family."

Erin stares up at him, still flat on her back on the floor. She's in no mood to even try standing, because she'd probably just pass out again. In fact, she'll probably just sleep on the floor tonight. It's cool, her carpet's soft. She does sit up, though, leaning against the entertaiment center quite heavily, to a point where she'll eventually end up slowly falling back to the floor. For now, though, she braces herself against the stand, eyes narrowed. It takes her a second where she almost states the obvious - yeah, I know, you're weird, but… "You…?"

The hand is withdrawn, slipped into his pockets in a sort of defensive posture. "Yeah. But. Not the same," Caleb states. Not just weird, in other words. Jesus. How naive is this. Just because she accidentally let slip this sort of secret doesn't mean he's in a position to trust her with his. But he almost… feels excited. Even if she almost floored him with something because she was pissed off, and maybe could have killed him, her eyes glowed. And now he can tell her, because she'd understand… maybe. "Wait there. Or come with, whatever." He moves to the kitchen.

Oh, curiosity, how you suck. Erin would love to follow, and she even tries, but she gets as far as bracing her hands on the floor before she falls face-first into it with an ouch, then just stays there, staring at the carpet as she concentrates on keeping herself awake. In fact, when Caleb returns, he'll actually find that she's still lying there, though she's turned her head to the side by this point. Grunt. Drool. Yeah, she doesn't look much like a soap star at the moment, but at least Erin's able to keep herself conscious. If her brother's also weird, then it's entirely possible that their sisters might be, too. Or their parents.

Yeah this isn't exactly the big reveal he had in mind, is his thoughts as he tilts his head, looking down at her. Likely not the one she had in mind, either. Caleb has returned, holding a— a soup spoon. This, he pockets, before moving on in. Blame it on work at the zoo and the occasional heavy lifting that's required, of object and tranquilised animals alike, but without a warning, he scoops her up off the floor in a sort of uncaring but very secure hold, arms supporting her back and legs. It helps that she's 5'2" and he's a small fraction over 6'. "C'mon," he says, moving towards the couch to set her down, rolling his eyes a little. Sisters, seriously.

Erin … planned to tell them someday. Maybe. She almost let it slip to Mik, before she called the younger sister a moron - in so many words. No, it's probably best that, at least for now, Mikayla doesn't know. It makes her feel a little guilty, but with the way the girl talks… It's probably not a good idea, even if Erin does love her dearly. "Hey— " Erin manages as she's lifted, and she does give Caleb a Look, but she doesn't struggle as she's sat down on the couch. The soup spoon hasn't gone unnoticed, and she glances at it as she props herself up between the couch back and one arm. There, she should be able to remain comfortably seated at this point. Why is it so draining!? WHY. Why can she even do this at all? TO FIND OUT, TUNE IN NEXT WEEK— Okay, not so much. "You can do tricks with cookware?" she asks. Hey, she has to make fun.

The snide question makes him hesitate, turning the spoon in his fingers. What. What is he doing. The excitement flips between uncertainty then back to excitement then back to uncertainty once more, and in the end, he just does what comes natural. Caleb's hands close around the object, and it's as if the spoon were simply made out of paper. It buckles beneath fingers that seem to only work lightly, casually, until it's a twisted ball of metal, and he squeezes a little harder until it's as compact as it can get. Only then does he sneak a glance her way, and offers out the warped piece of cutlery for inspection. "See? You don't get to take my title just yet," he says… with… is that a smile? Kind of. Just a hint of one.

With some effort, Erin leans forward enough so that she can take what was once a cheap metal soup spoon. To be honest? She's a little mor efreaked out about this than Caleb was about her. It's weird how that works, isn't it? As the lump of metal sits in her hand, she stares at it, momentarily opening her mouth to say something, but all she accomplishes is a brief, aimless syllable. What the hell!? Feeling that fatigue in her muscles again, she settles back, attention turning toward her brother - no, she can't take the title just yet. In fact, she'd rather he hold onto it, because she's not supposed to be the weird one. The fact that he's like her… well, that makes her ecstatic, even if it doesn't really show, and to that end, her ultimate reply is "Holy shit."

"Yeah," Caleb agrees, now clasping his hands together awkwardly in his lap and glances at the TV. Meg Ryan is doing something uninteresting, as is the norm, so his attention goes back to his sister. Long pause. "For what it's worth, I think your power is cooler," he says, haltingly. Because you never know with Erin. "I mean. So's mine. But… it was intense, and your eyes glowed. Sorry about your spoon. Hey, popcorn." He reaches over to grab a handful of it. Okay, so, nervousness is taking over, because now what.

Y— yeah, her eyes glow. But she really hurts people, and she's not violent. Despite her temper, despite thinking about it, she doesn't know what she'd do if she actually accidentally killed someone with this. Short answer - she'd snap. "I've been using it to cure people. S'bout the only thing I actually have control over. That— what just happened— I don't know how to start it, I don't know how to stop it." Erin lifts the once-spoon and studies it. "This is pretty neat, you know. I'm guesing you can ruin more than just spoons." She tosses it at him underhanded in a position where he'd be able to catch it. Not bad for being so tired! "Cay. Hey." Stop it with the popcorn now! "C'mere, I need to hug you, but I can't move."

The popcorn is abandoned in favour of catching the twisted up soup spoon, Caleb rolling it on his roughened palm a little. "Well, you… figured out how to end it, there," he points out, because he has to point these things out, and he sets the once-spoon down onto the table. "I can ruin— I think most things. And curing people is also badass." Again, stated, and the word 'badass' sounds kind of forced coming from him, but there it is. After a moment's hesitation, Caleb scoots over, semi-tugging her into a hug. It's a good hug, though, because likely he learns it from sloths, and he even relaxes a little.

"Only because I was so tired." He thinks it's cool, Erin thinks she's a freak. He should hear what her roommate almost made her do… Ali would be his hero or something! Caleb has a point, though. Somewhere along the line, it's occured to Erin that she can end what she's doing simply by letting her temper go. Easier said than done, though, and— No, not worth thinking about right now. Tiredly, she puts her arm around Caleb. "You have no idea how glad I am that we're both weird." Even if she has Ali that she can talk to, it's… somehow less lonely knowing that you're not the only freak in the family. "…Most things? How long have you been able to do this?"

On that question, Caleb releases her, shifting back down to the other end of the couch to lean against the opposite arm, a leg folded, other foot braced against the floor. "No, I got some idea," he corrects, a little wryly, and absently cracks his knuckles - which considering the display with the spoon, that might be slightly offputting. "Um." Glance at her. Glance at ceiling. Back at her. Glance at wall. "Coupleofyears?" he mumbles.

Erin could be angry that he didn't tell her. Could be. But the fact is, she knows for a fact that it's not easy. A couple of years, though? Does he even know there's more people like them? Erin has no idea how many more, but according to Alyssa… Quite a few. Besides, if Caleb had told her this before, she really might have flipped out, because they're supposed to be NORMAL. "I've known for about a month. Same thing that happened to you happened to one of my co-stars and my roommate. Taine— didn't take it so well." They're cool now. He's charming her, slowly. "…What about the rest of the family? You think they…?" It has to be at least somewhat likely, right?

She can still feel viruses. Little teeny-tiny, mostly harmless cold viruses. Caleb's probably going to be sick tomorrow, which is going to suck, but she doesn't have the energy to kill off the last of them. "You feel okay, right? I didn't, like, damage you completely, right? You're okay?"

"I'm okay," Caleb confirms, folding his arms. "Not great, but okay. Heh." He's a reasonably healthy individual, as most outdoorsy types are. Being sick doesn't occur often, and that had taken the cake. "I don't know about the rest of them. I guess it would make sense, if you— and me." Gesture between them. "Maybe you should ask." YES, YOU. NOT WE, YOU. How subtle. Then, he actually does smile at her, in the usual slightly lopsided but otherwise flattering way of his. "You realise this is the most interest I've seen you take in someone else?" He doesn't seem to mean it as a jab, just as an interesting piece of trivia.

Well, he's okay for now. Erin imagines he'll be back when she needs to cure the damn cold. She tries - oh, she tries. In fact, there's a familiar shine in her eyes as she tries to kill the viruses, but it's like they're laughing at her. NO, WE HAVE TAKEN UP RESIDENCE HERE. HE'S COMFY. NYAHNYAH. Not that viruses talk, but she feels like they're mocking her.

"Me!? I'm not asking! Can you imagine what would happen if Mika found out? About us?" She wouldn't tell on purpose. It would just kinda slip out randomly, probably - with their luck - to a crowd of a million or so people. At the Olympics. Because Erin's sure Mikayla will make it one way or another, and when she wins a medal for most awesome softball player ever? Her speech will involve her weird siblings.

Erin allows a brief snort. "Well, I think my count is three people now. Kinda makes you re-evaluate things I little. The entire set was sick for awhile, I just…" At the moment, her emotions are laid pretty bare. She's not trying to act cool, or roll her eyes or anything. "I don't know… what I'd do… If I accidentally… You know. I'm …" Scared. She can never quite say that, though.

A cold will suck, but he's not entirely noticing it yet. In contrast to the WOAHMIGOD extreme virus attack a few moments ago, any grogginess he's feeling is sort of being ignored. Caleb hesitates, hand twitching as if he's tempted to reach out and take her's in a reassuring way, but ultimately decides that that would get him laughed at, so he huddles into the couch instead. "That's why you should ask," he says, raising an eyebrow, smile gone. "How're you meant to understand this and not kill someone if you don't find out where the hell it comes from?" Yeah, he flippantly adds the unspoken word in there - despite it almost happening to him. "Only reason I haven't is because squishing stuff isn't that dire."

'Squishing stuff' makes her smile again, glancing downward, then back up at Caleb. She'd… really rather not talk about killing people at the moment, because she almost has, and it's not pleasant, and she's said what she needed to say, and…

Caleb is far more interesting at the moment. "Squishing stuff? That's what you call it?" She eyes the bowl of popcorn. He could, like, — no, wait. She's going to ask him. ASK HIM. "You could make popcorn balls without the caramel." A favourite Christmas treat! BROUGHT TO YOU BY CALEB MCCARTY. It's… kind of useless, really, but it's cool for the sake that he can do it at all. She'd much rather be able to do that, truthfully. Pulling one leg up, she nods at the bowl of popcorn. DO IT, Caleb. Do it. She dares. Or she would, if she weren't about to pass out.

"Well. I call it crumpling," Caleb corrects her, with a shrug. Because that's exactly what it looks like - stranger than any kind of super strength, the stuff just sort of collapses rather than simply breaking under pressure. At her dare, he blinks at her, then looks towards the bowl. He could say it probably doesn't work that way, that they'd just end up with a mess of popcorn crumbs. But instead, Caleb just picks up the bowl, and… folds it. A few pieces of popcorn spill out but he's careful, using the flat of his palms to warp the bowl to almost close, until it's nearly the shape of an overgrown pasta shell. Then he hands it over, and he's attempting - and failing - not to smirk. "Modern art, instead. I gotta go and get to a class," he says, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "Just wanted to see if you could free up your weekend." Oh yeah, that.

Crumpling. Makes sense, really. Now that Erin's too tired to make fun, she just nods, watching as he stands in that sort of dazed not-all-there fashion. There's something important that tripped all this off; at first she can't recall, but then Caleb brings it up again, and it's suddenly the most important thing in the world, ever. "Wait, Cay." Free up the weekend. She was just going to sit around and do nothing anyway! Maybe plan a couple prop changes, look at her lines, call Taine and see if he wants to go out for lunch one day. It's not as if she was doing anything major. "I'll… I'll go, if the invitation's still open."

Caleb pauses when she says his name, pulling his jacket on and buttoning it up. He weighs this, it seems, then nods to her. "See you next week," is his simple acknowledgment - and again, maybe another slight hint of a smile, before he's heading to the door — only to be hindered by a loud and sudden "ACHOO!" of a sneeze, sniffling once, before resuming his journey on out.

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