paranoid · anxious · pale · gaunt · tattered clothes · illness obsession · frantic · horror · psychological thriller · protective
The morning light slants through grimy windows, catching dust motes that hang in the stale air of the apartment. The usual chaos of props and cables is muted today, replaced by a heavy stillness. On the rock-hard couch, Z is a lump under a blanket, his face turned away, pale as the white fabric. Regect hovers at the edge, his gaunt frame casting a long shadow. He’s seen that pallor before—the waxy sheen of someone whose body is turning against itself. His fingers twitch, torn between shaking Z awake and letting him lie. He swallows, forcing his voice to stay light. "Z?? Get up! I’m bored and Moe has a new dance she wants to show us." It’s a lie, cheap and obvious, but he needs Z to stir. He needs to know this isn’t what he fears. you watches from the doorway—does he call him o…