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J,GOB - Sunday Evening

Rusty had definitely not gotten used to this place yet. It was beyond weird, but it was certainly interesting.

In a quest to find the best food on the island, he was currently seated at Jeff, God of Biscuits with a sandwich, chips and several pastries.

[expecting one, but open before that]

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Tyler was in no particular mood when he entered the bakery, other than "wanting a ham and cheese on rye."

That changed rather quickly when he spotted the man, the imaginary friend, at the table across the way. He didn't mean to stare, but it was hard not to when you were pretty sure your soul was leaving your body and your hands were shaking enough to register at the Richter scale.

Rusty felt the weight of the stare and glanced up, worried that he was going to see one of Benedict's men standing there.

But this guy didn't look like hired muscle. Rusty gave him a nod and then turned his attention back to his brownie.

Tyler didn't look away. He couldn't. The guy was a little older, but he was always a little older, and the hair had changed, but that changed too.

It was fucking Tyler Durden, and he was Tyler Durden, and it was making his world implode.

"You aren't supposed to be real," he informed Rusty, almost under his breath. "Haven't seen you in ... a while."

On the scale of weird things that Rusty had seen thus far, having some strange guy tell him that he wasn't supposed to be real was pretty high on the list.

"I don't believe we've met."

Tyler was warily backing away. "You're me."

Rusty blinked. "I'm Rusty Ryan and last time I looked in a mirror, I didn't look anything like you."

"You look the way I want to ... never mind." Tyler was starting to remember this was Fandom and it was possible, unlikely as it seemed, there was another explanation. "What did you say your name was?"

"Rusty Ryan," he repeated, not offering a hand because this guy was giving him a weird feeling. "I'm the new owner of the Mauvaise Chance Apartments. I didn't catch your name?"

Oh, that was funny. "Tyler Durden," he said. "It used to be your name, too."

"I think you have me confused with someone else," Rusty said. "I've never used that name."

Trust him, he remembered every one of his aliases.

Tyler cricked his neck, thinking. "I was supposed to be the clever part," he said.

He was starting to realize this was Fandom, and there might be a different explanation. "Rusty," he said, as if he didn't trust the name. "Can you wait there for a second?"

"I still have half a brownie and a piece of apple pie, I'm not going anywhere," Rusty said.

"Good," Tyler told him, and went to the~~NPC~~ guy behind the counter.

He might have been overheard to ask: "Do you see that blond guy? Really? What's he doing? I tell you to say that? Did I tell you to say that? Have I ever told you to lie?"

When he was done, the counter guy looked thoroughly freaked, but Tyler was almost satisfied. "Sorry," he told Rusty, returning. "You remind me of something."

Rusty was almost as freaked as the counter guy, but he played it cool. "No problem, man. Everything okay?"

It took a moment, but: "Yeah. I think so."

Pay no attention to how he was all pale and sweaty.

People looked like other people all the time in Fandom, he tried to reason. But someone looking like his delusion? That was a new one.

Given Rusty's profession, he definitely noticed the pale and sweaty thing, but he wasn't going to mention it.

"You work here in town?"

"I teach at the school," Tyler said, trying to shake it off. He could be normal. "Chemistry."

Rusty was definitely striving for normal.

"You been here a long time? I've only been here a few days and I'm getting the feeling that this town is pretty damn strange."

Tyler gave him a ya think? kind of look. "It was 2018 when I left home and 2008 when I got here," he said. "And that's dull for this place."

And, also, Rusty looked like Tyler's imaginary evil twin. He was going to stare a little bit longer.

The staring was starting to make Rusty think that Tyler had a thing for him.

"You time traveled?"

He kind of did. Or he had a thing for someone who looked like Rusty, not that he would admit it, not that the other person was real to start with, and this was just awkward.

"And ten years is nothing by this place's standards," he said. "Fun part, I went here when I was a kid. My class is seniors this year."

"Seriously?" Rusty eyed the guy. "You don't look that young."

And sorry Tyler, but Rusty is only gay for Danny. And sometimes Linus.

"Twenty-seven," Tyler said, giving Rusty an odd look. "How old do I look?"

He hadn't had an easy life, but he didn't think he looked elderly, or anything.

"Oh, right, time travel," Rusty remembered. "So is it weird seeing your friends still as teenagers?"

"The weird thing is teaching them," Tyler said, finally clicking into what was almost a normal conversational mode. Though it was still easier if he just didn't meet Rusty's eyes. "Though, it's bizarre, the ones I thought would try to take advantage of me all shut up and sit down. It's the ones who have no idea who the hell I am who give me attitude."

This ... might say rather a lot about Tyler's reputation, he reflected.

"Sounds like your friends respect you," Rusty pointed out. He was still feeling vaguely uneasy with Tyler, but trying to ignore it. He had gotten pretty used to ignoring things that made him uneasy, like Tess.

"Or they've all been here long enough to want to stay out of detention," Tyler shrugged. "The kids are interesting. I got a pie exploded at me last week."

Rusty smirked. "Sounds like the kind of stuff I did as a kid. I was never much for school."

"I left after tenth grade and got my GED," Tyler said, omitting that he had tried to blow up the school on his way. "I ended up going to a regular college, but that was later. Weird they let me teach, but I'm going with it."

If he mentioned it, Rusty would want to introduce him to Basher.

"Whatever works."

"I guess," Tyler agreed. "It was ~~incredibly awkward~~ ~~very strange~~ ~~going to send me into a bottle for the rest of the night~~ nice meeting you. Sorry for my little mix-up."

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J,GOB - Sunday Evening

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