leaning in

yeah, but i don't want them to hate me

blah
Gwen Stacy stacyexperiment
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Room 415- Wednesday night
Gwen had had a great time at the party- which was still really weird to her because these people were freakishly unterrible so far and did they know teenagers are horrible by defintion?- but when she got back to her room she sank right into a mood. She'd like to think she was handling the strange and messed-up stuff here pretty well, but she was getting the impression that she was going to see way worse than she had this weekend. She was going to have to worry about invasions and gremlins and the possibility of trading in her parts or thinking she was someone else, and this particular former dead girl didn't even want to touch everything involved with the evil murder carnival. It'd been an okay couple weeks, but now she was getting nervous and freaked out.

So she went back to her room, and had a little cry. She didn't even know about what, exactly, it was just a thing that needed to happen. Maybe it was being worried about what else might happen, maybe it was dealing with Fandom's shitty sense of humor already, maybe she was just scared that if she told Aunt May what this place was really like she'd want to take Gwen away and then she'd be a burden all over again as they figured out what to do with her.

When she calmed down, she picked up her phone and stared at it for a while. If Aunt May could handle what Peter dealt with all the time, Gwen dealing with the occasional problem in Fandom couldn't be too terrible. Besides, when Gwen either called or texted every day, if something was up, she wasn't going to be able to keep lying about it forever. So she dialed the number.

"Hey, it's me again. Sorry it's late, but do you have a minute to talk?"

[Had to do it eventually. Establishy.]

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