ZANE . house venture

[ Zane has a half-empty brownie plate next to him. (Courtesy of a couple certain superheroes.) He's leaning back against his bed, sitting on the floor. He licks his fingers of crumbs, and folds his arms so his elbows rest on his knees. ]

I was thinking.

[ He rubs at one of his eyes. ]

Whether or not you need someone, or love them - that doesn't have anything to do with whether you think they're - good. Good. Or good for you. You don't think like that. You think about how you feel. You don't think at all. Or you only think - in stupid ways.

You have to train someone to think that way. And will they really be happy? Calculations. Is this person better for me than they are bad... they owe me this much love to even the scales.

I've never done that. But I think it would be worse than keeping track of slight, or humiliation, or jealousy, or power. Keeping those was just ordinary. As easy as breathing or Burning.

There are some people I love who might not be very good. Here. But I love them anyway. Like family.

[ He's very intense. And keeps staring off into the distance for a second or two. ]

All my family is dead. [ Abruptly. ] Except, I think - maybe not. Probably dead.

[ He bites his lip, contemplatively. ]

I want to chew something.

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