It was finally time for Oliver and Cody's scheduled Saturday talk. By now, Oliver had grown accustomed to writing down some conversation topics in preparation, the ordeal becoming easier each week, but what had not become easier was the initial call. Each time, Oliver would ring first if Cody hadn't already beaten him to it, he would try a video call and wait for it to ring out and not be answered. Then, there would be a pause before Cody would ring back as a voice call. A voice call. It's always a voice call and never a video call. Why? Why do you not want me to see you, Cody? Is something wrong?

They went through the usual procedures of greeting and small talk before moving into anything of substance. Oliver kept to his list of topics, making notes and adding to it if he thought of anything more that he would want to return to, then he paused and impulsively wrote, 'why do you not want to do video calls?'. Afterwards, he added 'why didn't you tell me you had quit your job here?' And finally, 'when are you coming back?'

Oliver stared at the new additions, almost zoning out in thought, and Cody had to repeat himself multiple times.

"Is everything okay, Oliver?" Cody asked.

Oliver swallowed, staring at the questions he so desperately wanted to ask, but that would be unfair to Cody. Cody was healing and needed time, needed his parents. And Oliver needed... needed to respect that, to live his own life for now. Cody was not ready to come back yet and seemingly not any time soon if he had gotten a new job and been away long enough now that he was perhaps getting a replacement to fill his position in the band. Oliver felt a twinge of guilt spurn in his stomach, Cody did not know yet that he was going to be replaced, albeit temporarily, until he returned. Though Darren was going to ask Cody if he was alright with it, they were still going to see a potential replacement tonight perform, Rheanna and Zeke's friend Kal. It was fine. Cody would learn about it likely on Sunday or when the band comes to a decision, however, the one night of omission still felt like going behind Cody's back.

"Oliver?" Cody's voice brought him back to reality.

"Yeah." Oliver cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry. I think I'm just a bit tired from yesterday."

"Ah, from the show?"

"Yeah, late night."

"Your dirty stop-out," Cody teased.

"Yep, that's me, total pisscan, a wild child," Oliver said dryly.

He heard Cody chuckle on the other side.

And then there was a pause.

"But everything's alright, yeah?" Cody asked again, his voice soft and quiet. "If there's something you would like to talk about, I'm happy to listen, no trouble or judgement at all."

Oliver glanced at his list, at the latest additions and considered. "Nah, got no complaints."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, everything's grand."

There was a pause, and then Cody replied weekly. "Okay, well I shan't keep you then; get plenty of rest. I'll talk to you next week."

Oliver swallowed. "Yeah. next week."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Oliver waited, and Cody hung up first. He stared at his list again before crumpling it up and chucking it in the bin, although from this distance, he missed by a landslide.

Had he been convincing enough? Likely not. Oliver had never been good at lying despite his lack of expressions; perhaps it was because of how much he despised lying, the moral horror of it, that he was terrible at it. Never good at lying or persuading people, just not grandiloquent in general. Sometimes Oliver wondered what the point of talking was if he was terrible at it. Can't hold a conversation, can't talk to strangers or in large groups of people. What exactly did he contribute by talking? He had been told numerous times that he was boring, dull, too quiet, untalkative, no sense of humour, nothing of interest to say, a waste of space and time. Why aren't you smiling, Oliver?

He retrieved the Snickelway bucket list, rereading his side that was primarily focused on improving and fixing his incompetence in basic human socialising. No, perhaps it was best he stayed silent.