Chapter Text
California sat in the living room, on a small chair tucked away in the corner, playing on his Switch. He let out a small huff as he once again died in his game when he heard loud laughter and shouts heading in his direction. A small group came in and plopped themselves on the couches in front of the TV, giving him a slight look of disgust before continuing to talk about whatever football game was about to be on.
Holding back a sigh, California brought his knees to his chest and kept hacking his way through the level he was playing. This was why he avoided being in the common areas of the statehouse for too long. He really didn't need the snarky comments and whispered insults they thought he couldn't hear, or even the ones they said so he would hear. He got enough of those in meetings and really did try his hardest to stay relatively agreeable outside of a political setting. Unfortunately, having a big enough moral compass to say something when someone is being a bigoted *technical glitch* means lots of people don't care for you.
Yet, here he was. Sitting in the living room while the other states whispered insults in front of him. Stuck here since Florida set off a stink bomb in his room, his house in the valley was being fumigated for termites, and it was raining. Like, who would willingly leave their house while it's raining? That only happens, like, twice a year. Not worth it.
California groaned again as the death music played through his headphones.
"Could ya shut up, safe space? For God's sake, some of us are tryin' to watch football over here." Texas snarked, the other states in the room glaring at him, all equally annoyed by his very presence.
Rolling his eyes, California proceeded to flip them off before switching his game to Animal Crossing. He could continue running face-first into a brick wall another time.
"Well *technical glitch* you too." Texas huffed before turning around and making some comments on the game to Alabama.
Pulling up his island, California set to work, trying to save up enough resources to get the new outfit he had his eyes on. It reminded him of his surfer days, and while that lifestyle was unsustainable and would never end up progressing in any way, it was fun to imagine he had time to take a break and go live the surfer lifestyle again. After being caught in his own little world for a moment, California started to listen in on the conversation between the other states while mindlessly completing tasks.
"What's he doin' here anyways?" Nebraska asked Kentucky in a hushed voice.
"Dat's easy. Florida went and put a stink bomb in his room." Louisiana chuckled.
"Doesn't he have anywhere else to go?" South Carolina asked.
"Bless your heart," Georgia smiles, "You think he has friends?"
California winced. That one hurt.
"Since he's a snowflake, I doubt he'd go out in the rain, and I'm pretty sure I heard him complaining to New York about his house being fumigated or somethin'," Alabama muttered before cursing at the TV. "How the *technical glitch* did they miss that!"
"Hah, yous getting your ass whooped." Louisiana chuckled.
The talk drifted back to the game as California curled in on himself, fidgeting with the buttons on his switch. He had long stopped playing at this point.
It hurt when they'd talk about him like this. He really tried to not let it get to him. Remember that this was just the football states who hated his guts anyways. But then again, were they wrong? Even the western states couldn't stand him anymore. Oregon and Washington stopped hanging out with California in the early 2000s. And the only reason New York even talked to him anymore was because of the entertainment industry. Was he really that unlikeable?
His phone buzzed, pulling California from his thoughts. Pulling his phone out, California looked at the screen, noting the new bill his representatives had just sent for his viewing. While he didn't have a vote on any final decision made by his representatives, he did try to make sure word got out to the people in his state so they could call their reps. His people were far too opinionated and would blame him should anything go wrong, so he wanted to make sure they had a chance to have their voices heard.
Scanning through the bill, California noted the clauses with false promises with no plans meant to appease people in his state, covering up the fact that the bill was just created by farming companies to ease regulations on well drilling. California's farms were desperate for cheaper water, but the Colorado river was drying out, and there was no water to go around, so water prices wouldn't be easing up any time soon.
But the world would keep turning, and people would find new ways to *technical glitch* up the world for the next generations. All California could do at this point was help the next generation see what was happening and hope their voices would speak loud enough to create actual changes.
After noting the problematic points in the bill, California continued to post the finalised bill without any notes on his website before sending out his highlighted version to the several activist groups he stayed in contact with.
When he finished, California looked up, expecting the football states to be sitting there either yelling at the screen or muttering snarky comments about him, only to find that the football game was over and most of the states had left the room.
Alabama was sitting in the corner sulking, having lost the game, while Texas was talking to Tennesee, trying to get him to confess he got Louie to use voodoo to guarantee his win.
Louisiana started defending himself, saying that nothing Tennesee had would be worth bringing out his voodoo for and that Alabama lost all on his own.
As Alabama went to yell at Louisiana for the insult, Texas noticed that California had stopped typing away on his phone and was now staring in their direction.
"Finally done harassing people, safe space?" Texas snarked.
"For your information-" California started before taking a deep breath and shaking his head, getting up, and muttering to himself, "You know what, no, it's fine. I'm just going to go check to see if my room has aired out yet."
"Run away then, coward," Texas shouted after him as he turned the corner into the hallway.
Walking up the stairs to his room, California tried to loosen his death grip on his phone and Switch. He really didn't want to get into any arguments. For *technical glitch* sake, it was his admission day. He had just wanted to spend it in peace for once. It wasn't his fault Florida thought it would be a funny gift to stink bomb his room, and it wasn't even meant to rain in September.
Approaching his room, California let a sign of relief escape his lungs. His room no longer smelled bad enough that his eyes watered, and he would probably survive with just the window open and some homemade air freshener he had stored in a reusable spray bottle.
Walking in, the door shutting softly behind him, California rested his back against it and sank to the floor, trying to stop the tears before they started.
He had accepted that if he wanted to stay firm in his beliefs and help people as much as possible, he would isolate himself from everyone. No one likes a know-it-all who won't go with the status quo and refuses to let things slide. He knew that, but it still hurt to hear them all speak about him like that on his admission day.
Taking a deep breath, California lifted himself from the floor, stood up, and shoved his switch on its charger before flopping on his bed. He had planned to go to a wine tasting today in Napa and have a chill time faking a social life. Maybe post a few pics on his insta. Something to make it look like he had friends.
The only messages he received were the standard, auto-sent text from Gov wishing him a Happy Admission Day and Florida's 'I hope you liked your present.' Even his own reps ignored his admission day.
His life was sad.
A message notification rang on his phone, causing California to close his eyes and take a deep breath before likely being disappointed by the contents.
Unsurprisingly, all that came up on his screen was a text from New York saying he's sent back the revised script for the new Mario movie's musical numbers.
Letting his phone drop out of his hand, California chuckled dryly to himself. Even the closest person he had to a friend hadn't noted his admission day. Not that it was New York's style in the slightest, but he would still usually send a biting message about how it wasn't a horrible thing that California was a state.
California pulled back his covers and curled up in his bed, his arms hugging himself, trying to focus on the notion that even if he isolated himself, at least he would be a catalyst of change in some way, shape, or form.
The cold night chilled his bones, contrasting the familiar feeling of never-ending fires running through his veins. Closing his eyes, California slowly drifted to sleep, trying to ignore the sense of hopelessness that leaked into his heart.