06-21-2014, 01:52 PM
For the rest of the week, Connor felt pretty good. He'd gotten a few questions at work when he showed up with a black eye and a swollen lip. He played it off and seemed his usual self to them. After the last week or so of seeming down and withdrawn, the return to his regular self masked any real concern about why his face was beat up or that he moved with some obvious pain. Charlie had been right about that, no question there. And he wasn't a spring chicken either.
Between work and actually training at Gracie's Connor wasn't home much, and that was fine with him. Charlie and he and few other guys from the gym might go out for beers too, which was a lot of fun. He didn't feel that tired dead feeling much, not when he was busy. He was doing alright. Mostly. At night....at night, well, it was a different story. He'd come home after a night out, especially when he had been drinking, and walk down the hall, getting closer to her door. He might even stop for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. He wanted to knock, would raise his hand to knock, but...no. He couldn't. He'd walk to his apartment, go inside, and sit on the couch watching TV until he fell asleep.
As the days went by, it all started to pall. He liked Charlie fine and thought they were becoming friends. So that aspect was cool. But all the rest, the carousing and keeping busy, after a while it just felt so empty. That listless feeling returned and he thought about Ayden.
He still had her keys. Sometimes he got them out and just looked at them. For some reason, he didn't think of them as marks anymore. He thought of what they represented. A life, a lot of life. And she had just given it to him. He'd seen her waitress uniform and groceries. So she was working somewhere. She was doing something. Part of him wanted to believe it was permanent. But the other part...the part that lived deep inside him that remembered, that saw life and universe constantly taking things from him, that part didn't trust. It was afraid to trust.
By the end of the week, he was back to where he was before. He was going to have to hit the club again. But the guys at work roped him into going to a bar not far from where he lived called Chesterfields. It was a really nice upscale bar and grill, very open and earthy. He liked it a lot. Felt like a place he could spend some time in. The uniforms looked nice, though slightly familiar. Then again, uniforms sort of always all looked the same.
Charlie had come out along with Vlad and the other guys and soon they were laughing and ordering shots. Seemed like maybe he wasn't going to need to go to the club after all. He was with his boys.
They'd been there maybe a couple hours and by then they were thoroughly under. Waitresses were dutifully flirted with, dirty jokes told, buddies ragged on, sports teams railed at: all the usual stuff.
"Check her out,"
said Stan, nodding his head to another table while holding his bottle in the other hand. Connor looked over, but it wasn't the woman at the table that caught his attention. The waitress had her back to him, fiery mass of red hair tied back, but he knew who it was. His heart lurched and dropped into his stomach. Suddenly, all of what he had been feeling came back to him and he put his drink down. He needed some air.
"Give me a sec, guys, Ok?"
He threaded his way to the doors and walked out into the cold night, the chill sharp in his nostrils. Looking up, he saw mostly clouds, though a few stars peeked through open patches. The silver glow of the moon emanated behind the edges of one cloud. God....what am I doing?
Edited by Connor Kent, Jun 22 2014, 08:34 AM.
Between work and actually training at Gracie's Connor wasn't home much, and that was fine with him. Charlie and he and few other guys from the gym might go out for beers too, which was a lot of fun. He didn't feel that tired dead feeling much, not when he was busy. He was doing alright. Mostly. At night....at night, well, it was a different story. He'd come home after a night out, especially when he had been drinking, and walk down the hall, getting closer to her door. He might even stop for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. He wanted to knock, would raise his hand to knock, but...no. He couldn't. He'd walk to his apartment, go inside, and sit on the couch watching TV until he fell asleep.
As the days went by, it all started to pall. He liked Charlie fine and thought they were becoming friends. So that aspect was cool. But all the rest, the carousing and keeping busy, after a while it just felt so empty. That listless feeling returned and he thought about Ayden.
He still had her keys. Sometimes he got them out and just looked at them. For some reason, he didn't think of them as marks anymore. He thought of what they represented. A life, a lot of life. And she had just given it to him. He'd seen her waitress uniform and groceries. So she was working somewhere. She was doing something. Part of him wanted to believe it was permanent. But the other part...the part that lived deep inside him that remembered, that saw life and universe constantly taking things from him, that part didn't trust. It was afraid to trust.
By the end of the week, he was back to where he was before. He was going to have to hit the club again. But the guys at work roped him into going to a bar not far from where he lived called Chesterfields. It was a really nice upscale bar and grill, very open and earthy. He liked it a lot. Felt like a place he could spend some time in. The uniforms looked nice, though slightly familiar. Then again, uniforms sort of always all looked the same.
Charlie had come out along with Vlad and the other guys and soon they were laughing and ordering shots. Seemed like maybe he wasn't going to need to go to the club after all. He was with his boys.
They'd been there maybe a couple hours and by then they were thoroughly under. Waitresses were dutifully flirted with, dirty jokes told, buddies ragged on, sports teams railed at: all the usual stuff.
"Check her out,"
said Stan, nodding his head to another table while holding his bottle in the other hand. Connor looked over, but it wasn't the woman at the table that caught his attention. The waitress had her back to him, fiery mass of red hair tied back, but he knew who it was. His heart lurched and dropped into his stomach. Suddenly, all of what he had been feeling came back to him and he put his drink down. He needed some air.
"Give me a sec, guys, Ok?"
He threaded his way to the doors and walked out into the cold night, the chill sharp in his nostrils. Looking up, he saw mostly clouds, though a few stars peeked through open patches. The silver glow of the moon emanated behind the edges of one cloud. God....what am I doing?
Edited by Connor Kent, Jun 22 2014, 08:34 AM.