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 Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 12:36 pm
"I can't afford to be dead," Reed laughed. "I've never thought about it until now. It costs money to even shove off this place. I don't have plans, how many times do I have to say it?"
Reed was probably just as frustrated, though nowhere near as angry as Jon seemed to be. He couldn't do math in his head, but the writing on the wall was that Jon was getting remorse for one night of excess.
"In truth, I'm not your problem and you've got enough of your own," Reed said. "You're better off forgetting last night. It was just a mistake, right? And if you got a little stress relief out of it, it was an added bonus."
Reed took a face towel and instinctively started wiping down the mirror and counter.
"I'm not off the hook, but what do I do now?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 1:27 pm
Jon opened up a drawer and began to put his things away, dropping the black shower bag into a larger drawer near the bottom. He would settle himself in later today when he had time to kill. Right now....
"Then don't die," he said, folding the damp towel and looping it over a bar. There was no point in trying to explain himself anymore. Edgy has he was, he still had enough sense to realize that Reed was right (as much as he hated admitting it). He couldn't exactly force the guy to do anything, that wasn't how he worked (the Cotones, on the other hand...). Getting people to feed out of the palm of his hand was Vardaman's job; he wasn't as charming. It was back to square one.
"Go back to bartending, I guess. I am not your master, Kunta Kinta," he said, smile thin. Jon unlocked the door and stepped into the hall, making his way back to his room. He was at the point where he didn't care if Blaine heard or not.
"That was one helluva therapy session."
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 1:45 pm
Reed felt the ice slide through from across Jon's skin to his own at this point. He felt that Jon had had his fun, felt guilt, and it was Reed's time to get the hell out of Dodge.
"I see," Reed pulled the bag off his shoulders. "I think there's no room in those rules. I think my time here is done, Mr. Gudleif."
He didn't say anything else, other than what he said after walking out of the bathroom and towards the front door. It was a calm walk, storming out of someone else's apartment didn't quite seem appropriate when the thought of Blaine stabbing Jon with it wasn't something he wanted to see come true.
"Good day to you, Mr. Vardaman," Reed nodded to Blaine, whether he was paying attention or not. "I hope your works are fruitful, sir."
Shoving his sunglasses back onto his face, he shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled on the way down the stairs. Elevators, today, had lost their appeal.
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 8:21 pm
Jon took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose when he got to his room. Guilt was not something he liked dealing with. It was one thing when it was his own, he could handle it however he pleased, but when it was geared towards another altogether... why was he feeling guilt in the first place? Because Reed was a moron? He groaned as dug through the large pocket of his suitcase in search of a brown belt, counting backwards from ten. After fishing his cell phone from his ruined jacket, he grabbed his leather briefcase on the way out of his room, wondering how many Tylenol he could take before he overdosed. He slung the strap over his shoulder.
"Finally heading out?"
Jon paused, pulling his Blackberry from his pocket to check it, "Yeah. Shouldn't take too long. I'll brief you when I get back."
When he looked up next, Vardaman had him pinned beneath that scrutinizing gaze of his, as though picking him apart. Jon had long since steeled his expression against reacting towards it, instead raising a brow in question. The redhead climbed to his feet and stuck the paper beneath his arm.
"I don't need to go, do I?" he queried lightly. Jon's lips twitched, biting back the urge to remind Blaine he would be sitting down the entire time. All he needed to know was where to park his a**.
"No, sir, not today," Jon quipped. He put his Blackberry away to loop his belt on his way to the door.
"Catching up with your beau?" If Jon didn't know any better, he would have called that a purr. He looked over his shoulder, took much too long (in his mind) to respond. There was no smile on Vardaman's face, but it was there in his eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"You reeked of him when you came in, I simply figured...."
"Good afternoon, Vardaman." Jon shut the door with a snap, praying that - by the grace of some god come calling for past trangressions - the elevator cables would snap on his way down and he would die in a ball of flame.
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 8:36 pm
"'Go back to bartending'..." Reed muttered miserably. He argued at no one on the way down the steps. "Yeah, fine. Who gives a s**t, right? 'Some people need rules, Reed.' Got that right. Rule number one, don't bring drunk people home and expect a miracle. Learned my lesson, goddammit."
He fished the keys out of his pockets, walking the steps at his own pace. Who'd he have to be on time for, anyway? Reed whistled, though the cheer in it was gone. No doubt it would return, but this was the first time he ever dropped someone off at their place feeling guilty that he'd ever met them. Regret, perhaps, but never guilt or shame. Had he done something wrong? The guy wanted to escape, the guy wanted to get away and the next morning... well, he was used to next mornings. It was usually sung to the tune of "I'll call you sometime." They rarely did and this one didn't seem keen on leaving a number.
===
Arjun was busy ignoring the ire of a few male co-workers as the pretty little blonde girl they'd all had their eyes on volunteered to help him get the tables set and the coffee made. He didn't even ask and here she came, eager to assist when all he did was pick up the bag of some strange foofy, gourmet coffee (for he never drank the stuff) and the filters to set up in the pot.
"Oh, I'll get the mugs," she piped up, smiling at him. He swore she even batted her eyes at him. Did women really do that or was she being sarcastic?
Whatever her intentions, the other guys were hopping mad with jealousy. He did his best to act as though that was to be expected while all the while he hoped he wasn't mugged in an alley after work.
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 9:07 pm
Some sort of god answered him when he got into the elevator, just not the one he was asking for. Jon stared at the bull mastiff panting away happily and the little girl it was attached to.
"Isn't he cute? Daddy got him for me for my birthday. I wanted a pony, but he said they wouldn't let me have one here, so he got me Brooklyn instead," she chattered at him, quite content with the beast on the end of its all-too-dainty leash. The dog shifted and whuffled Jon's hand which promptly shot back and smacked into the back of the elevator wall with an audible clang. Didn't their combined weights break regulation for the elevator? He humored the girl with a smile.
"I like your ears, Mister, but my mommy told me I'm 'mildly allergic to cat dander,' whatever that means, suppose I can pet your ears sometime? Think I'll break out in hives?"
Jon didn't answer, just stared at the creature that was getting a little too comfortable in his company. He stared at the numbers above the door, 3... 2... 1...
-- and freedom!
"Maybenexttime," he shot over his shoulder, jogging towards the main exit. Brooklyn barked after him, which was cause enough to lengthen his stride towards the steps.
A person would have to be blind, no-- blind and dead, to miss that mop of bizarre red hair (he pretended not to feel relief that Reed had been taking his time). It stood out like a beacon under the blazing sunlight.
"Reed!"
Well, that had just popped out of his mouth. Was he supposed to be apologizing or clarifying? Both maybe... or reminding Reed that he was an idiot that couldn't read a simple signal worth a damn. Maybe claiming his ride while he was at it. His hand was half raised in the air. Speaking of his ride....
"...Is... that your car being towed?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 9:28 pm
Reed could only stare. When it rained it poured. There was certainly no joy in Mudville now. He could only watch in bitter dismay as Fatty McAsscrack was hauling his poor purple beast up and away. There'd be no way he could even afford to get her back. Reed could only hang his head at this point, he screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. Only a disgusted grunt came out of his mouth at that point.
"Well, so much for that," he said in a very low, miserable voice. "Looks like a long walk. Good luck with your conference... thing..."
Would Jon seriously run all the way down to point out that his car was being towed? Reed supposed that'd be a kind gesture had he not felt that Jon wanted him out of the picture as quickly as he fell into it. Was this insult to injury or was Jon going to say something like "you dropped your wallet"? Reed patted his back pocket. At this point, anything else might be gone for good.
On top of it all, it was a bright and sunny day.
"I need a drink."
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 10:26 pm
"Hey."
Jon couldn't get past that word. He certainly hadn't come down with any sort of plan in mind. To be honest, he hadn't expected to catch up with Reed at all (and a small voice in the back of his head was pointing out that he had been hoping Reed would already be gone to save him the embarrassment of an apology). He balanced himself on the lip of the last step, arms folding across his chest. This wouldn't be the most opportune (or choice) moment to whistle his disbelief. It was taking a patchwork of every fiber in his being to keep his laughter at bay. Hysterical laughter. The panicked kind. Really, Jon felt bad for the poor b*****d!
He rubbed his jaw, conveniently hiding his grinning mouth behind a hand.
"I mean..." he began in observation, unable to keep the smart a** reined. "You did park on a yellow line... free game."
Jon pressed his lips into a white line, biting down so hard on nothing that his jaw felt like it would crush itself. Alex had told him once that he shouldn't laugh at another's expense, not the way he did. You'll get yourself killed, he had said. And you know what? No one would care! 'Cause you're a d**k.
Jon was a d**k. Unable to keep poker faced any longer, he burst out laughing.
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Posted: Thu Jul 02, 2009 9:08 am
So...
What do you do when the s**t hits the fan, man?, Reed asked himself. How can you drive when you've lost your ride, Clyde? Got no direction, lost all connections. What good are you now?
If life were a musical, Reed would burst into song. A chorus of singers from apartment windows, balconies, rooftops, and alleyways would come out and sing. Hobos and winos from down in the gutters, if this town hadn't run them out to the poorer part of town, would have stood up and instant vigor and life to sing. A cop writing down a ticket would've walked by and stuffed the paper in Reed's pocket in his shiny leather shoes and pristine suit. The cab driver would say "Them's the breaks, kid!" and drive past him.
All he got was Jon's laughter.
"Yeah, you're welcome," he muttered weakly as he kept walking. "Stupid a*****e, you could buy your way out of anything..."
He whistled his way down the sidewalk. Though he wouldn't be surprised if cartoon characters suddenly appeared to offer consolation.
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Posted: Thu Jul 02, 2009 10:56 am
The sun could not have shone any brighter over Reed's woe. Jon would not have been any more surprised if a tiny storm cloud gathered over Reed's head to spit rain and lightning. The image had him doubled over, breathless with laughter.
He tried to stop it, honest, but the more breath he sucked down the more fuel he had for laughter. Any more and he would pass out; he already had tears in his eyes. Stumbling from the last step, he ambled after Reed with a beckoning hand, trying to sputter out a 'wait!' when he had enough air to form the word. It didn't really work. He needed that air for walking.
It took some time to ride it out to tamed snickering (if he didn't dwell on it) and by that time Reed was halfway down the sidewalk. Jon tried to think of something else as he re-shouldered the strap of his briefcase and jogged after the redhead. Once he had caught up to him, he rounded on Reed and pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. Then he looked into his face and--
Thinkofsomethingelsethinkofsomethingelse. But the dejection in Reed's expression was too priceless, too precious and Jon cracked, mouth strained with a broken grin. He looked on the verge of another round of laughter.
Papa tossed a man in the river once for pulling a stunt like that, Natalia had commented a long time ago, though she was hardly one to talk. She found other's misery hysterical. Swimming with the fishes now, you know.
Jon cleared his throat with some trouble, unable to wipe his smile, "That's not-- I didn't come down here to-- I mean, that's just unfortunate really-- Just. Give me a minute, would you?"
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Posted: Sat Jul 04, 2009 2:29 pm
Reed kept going, he could at least find some small revenge in seeing Jon wheeze out those tar black lungs of his. Maybe he'd laugh himself to death. He pondered then if it would be homicide if you made a man who smoked more than a barbecue pit die from laughing too hard. At least he'd die happy, right? I'm sure that would stand to reason in court. Then again, he was the poor b*****d accused of killing the rich b*****d. It was usually the poor b*****d who went to jail instead of the judge just saying, "He was a rich son of a b***h, you win."
"Your minute was up hours ago," Reed replied simply. "Go back to... whatever the hell it was you do. Making other assholes look good or something."
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Posted: Sat Jul 04, 2009 11:57 pm
"Reed!"
It never occurred to Jon that this could have been some sort of sign. A second chance, if you will, that he should have eagerly glommed on to. No, he was too busy being completely floored by Reed's passionless refusal to acknowledge him; being punched would have been a better reaction. Okay, so he had laughed about the car. Right, it wasn't funny, he got that from the look on Reed's face. But that could be easily rectified, couldn't it? He went over what had transpired in the bathroom... which wasn't much other than to serve in pointing out their major communication issues.
Jon blinked, nearly laughed again. That made it sound like they were something more than a pair of one-night-standers.
"I didn't come down here to fight. Actually, I came down to remind you that you sort of owed me a ride," he paused. "But that's redundant now. Look, seriously--"
Uh. Jon swallowed his words as he fumbled to find something appropriate to say that wasn't an apology. He didn't do apologies.
"Let me help," he began again, barring Reed's path by planting himself in front of the redhead. He held his hands up in mock surrender. "It's practically my fault anyway. Come with me to the meeting and I swear I'll get your car back- " Or buy you a new one. "- I don't like leaving things on a bad note."
Jon didn't believe in karma or higher beings, so instead of questioning his roundabout way of possibly giving a damn about the other hapless, feline, he was busy asking himself: are you so desperate for company?
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 6:50 am
"Owe you a ride!? On what? Clouds? Thin air?" Reed kept walking, shaking his head. "I owe too many people, you'll just have to be tacked on to the list. If you get that old jalopy back that'd just be one more thing I owe to someone else. Too many things piling up... no wonder momma just disappeared one day," he mused and huffed a laugh out his nose.
And then it hit him. Like a brick between the eyes. Why NOT just disappear? Why not...? I've still got the keys to get into the bar...
In a matter of seconds his eyes lit up and his ears went a little more straight. He stopped to inspect his keyring to make sure the keys were still there. Maybe Max and Jakey had something to that never being home habit. Maybe Reed could really be a little more like his brothers, the idea of telling the world to go ******** itself sounded really, really good right now. He hadn't had breakfast, he'd be humiliated by someone with more pocket change than Reed had in his bank account, and now the sheriff took this cowboy's horse... What did cowboys do when someone took their horse, anyway?
His eyes went a little distant.
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 12:28 pm
"What-- it was a joke, Jesus Christ! You wouldn't owe me anyth-- agh, just-- uncle! I give up, you win! I'm sorry I bothered!"
Jon stopped giving chase and threw his hands into the air, really surrendering now. At this point he was tense again, irritation and anger and frustration all balled into one knot that sat at the back of his neck and the base of his spine; trying to unravel it would be impossible. His headache returned through the haze of his medication and yanked his focus away with no intention of giving it back. Great.
Jon rubbed the bridge of his nose and threw himself down on a low brick wall off the sidewalk, taking a moment to attempt to calm himself. No wonder my hair is gray, he thought with a rueful smile. He punched a few buttons on his phone and pulled up the number for the taxi company; he just didn't have the time to play around anymore.
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 12:46 pm
Reed wasn't paying attention at this point, he decide to roll up his sleeves and jog his way back to the house. Plans were starting to burst into his mind and he had to figure out how to go about doing the things he was now plotting on doing. If he went to prison, hey... he could live of other people's money for a while! Free meals and television in a cozy, air conditioned Augustine prison for petty theft? Sweet deal!
He was thankful he wore his sneakers. He ran with his hair like a fiery comet's tail on the back of his head.
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