exile

When Aaron offered the cigarette and lighter, Max snatched them, lighting the cigarette before handing the lighter back. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes as Aaron pointed out that the guy looked much worse, like that was supposed to scare Max or something. It didn’t. He already knew Aaron could probably kick his ass, even if he was a little bigger than Aaron.

He snorted at Aaron’s attempt to make a dig at him. Yeah, he’d been called Eileen’s puppy before. He’d heard it plenty in high school, especially because Max was apparently a dog name. He didn’t care; if being a loyal friend made him an annoying, desperate lap dog, then so be it. Really, Aaron just sounded jealous. “Nope,” said Max, taking a drag of the cigarette. “She’s been busy, so I’m on my own tonight.” Did wallowing at home count as busy? Probably not, but better to let Aaron think Eileen was having a grand old time keeping herself busy without him. “Hey, how’s your dad doing?” Max asked in a way that indicated he didn’t give a shit about how Aaron’s dad was doing. But if Aaron was going to try to make digs at him and call him a dog, Max would make those digs right back.

Max should’ve kept his mouth shut. Aaron had no self control lately – not since his uncle’s passing, not since his father had gone to prison. Aaron already disliked Max, but hearing him make a jab at his father –

Aaron saw red.

Without much thought, Aaron flicked his cigarette onto the concrete, right before he grabbed a fistful of Max’s shirt. In one fluid moment, Aaron’s knuckles met the side of Max’s face rather harshly. He maintained a hold of Max’s shirt, looking him dead in the eye.

“Don’t fucking talk about my dad ever again.”

Aaron was probably right about the sentiment but he was being an ass on purpose. He kept pushing her away, leaving her with nothing. It was like he got a kick out of watching her squirm. Eileen couldn’t even get a word in before Aaron spoke up again. Talking about her things taking up space at his apartment. 

She looked at him then, daggers in her eyes. He pushed the right button with that one. A nail in the coffin of their relationship, still without giving her a reason. “Fucking burn it for all I care,” Eileen said, flicking the cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out with the sole of her shoe. “And go fuck yourself while you’re at it.”

Eileen should’ve left, turned around, gone inside the bar to her friends and get roaring drunk but her feet were firmly planted like her body wanted to fight. “I deserve better than what you put me through,” she said, her mouth moving without her brain’s permission. Her heart was in control now. 

‘I deserve better.’

Aaron’s mind couldn’t register anything else that she’d said. That statement was painfully true, and it hurt, putting Aaron in the defensive. 

“Yeah, well it wasn’t so easy for me, either,” Aaron snapped, flicking his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. “You were a fucking headache half the time. So fuckin’ self obsessed and no better than the friends you hang around with.”

Aaron couldn’t stop himself now. He was hurt, so he had to hurt Eileen in return. She’d never be able to understand the storm of emotions inside of him, so why bother even letting her in? She lived in a different reality than he did. 

“You coulda walked away any fucking time, babe, but you stayed. No one fucking made you. Grow the fuck up, Eileen.”

Luckily Lucia had brought a few extra joints, not that she’d been opposed to sharing one she’d done it more than a few times, but from the looks of it he needed one of his own. He hadn’t seemed to be in the highest of spirits when she’d appraoched him though she couldn’t pinpoint his exact mood. “ Yeah, I actually have a few more joints than I probably need anyways.” She repiled, opening her purse once again searching for one of the joints. It wasn’t long before she’d found one and extended her hand, offering him the joint and returning the lighter. “So, you make a habit of smoking with strangers or tonight just an off night?” She asked, figuring it was a generic enough question that might also give some clues of the stranger. While he had been the one to offer a cigarette, a friendlier gesture, his demeanor didn’t place him as an inviting guy. Plus she’d noticed brusing lingering under his eye and that probably had a story of it’s own.

This girl was like a dispenser for joints. Aaron liked her already. He nodded in thanks before tucking the joint behind his ear while he finished off his cigarette. Aaron shrugged in response to the woman’s question. There was no real answer to it. Lately, Aaron had just been going with the flow, and that oftentimes meant smoking it up with strangers. 

“I just do what feels good, I guess,” he explained, exhaling away from the woman. “And right now, smoking feels good.” He paused, examined the woman briefly, as if he were deciding what type of person she was. “You in the habit of giving strangers weed? Or is tonight just an off night?” He pondered, brow raised, turning her own question on her. 

Once Aaron was done with his cigarette, he disposed of it, and immediately placed the joint between his lips. He lit it, praying to god that it wasn’t shitty weed – or laced with anything that’d leave him really fucked up.

“Yeah, they could,” Aaron agreed, right before he took another deliberate drag of the cigarette. So could a million other things. Aaron knew better than to trust anyone, especially a Navarro, but they were near Solano territory, and Aaron was rather fearless these days. “Don’t give a shit about my lungs. Here for a good time, not a long time, right?” He exhaled away from the man. “You should be on an anti-smoking ad.” 

Eileen stifled a laugh at his remark about her friends. For the most part, Eileen’s friend group was fairly shallow; mostly people she partied with rather than have any meaningful conversation. Max was the exception, of course, but he wasn’t coming out that night so she’d be stuck hearing all the various ways she could win Aaron back all night. “Please, they’re obsessed with you,” she said. “Why do you think they dragged me here of all places?”

Eileen shrugged. “It was their bright idea we come here tonight. They can wait for me to finish a cigarette.”

Eileen’s friends had always been shallow. There was not much beyond the surface, and while Eileen spent majority of her time surrounded by those types of people, she’d been different. At least, for Aaron. They went beyond the superficial. And now, it was all gone – Aaron could only remember how it felt to be with Eileen. 

“Maybe they should focus on fixing their own shit before they try getting involved in yours,” he suggested. It wasn’t very likely. He knew how her friends could be, and it amazed Aaron how she could tolerate them so easily. For a moment, Aaron was quiet. Truthfully, he didn’t have much to say to Eileen. It was better that way – to keep things short. The more that he spoke to her, the more likely it became that he’d admit something that he couldn’t even admit to himself.

He missed her. And he missed his dad, and he was all torn up about it. But those emotions didn’t translate well for someone like Aaron Solano; they emerged as anger instead. Bloody knuckles and drunken blackouts – that’s how Aaron lived nowadays.

And even in that moment, thinking about everything, being near Eileen – Aaron couldn’t help himself. He had to shut things down – ruin the peace somehow.

“Some of your shit’s still at my place... and I need the space.” Obviously a lie, and a pretty shitty thing to say, considering she’d only left a few articles of clothing, and maybe a bottle of perfume that Aaron liked. “I can have Clara send it over. Or you can pick it up.”

Aaron was relieved to see Lillian. Family. All of the Solanos had their own shit to deal with (it must’ve been hereditary), but at the end of the day, they were family, and Aaron could usually tolerate a family member better than a stranger. They were blood. Aaron wrapped an arm around Lillian, careful not to ash any of his cigarette near her hair. “Yeah, I fucked him up pretty bad. He sent me back to LA with a souvenir,” he said, gesturing towards his bruised eye with a stupid, signature Aaron smile. 

“Yeah... wish I was gone longer. I had some shit to deal with here. Work,” he explained with a pitiful shrug. “Plus, New York’s fucking cold this time of year.” And Amy was worried. Rightfully so. “What’ve you been up to? Besides keeping Adrian and Henry in line.”

What he hadn’t expected was to just straight up find Aaron there, with no problem. He was standing on the street, and now that Max was here, he thought maybe he should just leave. Eileen had told him everything; it wasn’t like there were answers Aaron would have that Max didn’t already have himself. Except the actual reason Aaron had dumped Eileen, which even Eileen didn’t have.

So fuck it, he approached Aaron, snorting at his words. “Well, it’s the least you can do,” he said, holding out his hand. It would be easier if he had something to do with his hands. “Let me guess. The other guy looks worse?” he asked, in reference to Aaron’s eye. Which reminded Max that, yeah, Aaron also wasn’t a huge guy, but he, at least, was a boxer. And Max was… Max.

Max and Eileen were a package deal. While Aaron was with his ex, he tried hard to be civil with Max. He tried to like the guy, who somehow felt like the human embodiment of a golden retriever; blonde hair and all. But he certainly wasn’t someone who Aaron would spend his free time with. After the break up, Aaron didn’t have to pretend to like him anymore. In fact, it was probably better if he was an asshole to all of Eileen’s friends. It made their separation easier. 

‘Well, it’s the least you can do.’

Aaron rolled his eyes. It’d be easy to pick a fight with Max. It all depended on how far Aaron was pushed. 

He handed Max a cigarette and lighter. 

“Much worse,” Aaron replied, exhaling away from the blonde. He eyed Max, giving little to not thought on whatever snarky remark was about to leave his mouth. Would it even be worth it? Did it matter? Not really.

“Is Eileen close? Wherever she goes, you’re usually not far behind.” A pause. “...kinda like an annoying, desperate lap dog.”

Getting a little overwhelmed she decided to excuse herself for a moment, to take a breather and maybe smoke one of the many joints her friends had supplied. Lucia made her way towards the figure smoking outside Il Salone figuring it was safer to stand in numbers than by herself. “ No thank, I brought something of my own.” She replied, pulling the joint from her purse noticing the lack of lighter, “ But I did seem to leave behind my lighter so if I could borrow yours that’d be perfect.” 

The brunette standing in front of him was his saving grace. He’d been craving weed, though he wasn’t sure it would do much to pacify his mood. He wasn’t familiar with the woman, but she was pretty, and she had weed – what else did Aaron need?

“No problem,” Aaron replied, handing her the lighter. “You feel like sharing? All I have is shitty tobacco,” he explained. He realized bumming weed off of a stranger was ... maybe a little odd, especially since there was so much of it in LA, but Aaron was rough all around. He was fresh off of a flight from New York; it didn’t matter where he got his weed from. 

Eileen wanted to say she was fucking pissed. Mad that he left her alone with a broken heart and nothing to work with. No closure, no catharsis. Fucking nothing at all. Yet, there she stood, yearning for him all the same. Wanting to know how was doing, wondering if he was okay. Hoping at some point he changed his mind…

“Get that bruise in New York?” she asked, biting her lip. “I take it the other guy’s worse off.”

‘In between contracts.’

Aaron almost wished for more, but he’d given himself some strict rules. No keeping up with Eileen, no matter how trashed he got. No 3 AM drunken phone calls. No stalking her on Instagram. Aaron didn’t pine. Their relationship was over, and they both needed to get over it. 

“Hospital,” Aaron replied. The fight had been pretty gruesome towards the end. Aaron was taking after his father, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He flicked the ash from his cigarette. If they’d been together, Aaron would’ve smirked, wrapped an arm around Eileen and told her all about how he kicked some dude’s ass in New York. And, if they’d been together, Aaron probably wouldn’t have gone that far in the fight, anyway.

“Aren’t your friends waiting?” Aaron wondered, taking a drag from the cigarette. “I’m just waitin’ for them to come bitch me out.”

So, she went. Took a cab from her apartment most of the way, three shots of alcohol already pumping through her veins, but stopped the ride a few blocks short. Eileen wanted to walk a bit. Fresh air. It’d be good for her. 

Eileen felt a punch to her gut walking up to the club as Aaron stepped out. She hadn’t seen him since he dumped her in her doorway without any explanation. 

“Cigarette?” he offered. Eileen agreed, leaning against the brick.

“I’d say it’s nice to see ya, but…” she trailed off, eyeing the bruise, holding in every urge to reach out and touch him. “How’ve you been?”

It just had to fucking be Eileen. 

Aaron maintained eye contact with his ex-girlfriend as he pulled out a cigarette. It was hard not to notice that Eileen was dressed up. She always looked good, but it felt different now that they weren’t together. Aaron didn’t have the right to be jealous anymore, but there was nothing stopping that from happening anyway.

He bit back a stupid, bitter comment – something along the lines of calling her outfit trashy, or asking Eileen where her number one fan was (Max). 

Instead, he held it in. For now. Aaron handed her a cigarette, slapping his lighter down in the palm of her hand. He exhaled away from Eileen. It was difficult for Aaron to stand still. True to his form as a boxer, he began to pace around the sidewalk – pretty casually. 

“Fine. Just got back from New York.” 

All Aaron had to do was finish his cigarette, then he could leave. Only... he didn’t really want to. No, deep down, he wanted to stand there with Eileen and be miserable about what he’d lost, as if it were some sort of punishment. 

“You?”

He walked out of Il Salone to get some fresh air and, more importantly, smoke a cigarette. His left eye was slightly bruised, thanks to an underground fight in Brooklyn (he’d won). He heard footsteps approach, and while Aaron didn’t particularly feel like talking, he still opened his mouth.

“Cigarette?” He offered.