ASH AND BONE.

“Oh, no, please,” Sara says, waving his apology away with her hand. She has to stop herself from once again launching into something long and rambling– by the looks of it, if she did, Romeo would flee into the other room and bolt the door shut behind him. “You aren’t crashing anything,” she smiles, perhaps a little too brightly, as if to prove she’s telling the truth. “Please,” she says it again, like this is her home and he is the guest: “Stay.”

She could easily say more, but she leaves it at that, noting the unwavering look of apprehension on his face.

Sara knows virtually nothing about Romeo, the bits and pieces she gathered from Hutch revealing very little about him. She’s left with only two tangible pieces of knowledge: that he’s new to Blackrock, and that he keeps to himself. Of coursre, she can’t really blame him for the latter– it would be tough to be a newcomer anywhere, let alone a place like this. Imagine moving to a new place, only to find it wracked with pain and fear?– but that said, if she were in his position, she would be grateful for a friend.

“I’ve been listening to Hutch’s stories for almost twenty years,” she tells him, crossing the length of the living room to settle into her usual spot on the couch. “It’d be nice to hear some new ones.” She smiles again, though this time it’s a lot less forced. 

“So, Romeo,” she continues, getting comfortable in her seat. “Where are you from?”

He thought her to be thoughtful and honest, though they were complete strangers to one another. Almost... like she could know something if she looked hard enough, sought out information from the depths of his eyes and soul. But of course that’s not how it usually went with strangers, and Romeo was far from opening up to just anyone. He was half off the sofa at that point, ready to leave Hutch and his friend alone for the night. Only after her reassurances did he scoot back again, if only a little.

The prospect of yet another chance encounter with a stranger in Hutch’s house could have had him on the floor. If he didn’t know any better he’d think they were seeking him out, like he was some type of hermit creature that could see the future. “I have a couple,” although he never told them verbatim how he experienced them. “Ah, Arizona. Phoenix, I was born there.” But the jump from home to home often placed him elsewhere.

It had become a crutch. No one needed to speak about the elephant in the room that only came around whenever Logan was there, choosing to feed into the addictions that made it easier to ignore everything. Feed the beast, so to speak, and dull the senses until nothing mattered or bothered Logan beneath the surface. As she ordered another drink to replace the empty glass that was pushed back towards the bartender, Logan’s attention was stolen back towards the walking beer stain that parked itself to her side and reeked even as she acted as if she couldn’t smell anything. Instead of commenting, she slid him her own napkin to try and help the smell. “Sure you didn’t,” she told him, eyes shifting back towards the other that smelled as bad him considering they shared the same drink on both of their clothes but she could sense that it wasn’t over. Not by the growing murmurs of distemper from the other side of the room as she shifted her weight to one leg as she leaned against the bar top with an elbow. “Though you might want to head that way ‘cause it doesn’t look like you’re out of the woods yet.”

With that he had learned so far of Hutch, the town, and Hutch’s first and foremost roommate, he had ended up in a great place. Regardless, it wouldn’t have been his first choice to end up on someone’s couch, but since there was nothing else he could’ve done, it felt like a safe bet. Which… there had been times when Zach had accepted kindness from strangers that had not ended well. But he still believed that people were good, kind, just. 

“Yeah, uhm, it was dripping very small amounts of water,” he explained, picking up the tools and closing the cupboards. “But I cleaned it up and reattached it, so it should be good for now.” He turned back to Romeo. “Not that I really have any knowledge on plumbing, but I’ve seen people do it before,” he continued explaining. Then he spotted the coffee mug in Romeo’s hand. “Can I make you some more?” he asked, gesturing. 

He could put himself in Zach’s shoes if he really wanted to. He could feel his pain, truly empathize with him and his situation. Crashing on couches wasn’t a foreign concept to Romeo, even if he hadn’t done it by the generosity of friends. He had no true friends, at least, that’s how he felt. Not when he travelled, searching for new place after new place, only to feel like an alien most times. If he wasn’t being ignored he was the center of attention. In Blackrock it was a little bit of both, but the hostility was potent. At first. “Did he ask you to fix it?” Romeo was curious to see if this new face had been acting out of kindness. Human beings were... complicated, and couldn’t be boiled down to good or evil.

[ drunk ]  my muse takes care of your very drunk muse  +  [ piggyback ]  my muse gives yours a piggyback ride

It’d been a long night, the both of them drinking and hustling over assholes in pool. It’s what Romeo did when he couldn’t find a job in a new place or when he moved along too quickly, creating quite an unsavory reputation for himself in bars on the outskirts of various towns. He stood by the fact that it was much easier to be a con-artist in cities, where he could barhop night to night and scout for the best subjects. He didn’t like to call them victims, because that’d lead him to the conversation he’d been avoiding for years. Was he a victim? Had he been wronged, or was it his own fault?

Before Romeo had any say in the matter, Mar had flung herself onto his back in the middle of the bar. He had to adjust, his eyes wide from being caught off guard as he stumbled backwards in an attempt to keep them both upright. They eventually, now literally attached at the hip, made it back to the bar top where their drinks sat unattended. Romeo gave a scout send off to the bartender after setting down a few bills as gracefully as he could. His feet carried them both toward the door with the bright exit sign above it.

She said something about fresh air as soon as his foot stepped through the threshold, to which Romeo took the opportunity to look up at the sky for the first time in a long time. He’d finally come to be preoccupied with the people around him, and not a bleak fantasy in his head. The stars seldom had his company now. He didn’t notice as Mar’s head tilted back, too, mimicking his own movements — not until he turned and subsequently smacked her head against the door’s frame. 

date: november 27th location: near twilight cinema

The past is always on his mind. It’s the hand that’s been dealt to him – the way they had to grow up, it’s impossible for life to not weigh him down. But still, he doesn’t make a habit of keeping pieces of his life around with him. Moving from house to house, they were discouraged from carrying too many things with them, which meant photos were a rarity. 

But recently – after his visit with Sara – he’d come to find an old photo of him. He and Noah are very young in the picture, and they’re standing with the other foster kids, though he remembers none of them. But there is a boy in the corner of that same photograph, and Connor realizes that he recognizes the face. He knows he’s most likely wrong, but he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. 

It’s brought him to Twilight Cinema, wandering around the area until he sees the person he’s been looking for. Immediately, and without much shame, he walks straight up to Romeo and makes himself known.

“Can we talk? I – I have to show you something.” 

He could not count the number of times he chose to mind his own business, only to have it ruined by someone with an ulterior motive. Nothing was sacred anymore, not even a man with a shady, mysterious past out for a walk in a small town that was most definitely not where he grew up. Romeo couldn’t envision the person he’d be if he had Blackrock in his veins.

Lost were the memories of his many homes over the years, if they could even be called that. He didn’t consider them homes; he never wanted to be there, nor did he think he could ever possibly belong. No matter how hard he tried, home was a place he didn’t know. It didn’t matter if it was his own fault, living with reckless abandon to ensure he’d be independent forever. If he couldn’t imagine himself as a Blackrock native, he couldn’t envision himself with a real family and a place to call home.

Time: November 21st, early afternoon Location: Ugly Mug

Noah’s days off were – generally uneventful. Sleep late. Eat. Sleep some more. Surface enough to confirm no one’s died or gone missing. Maybe stick around for dinner. Sleep or scamper off to the Last Drop. Don’t sleep enough before the morning shift. Call it restlessness, or newfound curiosity in the rest of the town, but Noah doesn’t think he’s ever made it out of bed this early – and certainly not this far into town. There is, blessedly, at least one familiar face he can slip across from, caffeine injection in hand.

“Romeo – right?”

“Oh, alcohol blows everything outta proportion.” That was a lesson she’d learned early, and she could hear the way it echoed in her voice, a certain dark-timbred resonance to it that she’d never quite been able to rid herself of. Could he hear it, too? “But Johnny’s the one that got them into this mess,” she said, “– ‘f we’re lookin’ at the, uh. Well, Johnny slept with that man’s wife.” Mar gestured with her knuckles to the other one, fists still flying across the parking lot.

“–– Might still be pissed ‘f I was Johnny, though.” It was a shrug of her shoulders, tousling her dark hair. “Don’t know why shit happened the way it did between the two of ‘em. Or between Johnny and her.” Between any of them.

She got the distinct sense that he was doing his best to blend in, to not stick out – and truth was he did a good job of it, too; his problem was that she’d already seen him, and now she refused to look away.

“–– You’re new in town, right?”

“I’m Mar.”

He smiled, truly and toothily this time. Her statement wasn’t one that held many good memories with it, not for her, nor for anyone he assumed. Romeo had never seen a drunk person occupy the space in a perfect way — they were always messy, looking to cause trouble, or hoping someone would pay attention to them. The state of mind, inebriation... reminded him of himself. Just a child looking for approval, all the while doing everything he could to ruin his chances of being seen in a positive light.

“You could ask,” he skipped the pretense of we, mostly because he didn’t want to egg on the two men, nor get involved in their fight. “It’s not really our business, you think they’d be happy to make some new friends?” He could imagine the very sitcom-like conversation that would ensue.

DATE: November something okay leave me alone LOCATION: Hutch’s house

It feels like the clock is staring him down as he struggles to get the last bit of paperwork done for the day. He had planned to be home an hour ago, off work two hours ago. He had made what had constituted as plans with Romeo. A short text this morning on his way out. Dinner? 

The plan he had made in his head had involved some amount of cooking, some vegetable and some cooking. Instead, he was on the phone to the local Chinese restaurant ordering General Tso’s and a veggie lo mein because he suddenly could not remember if Romeo had ever mentioned being a vegetarian or not. He added a couple of orders of spring rolls and edamame and pretended he wasn’t suddenly incredibly concerned he didn’t know anything about his roommate’s eating habits.

He struggled through the door an hour and thirty minutes later than when he told Romeo silently cursing himself. “Romeo?” Hutch called through the house. “Sorry, I’m late. I brought Chinese.”

Romeo had lost track of time, to say the least. It wasn’t until the front door opened that he found himself glancing at the antique clock on the wall. Damn, over an hour late. If he had any ill resolve he’d say so, but he wasn’t one to nitpick, especially not when it came to Hutch. He offered, after all, and Romeo stopped biting the hand that fed him a long time ago.

“Thanks,” he almost muttered something like ‘I’m vegan’ just to get a reaction, but Hutch’s eyebrows were drawn in like he was guilty of something. Being late, sure, but it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. He realized he hadn’t moved from hit spot, like he was afraid to meet the man, like it was a job interview or some other occasion he’d rather skip out on. His feet finally trudged forward, at the table in a matter of seconds. “D’you order in a lot? Busy pretty often, right?” Saving baby chicks from lime disease or whatever.

Location: Hutch’s kitchen Time: 21st of November

Zach was aware of Hutch having a roommate, he was aware that Hutch might not have told said roommate of him staying over. But Zach didn’t think it was going to be a problem, not as long as he was also actively searching for another place to stay. Sadly Blackrock didn’t have a big homeless problem like Seattle. Meaning he was forced to sleep on couches instead of making a little money to get himself a bed in a homeless center. 

He was fixing the leaking on the draining pipe in the kitchen when he heard the door open. He didn’t react right away, but fixed the problem first. His father had always left Zach alone with the plumbers and other workers who came to the house to fix things, and Zach’s curious eyes had always been met with welcomed explanations.

Happy with his work, he sat back up and turned on the tap. For now there seemed to be no leakage, so he closed the cupboards back up, turning to the door to find not Hutch but the other roommate standing in the doorframe. 

“Hi,” he said with a kind smile. “I’m Zachariah. Your roommate let me sleep on the couch, I don’t know if he told you.” 

The coffee in his cup was cold, he’d let the liquid sit unattended to for a copious amount of time, all the while very conscious of the fact. He didn’t mean to be so wasteful, he just didn’t think he’d make any negative impact letting one cup of coffee go unconsumed. Romeo would happily down a gallon of it another day when he inevitably got two hours of sleep from his overactive imagination. That, or he just felt odd choosing to sleep at all.

He twirled the keyring on his index finger, only a few steps from the front door of Hutch’s house. He knew now not to turn the doorknob too hard or his key would get stuck, he could only ask Hutch so many times before the situation got embarrassing. The door swung open with ease, and he had a second to himself before he was greeted by an unfamiliar face.

Hutch calls Sara at work and asks her to come over for dinner. She almost declines, out of a hearty mix of pure exhaustion and an unusual bout of laziness, but he dangles the promise of Chinese food– her favorite– in front of her, so she accepts. She drives to his house straight from work, still in her office attire, to find his car has not yet made it in the driveway. ( Luckily, he gave her a key years ago, for more or less the same reason. Sara is so committed to punctuality it often makes her unacceptably early. )

She lets herself in, takes her shoes off by the front door, and wanders into the living room like she lives there. She’s visited enough times to no longer behave like a guest, but in the midst of her subconscious routine, she must’ve forgotten that Hutch no longer lives by himself. His roommate– Romeo?– is sitting on the couch when she enters.

“Oh!” Sara exclaims, just as shocked to see him as he must be to see her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was home.” That’s exactly what a burglar would say. She explains herself further: “I’m Sara– Hutch’s friend? I, uh, have a key,” she adds, waving it vaguely through the air. “He asked me to come for dinner, but I must’ve beaten him. His car’s not out front…” She can tell she’s rambling now, so she stops herself, offers him a smile. 

“It’s Romeo, right?” 

Romeo always made himself at home. It was a far cry from his beginning manners, almost timid as he entered the place he now called home for the first time. He didn’t bother to take off his shoes, though, not like his new guest. He can’t help but lean back, his elbows no longer taking up residency on his knees as he contemplated every single move he made that day. Why he even felt it necessary to watch his back in a town like Blackrock was beyond him... other than the obvious accusatory actions that had followed him since the day he arrived. It was hard, and he knew that, but Blackrock was more difficult than he expected it to be.

His eyes take their time rising from the floor, from his hands, his bitten down nails. He only glances at her, smiles in the least bit welcoming way until she has time to justify her sudden presence. Only he doesn’t care, mostly because he didn’t own the place and wasn’t responsible for keeping it in tip top shape. But that was selfish, he had to agree, and work out that she didn’t seem very threatening, or didn’t make herself out to be.

she scoffed. clover was so used to traipsing around hutch’s life and he around hers that the idea of someone thinking she would bring any sort of intentional harm to him was laughable. “like there’s literally anything to rob in this apartment,” she gestured to the room. “and i doubt there’s anything of yours that i’d want.”

She pushed the tip of her tongue against the back of her teeth as she thought about it, jaw clenching subtly with strained tension, green eyes dark in the dim light as she watched the scene unfold before them. “Don’t think a man would be gettin’ pummeled quite like that if he hadn’t done something,” she said, glancing at the not-quite-stranger beside her.

“But deserving it is..” Mar pursed her lips. “Relative, I think.” Consequence and payback – she had been at the receiving end about as much as she had been it, acting the part of Nemesis, bloodied fists held aloft like scales come to collect.

She shrugged, dark hair shifting over the curve of her shoulders. “Heard something ‘bout it being related to that man’s wife,” she said, pointing to the one that wasn’t Johnny. Who, speaking of, was bleeding from the nose, a thin stream of it trickling down past his lips. “– You think he deserves it? ‘Takes two to tango’, or is it still relative?”

Romeo could speculate. Men fought like dogs, uselessly and for attention. He would know, he was one of them, basking in the very painful realization that life was not perfect. He had to take a closer look at them, be the nosy nuisance he knew he could be, but first he glanced at her, the stranger that sought out his opinion like a moth drawn to a flame.

A shrug rolled off his shoulders. “You don’t think alcohol’s blowing it out of proportion?” He didn’t want to discount her words, so he nodded. Everything was relative. “For all we know he’s got the wrong guy, had one too many.” Romeo smiled, if only a little.

A strange, lopsided smile broke over Noah’s face – slowly at first, enough for him to hide it behind another long drag and exhale. He gave Romeo another once over, taking in the set of his shoulders and the curve of his spine; the way he looked at Noah and the town spread out around them like a fucking buffet. 

“Virgin, got it,” he nodded, like he didn’t also feel the same strange trepidation – a drip from his throat down to the hollow of his stomach. Noah wouldn’t have come at all if the morning set-up hadn’t made him feel useful. “Well, for what it’s worth, half the games are rigged and the candles are over-priced. But the Maple Supreme is, weirdly, really good? Should probably make a dentist appointment before you order one, though.”

He hadn’t bothered to stop the half laugh, half cough that fell from his lips. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was goin’ for.” Romeo had to open his eyes a little wider, ignore the stinging from the bite of cold air. “Maple Supreme? Is that like a donut — funnel cake?” His face blossomed in questionable expression.

clover walked into the apartment as if she lived there, setting her bag down on the kitchen counter. she knew the place pretty well at this point, even if she was spending all her time at sam’s place.

“yeah, the one i had is at my dad’s place and i can’t go get it,” she said. “hutch’ll understand. he probably won’t even know it’s gone.”

They considered the question. Helped them? Maybe at times, though Raine liked to think they had extended their help to Hutch many times as well. Perhaps just as much, probably not just as kindly. “We were in the same boat for a while, got ghosted by the same person,” Raine explained. “So I guess we helped each other,” they added. Not that they had ever really gotten over the situation, and neither had Hutch probably, but they had been there for each other, in their own ‘let’s not talk about it’ ways. 

They chuckled in response. “Town saint for sure,” they repeated. “An ad in the paper? Makes sense, Hutch’s been in that damned house by himself for way too long. Glad he got someone to share it with. So, what’re you thoughts on our dumb little Harvestfest?” They imagined what it would be like if they could not be paranoid with every single new individual that strode into town. Would it always be like this? Just meaningless conversation? 

If Romeo were twelve again he’d be envious of the way they seemed so comfortable with their past. Growing up in the system, he had come to know an unstable, fast paced state of change. Permanency wasn’t a close friend he could call by name, but instead a stranger, one he imagined had better things to do than take on a charity case. “Solidarity in shared suffering, almost wish I was in on that.” He shrugged his shoulders back in a way of listening. For one, Romeo was sure he wouldn’t exit the conversation without warning. That meant something, at least.