bloodsport ;

Sofie could have blinked and missed it. Suddenly her walk to work was a flurry of fur and coffee. Quick instincts allowed her to dodge the falling coffee though lacking in avoiding the run in all-together. If she told him, Edgar would have a field day. She could hear him already bickering about how her steady routine made her easier to track or how she should be more aware of her surroundings. She was thankful he was on the job, or she’d swear he’d fake stalk her just to give her criticism on her route of travel. It was something he’d done before.

The man’s voice brought her back to the present and she offered the man a smile as she leaned to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “I hope he enjoys it though I’m sure he’d he’d prefer just a bit of whipped cream over a caffeine boost. What’s his name?” Her head tilted back up to him as she straighten to stand. “I’d say no but I think my coworkers might riot if I go into work without some form of coffee” 

"Honestly, it looks like he’s enjoying it a little too much.  And that scares me.  Last thing he needs is more energy.” He sighed.  He had no idea the life Meatball had led before he had found him, but when things like this popped up, he really had to wonder.  What kind of dog liked coffee?  “Oh, uh, this is Meatball?”  Despite it not being a question, his voice went up at the end.  The name still felt a bit silly, but he just really couldn’t think of another name that suited the low-riding pit bull better than that.  “Or if he’s pulling crap, or doing something like, well, this--” he said with a head nod down to the dog “--Then it’s Meathead.”  Despite the name sounding a bit cruel, one could tell as Joseph looked down at the dog that he had nothing but love for it, despite the short time the two had known each other.

He chuckled softly at her comment about coworkers.  He knew the feeling well.  All mornings at the brewery had a different person assigned to get a box of coffee for everyone.  And if they forgot?  Well, they had a particular punishment for that, that included stripping and jumping off the nearby docks and into the icy Maine water.  People rarely forgot coffee anymore. 

“Well, we cant have that, because I really don’t think they’d believe you with an excuse like 'i’m sorry but a dog ate our coffee?’---Where do you get it?  The place around the corner?”

“I like the way you think, Joe. I’m going to include ‘mature palette’ in the ‘other’ section of my resume,” Olivia said before taking a sip of her drink. He truly had remembered her order. Half the time, she couldn’t even remember her own order beyond vaguely describing some of its tastes. Luckily for her, the bartenders could put two and two together. 

Olivia laid her glass down at the question. As he guessed, she regarded him with a grin. ‘Doctor? Vet? Nurse? Something else incredibly stressful?’ Her mother wished, Olivia thought. With a shake of her head, Olivia shrugged off the left side of her cardigan to flash the embroidered “Spaology” and her name tag underneath. “Not quite as fancy, or loaded with student debt,” she said, lightly shimmying the cardigan back into place, “I’m a massage therapist and a certified esthetician. It’s only stressful if you consider taking away the aches, and wrinkles from the House Wives of Hopewell to be a noble pursuit.”

"I’d consider dealing with said wives of Hopewell to be just as stressful as those other jobs.” he joked.  He rarely visited Hopewell, and in an unsurprising turn of events, citizens of Hopewell rarely offered their patronage to the brewery.  And he was just fine with it that way.  He and his partner had tried doing some business with some of the joints up there, even a few private parties, and they promised never again.  

He was about to open his mouth to ask her a question about her job, particularly the massage aspect when it struck him out of nowhere like a bolt of lightening with no cloud in the sky.  He wasn’t sure what triggered it, but he was so glad he could finally place her face, as it had felt like an itch that had been impossible to scratch.  “Oh, shit----You’re Kat’s friend, right?  Olivia...---” he paused, the rest of her name that she hadn’t already provided him with on the tip of his tongue.  “Lee?” his voice turning up at the end of her name, not completely sure and also suddenly worried how much of an asshole he’d come off as if he just put in some stereotypical sounding last name in place of her real last name.  It took him a moment before realizing he should probably offer some context, as to not seem completely insane.  “Sorry, I’m just---I’m an old friend of Kat’s” --that was one way to put it, but he wasn’t sure what Kat had said about him-- “And every time you came in here I swore I knew your face but couldn’t think of from where.  I must’ve seen some photos on her phone or some shit.”

The sun beamed down on Nancy as she sat out in the open, and she smiled, appreciating the warmth on her skin. Although she filled her lungs with chemicals on an half-hourly basis, she did enjoy the fresh air and the outdoors. But what she found herself enjoying more was the view of J. The sun caught him just right, and she admired him from afar, resting her head in her palm. She didn’t even notice she was doing that, until she thought about the way he stood and carried himself, and the way he somehow looked hot doing the most mundane of tasks. It had to be a side effect of seeing someone naked, she thought. Nothing else.

There was evidently a little wait for the food, and J’s gaze turned in Nancy’s direction. She didn’t want to look like she had been staring, so she looked away quickly. Then, deciding it would be more obvious if she didn’t acknowledge him, she looked back. With a wide grin and a sarcastic little wave, she figured she had styled it out perfectly.

He came back over, carrying more food than the two of them needed for the year. Nancy clapped her hands together and had a look at the variety. When he slid back her card, she rolled her eyes. “I woulda got it, dude. But I’m not gonna complain too much. Mostly because I need my mouth to eat,” she said, and then started to tuck in. He’d gotten a big range of the menu, so it would have been hard to go wrong, but J had somehow managed to get all of her favourite dishes. “I’m gonna be so stuffed after this. But thanks for the feast,” Nancy said, between mouthfuls. 

Picking at the different dishes, Nancy found the chicken. “You have to try this. It’s called dakgangjeong, but it’s basically like popcorn chicken. It’s so good,” she emphasised. She pierced one with her disposable fork, and held it up towards J’s mouth. “Eat.”

"My actions weren’t completely altruistic.” he admitted.  “I figured if I payed I’d get the dragon’s share of the leftovers.” he said with a grin that made him look fairly like a chipmunk, food stored in his cheeks, having already dug in.  “You know I hate cooking.”  He liked the idea of cooking, the ideology that putting care into your food inherently made it better for you, and made you more grateful for it.  And he was sure that was true, if you could actually cook.  But every time he tried, despite how much patience or attention he payed it, it always came out horrible.  It was interesting how a man who in a way, his entire job was following a recipe, could manage to fail so hard at doing just that while in a kitchen.  The staff of the Bon Appetit test kitchen would be ashamed of him.

“God bless you?”  He offered in return to the noise that Nancy made as she tried to introduce him to her new favorite.  Joseph loved pretty much any food put in front of him, especially if it was something other than your standard american fare, but that didn’t make him cultured enough to be able to pronounce it.  But despite his sarcastic response, he still opened wide and brought his mouth to the fork before wrapping his lips around it and stealing the piece of meat off it.

He took a moment to savor it, the different flavors warring over their positions on his tongue: sweet, tangy, spicy.  He wasn’t sure what was in it, all he knew was it was good.  “Dang” he moaned, practically through a full mouth, pausing for a moment to finish chewing and swallowing.  “That puts KFC to shame, that’s for damn sure.”  

“My turn.” he threatened, spoon hovering over the cartons of food, trying to find the one he had liked the best so far.  Upon finding it, he took a fairly generous scoop before holding it up, mirror her actions, except his under hand was held underneath.  “It’s like Korean style curry.  It’s spicy, but not hot.” he tried to describe. “The pork like melts in your mouth and the spices leave your tongue tingling---Just try it, trust me.”  

Olivia was never a beer girl. Call her basic, but she always preferred something that was heavy handed on the vodka and light on the juice. Even when she was a teenager living in Maywood, stealing alcohol from the gas station, beer was her least favorite. Since returning to town, she developed a little bit of a palette for a nice brew. In particular, one of the beers at Midnight Brewery was great with a plate of wings, and it was the only beer she liked at this point. 

She was still in her work scrubs, a cardigan covering the embroidered Spaology on the top left corner, and looking to avoid going back to the apartment. Kat had a rehearsal, and it felt a little too early to call it a night. Drinking alone seemed particularly lonely, though, and she was trying to convince her brother to meet her to no response. 

Olivia just finished rolling her eyes at her little brother’s lack of response when a glass scraped across the countertop. She looked down at the glass with an arch of her brow. “Liv. I’m not sure what this says about my drinking that you remember my order,” she said with a light grin, maybe she was drinking too much lately. Olivia paused to raise the glass, “To you, Joseph? Joe? Do you have a preference?”

"If it makes you feel better it’s because it’s my favorite too, and not a lot of people order it.  So I wonder what that says about our tastes.” he offered with a light shrug  “Although, I make it so I’m biased and I think it renders us to be those blessed with mature palettes.”  The last bit was accompanied by a crack of a smile, a sign that he didn’t take it that seriously.  “But Joseph, Joe, J, pretty much anything other than Joey or JJ.”  He had sworn once he heard her name it would’ve clicked for him but there was nothing, synapses firing blank on all cylinders.

It was slow enough that everyone else had been taken care of, so he figured he could spare a few more moments in an attempt to see if he could find out something else that might help make sense of her identity.

“What do you do that’s got you out here drinking alone after work?” he questioned with a raised brow, clocking the scrubs.  “Doctor?  Vet?  Nurse?  Something else incredibly stressful?”  

her eyes fixated on the driver.    In a town like Maywood,    it was hard to find strangers.    Everybody knew everybody and Kat was certain she knew this fellow.    Her sneaker scraped against the concrete as rain pattered over the hood of the steaming car.    Her tongue felt fat in her mouth as she took a step closer.    The driver leaned forward,    his chin dipping far down enough to reveal an expression.    “    I was wondering if you needed a ride,    Kitty.    ”    Kitty,    right.    It felt odd to hear her stage name in public,    even odder to have a customer linger around the laundromat by her home.    An unsettling presence hooked in her chest as she loosened her grip on the laundry basket.    Her free hand ventured towards her bra where she stored a knife.    Always for safe keeping.    She had bought it in the stale grace of dimmed lights at the theater.     After her assault,    it was better to be vigilant than a victim.

“    Hey,    man.    You can’t be following me to my house and shit.    That’s not cool.    That’s not what we do here.    ”    Kat said,    shoulders suddenly jerked back as an arm pooled around them.    If it were anyone else,    she would’ve stabbed them.    Joseph lingered beside her,    pushing off a persona that she was all too familiar with.    Usually,    he only used it when poor girls were being harassed at a bar.    His white knight Chicano.    Her gaze flickered back to the vehicle as the words slurred from his lips in such a charismatic tone.    Hey ma.

“   Look,    I was just tryna be nice,    if you have to act like a bitch about it.   ”    The driver raised both hands,    his name fleeting her memory quicker than most.    She had vague recollections of a wife and three children.    He worked in government,    but she wasn’t quite sure which office in town.

“   Ah,    yeah.    Fuck off then,    hm?    ”    Kat snapped her fingers at him,   only not approaching the vehicle because of Jay’s grip on her arm.    As the car drove off,    the brunette shrugged off his grip.    Her dark gaze pointed to him rather than the rugged Toyota.    He was out.    What time was it?    Christ,    another nightmare.    She wished she didn’t know what kept him up at night,    falling in the graces of strangers rather than a formal bed mate.    That was what she liked to refer him as.   It was easier.    Less painful to choke the idea that she loved him,    but he felt indifferent.

“    ¿Qué están haciendo en la calle a estas horas?    ”    Kat said,    adjusting her grip on her basket as glitter slicked off of her expression.    Her mascara didn’t drip,    thankful for the bout of hairspray on her expression to keep everything together.    “    Va a ponerse tiro protegiéndome.     Ven a mi casa y se secan, idiota.    ”

As he had drawn closer to her, before he had so casually tossed an arm around her (a motion which he realized felt much like putting on an old favorite shirt, only to then notice it no longer fit), and had heard her words, warning the man of boundaries, did the pieces truly click in his head.  A customer.  That had been his only problem with Kat’s job.  He was always worried about the customers, and how some of them thought that buying a dance entitled them to something more.  

While Joseph liked to think his actions, the vibes he was putting off were all an act, as bitch slid from the man’s mouth, tossed so casually out in the air, there was a small part of Joseph who if not stopped by Kat stepping forward and offering her own vulgarities in response, would have proven himself wrong.  Hands were still balled into fists as the car drove off and Kat moved herself out of his reach, Joseph having been distracted enough by biting his tongue that he hadn’t realized he hadn’t untangled himself yet.

The further the toyota grumbled out of sight, the more Joseph was able to pull himself back together, feeling much like the persona he put on had burst forth, scattering parts of who he considered the real him all over the sidewalk, and it took him a moment to pick them all back up and reassemble himself.

He shook his head as she probed him on exactly why he was out, as if she didn’t know.  He knew for a fact a number of times he had left her in bed in the early hours, only to be asked where he had been when he returned.  

“ Sabes lo que estoy haciendo.” he said with a shrug, before eyes flicked from hers down to his feet where his sneakers scuffed the wet sidewalk.  He had always preferred English to Spanish, mostly due to the fact that he knew because of the way he had learned his mother’s language that it didn’t sound exactly right coming out of his mouth. “ Sobreviví a South Central L.A., creo que estoy bien en Maywood. “ he scoffed.  “ Además, ya me han disparado una vez. Sería muy mala escritura para que suceda de nuevo.” He finished with a chuckle, referring to his life as if it were a movie with a plot, a climax, a happy ending.  

He was going to object, figuring it was probably best if he just went home, but as the sky rumbled, threatening to open up even more, he knew unless he was looking to get fried, he had better take her up on her offer.  “Fine, lead the way.” he wasn’t sure if she still lived in the same place anymore, after her time away.

One thing that Sutton was not..shy. While she had her lonely moments as a kid, she still managed to grow up being a fairly outgoing person. While sometimes it bite her in the ass over the years, for the most part, Sutton was proud of that personality trait of hers. “I’ve heard that’s a fairly popular flavor. I’ve never had it myself though but maybe one day.” she shrugged. “Let’s see’ she thought fora minute. “The classic chocolate chip is good. But then again when is chocolate not good. Honestly I say you can’t go wrong with anything chocolate.” she smiled. “Rocky road, moose tracks, even plain chocolate, all of them are great.”

Joseph was the owner of one very strong sweet tooth, and while he tried not to indulge it too much, some days cravings just had to be given into, which is how he found himself across town at Happy Scoops.  As the girl continued on and on about her favorite flavors he almost had to wonder if she worked there but was just off shift.  She seemed fairly passionate about ice cream, that was for sure.  “So obviously you’re a chocolate fan?” he questioned.  “Do you like...Work here or something?  Seem pretty knowledgeable about ice cream.”  He wasn’t even sure what was in moose tracks.

“You found a stray? Dude, that’s so cool!” Nancy said, before taking another toke on her cigarette. It was a bad habit, but one she couldn’t kick. Although, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to. Something about having a cigarette in her hand made her feel calmer, and kind of sophisticated and sexy. What was this, the fucking nineties? Did she think she was Kate Moss? “You got any pics?” she asked on the exhale. “You need to take it in. And it absolutely has to be called Meatball. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She continued walking, stubbing her cigarette out once she spotted the stand up ahead. Taking J’s arm in hers excitedly, she pulled him closer, taking in a deep breath so as to smell the food in the air. “Doesn’t this smell amazing?” she asked, as they joined the small queue at the stand. Popping her head to one side, she skimmed down the menu on the side of the tent, trying to figure out what she wanted. It was hard to decide on one thing when everything on the menu sounded good. The people ahead of them stepped to one side, and cleared the way for J and Nancy to get ordering.

“You order,” she said to J, holding out a hand. “I can’t choose - just get me anything. It’s all good. I’m gonna go steal that bench over there before those guys do.” She pulled her card out of her pocket and stuffed it into J’s hand, meaning to pay for them both - she’d only been kidding earlier. Then, with a smirk, Nancy darted towards the lone empty table set up around the tent. 

"I mean, it was pretty fucked up, to be honest.  Thing was not lookin’ so hot.”  The thought still made him hot beneath the collar.  He didn’t get how anyone could treat an animal poorly, let alone cruelly.  He had unfortunately seen his fair share of it, back home, and each time he got just as mad, if not more so each time.  “Took him over to Gilmore Veterinarian over in Hopewell, and well just told ‘em to give me a call if they couldn’t find a chip.” He said with a shrug.  “Animal control says it can stay with me and I can keep it if no owner comes forward in 30 days.---I’d like to talk to them if they do.”  the last words were muttered angrily, more to himself than to anyone else.  “Nah, not yet, but you can come with when I pick ‘em up from the vet.  See the meathead for yourself.” he offered, nudging her shoulder with his own slightly.

As she continued to puff on the cigarette, Joseph had the sudden urge to start smoking.  Or perhaps he wanted to be the cigarette.  He wasn’t sure.  But as she stubbed it out, the vision was lost and drifted from his mind, much like the smoke from the very same cigarette, now left behind as she pulled him away and towards their destination.  “God, if being close to Portland gets us these types of trucks, imagine living in Portland.  I’d be 500 pounds.” he groaned, his stomach suddenly feeling incredibly empty as the smells of the truck surrounded the two.  He followed her motions and fairly easily read the menu, her head not even being close to blocking his view.  

Always the fast mover, before Joseph even had the chance to ask Nancy what she was thinking, she was gone, off to mark their territory.  He couldn’t help but chuckle, but with a shake of his head he slid her card into his pocket, before pulling out cash of his own to pay.  She may have suggested the place, but he was the one who swung around the shop looking for company.  

It took a few moments for the food to come out, Joseph’s eyes slipped between the street (an old habit) and Nancy, finding her the most interesting of the two to observe.  He couldn’t really describe why, but there was something about her, something she put out into the world that made it seem as if the world bent to her, or was open to her or...Well, something.  Joseph was never one for words anyways.  

Bringing over the food, Joseph swung his leg over to straddle the bench to face Nancy before dropping the food on the table.  “Alright so....Sorta got a bit of everything?  I dunno man, you left me to my own defenses, I don’t know what you wanted from me.” he defended himself, before sliding her her un-used credit card across the table, with a small shake of his head to let her know that she had lost the battle of the bill.

Sofie was pretty set in her morning routine. First stop between her apartment and work would always be a local cafe. The owner was personable and knew her by name, even offered her a bit of conversation over coffee and scones. Today however the man looked a bit busy so she offered him a quick wave as she scooped up her coffee to head out the door. “Have a good day Mr. Moretti!” Offering him a smile she turned blindly down the corner toward work…right into an innocent passerby. Instantly her ears burned red, “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry..I was not paying attention”

@maywoodstarters​

Joseph was still getting used to the whole ‘having a dog’ routine, and after working the bar the night before at the brewery, found himself being pulled out at what he considered an ungodly time by his new companion.  “Oh, c’mon Meatball.  How can such a stubby ass legged dog like you walk so fast?”  He groaned, being pulled behind the aforementioned ‘Meatball’ (it had started out as a nickname, but upon the encouragement of Nancy, the name had stuck).  

Despite usually working fairly early in the morning, the late night had messed him up considerably and his eyes were squinted against the bright light of the mid morning sun, enough so that between his limited eye sight, a blind corner and the distraction of Meatball, Joseph found himself on the wrong end of a coffee.

Thankfully, only a few splashes landed on him (and mercifully, weren’t scalding), while the rest careened towards the ground.

“Nah, nah, that was me--” he argued, instinctively bending towards the ground as if to pick up a dropped item to only realize in his tired stupor that he couldn’t exactly ‘pick up’ coffee, so instead returned with cup and cover held pitifully in his hands.  “Can I get you a refill?---” he looked down, only to see Meatball lapping up what was on the sidewalk “Seeing as my dog is drinking yours?”  As if the damn dog needed anymore energy.

At least once a week, Joseph liked to get behind the bar.  Most of his time was spent in the actual brewery, and during the morning, so he rarely got to interact with customers and find out how the actual product was being received.  Thus, his bar nights.  He also liked to see if he could catch any familiar faces, knowing that a business’ foundation was built on regulars.  One face in particular stuck out to him and he couldn’t exactly figure out why. 

But he figured he’d find out tonight, as he saw her at the end of the bar, no drink in front of her.  He found it funny that he couldn’t remember why he knew her face, but could remember her drink.  Sliding it in front of her, he paused, before sticking out his hand. 

“Joseph.” he offered, not only hoping that her name might spark his memory, but also finding it only polite to know someone’s name before he practically led an inquisition on how they were liking the beers he spent so much time formulating, tweaking, and making.

&& TASK 001

WHERE: Happy Scoop’s Ice Cream

OPEN: to everyone

One of the best things about the warmer weather coming was Sutton’s craving of cold treats. After closing up her store for the evening, she decided to give into her craving and stop by Happy Scoop’s Ice Cream. Once she entered, Sutton wouldn’t help but look through all the offered flavors even if she already had a few favorites in mind. As she waited for her cone, she turned to the person next to her in line. “So what’s your flavor choice for today?”

The dichotomy in the aesthetic between Joseph and the shop he stood in was almost comical, and to say he stood out against the whimsical decoration style would be an understatement.  His nearly all black outfit cut a stark figure against the clean white of the walls that surrounded the ice cream counter.  Despite his fairly friendly nature, due to both his style choices and tattoos from a misspent youth and newly minted ink addiction, he was used to people avoiding eye contact, or any contact, so he was a bit surprised as he was spoken to.  It took him a moment to respond, having been caught off guard.  He sucked his teeth while thinking before finally answering the young woman’s question.  “I think it’s a strawberry type of day.  Unless you can suggest something better?” he responded with a shrug, feeling a flight of fancy.  “What about you?”

“Because you love me,” Nancy said, shaking her head and throwing her hands up in the air. She then softly hit his shoulder with her balled up fist, a sign that she was just kidding. Of course, she should have known J could read her like a book. Even though they hadn’t known each other for the longest time, Nance couldn’t imagine her life without him, because they just got on so well. Back on the west coast, Nancy had spent most of her time surrounding herself with people she vibed with, people who got her. She’d planned to replicate that in Maywood, but it was hard to find people on her wavelength. J was the exception.

“You got me, you got me,” she said, holding her hands up. “But it was worth a shot, right? Anyway, I feel like Korean street food. There’s this great place down the street that just opened up. Or chicken wings, if you don’t feel like branching out.” The woman shrugged on an oversized knit cardigan as she spoke, then grabbed her purse and made way for the front door. The shop was quiet enough today that she could just skip out without any hassle, which she appreciated. Outside, it was a sunny (ish) day, and Nancy smiled, then reached into her bag and pulled out a cigarette. As she lit it and inhaled, she turned to J. “So what’ve you been up to… since I last saw you, a day ago?”

"Mhm, keep thinkin’ that.”  he laughed, loving how their conversations were mostly made up of an endless back and forth, but one that felt easy rather than a competition of wits.  He had been involved in his fair share of relation and friendships like that, especially in his younger days and god were they exhausting.  As he got older, he really started to appreciate friendships like his and Nancy’s, despite having only known each other for less than a year, he felt like he had known her for three times that. At least.  It was a rarity to settle into a friendship so quickly, so it was something he cherished. 

Almost as if telepathic when Nancy suggested the niche idea of ‘korean street food’ as if she could read his mind before even he had known that’s what he had wanted.  “Oooh, shit.  Yes.  I’m so down.  Bring me to the bulgogi.”  he responded eagerly, his hands in a prayer position in front of his chest as he tailed her on their way out of the shop.

“Alright, for once, surprisingly I actually have something to report.  Found a stray pittie outside the brewery the other night and to be honest if no one claims it...It’s mine.  It looks like a meatball and I will need some serious convincing not to name it that.”

@maywoodstarters​    ,        outside wash & repeat

it was three in the morning.    Of course,    that wasn’t a track record or anything in this town.    After all,    time was meaningless.     Time meant nothing as the florescent lights trickled over the glitter on her cheek.    Kat blinked as sleep tugged her down.    She plucked a garment from the bin,    folding what she could with such little fabric.    It was always a show to appear at the twenty-four hour laundry mat in town.    She was lucky it was so close to her apartment,    given the fact that she couldn’t drive anymore.    Not after her last DUI.    Maywood PD were pretty vigilant in ensuring that she didn’t drive for a while.    Her fingers netted against  the last garment,    placing it back in the bin as she moved from the folding table.    Her dark eyes traced the empty store,    an uneasy feeling settling in her belly.

She hated being alone.    Her tongue pressed against her cheek as she pulled the cart along,    leaving it at the door as she plucked up the basket of laundry.    Her shoulders slumped over the weight as her sneakers squeaked against the wet cement.    Fuck,    since when was it raining?    Her gaze squinted towards the area before blowing a heap of a sigh.    It’s fine.    She’ll hang it up by the plants when she got home.    The brunette took a step forward,    letting the water trickle down her cheek,    washing away any sense of her work makeup.    What she didn’t expect was for someone to stop.    Dim lights flickered as the car pulled up beside her.    As the window rolled down,    the brunette scoffed.

“    I’ve seen enough Dateline episodes to know where this is going, bub.    ”

Late night walks weren’t completely out of the norm for Joseph.  Sometimes he’d awake with a start, a dream having disturbed him enough that forced him into consciousness.  He could never remember what they were about, although he had a fairly good idea.  And then the pain would start.  It always began as a pin point in his back, and he was fairly sure if someone were to hold their finger over it, they’d be x marks the spot on a fairly nasty exit wound from a decade and another life time ago.  The pain would slowly get less specific and more diffused as it worked it’s way over his entire left side, and it was at that point Joseph always found him throwing on a shirt and shoes and hitting the pavement.  And he’d walk until it didn’t hurt anymore.  Sometimes that was twenty minutes, sometimes it was two hours.  He had never been able to get a straight answer on whether the pain was physical or psychosomatic, although at this point he guessed it didn’t really matter.

It wasn’t until rain splattered against tanned skin did he realize just how far he had gone, all the way to Cedar Creek this time.  Despite the time of year, the Maine rain still had the ability to chill someone down to the bone, so in efforts to avoid it, Joseph ducked under an awning, figuring he could wait it out.  The fluorescents of the laundromat across the way cast a lurid glow upon a person exiting it’s safe harbor.  He paid them no attention, not wanting to seem as if he was staring, something that could most definitely be misconstrued at this time of night by someone who looked like him.  He knew the vibe his appearance put off, and despite it’s inaccuracy to his true self, he knew he couldn’t rely on that.  

His eyes watched as a car pulled up, and as a voice rung out, he sighed.  Kat.  Granted, he had no idea of the identity of the driver, but having grown up where he did, and hearing her tone, Joseph assumed the worst, and quickly crossed the street.  Better to be safe than sorry.  The same vibe he sometimes worried about putting off could also come in handy in times like these.  In a frighteningly fast moment, Joseph had adopted the persona he used to wear all those years ago, and as he strutted towards Kat and the vehicle, the tall but slender man seemed to grow in size, his facial expression and gait changing with every step he took.

He wasn’t sure if Kat saw him approach, and if it were anyone else his next moves wouldn’t have been as friendly, but in an attempt to ward off whoever was in the car, he threw his arm around the shoulder of the woman he had once known so well with a greeting somewhere along the lines of ‘Hey ma’, before dipping his head slightly to get a look at the driver.  

“We good here? You need somethin’?”  It was an odd, almost quiet confidence he had learned from hanging around the wrong type of guys.  A confidence that screamed ‘fuck with me, because no matters what happens next i’ll enjoy it’, that said no consequences could stop from doing whatever he wanted.

where: gilmore veterinarian who: open @maywoodstarters​

Mornings were usual quiet at the clinic, it was mostly doing check ups from the following night and filling in the clinical histories from their patients, so when River heard the doorbell ring and no animal crying, which usually indicated nothing was too urgent, she took a single second to make sure everything was left alright behind the door that went to the rooms where all the animals were “I’ll be there in a second” She shouted out as she checked on a kitten’s vitals, he’d been brought in late at night after being hit by a scooter. Pushing the door with her back, the dirty blonde removed her gloves and threw them in a safety bin, squirting a bit of hand sanitizer on her hands before addressing the  person behind the counter “Hi, I’m sorry for the delay, I’m River, what can I do for you today?”

Just two days prior, Joseph had thought he was about to be mugged while  taking out the trash at the brewery, having heard a sound and immediately assuming the worst.  Instead, he had found a fairly mangled dog.  Instantly, his heart broke for the small thing, and found himself rushing it to Gilmore Veterinarian across town.  He told them to give him a call if they couldn’t find a chip, and he’d figure something out.  A call came and apparently that ‘something’ was Joseph caving and taking the damn thing home himself.  Even after picking up a dog bed, food, toys and other necessities, as Joseph walked through the door he couldn’t believe he was doing this.  But with a steady job, good hours, and honestly the need for company, it seemed like it might’ve been meant to be.  Not to mention he had a soft spot in his heart for pitbulls, both him and the breed having the issue of people judging the covers of their so called ‘books’, before getting to know them. 

“Oh, uh--Hey.  I dropped off a stray I found a couple days ago.  Didn’t have a chip and animal control said I could sorta foster it until like a certain amount of days for the owner to come forward passed or something?” His voice went up at the end, questioningly, as the entire process was somewhat foreign to him.  “Uh, honestly, not sure if it‘s a boy or a girl, don’t even know what y’all put it in under. It’s a pit, but it‘s a cute lil’ lowrider, about...” he gestured to about a foot and a few inches of the counter ‘--yea high, and is like a mix of browns?”  He paused, before realizing he had never really said what he was doing here “Anyways, uh got a call that they’re all stitched up and I’m here to pick them up?  Oh, an uh, my name is Joseph Hernández-Lewis, if you need that.”