---- CODE OF HONOR.

It’s probably be smell. Out of all my senses, I definitely think that’s the one I could live without. Because while there’s some amazing smells in life, there’s equally some not so great ones. Would I go out of my way to do so? Nah. I could always see a little better, but I’ve learned to live with that one. So.

“Slightly off topic, but I’d truly love to know what Karen pissed someone off this bad that every person with said name is now collectedly gathered in with this trope.” He mumbled, then shrugging, he looked back over at the girl who was clearly trying her best to get on with her day in the best mood possible. Admirable if nothing else. Glancing back over at Sutton, “Serious question, -- if someone walked up to you and offered you up, lets say, enough to possibly pay off a semester or two; and told you it was their tip for the wonderful coffee... would you be offended?” He asked, genuinely curious as he wasn’t always the best with social cues. Sometimes what seemed generous to him, might absolutely be offensive to someone else.

“Probably, but I mean -- damn, there has gotta be a line.” He responded, as he looked back over at the poor barista whom day was at the peak of it’s worse. “No damn aesthetic is worth a coffee thrown at someone. And you and me both, to be honest.” Looking back at Sutton, he smiled softy, “In fact, I’m thinking I’m about to make her day ten times better. What would you say? Looks like she may be a college student, right?”

A genuine smile crossed the male’s features as his friend spoke her next statement. A chuckle escaping in the same instance, if almost to say he couldn’t believe her. “Are you going to throw me over your shoulder and force me to abide to these new rules?” He asked, amused at the sentiment, while still grateful for it. “Don’t know Cam, unless you tie me to this bed, I don’t see that being a thing. I’ve got so much work to catch on. But I could really use an extra shot of expresso, so if you’re up for coffee, it’s on me.”

Another step, closing the distance between them, and quiet possibly opening the line for the slap she had mentioned. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right now, or to even really care to listen. If I were you, I probably wouldn’t either.” He said, as he now stood mere inches from her. Brown hues staring down at her, the realization of just how much he had actually missed having her around the last week consumed him. He liked Zahra, there had been something about her that had stuck with him, and he couldn’t seem to shake that. Nor did he care to. “I would like to remind you that I don’t always suck. And despite what I’ve shown this last week, I don’t wanna shell out a bunch of excuses. Personally, I don’t ever see the point in that.” This he truly did believe. In fact, he believed in taking ownership of his actions, no matter how good, or bad, the reason was. “If you don’t wanna talk to me right now, that’s fine. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and would like to go home. But I can’t promise I won’t be out here everyday until you agree to speak to me.” He stated, “Perks of being the boss of that little office job. I can make my own schedule when I feel necessary.” With much thought, or truly any regard to his own safety it’d seem, he’d proceed to tug a strand of lose hair that strayed out behind her ear. “But -- if you feel the need to slap and yell, I’ve got some time for that as well.”

“You know what?” He gave pause, as her words sat in, not a word missing the beat. He shook his head in agreement, “I think you just hit the nail on the head. Couldn’t have said it better.” Lincoln was surprisingly aware of both sides of life. He grew up middle class, a little poorer then most, that was absolutely where his more humble traits came from. No doubt. But he also got a taste of the richer side of life growing up as well. When his father married Camila, there was absolutely a switch up in the aesthetic in his life. And therefore, it opened the door to those who were rather ignorant to anything that didn’t involve privilege and luxury. Truly, that could, at times, be hell of a scary world. “And now all I see is a post about ‘how some dumb barista messed up their drink, but don’t worry I threw it at her, and made her a new one’. And at least majority of the responses on that being a ‘good for you’ or ‘as you should’ve, how dare she’.” He thought out loud, disgusted by the thought, itself, but hardly surprised at it. “That they do, but damn, you can’t blame a guy for hoping for some humanity sometimes. It just never fails to impress anymore.”

Lincoln knew he had screwed up. With quite a few people, in fact. It wasn’t exactly wise of anyone to make someone a promise, and then break it. To stand them up, without much of a word. Hell, in fact, that was hardly like him. Then again, he realized when he dealt with his side of the family, he was hardly much like himself at all. “It’s not.” He stated, “That’s fair, I guess I’d be a little worried if it was.” As she asked him what he wanted, he simply eyed her, tight lipped for a second longer then he needed to be before he sat himself down on the stool before him. “Also fair. But I am here to tell you that I am sorry, and you don’t have to forgive me right now, but I definitely didn’t mean to stand you up.” He responded, “No matter how much I hated the idea of dancing, I definitely had no plans to stand you up. Maybe show up drunk.” Definitely show up drunk, he was absolutely no dancer, not by the longest of shots. “Something came up, and I had to take care of it. I know that’s not much of an excuse, and I’m not going to scapegoat myself on one.” If for nothing else, but simply because he absolutely did not want to go into detail about it. Hell, if it was at all possible, he’d forgot all about it. “But I am truly and deeply sorry. And if you’re willing to serve me a drink, I’ll take one. If you’d prefer not to look at me anymore for the time being, I’ll leave.” He assured.

Lincoln was still simply blown away from the scene that played out before him mere minutes ago. Maybe because while he knew all about frustration and the way a bad day could truly affect an individual; there still left no acceptance to what he just witnessed. There was truly nothing that could make that okay. “The Karens of the world need to learn how to sit the fuck down and take a chill pill. That crap is not okay.” He stated the obvious. He truly hated witnessing the abusive of service people, rather it be retail or food service, it was not acceptable. These people were still just that, people, and they were not getting paid to be someone’s punching bag. “Right there with you, personally, I think she handled it better then just about anyone I know. I might’ve added a swing in there, I don’t know. It just wouldn’t have been pretty.” He added, truly not sure how he would’ve reacted, but it absolutely wouldn’t have been good. “I wanna say she should be able to take legal action against that, but truth be told, I’m not quite sure how far that would get for her.” The world truly did suck like that, there was no ands, ors, or buts about that. 

“You know--” He began to the person next to him who had to have just witnessed the same thing he had. “-- I’ve had some pretty rough damn days in my life. I mean, who hasn’t, right? But seriously, how rough does your day have to be for you to feel the need to throw your six dollar coffee at someone because they misspelled you name?” If anything, that was always such a simple mistake. Never one he thought warranted such frustration. Then again, his name was pretty simple, so, what did he know? “I mean, aesthetic is hardly as important as what’s in the damn cup, right?” Of course, he was aware of how untrue that was, at least, in his line of business. But damn this was coffee, expensive coffee at that, fuck aesthetic. 

For him, the last week had been one of hell. While everyone else seemed to be out enjoying the founder’s week, he was dealing with his own personal crap. None of it had really been cleared up, but he was finally able to unwind from it, and therefore, he found his first person on his apology tour to be Zahra. He had planned to meet up with her outside the gala, he had told her that he would, and then he never showed. Nor really given her any word since. It had almost been as though he had fallen off the face of the earth. Finding her was easy, he knew where she worked, and her hours, therefore, he found himself outside the garage waiting on her to exit. He had glanced down at his phone, a glimpse of a figure from the corner of his eyes caused him to look up; just in time to see her to emerging from the building. Pushing off his car, he took a few steps forward and turned his body so that he was facing her. “Hey--” He greeted, “I’m sorry for never showing the other night. Some stuff came up, and -- let me make it up to you.” 

He wasn’t necessarily disappointed that he missed the dance-a-thon. Mainly because he was hardly much of a dancer to begin with. But he did feel bad for bailing out on Alex last minute. Therefore, he’d find himself looking for her, entering the one place he knew he’d have no problems finding her. It was a rather crowded Friday night, music going, a group here, and a group there littered around the bar. His height coming in as an advantage for him, as he was capable of finding the woman fairly easy over the crowd of people. Making his way in her direction, behind the bar, he offered her a kind smile. “Hey, stranger.” He’d greet, “Sorry for bailing on you. How many drinks do I gotta buy until I’m forgiven?”

Lincoln followed behind Elena, his eyes firmly upon the menu that hung on the wall. His features worn, his thoughts haywire, but the male still kept a composure that was rather calm. The idea of the strongest damn drink they had in house sounding right up his alley. When Elena first spoke, he hadn’t immediately answered, nor looked at her. Eyes still scanning the menu, but hardly taking much of any of it in. Instead, he had heard her question, and found himself analyzing over just how he wanted to answer it. He tore his eyes away and allowed them to fall upon her, a soft smile dancing upon his features just then. “Uh- I actually ended missing most of it.” He admitted, “Some stuff came up that I had to take care of, but I heard it was a great time over all.” It usually was, wasn’t it? “As long as you bring me back a souvenir, I have no disagreements. You deserve it.”

Lincoln’s had been lost in his own thoughts. The last week probably the longest he had had in a long time. Unable to really pull himself back to present time, even more lack of sleep then usual, he hadn’t realized that his wallet missed the back pocket he had attempted to shove it into. He’d proceed to rub his temples as he continued to walk, only stopping when the voice that called out behind him registered; one that he was more then familiar with. Turning, his eyes fell to the item in her hand, “Shit.” He mumbled, before reaching for it, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you were around today, Demir.” Lincoln would proceed to play off, “Replacing all of this shit is a real pain in the ass. So, as always, you’re appreciated.”