I was atheist until I realized I am god.

Send me  ‘ 🥃 ‘ + plus a question, and my muse will answer it while drunk.

He slept in the clubhouse again. One arm thrown over his eyes to shield them from the fluorescent lights, one leg hanging off the couch. The activities from the night before after the vote, left Ryder so drunk that he could barely make it to the couch in the common space of the clubhouse without falling on himself. He should be happy though, right? He got promoted. Ryder James Aeron was now the Vice President of an MC; God, even to him that was a terrifying thought. But everytime he’s reminded of his new position, there’s a feeling in his heart that could only be explained as the rug being pulled out from under him. This was the last straw. There would be no more Rowan, Andy or even Lettie, anymore. While he knew this day would come someday, and he knew there was no one to blame but himself and his actions, he still felt lost. 

A huge part of the redhead wanted to just crawl into the room he declared as his own in the clubhouse and not get out of bed for a few days. And honestly, he was about to. Until he remembered that now he had a responsibility to the club. He had to work; and working today meant meeting with Seth to discuss details. So instead of bed, Ryder found himself dragging his feet into the shower, coming out twenty minutes later hair still wet, head still aching and in the clothes from the night before. 

The new Trojan President was waiting for him.  Nodding a little bit at Seth, Ryder pulled himself up into a stool, taking the bottle offered to him and just holding it in his hands. Right to business; Ryder could respect that. The younger man shook his head “Ford and I will be fine.” He snorted, knowing that their fights were on the intense side before, but also the ginger met Seth in the ring multiple times before so it wasn’t anything new. It was the comment about him having anyone that rocked Ryder to his core. Choking a little on the beer he was taking a sip of, he only had to think for a moment. 

“Adrian. Got no one else.” He said, tracing condensation circles on the worn wood of the bar. He didn’t want to talk about his personal life anymore; and as he wracked his brain for a subject change, he thought of something. “You gotta tell me about that woman from the fair now though.” Ryder said, knowing Seth wouldn’t like it but he continued anyway. “If I saw you, then they mighta seen you and they might try to use her against you. Is she someone we need to protect?”

Seth perked an eyebrow at Ryder, intrigued by his tired appearance. They’d had a great time at the party, the night before, but Seth had ultimately left before the party was completely over. Kids had school in the morning and Seth wanted to shoot a text off to Emmeline to make sure she wasn’t in the middle of battling her ex-husband. He’d been around town and Seth hated knowing he couldn’t necessarily stop the man from terrorizing the woman and her daughter. Although Beth knew very little about the situation. Still, the party must’ve been something to have Ryder looking half-asleep at the table. And he’d still trust that the younger man was enough in the right state of mind to give off an agreement like that. Ford and Ryder weren’t friends but as long as they could work together, no one was gonna have to fight. Not yet anyway. Although Seth can already imagine himself yelling at the idiots in the Club. He just hoped it wasn’t his right hands. “Glad to hear that,” Seth said, checking off the item off his list with his pen.

“You want harness boy protected?” Seth snorts, shaking his head for a moment in his laughter. “Whatever you say, firecrotch,” he shrugged, making a mental note. Ryder may not have a lot of family or friends unaffiliated with the Club but Seth can remember a time when Ryder had been close to the Thanes. He doesn’t know how that’s going but he wasn’t completely oblivious to the others around him when he was the Primordial vice president. Seth doesn’t judge Ryder on his limited protection orders, it was probably better that way. The less you had to lose, the better suited you were for the Club, was the harsh truth. “I’ll talk to Ford later, see if he has any but I don’t think that kid’s got anything besides the Club,” Seth admitted, trying to remember to be honest as they moved forward.

However, the comment about Emmeline had Seth hesitant. He hates to share her story for her and really, what the fuck were they? They were friends… Seth is hoping to sleep with her… Seth is thinking his dumb ass likes her a bit too much for it to be just a one night stand now. And it’s obvious by the way he’s made himself available for her, spending the night with her to protect her, teaching her how to shoot, texting her to make sure everything’s okay and that she’d checked the locks. Seth looked down at his list, this conversation had not made the docket but he knew he had to answer now because Ryder was right, Seth could be putting Emmeline in more danger now that he was around her more. Looking back up, Seth moves his glasses to his head to look at Ryder, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “Em is a friend. She’s in a tough spot right now and goin’ through some shit. I’m helpin’ her out as a friend. She’s got a kid— a cute one— so I’m lookin’ out for them right now. That enough or you want me to tell you her favorite fuckin’ color?” he explained, feeling compelled to snap at Ryder at the end. “She’s under my protection.”

Seth shakes his head, hating that Emmeline has to be involved in any of this at all, but he pulls his glasses back down to look at the list. “Next item, unless you wanna tell me about your first kiss with harness boy or some shit I don’t care about, is getting back at the Primordials for Kane’s Tootsie Pop situation. I’m going with ‘no’ on it but feel free to disagree and run us into the ground,” Seth smirked, sarcastically. His tone had changed since Ryder brought up Emmeline, he knew but he didn’t stop it. He was annoyed by the ginger’s need to know about her. “But I’m guessin’ you’re fine with it. Question is, we gonna have to worry ‘bout Iz? She gonna do somethin’ stupid?”

He didn’t care and yet he was still listening to him. Interesting. A part of him wished they had voted to kill Seth instead, he was a thorn in his side. And who the fuck thought it’d be a good idea for him to be the president? “Why the fuck do you care what me and Izzy do?” So what if they didn’t make up? What did it matter? “I wouldn’t care what you did cause you’re not my friend.” He wanted to make that clear, that Seth wasn’t anything more than someone he barely thought about. 

The truth of the matter was that The Trojans were gonna need him more now than ever. The Primordials were going to continue attacking them, he knew how valuable of an asset he was. “Whether you like it or not, you need me,” James acknowledged, “I’d rather fuckin’ talk to her than you.” At least then he wouldn’t feel like he had to gouge his own eyes out, as he felt with Seth. “So I’m gonna do what I want. And if you got a problem with that, take it up with my fuckin’ secretary.”

Seth sighed loudly, his eyes rolling again. Of course he didn’t give a shit about what James and Izzy did. They were both irritating and they were both mostly expendable. Admittedly, most of the Club was wrapped around Isobella’s finger, which both pissed him off and made him happy that they had someone to stay for. There was a part of Seth that had worried that with the vote for him as president, half of them would leave. But they hadn’t and he knew that it was in large part because of their hatred for the Primordials but also because they all bonded with each other. Which was just fine by him. “I don’t give a flying fuck about what the Hell you do with Iz— long as she’s alive, she’s valuable enough to me,” Seth agreed. Isobella was stupid for forgiving him or whatever she was doing but she was her own problem, not Seth’s. “As if I wanted to fuckin’ talk to your dumb ass. Rats ain’t welcome as far as I’m concerned. So I’ll take your help but if you think I’m tellin’ you anythin’ about us, you got another thing comin’,” Seth shot back, his hand lifting his beer to sip from it.

“Report to Iz, if she can tolerate your ass and keep in mind, I ain’t payin’ for no bullshit. Got anything else you wanna bitch about, James?”

His reassurance of it being fine doesn’t do much to calm her nerves, nor him reiterating the fact that all they can do is wait. All Noah has ever done is make her wait — wait for the next black eye, the next apology, the next fractured cheekbone, the next bunch of flowers, the next unsigned set of papers in the mail, and now his next appearance. With a nod she tries to follow his advice and take a couple deep breaths. She’s no good to anyone as is, but she sure isn’t any good to anyone hyperventilating, she reminds herself, and she feels her heartrate slow down just the slightest with her third slow exhale. “I wouldn’t make you stay in your car,” she finally says, brows furrowing and she gives him a look that says she’s kind of offended he thinks she would be that rude. As hard as it is to admit, she does trust him after all the time they’ve spent together. Trusting people, men especially, has come back to bite her in the ass more than once but still, she can’t stop herself from wanting to see the good in people, Seth included in that. And so the idea of him staying at the house doesn’t set her completely on edge like it would have a few months ago. Besides, she can lock her bedroom from the inside if she for some reason wakes up in the middle of the night suddenly convinced he’s going to smother her with a pillow.

“He probably won’t come to the door if there’s another car here,” she admits to him, trying to help herself feel a little more at ease. Noah is ballsy and unafaid and thinks he can get away with anything, but he isn’t stupid. He’ll wait for the right opportunity, when she’s let her guard down and she’s alone, like he always has in the past. “I don’t want to put you out.” But she has a feeling he wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t mean it. Seth has never struck her as the type to pretend to be something that he really isn’t. “But if you really, truly don’t mind —- it would make me feel better.” Which feels weird to admit, because it has been so long since she has been allowed to admit to needing anyone. Her guardians and Ollie had been the first steps in her recovery, but they were people she had always needed, people she knew were always going to be on her side — Seth is someone new, someone who doesn’t owe her anything. 

Seth lets Emmeline settle on the idea herself. He knows he’s certainly not the good guy in town and having in the house wasn’t something most people in Olympus would recommend, let alone, having him overnight. He was a murderer, he was a gang member, and he was kind of an asshole— all traits that parallel Emme’s normalcy. But he won’t correct her because truly, Seth is really trying to help Emme. He isn’t into seeing a kid get in the middle of her dad’s shit storm and now that he knew Emme as a person, he has a hard time believing anything that Noah is doing is warranted. As she settles on letting Seth stay, there’s a part of him that feels a bit accomplished— which is a weird way of saying that he feels good that she trusted him enough to let him stay. Seth nodded, holding back a smooth smile, knowing that it’s not the time for that. She was worried and his own ego swelling would have to wait.

“I’ll sleep on the couch then. I was just offerin’ outside, was hopin’ you weren’t gonna make me sleep out there. Probably gonna be cold as fuck,” he reminded, having honestly been unsure where the pair stood until ten seconds ago. He chuckles a little, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll stay. No problem. Ain’t got the kids so I don’t got nothin’ better to do,” Seth agrees, his hand itching to move to reassure her with a touch but he can’t help but remember the times he’s touched her before. The way she has to almost remind herself that Seth isn’t going to hurt her or initially, how she quite literally flinched from him. Instead of giving in, he decided to let his hand motion toward the outside of the house where he knows his car is sitting. “I’ll move my car out of the driveway, park it down the street or somethin’,” he shrugged, knowing it was an easy enough fix. Seth is inclined to move the car and come into the house through the back, in case Noah was already around. He didn’t know the guy well enough to gauge his moves which has Seth mostly going through this in the dark. It’s not ideal but it’s what it has to be for now. 

Seth gives her a small smile before he stands from the couch, reaching for his keys in his back pocket to go move the car. “I’ll be right back, alright?” he assures her before he heads outside. Seth moved the car a few blocks down, checking his surroundings as if he knows what the fucker looks like. But it’s evening and he supposes anyone sitting in their car at this time of night would be suspicious enough to say something. His check on the street came up empty, not that he’s surprised but as he knocks on Emme’s front door again, saying it’s just him as he opens the door, he turns his head to double check the area. His eyes scan a few more times to be sure before he locks the door and turns to Emme. “Jus’ crickets out there,” he tried, relaxing back into his spot on the couch. “I’ll be right here if ya need me.” And considering Seth could sleep sitting up on just about any couch with the TV on, it wasn’t too far-fetched either.

“Who’s cryin’,” Damian asked, leaning all his weight on the arm draped across the edge of the counter. The brand new and shiny “President” patch was unmistakable, even in the shitty bar lighting. Damian nodded towards it, the index finger wrapped around his glass jutting out to point. “Looks like you inherited a whole heap of shit on your plate,” he pointed out. “Good thing you’re not my president. Means I’m not your problem, right?”

Even if he hadn’t noticed the patch, even with the light fog that surrounded his brain, Damian had noticed something different about Seth the moment he’d laid eyes on him. Maybe his walk was different. Maybe his shoulders were just a little straighter. Maybe the patch made him puff out his chest just a little more than usual.

Or maybe Damian was just drunk. It was hard to tell which. 

Still, there was a small part of Damian that wanted to be proud of his brother. Right now, though, it was too hard to clasp Seth on the back and buy him a beer. Not when he’d spent the last month declaring time of death on people who had overdosed, more than likely on Trojan supply. Damian raised his class and offered a light, “Congratulations, man,” before downing the rest of his drink. “Do me a favor and try to keep your head on your shoulders, okay?” 

Seth should’ve known that this was coming. He’d been wondering for the last few days when Damian would find out through the town loop that Seth was the new President of the Trojans. Like it or not— the pair were joined together by blood, something that even the Club doesn’t actually have in common with Seth and that aligience means that Damian will always be his problem, no matter what. Whether he was copping another unneeded attitude that was about to get his ass knocked out or not, Seth wasn’t gonna leave his drunk ass at some dingey bar. “Sounds like you’re fuckin’ crying, asshole,” he replied, finally, deciding to subtly reach for the glass to little avail when he acts as if he was just placing his hand on the bar, hoping his brother won’t notice. “You’re always my fuckin’ problem and right now, you’re startin’ to become’a big one,” Seth sighed, rubbing a thumb and forefinger to either temple. 

While he isn’t sure how to take the ‘congratulations’-- was it a joke or was it an actual congratulations— Seth just nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Next time, you should try that with some more meaning or you’re never gonna get that job on fuckin’ Days of Our Lives.” Admittedly, Damian is one of the people in the town that should know best how badly that his brother wanted to be the president of a MC. He’d wanted it since he joined at eighteen, prospecting and then shortly thereafter, getting carted off to prison. It’s not something he’s sure that Damian is incredibly proud of but Seth knew that at least Damian could understand that this was his peak in his career. While Damian’s peak lingered somewhere around becoming a doctor or moving on to become a decorated surgeon, it certainly wasn’t comparable but Seth was probably just as proud as Damian had been when he’d finished. “No one’s fuckin’ dyin’ around here, ‘kay? And that was your last fuckin’ drink. I forgot how much of a fuckin’ idiot you are drunk. You’re not even a fun drunk, Damian. No one likes a pretentious drunk, no one.”

“Izzy’s my friend, I’m gonna check up on her. That wasn’t business,” He was going to do what he wanted, despite the consequences of his actions. “It’s a lot more complicated than telling you what they were gonna do. Don’t you think it would’ve been obvious if you guys had known that there was a rat?” He asked, “Besides, you’re on top now. Why the fuck do you care?”

“You’re gonna sit back and like what I give you. I’d rather talk to someone instead, y’know, be in contact with someone else,” If he was being honest, he hated Seth. Not to mention that he wanted to come out of here alive. Maybe making a deal would work better for him. 

Seth can feel his lips curl over his teeth as James calls Izzy his friend. Some fucking friend. Didn’t even let her know that her Old Man was about to be chopped up and put on display as a part of the lollipop guild in front of his own business. Doesn’t seem like a friend to Seth but he’s not one to judge since he can count the friends he has on less than one hand. Unless you counted Emmeline— which he’s unsure that he can when they had started off as a business arrangement. Now, he was just annoyingly attracted to her and just about everything about her. Not to mention the satisfaction he’ll get from killing her ex-husband, which is admittedly, not Emme’s trait. Still, Seth rolled his eyes at James’ sorry excuse for friendship. Even if Seth wasn’t torn up like Izzy was, he knew that it was still pretty fucked up. “I don’t care,” Seth replied, visibly weighing his options with the sway of his head. “However, I do fuckin’ care if my head ends up on a fucking platter at the Thanes next Sunday fucking dinner. You ‘n’ Iz, can figure your shit out but if it was me, I would’ve shot you on site,” he reminded him. Izzy may have been soft for such a thing but Seth fucking wasn’t. You cross him, you’d signed your own death certificate.

“I’m sorry-- I didn’t realize that I invited you here to negotiate,” Seth snapped back, his jaw solidifying at the very idea of it. “Who you gonna talk to if it ain’t me? Huh? You gonna talk to your ‘friend’ Izzy? The one who you literally voted to kill her Old Man? Take your pick who the fuck you’re talkin’ to. I don’t give a fuck what you do but if it ain’t good information, I ain’t paying you. I don’t give a fuck about what you think you deserve,” he proposed, which was more so like a demand but that was neither here nor there. The point was that the Trojans didn’t need information— they needed good information, if they wanted to stay alive and if James was going to stand in Seth’s way for that then he had another thing coming. “Sound peachy?”

Seth sat in the Dive, awaiting his chosen guest in the midst of their grand re-opening of the Dive. It was a busy night since he’d asked every Trojan to make an appearance there, even Isobella herself. They had business to attend to and the Dive was the place where it was going to start. There wouldn’t be coddling for anyone because what was good for the Club was good for everyone. Seth had invited James to the Club in order to chat about the most recent events. Based on Ryder and Seth’s most recent conversations, the Trojans wouldn’t be planning any sort of revenge for the death of Kane… at least not now. They had bigger fish to fry and a lot of getting themselves on stable ground once again to be able to plan something like that. Seth knew it sounded weak and it definitely sounded like something some people would despise but the decision was made anyway.

As soon as Seth sees James, he stands and wraps an easy arm around the man’s shoulder to direct him to a booth to discuss the most recent mishap and how they could even move forward. “Heard you stopped by Iz’s house,” he said, looking out at the crowd, his eyes never really seeing James. “I don’t suggest you do that again unless you’ve got real information and aren’t gonna leave shit out… What? You forgot your vote?” he asked, not actually caring about the answer either way. “I’m— We’re not paying you shit for your information if this shit ain’t workin’,” Seth added, shrugging before finally looking at James in the eyes, annoyance clear on Seth’s face.. Annoyed was one way to put it but protection what was his now— that’s how Seth would put it. “So basically my point is, what’re we gonna do if you’re a fuckin’ rat… and you’re fuckin’ bad at it, huh?”

Now that shit was settled and the votes had been cast, recorded and the new Trojan hierarchy was in place, Seth knew that running a whole new team was going to mean working together and getting their heads right. They had decisions to make and a whole operation to take over. There was a new leadership in town and Seth was in charge of that. So far, he’d taken the job seriously, heading down to the Dive earlier with the keys passed off to him as the new owner to try and figure the inner workings of the bar out and try and make sure he had a list of shit to talk about with Ryder in the empty bar. They needed to get a plan together, make sure their affairs in order and move on all of it. Although Seth really didn’t want to divulge personal shit, he knew it was a part of the position he was in and considering Ryder and Seth weren’t exactly whispering secrets into one another’s ears yet— it was time.

When the redhead arrived, Seth stood up, walking behind the bar to serve himself and the new Vice President a beer. The Dive was empty save a few rats that inevitably were hiding somewhere in the walls— thankfully, Seth was pretty sure James couldn’t fit in them or he would probably be spying from inside there. The image of Kane’s head on a stake still haunted the Dive and admittedly, Seth was worried he wouldn’t be able to bleach that memory from the town of Olympus at least enough to turn the same sort of profits. But that was a business problem for Seth, not necessarily a Club problem. Sitting down at one of the tabletops, Seth pushed the beer to Ryder, before reaching into his back pocket for the notepad he’d scribbled notes on. Instinctively, the man reached for his glasses so he could read his own shit before looking up again. “Look, I ain’t tryna make this some sort of blood oath bullshit or whatever but we need to get on the same page if this is gonna work,” Seth started, not wasting any time before he continued onto his first point. “You and Ford gonna be okay workin’ together? Because I ain’t got time to babysit y’all. I got two kids of my own. I ain’t lookin’ for two more,” he explained, knowing that the pair weren’t exactly best friends but then again, who was in this fucking Club?

“Second— protection obviously extends over my whole family. My kids, my brothers, my nieces. My younger brother-- Finn and his wife, Amelia live outta state with ‘em but just in case,” Seth shrugged, deciding to dive right into the second point. “You got anyone, kid?”

There’s a dull buzz in his head when he takes the first sip of his fourth drink. Damian knows he’s been drinking too much lately, even without the steady hand that rests on his shoulder and the deep voice of his younger brother in his ear to remind him exactly why. The death toll in town had spiked in the last month. Between the overdoses that he knew his brother’s club was at least partially responsible for–the drug supply in town ran straight through Trojan territory and that wasn’t exactly a secret–and the violence that had spilled blood on the streets of his hometown, Damian needed something to take the edge off. And he was always on edge, feeling like he couldn’t keep anything fucking alive these days.

“A burger and fries isn’t stress eating, asshole. It’s dinner after a 12 hour shift because I ain’t cooking shit tonight,” he said, bumping the hand off his shoulder. Damian hadn’t been overweight since the beginning of high school and he intended to keep it that way, though who could resist a slab of red meat every once and a while? He raised his glass in his brother’s direction, a lopsided grin forming on his face. “At least I don’t smoke. Smoking’s the killer.”

At the center of all of his stress, as he had been for his entire life, was Seth. And Kane’s decapitated head making the rounds on cable news had only lit a flame under the every present anxiety that one day, and probably soon, he’d have to be the one to bury (whatever was left) of his little brother. “Guessing you’ve picked that pack a day habit back up? Since we’re pretending to be worried about each other’s old vices.”

Hearing Damian’s voice now closer, Seth knew instinctively that his older brother was drunk and maybe was a bit on edge with the news going around town. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best news that Kane had been murdered and with the overdoses that Seth is sure Damian saw a lot of, Seth could understand the drinking. The Carter brothers had always been so very different from one another and while Seth might be the most rough around the edges, there’s no doubt in his mind that Damian is the softest of the three. At least, when it came to this shit. Sometimes, Seth wished Damian never came back and maybe not only for his own selfish reasons (he didn’t like feeling like he should be guilty or ashamed about his lifestyle) but also for Damian’s own mental health. The world out there wasn’t quite like Olympus. Olympus was a vortex that sucked all of the good out of people and spit them back out like mutant creatures who just murdered each other endlessly. Still, it was Seth’s life and it’s the one he chose long ago. 

“You say potato, I say heart attack,” Seth smirked, eyeing the glass in Damian’s hand. He was tempted to swat at it to get it out of his brother’s hand. He’d clearly had enough but there was no reason to cause a scene at a bar that neither of them owned. With the death of Kane and the election of Seth, the Dive was now Seth’s responsibility per Kane’s will, something that he hadn’t actually wanted— the Club was enough— but he took it on anyway. There’d be a few changes around the location anyway to adapt it to the needs of the town but that was somewhere between dragging his drunk brother home and protecting Emmeline and now… being president. “You done, asshole?” he asked, pursing his lips at the smoking comment. It’d been sixteen years since he picked up a cigarette thanks to becoming a father. Now, he was more content with drinking.

“Think it might be time for you to take a break on the… drinkin’, lightweight,” he sighed, raising an eyebrow at the man’s glass. “I got bigger shit goin’ on than you cryin’ about the fact that you moved back to a town with a bunch’a fuckin’ criminals.” Sure, their parents wouldn’t be too proud of Seth Carter running a strip club, a Motorcycle Club and still killing on the side... but at least they’d be proud of Seth trying to be a good little brother.

Characters that Inspire: Seth Carter

“… this gruesome scene outside a popular night club in Olympus, Louisiana just one week ago. Authorities are still searching for information on the case, though no suspects have currently been taken into custody. If you have any–”

Damian’s glass hits the countertop harder than he intends. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters to himself, tapping his palm against the polished surface to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey? Excuse me!” When the man makes it to the far end of the bar he takes Damian’s glass and replaces it without a word. “Thanks man, but, hang on,” he says as the young man turns away.

“Can we not with this shit?” he asks, gesturing up to the television mounted above the bar. “There’s gotta be some college football on somewhere right?” Its’s been about a week since Kane was killed and still, the gruesome murder still made the rounds on the afternoon news every day. And every time he had to listen to them talk about having no leads? It was impossible not to roll his eyes. Who else would have done… all of that?

He rakes his fries through the last bit of ketchup clinging to the bottom of the plastic cup before pushing his nearly empty plate away from him. “How many times do they think people need to see that?” He says to the person sitting next to him. “I mean… hell, they expect someone to just call up and solve it for them?”

Seth couldn’t help but overhear his older brother from afar, his voice cutting through his peaceful night. He’d been sitting in the bar, nursing a beer, thinking over this whole President business. The Trojans needed a leader and he’d been the only one to step up, however, now, he had to make a plan. Did he avenge Kane? Did he leave well enough alone, let the Primordials have their laughs and go? The Primordials hadn’t make a pass at the drug supply this time but that would be the inevitable turn of events if they continued to poke the bear. Maybe for the time being, the Club sat back, licked its wounds, tried to fucking survive and move on. Seth hadn’t made a call on what to do but he did know his brother wasn’t going to ruin his night. 

He sighed, standing up and walking over to Damian’s side, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Think you need to lower your voice, Dam,” he reminded, a bit lower than speaking level. Maybe he’d had a few, maybe he was just as offended by the MCs as he always had been. You’d think by now he’d get over his grudge but seemingly he never would be. “No need for an investigation— Everyone knows who the fuck did it except the fuckin’ cops because they ain’t gonna find a single finger print, drop of blood… nothin’,” Seth shrugged, sliding into the stool next to his brothers. “Town’s got nothin’ better to talk about,” Seth added, nodding to the empty plate. “Aren’t you a doctor or somethin’? Don’t think y’all recommend fries. Are you stress eatin’ again? Ma told you to knock that shit off,” Seth poked.