grace

Chapter One - This is Me Trying

Chapter song - This is Me Trying by Taylor Swift

Word count - 1096

Authors note - this chapter was shorter than i wanted it to be but it’s the first chapter so the rest will be longer. also, when i say “—— pov” it isn’t actually their pov, just their thoughts. It will always be third person but you’ll just see only that person's thoughts in that chapter. I hope this makes sense!!!

of course the locker didn’t want to open.

Oliver tugged on the handle again and again, harder each time, still to no avail.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me.” he muttered

“gotta lift it a little.”

Oliver jumped at the voice appearing behind him, turning to see a uniformed officer. He was tall, much older, and already dressed.

he tried the locker again, lifting as he pulled, and the door popped open.

“they all like to stick” the man spoke again. his voice wasn’t mean, but just gruff enough to always sound annoyed. Oliver let out a breath.

“thanks.” he was sure he was bright red, always been known for feeling strong embarrassment. He turned back to his locker, finding everything he was supposed to. uniform, folded neatly, and a small box beside, presumably his badge. He found himself staring at it for a bit too long.

“you gonna suit up or admire it all day?” a few fellow officers laughed somewhere behind him. His face felt hot. what the fuck was he doing?

“yea, of course” he managed to stutter out.

the fabric felt heavy against his supple skin. seams suddenly poking in every place. Everyone moved around him like they were supposed to be there, yet he felt glued to the floor. He could hear conversations overlapping, coffee pouring, lockers closing. The sounds felt too foreign, too hostile. He was the only one that didn’t fit. footsteps invaded his ears and brought him out of his thoughts.

“rookie.”

“Yes, sir?”

“What's your name?” his hands sat idly on his hips, impatiently waiting for a response.

“Oliver Hayes, sir.” he stuck his hand out. Why? He didn't know. The man stared for a moment, then brought their hands to meet, a firm handshake accompanying.

“Alexander Kane, but that's Captain to you.” He dropped his hand and assumed his past position. “Breifing in two minutes. try to look less… well, try to at least look ready.” he walked off.

fuck.

Oliver turned and shut his locker, looking himself over. His uniform felt too big, but too small, and he thought that maybe he made some poor decisions in life.

After a briefing which took entirely too long, Oliver was assigned to patrol with, of course, Alexander. Oliver very quickly learned that he wasn't the chatty type, which might've been a blessing in disguise. In a small town like theirs, patrol was pretty much sitting around. But then a call came.

“Unit 12, respond to a noise complaint. 214 Willow Lane. Caller reports loud music, possible disturbance.” Alexander quickly picked up the walkie as the call came in.

“Unit 12, copy.” He set the walkie down and put the car into drive. “You got that?”

“Uh- yeah. Noise complaint.” Oliver answered like it was a test, and not his job. Alexander hummed in slight approval as he steered the cruiser through the streets. As they reached Willow lane, the music grew louder. Soon, everything came into frame, cars parked out front, lights, laughing - loud and careless. Alexander pulled the cruiser to the curb and shut the engine off. Oliver stayed put.

“go ahead.”

“Now?”

“Are you waiting for an invite?” Oliver quickly got out of the car, and Alexander followed suit. After a couple loud knocks on the door, a tall, young man answered.

“shit- hey, officers.”

“Hello sir, who's in charge here?”

“uh, yeah I am. I'm the frat president." A quick glance into the house led the eyes to many obvious college students. Ignoring what was happening at the door, they danced and drank - clearly way too much. Oliver tried to focus, as he felt his captain's eyes on him behind him.

“Alright, there have been some complaints about the noise level at this address. we just ask that you turn the music down or off. We will let you off with a warning now, but if we get more complaints and are required to come back, this could escalate, turning into a fine, citation, or arrest. Of course, we don’t want to do that.”

“Of course officers. I'll turn it down right away.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day." Oliver turned to walk away as the man shut the door, and the two officers quickly heard as the music turned into a respectable volume.

“seems like that’s all settled.” Oliver spoke awkwardly, softly chucking. Alexander let out a sort of growled hum to acknowledge his agreement. As they got back into the cruiser, Alexander started up the engine as Oliver started writing a report. When done, Oliver handed the report over for his Captain to review, and their hands brushed, just slightly, but enough for it to be there. Neither man thought much of it.

“Looks good.” Alexander handed the report back to Oliver, and began the drive back to the station. The ride back was quiet, but more of a comfortable silence this time. As they pulled into the station, Oliver unbuckled his seatbelt, and Alexander looked over after parking. “You in a rush?”

“No, sorry. Just a habit.” Alexander nodded in acknowledgment and grabbed the walkie. “Unit 12, going 10-42.” He set the walkie back down and opened his door, but hesitated stepping out. He turned to look at Oliver, sighing. “You didnt completely fuck up today.” And with those words, he stepped out and shut his door. Oliver sat with those words for a moment, and found himself feeling a lot better. Maybe he would be fine. He too got out of the cruiser and headed into the station to change.

Back into his clothes from the morning, Oliver waved shy goodbyes to the other people in the building and got into his car, finally breathing the first real breath of the day.

Oliver didn't turn the lights on right away. The faint glow of streetlamps through the window gave him just enough light to see. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

It was silent.

It felt strange after his day, with constant phone calls and walkie messages. He walked into the kitchen aimlessly, but wasn't quite hungry. He felt a wave of tiredness. Dragging himself to his bedroom, he shed his clothes and finally found peace under his covers.

You didnt completely fuck up today.

So it wasn't awful.

He wasn't awful.

His phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and he let his head fall to the side, looking at it. He didn't pick up, probably spam.

For the first time that day, he felt calm, still.

And he let himself drift off.