#;jthread

          “Do I look like shit -- ok. Yes. -- but. Do I feel like shit...also yes. Yes very much so. I feel...awful.” but just as rapidly as his statement is released, Jakob clasps his hands together in a prayer motion and purses his lips. “But I need you to not worry since I’ve been in remission for a long, long time now...it’s...probably my blood sugar or something...” 

          “Matt --- I’m going to ask you to be extremely real with me. Just--look me in the eyes and tell me there are no more secrets, man.”  His gaze is almost pleading, but soft. He could raise his voice, he could get angry, instead, he’s typical Jakob -- soft, and forgiving. 

They (whoever -- 'they' is...) say NYC is almost as powerful as good ole tinsel town -- that it's the city that will push you outside from your limits and introduce adventure and life back into your lungs. Jakob isn't such about the latter considering it's fairly difficult for him to bask in the smog and smoke contaminated oxygen. But Hell -- he's already survived what? Two stints of cancer, including a cluster of tumors against his lungs... cool -- he's so thrilled that it could come back in a matter of days with the way people are sucking their muscles dry with nicotine and toxins. Jakob's nose noticeably scrunches as he dashes through the crowd as best he can (his usual confident sort of 'hobble'). He's mastered his prosthetic stride, long before his trek to the east coast. He hurriedly turns the corner and is bound by relief when he spots the familiar blonde sitting at a booth in the cafe she'd chosen to meet up. Admittedly, he had been a bit surprised when the bombshell had reached out when she discovered he would be in the confines of the same destination she'd set her heart on. Instantly, a smile grows upon his lips, straight through to his eyes. He's thrilled to see her, even despite their odd bit of falling out -- but that's just past drama that they need not delve into. Everyone makes mistakes, himself included - despite what people might say about him, Jakob maintains that he's anything but a saint. His momma just raised him right. Does that make him boring? --He wouldn't care even if it did or does. "Of all the cities in the world you had to stumble back into mine. What's up, Blue-eyes?"

     Jakob was all too excited to be home. Carting his sweet potato casserole and vegetarian seitan for Tony, he couldn’t stop smiling. He let himself right into the front door without knocking, holding it open for his significant other.       As per usual, Cat’s in the kitchen, cute little apron tied around her petite waist, Tyler in the living room tuning his guitar. “Hello? Mom! We’re here!” Jakob announces as he turns the corner. The kitchen rests smack in the middle of the entire house, on the other side was the living room and television -- by the foyer is the ‘family’ room, complete with Christmas tree and front bay window, as well as the lively fire place with stockings and family memories in familiar images placed delicately on the mantle as well as the wall. If Tony looked closely he could see Jakob’s life in portrait.       Catrina squeals in happiness from the kitchen and hurries her way into the foyer, wrapping her eldest son in a strong hug. “My boys are here!-- Gracie called, she’s coming...bringing that guy...what’s his name...Matt? Yeah--” she then turns to face Tony, her smile far from dissipating. “And you! Are Tony--Oh!” she very rapidly wraps him up within the same hug she’d provided her own son. “My boys are home!” she warmly proclaims, “Of course that includes you -- Sorry” she states as she pulls away, “I’m a hugger and well, you are apart of the family now.”