#georgialaurier

apollo sat in the corner of the local coffee shop, trying to buy his time as he waited for georgia to walk in. the winter festival had taken up most of his time this weekend, so he needed to catch up on work -- which included reading over a lot of college essays and making sure there weren’t any grammar issues in them. the longer he sat staring at them, the more he figured this should be an english teacher’s job, not the guidance counselor. upon hearing the bell above the door chime, he looked up from his laptop, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of georgia. “well, hello to my favorite reporter,” he cooed, motioning to the seat across from him and closing his computer. “i saw your story on the front page. i can’t believe sonny actually did it -- the whole fucking up the tree lighting.”

the snow had just barely started coming down, but the night was just getting started for apollo. he had already downed about half of the liter of whiskey he’d pulled from the top of the bar and was itching to find something else to do in this stupid resort than sit around and fight for a spot by the fireplace. he had been nestled by one of the big windows overlooking the slopes when an idea hit him. he glanced around at the crowds of people, making sure no one was paying any attention to him before shifting on his big columbia jacket and making his way towards one of the exits. the ski lift was sure to have been long turned off by now, but his drunken mind hadn’t paid any mind to that chance. he just wanted to get up on one of the lifts and see the snow falling over town -- a perfectly sane decision. he was halfway to the first lift when he heard footsteps behind him crunching the freshly fallen snow. he whirled around on his heels. “can i help you?”

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