with: @memoryangers (belmont) where: PNW's
It's late, but not so late that Ibrahim is longing for the night to come to a close. Instead, he finds himself at the bar. Predictable. He figures he'll grab a drink or two, let the stress of another work day surrounded by mouthy fuckin' students (god love them) roll off his back, and be home in time for his regularly scheduled eight and a half hours of sleep. Nothing exciting. That's his life, rinse and repeat. That's how he likes it.
His favorite spot toward the end of the bar is open and he takes it unceremoniously, eyes immediately lifting to look for a bartender so he can order his usual. Only, it's not who he expects to see-- there's a momentary confusion as familiarity hits his brain, and his brows furrow with it.
"Why do I know you?"
"You-- hey, you're that kid. Right?" Kid, like there's not less than a decade between them; Ibrahim remembers him because he'd been one of his earlier clients, typical troubled youth that couldn't keep himself out of trouble. Lost cause. He'd still fought for him, but it hadn't done much good. That had been what seems like half a lifetime ago and in a significantly different state.
"The fuck are you doing here?"
