brock

Meg frowned, more of drunk pouted as she looked up at the source of the voice speaking to her. “Got it beautiful? You’re not helping a grandmother cross the street. Cut back on the boy scout manners will ya’?” Pulling her phone back up towards her face she squinted as she took her time to press the button. “I think I got it… does this say my uber is coming? Or is this uber eats…. fuck..” 

Brock had to crack a smile at that, shook his head as he leaned in further to inspect. She could have been in worse shape, and he was happy to help as far as he could. "I wasn't a boy scout but I learned enough manners from my granddad I think," he explained ducking back and peering over his shoulder. "I mean, you got a chicken sandwich on your way if that's what you wanted," he smirked, glad he didn't get drunk to the point where he wasn't any help anymore. "If you need a ride home I can grab a cab, or get an Uber over here but I get if you don't want me knowin' where you stay. There's a lot of creeps in the world, I get it."

Meg knew she over did it. Enough to know, how much of a fool she was probably making herself look in public. With everything in her, and the double vision making her even messier, she made her exit. Leaning against the cool brick when she finally got outside. Everything else was just a buzzing rush around her while she tried to pull herself together enough to get her phone out, and get herself a cab. With a hand on her arm she quickly pulled it away, stumbling just a bit. “Nope. I got this. Don’t even.. try..” She hiccuped shaking her head as she wobbled a bit more away from them. 

Brock didn’t exactly know what part of him thought that he’d be any real help when he saw the woman stumbling; he’d been going hard for the night, drinks spilling down back to back with no end in sight until it was over, but he saw her, nimble fingers steadying herself against the brick and curling tightly around her phone as she tried to snag herself a ride, and he thought about what Claire would do, thought about what he hoped anyone would do for Claire in the middle of the city where you could never quite tell a guy’s intentions. “Nah, you got it, beautiful,” Brock assured, hands flying up in surrender, trying to show he wasn’t a threat. “I jus’ wanna make sure you gettin’ in okay.”

It was late. Late enough that Esmeralda knew she should go straight home. Djali was probably asleep with Zephyr watching Road to El Dorado or whatever else her son might have tricked him into. But Es was starving. Was anything even open this late? Her phone had died at work and she couldn’t even Google it. Cursing, the girl looked up and was surprised to see someone passing. At this hour? 

“Excuse me, do you know if there are any food places open right now?”

Brock didn’t make it a habit of staying up or staying out too late, something that seemed out of character for a college student his age, but he was an early riser and knew how poor his performance was on little to no sleep. He knew himself too well to do this to himself on a daily basis, and yet here he was, yawning loudly and trying to make his way back to his apartment, trying to decide whether or not to set his alarm for his run in the morning.

He paused when a woman called out to get his attention, turning to take a few steps closer to hear her better. “Oh, uh...” Brock laughed. “I have no idea, being honest with you.” The man plucked his phone from his pocket, asked Siri for lack of a better plan, turning his phone over to the woman so she could see the results. “I feel you, though, I’m hungry as hell. How do people do this every night?”

This was a mistake. Whatever Taran had thought this party was going to be, it had all turned on its ear when he strolled through those doors. Eyes he couldn’t see were obvious in the itch they caused and the collar of his borrowed tuxedo tightened with every breath he took. Here were shadowed nightmares and drunken goddesses, people with souls of gold and the radiance to convey it. Taran still had dirt underneath his nails.

There seemed to be two options here: either he could leave or he could get drunk. Taran already stuck out like the weed in an otherwise uniform field, it was hardly like it could get any worse. Plus, one at least implied he tried. 

Mind made up, he began to move towards the bar, ducking between what felt like the entirety of New York City. Eyes never leaving the floor, Taran carefully navigated the sea of people. The bar was mere steps away when he collided with somebody, sending both parties sprawling.

“I am so sorry,” Taran began, focus somewhere around the individual’s shoulder. “I promise, I didn’t mean to knock you down, honest. I’m not used to this, see, and it’s all just a lot more overwhelming than I thought it would be. I promise, on my life, I didn’t want to knock you or anyone else down…” He continued to babble, hands moving and tone clearly becoming more and more agitated. 

“Fuckin’--” Brock wasn’t used to being caught so off-guard, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. As he reminded himself, there was no use in getting angry ninety percent of the time. He couldn’t change the past; he took inventory on his body and his fall for the future, of course, but it didn’t seem like he was badly bruised or anything, so he checked in with the other man to make sure he hadn’t gotten the brunt of the damage.

“You alright, man?” he asked as he sat up, rolling his shoulders before bringing himself to stand and trying to brush himself off. He hadn’t spent a fortune on the suit or anything but that wasn’t to say it was cheap, and he wasn’t about to willingly, knowingly walk around a full scale banger with any kind of dirt on his shoulders or his ass in a bright green suit. “It’s okay,” he reassured him, laughing a little bit with the depth and length of the guy’s apology. He seemed seriously high strung. “I appreciate you, it’s all good,” he promised, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s on me too if I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”

He took it all in, then, the guy’s apology and ho worked up he was getting with every passing word and cut him off. “Dude, it’s chill, I’m serious,” Brock laughed in spite of himself. He was a gregarious personality, loud and friendly, and he might not have been helping if the issue was noise, but he didn’t quite understand what the problem was yet. “It’s alright, I didn’t think you were walking around trying to knock anybody on the ground. You don’t seem mean enough to do that,” and that much was true. He wasn’t sure the guy could hurt a fly. “Why’s it so much? What’s got you going?”

Crystal grinned with an innocent smile as she was called out by him. “Oh, come on. Knocking back the second is going to be a piece of cake. I truly don’t know how , but I can handle a great deal of alcohol.” Hiccuping she grinned. “I can just pretend I never started, or you just need a quick catch up moment. 

“That sounds like a good amount of hard work pledging,” Brock pointed out, shaking his head gently at just how comfortable she was throwing the booze back. It wasn’t like he wasn’t plenty impressed, but she was showing no signs of a struggle, barely seemed like she was feeling the alcohol anywhere past a little tipsy. “Damn, well that depends,” he laughed, gesturing around the bar. “How many shots are we talking for me to catch up to? I’m down for a challenge but I ain’t finna die for it.”

“I mean, you could say that? But I wouldn’t worry about it too much, unless you think girls have cooties or something like that.” He laughed. “Nah, it’s not that big of a deal. Just a couple of stalkers. They’ll hopefully leave in a couple minutes when they lose the trail.”

Brock snorted at that one. That would complicate his life a whole hell of a lot. “I ain’t afraid of women, no,” he promised, looking behind him one more time. “What’d you do to get yourself a couple stalkers?” he checked, brows raised. “As long as I’m not your bodyguard or whatever right now we’re good, I just needed to check.”

Raising the glass as she took back the shot she smirked to the company beside her. “And you said I couldn’t take back another. So you going to buy my next round, or me? I mean either way another is flying down the door bud.” 

“I see you, Python,” Brock smirked. He liked anybody who knew how to have fun, and Crystal was having plenty of fun tonight. “I’ll buy you your next two but if you can’t knock the second back you owe me the next,” he laughed before letting the barman know it was on him. “Shoulda gotten started together, how we gonna know who’s winning unless we’re even?”

“Hey! Can you just look like you’re talking to me real, quick? I’m trying to avoid someone. Thanks, you’re a big help.” Noah turned so that his back was facing the rest of the street and with one last look, he turned to face his new friend.

“Yeah,” Brock answered before he gave it much thought, trying to come up with something to actually say to the dude and glancing over Noah’s shoulder, looking for any kind of approaching trouble. “You piss somebody off? And do I wanna be here if that somebody comes and shows up?”

“Ugh, the worst. Sorry about that. But, I guess that’s what mouth guards are for,” she laughed. “One of them called me ‘sweetheart’ once. He doesn’t spar with me anymore. Which is a damn shame because the looks on his face were hilarious.” She stretched with him. “Nah, resolutions are for mom’s who’re lookin’ to lose weight. And don’t worry, it’s not like I’ve gone soft; I’ve still got my speed bag in the garage.” She nodded. “Ah, school. I remember that nightmare.” She didn’t really do college, but still. “How’s it all going? You like your classes so far? Not really. My sister and I visited our dad for a weekend, but that was about it. Had a lot of people comin’ in because they thought their car was fucked up. Some people just don’t know about motors in the cold.” She shrugged. She made sure her gloves were tight before looking at him. “I’m ready when you are. And if you’re still tired from all those other guys, I’ll go easy on ya.” Audrey added with a playful wink.

“Hey, might as well be getting good use out of ‘em, right?” He laughed nice and loud at the mental image of what a guy’s face would look like on the street after being stupid enough to call Audrey Ramirez sweetheart. There was a reason she held so much of Brock’s respect, and her attitude toward people and toward New Year’s, apparently. She was just a cool person all around, and she could box, too. He liked a challenge. “Yeah, classes are goin’ fine, I just need to get my head back together for math and shit, y’know?” he gave her a sideways smile. “Can’t be a doctor without the tests to prove it, y’know? Calc’s been kicking my ass.” The family shit was something he could do without all in all; nothing had felt the same since Drew, but he was glad if she had comfort in her people. That was still important. “Good for you, good good,” he nodded as he shook out the stretches, bouncing on his toes, back and forth methodically. “I ain’t the one out there gettin’ rusty, though, am I?” he joked, throwing out a few high jabs off to the side to get warmed up before holding out his glove to touch to hers. “How long you got, mamí?”

“You know, this is usually a little bit easier if you stop talking.”

Brock wasn't exactly going for this tonight, but when a beautiful thing literally crawled into your lap, you took it as the blessing it was, he figured. "Yeah, no, sure," he mumbled, hands finding her hips and kissing back. She seemed like Claire's type, and that was normally enough for him.

Alright, wow. Big guy got friendly pretty quick. Okay. “Fair enough, we’ll try for the A.” It wasn’t so much that he didn’t think the other could get an A, it was mostly Nathan being worried he couldn’t explain well enough for an A. He was weird about that. “Uh…sounds good?” he chuckled. His one wouldn’t be anything serious, nothing he’d normally ask for. “Is this a thing that goes into effect once you make an A on anything, or does it have to be in the whole class?” Nathan said it like he was joking, but he was actually curious. “Yeah? Well, I can’t blame you, class isn’t fun.” Nathan propped his chin on a hand as he watched Brock do the problem, then pause. He squinted at the answer. “That’s right, but you’re missing a bit…” Quickly, Nathan scribbled out a similar problem, with a few tweaks just to get him to try and think. “Try that one so I can see what steps you’re skipping.”

Brock bit his lower lip, eyes narrowing as he thought about it. He liked the way this kid thought; big picture stuff was Brock’s thing, but the details were important, especially in a wager like this. “We’re gonna have to make some levels here, like you get to cash in a level one request if I ace a test, semester A or one on a final gets you anything you want that I don’t have to get arrested for,” he laughed. “You’re not gonna make me regret this, are you? Now I’m thinking maybe you dream a little bigger than I thought if you’re askin’ that type of question.” He nodded, took a long look at the next problem, trying to take it slow, murmuring to himself as he worked through it. He scrawled out an answer and frowned. “It just... It makes sense from there, right? Like I don’t know what else there is to show, it’s bullshit that that’s part of the grade.”

Nathan couldn’t help a frown. Wait…he was already passing and he…okay, well, maybe he didn’t understand people being motivated. Fair enough. “Well, shit, I guess I thought only people who had no other choice would come to me,” Nathan sighed. “Alright, well, do you want a B or an A instead, because I’ll have to put in different levels of effort for an A.” Once Brock flopped the book open, Nathan slid it toward himself, glancing at the page. It looked easy enough to him, but he wasn’t just going to say that. “Alright, so what trips you up? Try and do problem three for me.”

Brock laughed, couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that, and as he cuffed Nathan’s arm he shook his head. “Gimme your best effort and we’ll see how I do, how about that?” he offered, opening his arms in offer. “I’ll owe you one if I pull it up to an A, and you have my word, God’s honest, that I will. Whatever you want for it,” he grinned. “Really, I get most of it, it’s just the little shit in class, I don’t always pay the most attention to it, I guess. I got issues with that, I always have.” The latter half of that was mumbled as he put himself to work on the problem in question, pencil moving quickly across the page as he tried to work it out, pausing at a point. “Like I don’t know exactly what to do this step, showing work, but,” he jotted down the answer a few lines down. “That’s right, ain’t it?”

Oh, handshake, okay. Why had he not been expecting that? Still, he shook the hand, figuring he shouldn’t start off rude, and made himself comfortable in his chair, tucking his legs under him. “No, you’re the first person I’ve tutored since high school.” And…that hadn’t gone well, but it didn’t matter. “I figure I’ve gotten better at explaining things, so I bet I can get you at least a C, if not better.” And if all else failed, he could always ask for money for doing it himself.

Brock frowned a bit. It was no problem if he was just getting back into tutoring, that wasn’t a problem, but he wasn’t just gonna let the guy underestimate him, regardless. “I’m already at a C,” he laughed, keeping it light despite his own irritation. It was from his insecurity, and that didn’t have any place here. The guy didn’t do anything wrong. “I’ve got a solid seventy-eight, okay? Maybe I exaggerated a little bit, that’s on me. But okay grades ain’t med school grades, and this is the only thing I really gotta clean up, so...” He cracked his book open to a random page. “I can end up with some of the right shit, but half the time I don’t get how to... get there, y’know?”

Well, he’d…expecting something like this, but maybe not quite what he’d got. Or at least, for all his smarts, Nathan didn’t have anything snarky to say about ‘sports analyst’. He wasn’t quite sure what that was. Still, he slung his backpack down next to him and…well, tried to figure out where to start. Tutoring meant more money, but he wasn’t really a teacher. Well, he’d find a way to bullshit through this with little to no advanced terms used, then. Just basic calculus. “No problem,” he decided on saying. And of course, didn’t remember his name. “I’m Nathan. And you’re Brock, I hope. Otherwise I need to be somewhere else.”

Brock grinned, throwing out a hand to hit and shake. “Brock Pearson, you got it. Nathan, I’m counting on you, Calc has been killing me since I got back to the city after break. I don’t know if I just left half my brain back home or if they ramped it up and I missed the memo or whatever, y’know? But it’s kicking my ass right now and if everybody I been talking to is right, you’re the best dude for the job. You tutor a lot?”

“I don’t think anything, honestly,” Brock shrugged with a sweeping gesture. “Seriously. I don’t think anything can anymore. I got myself and my drive, I got support from my family and my girl, from everybody here and everybody who passed away. Like I said, though, I got me. I know I’m gonna make it happen no matter what. Everything I do is just moving towards that end goal, and it’s always in sight.”

“Tropical is the main one, the one that everyone thinks of when you think of you star sign,” Brit was quick to clarify. “So that’s nothing different. You probably already knew that,” She shuffled where she was sat to face him a little more. “So the tropical system is the more simplified one. It defines zodiacs based on the Earth’s location in regards to the Sun. Whereas sidereal zodiacs are based on the Earth’s location in regards to the sun, as well as the fixed stars.” The information rolled off her tongue like it was second nature.

Brock frowned. She was losing him fast on this one. "Okay, alright, so..." He tried to wrap his head around things enough to form a decent sentence but his understanding of this had been limited from the jump. "So I'm a Sagittarius, okay? I don't know which one that is except for that the internet told me, okay? So that's probably tropical? I'm a tropical Sagittarius?" He laughed, shoulders shaking. "So you're saying there's a whole different one where I'm not a Sagittarius and nobody even bothered telling me?"