What Makes a Good Man?

One more errand. Just one more errand to conclude and then he could meander back to the safety of his trailer — sure, while it wasn’t necessarily the most convenient abode, Arlo still found comfort in its warmth, though he wasn’t certain the park would be able to withstand the upcoming storm. Shit, it would be a total pain in the ass if he would have to pack up, meant he’d be staying over at his friend’s for the time being and the thought was draining his soul. Pushing his longer, jet-black locks, he was pacing around when he eavesdropped on the other guy’s frustration by accident. His curiosity got the best of him, and he prowled over with arched eyebrows. “Jesus, that sounds bad.” He spoke out, head craned to one side. “What happened? She got an emergency or something?” 

She hadn’t meant to stare or eavesdrop yet Coraline had ended up doing so. Standing in the aisle, holding onto her own cart while witnessing the very public meltdown this stranger was having. “No, I get it, I do.” Parenting was no easy chore, no matter who you were.

    It was a medicre day in the mediocre life of an otherwise retired psychiatrist. Renée hadn’t thought the move through but she knew that she just didn’t want to be in New York anymore, not when her ex and ex fiancé was there. Coming back to the West Coast was never something she had considered until she felt backed into a corner where snap decisions had to be made. As she walked out of the store, tote back draping from her shoulder and cane on the other side of her, her attention was drawn to the rather loud male shouting down the phone. Renée hadn’t meant to stare but she couldn’t protest seen as her eyes had met his and she was caught in the act. “Are you telling me someone’s just walked out on your kid? Or am I misinterpreting your whole ordeal?” She wouldn’t have usually questioned it but she found herself being really bored of doing the same old things every day.

Holden waited in line for the cashier with a few things in his cart when he heard the angry sounds of the man in front of him on the phone. From the sounds of it the phone call was regarding the babysitter and he just nodded and smiled a bit when the guy turned to him and explained what had just transpired. “No, totally understandable, man. I’ve got a kid of my own. How old’s yours?”

“i don’t mind, helping you sounds a hell of a lot more fun than– uh, than what i was going to do,” maren said with a smile, proud of herself for filtering the dig at her mother in front of a potential new client. she loaded her arms with bags skillfully, thanks to years of silly bag-carrying competitions between herself and her twin brother, then dutifully followed trevor as he went. “so, a cursing toddler, huh? sounds like a good time. you got your hands full, i bet.”

“Then fire her and give her a really fuckin’ bad review on Yelp if you wouldn’t call social services like me,” Cyrek responded, mildly cinched, unintentional in its lacking tone. Ever since he’d taken on the role of a parent from an exceptionally young age, taking it upon himself to call social services he’d do it again, no matter knowing how much the aftermath must have fucked him up, he had no problems bitching someone out if they couldn’t care for their child correctly. Especially his own. No exceptions could be made when they had the greater vulnerability and no means to care for themselves at a young age. Hell, he’d probably sue someone for it if he could afford a lawyer. Pro-bono didn’t come for civil cases, most of the time. “It’s already snowin’,” he added afterward, figuring if he stepped outside into the heavy snowfall, he’d be unhappy. The snowstorm had already been hitting the town, the possibility of a blizzard had yet to show itself yet. Picking out a couple cans of tomato soup from the shelf, the musician shook his head to acknowledge the apology, wanting to save it considering his ex-friend appeared to be in a hurry. He hardly had time for chit-chat himself with Carcosa waiting for him at home to continue packing for their get-away for Valentine’s, if the weather allowed them to slip out in the nick of time. How have you been? Brows furrowed together while he sought out the canned chickpeas, silently pondering how to answer a question simplistic and heavy. The blonde hardly owed anyone an explanation, and didn’t intend to divulge any of it to anyone in the middle of a grocery store, let alone to Trevor. 

It did arise awareness that a lot had happened. Damian breaking his heart– fuckin’ jerk, you’re always in my way– leaving him to wonder exactly where he’d gone wrong or if he’d merely been another object to use. The falling out with Tyler ( “don’t ever come back” ), crawling back to an ex with intention of making a mess of himself with blossomed bruises and bloody noses, metal cutting into his skin turned to glass and a bottle of Lithium that ended in a hospital visit, bet you thought I’d gotten buried six feet underground except it wasn’t Damian, it was Cyrek and ( YOU DON’T EVEN GIVE A FUCK, I COULD HAVE DIED! IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU BUT I LOVED YOU ) Cyrek alone with those ghosts in his head. Thinking about it all, even for a fractal of a second, provoked phantom sting in his abdomen, the kind that Carcosa’s hand cradling his cheek– migrating over his skin like she can wish away all his pain, tipping cheek into her palm to kiss with what affection he has left to offer with tremulous anxiety she might leave too– couldn’t entirely scare away when paired with the nasty little voice in his head that murmured you’ll never get better and lacking recognition of himself in the mirror. “Busy.” The response was easy, casual; he’d been quieter since his downward spiral that led to his suicide attempt. He was still searching for the life there in the wreckage, some days, looking to escape this place, scouring the walls for a way to climb out, and maybe it was better he had to take a hiatus on the band. If he couldn’t find his voice to talk, how could he sing? ( “I think I’m losin’ my voice.” He couldn’t ignore the silence in the room like the air had been sucked out. “I don’t know what to do now.” ) You can’t live in a storm. ( “I’m gettin’ out of here, I swear. Just you wait.” ) Run away from here, don’t– STOP. Tossing in a can of chickpeas and green beans, lifting a hand to tinker with his industrial piercing, he maneuvered the cart around Trevor. “Y’know how it is, haven’t seen you around either.”

“I probably bloody will... Same wit’ social services.. ‘Sides, who t’reatens t’leave a damn toddler alone in a damn snow storm?” Trevor was so tired of this babysitter’s bullshit by now, and if she left Killarney alone while he was getting back home, he was raising hell. When the other mentioned it was already snowing out, Trevor glanced up to the window at the front of the shop, chewng hard on his bottom lip to try and control himself from getting too upset. Calm down, Trevor. Everything will be fine. Killarney’s okay, just calm down. You have meds now, there’s no excuse or need to completely do a 180 and go ballistic. “Shite... Yer righ’...” He had to calculate in his head for a split second, an extra 5 minutes, so almost a damn half an hour until he fully got home and in the driveway. Shit... 

“is it jen tarley?” maren asked with an eye roll, sure that she was right before she’d gotten any confirmation. fuckin’ jen tarley. maren didn’t know how she did it, but the bitch was always finding gigs quicker than maren could, and she was jumping at the chance to snag a new regular from jen’s irresponsible clutches. “i hear she invites her boyfriend over while parents are gone anyway. listen, i’m available whenever you need me. do…do you need some help carrying anything?”

Running to the store for extra baby supplies in case the snowstorm did turn into a blizzard while he was gone and Alice found herself– miraculously– out of detergent to wash cloth diapers and clothes, he was filling up on disposable diapers and canisters of baby food. It would be easier than pureeing fresh fruit if his half-sister ran out and the snowstorm could last longer than anyone expected it to, or it could turn into nothing. Amaris was heavily bundled up, Eugenia insisting on spending time with Kasha before the storm front fully moved in. It was strange, yet a relief, simultaneously that she was growing closer to her biological mother. Although his skepticism lingered, perhaps Kasha could shape up to be a better mother than he expected her to. The endless debate as to whether people changed was up in the air for him, reflecting on his own firm resilience of himself throughout the years. From teenage Cyrek, even younger Cyrek, he never altered himself much, other than his increasing knowledge on how to navigate through life– apparently, someone trying to talk their babysitter despite the brewing blizzard with the heavy snowfall was none too wise. Pushing his cart toward the next aisle, he could have groaned aloud when he spotted Trevor in one of the aisles talking to his babysitter. Fortunately, it was cut off by the nip on his tongue when the man snapped, posture rigid and tempted to crawl out of his skin. The vocalist-slash-bartender could have thanked his lucky stars that Amaris had her pacifier in, worried she would start wailing due to the grate of the snarl if it were a fraction louder. “I doubt they’re gonna leave your kid unattended, that’d be unprofessional enough to get their business shut down by social services,” he pointed out, stopping in front of the canned goods and turning his mismatched eyes away. Another unwanted run-in at the store was really the last thing that he wanted before leaving for vacation, and the quicker he could get out before the front moved in for the evening, the better.

“C’mon, jus’... I’m like twenty minutes away right now. Jus’... Jus’ stay wit’ ‘im for a moment, please?!” He was practically begging the babysitter to just stay with Killarney for a few more minutes while he tried to get out of the damn store. “Look, I’ll bloody pay ye a bit more if y’st- No. No, don’t-!” He could hear a click as he moved the phone from his ear, absolutely enraged. “Fuckin’ hell!” He snarled out, glancing down at his grocery cart before noticing someone staring straight at him like he was crazy. “Babysitter issues..” He murmured under his breath, as if he absolutely had to explain what was going on.

Daniel’s heart stopped a beat when he realized who he was talking to. Trevor. It had felt like forever and so much had changed yet his eyes couldn’t help but stare when he looked at the man. He would split out into a grin if he wasn’t so caught up with the damage of his favorite car. He almost couldn’t hear what he was saying but Daniel tried to focus and started nodding his head. “That would be helpful! Please.” His attention was being pulled all over the place though Daniel thought he had to finish this issue fast so he could go back inside and maybe catch up with Trevor regardless his stress. “We just need to move out the tree and push the car somewhere safe. I’ll have it looked over later. It’s not safe out here.” He said while he looked over at Trevor making sure he was safe too.