@verseless-maeve
Wednesday Night
It’s late. Yet the tv plays before him, his eyes staring but not watching what is displayed on screen. He reclines on the sofa, Maeve curled up at his side asleep. Vincent isn’t tired.
The doorbell rings. Maeve stirs and Vincent sits up already alert.
Maeve looks up at Vincent, eyes narrowed, half-conscious.
…Were you expecting someone?
She mumbles.
No.
Vincent gets up and b-lines for the front door. There are only two people he knows who would show up at his door step this late. Neither option is particularly favorable to Vincent.
When he unlocks the door the smell of alcohol wafts through, louder than the sight of the disoriented person standing in the doorway. Vincent reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
Michael.
Mike leans against the door frame with heavy lidded eyes.
Bad news boss…
He slurs, beginning to slip down. Vincent grabs him before he can fall dragging him inside with a disgruntled sigh. The door slams shut.
Yes, I’m looking right at it.
Vincent hauls Mike over to the kitchen part-time dinning room, sitting him down at the small table. Mike slouches over in the seat.
Alright I’m just gonna come out with it, I hate it when you get shit-faced. Everyone does actually, all our friends. I took a vote last time we were all together.
Maeve, hearing the noisy drag of a chair, rushes into the dinning room slash kitchen. Her eyes widen. The father of her child and ex boyfriend in the flesh.
Mike?!
Mike whips his head up at the sound of her voice. Bad course of action in hindsight. He’s overcome by a dizzy spell.
Fuck…she’s still here?
He turns to Vincent, ignoring Maeve.
It’s nice to see you too, Michael.
Maeve quips. She addresses Vincent next.
What the hell is he doing here?
Vincent shrugs with an impassive expression.
Michael, why are you here?
Mike leans back in the chair, his stomach turning over. He squeezes his eyes shut.
I’m out.
What?
I’m out of a job dude! He…Clay…he kicked me out of the business…tossed me aside the moment there was someone better…like I was fucking dirt…like I didn’t matter. Fucked me over. Our…shit…our plan… can’t continue.
Vincent’s eye twitches.
…You had one task. One. Easy, simple. You’ve gotta be kidding me right me.
Mike groans.
Okay…well if you think about it…maybe that task costed me my job.
Vincent throws up his hands.
That task was the key to get you out of that job! That’s why we made the plan in the first place! But we weren’t there yet idiot! What in gods green earth are you going on about?! ‘Cause I’ve had revenge on the brain this whole time. You…whose side are you really on?
Maeve clears her throat, arms folded across her chest.
As much as I am interested I am also hella confused. Vinny what gaps am I missing?
Vinny?
Remember when I told you about how I’ve been helping Mike but lost my brother in the process? Well that help has been sabotaging Clay’s drug network by replacing the product with white grains that are not said product. In doing this we destroy Clay’s business and therefore with no more business Mike is free to go. I mean, I was sure that’s what he wanted but now I’m not so sure.
Be sure, damnit. But whatever, doesn’t matter anymore because all that is not going to happen anymore. I’ve been cut off…Clay’s found a new gold star…can’t replace shit while he rises again. And when that happens…we’re fucking dead, man.
Dead? You can’t be serious. I swear to god-
Don’t. Clay may have found a way to get his money back up but I know him. He won’t let this slight go…he’ll want to find the root of why things went sideways. And there’s no loyalty among thieves. The guys will snitch me out so fast…we can’t pay to keep their silence either…
Michael, I am not going down with you. This is all your fault, your mess, your mistakes. I’m your friend but I will not die with you. I have a life.
And I don’t? What, the life of a junkie, a drunk, a dealer isn’t worth shit? The drug sabotage was your idea! All yours!
I wouldn’t have had to come up with it if you weren’t so damn selfish! You told me you wanted me to watch your dog then brought drug money into my apartment and dumped your dirty laundry on me and my brother without a care. My brother won’t even talk to me anymore because of what you’ve roped us into!
Mike pushes himself up from the chair and places a hand upon the table for balance.
Your brother won’t talk to you because you’re a paranoid schizophrenic who refuses to get help and take medication! Adam has not known peace living with you. No wonder he jumped at the first opportunity to get away. He wanted to leave you for months, told me so himself! Asshole!
Vincent reels his fist back and punches Mike in the face, knocking the man into the table. Maeve shouts nearby but Vincent ignores her. He is on Mike within a second, hands going for the throat, wrapping around Mike’s neck and squeezing. Mike struggles helpless but eventually manages to find the strength to kick Vincent in the groin. Vincent cries out, winces falling back, and Mike takes the chance to shove him to the ground, kicks him while he’s down. Mike straddles Vincent and backhands him across the face before spitting on him. Vincent jabs Mike in his side, hard, sharp, pain inflicted. Mike cowers, moving to the side, but as uncoordinated as he is intoxicated he ends up falling on his back. Vincent flips onto Mike and throws another punch, then another, and another. Until a body jumps onto him, grabbing onto his arm to halt his movement.
Maeve wrestles to keep Vincent’s fist away from Mike’s visibly beaten face. Or well that’s what it feels like. One, she’s fatigued, and two, she’s a woman. She’s just trying her best. Bystander was never a good look on her anyway.
Oh my god cut it out you two! Are you animals?! At this rate you’ll kill each other before Clay even gets the chance to. Do you want to finish off his job for him!?
Vincent ceases his aggression. Maeve has made the main issue clear. Death at Clay’s hand. They don’t have time to fight, they’re running out of time to live. Vincent gently pushes Maeve off then goes to lean against the counter nearby. Maeve moves to reside next to him. They watch as Mike sits up slowly, head turnt in their direction, wounded yet the fire in his eyes has left. Silence reigns.
Maeve speaks up after a few minutes.
So…it seems to me that you both are men marked for death. May I make a suggestion?
Sure.
Maeve rolls her eyes.
I think we should kill Clay before he can kill you two. Wait for an opening, but not too long a wait of course.
Mike’s rational thought is detached from his brain, broken heart on its own, raw impulsive words.
I can’t kill the devil! I can’t kill…interdimensional monsters don’t count.
Maeve raises an eyebrow.
Vincent…I think you hit Mike a little too hard.
Vincent shakes his head in annoyance.
Just ignore him. He always says stuff like that when he’s drunk or high, monsters, dark wizards, an upside down world, it doesn’t mean anything. Your suggestion though…It means a great deal. I like it.
You do? Because it’s kind of on the nose, don’t you think?
Maeve, I’ve been wanting to kill Clay since he first hurt my brother. There have been things holding me back though, like the law, and morality. But honestly…screw it all. I’m…tired. I just want this chaos to be over.
No, no, no. Vincent you are the last person who should be trusted with a weapon. We don’t need to worry about you changing your mind and turning the weapon on yourself instead.
Please do everyone a favor and shut up forever. Not cool man.
Maeve grimaces then yawns.
I think a bit of quiet time would do us all some good right now. It’s been an…eventful night. We can continue this discussion in the morning. Huh, boys?
Mike moves to get up.
I’m going home.
Maeve is at his side in the next moment. She grabs onto his upper arm. He stares down at her, vision fuzzy at the edges.
Maeve shakes her head resolute.
Not in the condition you’re in. Hell no. Will doesn’t deserve to deal with you like this. Being compassionate and considerate is an option.
The mention of Will strikes a cord within Mike’s heart. He’s the worse. Mike hangs his head, subtly nods.
Whatever, Maeve.
Vincent walks over.
You can take the couch. Keep the attitude to a minimum yea?
Mike huffs.
Yea dad. Fuck you, dude.
He shoulder checks Vincent as he walks past him, heading for the couch.
Maeve sighs then turns to Vincent who scrubs a hand across his face. He winces when he accidentally touches his lip, which is cut. Maeve reaches out. Careful of the wound.
Will you be okay?
I will be okay.
Vincent takes her hand and kisses the palm lovingly.
