― Speeches for Dr Frankenstein, Margaret Atwood

(  lyric  dialogue  prompts  taken  from  various  hozier  songs.  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ i’ve walked the earth and there are so few here that know how dark the night and just how cold the wind can blow. ❜

❛ i’ve no more kept my warmth than blood upon the snow. ❜

❛ it’s not my arms that will fail me, but this world takes more strength than it gave me. ❜

❛ the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. ❜

❛ i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

❛ i’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife. ❜

❛ good god, let me give you my life. ❜

❛ so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. ❜

❛ every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside. ❜

❛ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

❛ would things be easier if there was a right way? ❜

❛ honey, there is no right way. ❜

❛ i fall in love just a little, a little bit every day with someone new. ❜

❛ when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel like a person for a moment of my life. ❜

❛ you don’t know what hell you put me through. ❜

❛ there’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me. ❜

❛ i have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me. ❜

❛ i’d be home with you. ❜

❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

❛ no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her. ❜

❛ what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth? ❜

❛ i will not ask where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

❛ just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do. ❜

❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜

❛ you don’t understand, you should never know, how easy you are to need. ❜

❛ don’t let me in with no intention to keep me. ❜

❛ don’t feed me — i will come back. ❜

❛ i’ve known the warmth of your doorways. through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ❜

❛ still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs. ❜

❛ i need you to run to me, run until you feel your lungs bleeding. ❜

❛ when i was a child, i heard voices… some would sing and some would scream. ❜

❛ i learned the voices died with me. ❜

❛ don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep ‘em on a leash. ❜

❛ you’ve done me wrong for a long time. but after all you’ve done, i never changed my mind. ❜

❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

❛ nothing fucks with my baby. ❜

❛ if i was born as a black thorn tree, i’d wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies. ❜

❛ ain’t it warming you, the world going up in flames? ❜

❛ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted, but i’m singing like a bird about it now.❜

❛ i’m almost me again, she’s almost you. ❜

❛ i’ve had no love like your love. from nobody. ❜

❛ make your good love known to me, or just tell me about your day. ❜

❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

❛ that’s the kinda love i’ve been dreaming of. ❜

❛ i fell in love with the fire long ago. ❜

❛ with each love i cut loose, i was never the same. ❜

❛ i had been lost to you, sunlight, and flew like a moth to you. ❜

❛ know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty, oh my sunlight. ❜

you never told me that. i can't believe you never told me.

what difference does it make?

no, no, no, don't leave me! please!

i failed you. is that what you want me to say?

was it all a lie? all this time?

so... when do you leave? what time? so i can be ready.

why did it take you so long to tell me? how long have you been holding this in?

i was wrong.

is this it? is this all there is?

at least give me one last dance.

all the exits are blocked. we're trapped.

there's too much blood.

you're the worst person i've ever met.

you're just as broken as i am.

i really thought we could work things out.

so stupid of me to think you actually cared.

you're just going to carry on and pretend like everything's fine when it's not fine.

go on without me. i can handle this.

don't tell me i'm too late.

i told you to leave me alone.

there's no use in trying anymore. it's over.

i should have known. i should have known all along.

i need you to be honest with me. tell me the truth. i deserve the truth.

you failed me.

i wish i never met you.

it's over. go home.

i feel something broken inside me. you can't fix it. no one can.

just take some deep breaths. in and out. you're gonna be fine.

you used to be better than this.

there's no way out.

what the hell was that for?

if you stay here, you'll die. do you understand?

how dare you speak to me like that!

am i too late?

you have to believe me. i didn't mean for this to happen.

i used to think you were perfect. i guess i was wrong.

so this is how it ends? just like that?

we're running out of time.

when were you going to tell me the truth?

how long has it been since we spoke? feels like years.

when did this start? how long has this been going on?

you never really loved me. it was all fake.

who was that? why were they here? why did you let them in?

i came as fast as i could.

what the hell did you think would happen?

can i even trust you?

i don't know who i am anymore.

i can't lose you again.

you are my biggest regret.

what good will it do?

just keep pressure on the wound, okay?

how could you do this to me?

i said get out! get out of here!

i'm never speaking to you again.

i tried to stop it!

you're so fucking stupid.

it's never been okay.

good riddance.

get out of here! i'll handle this!

i can't believe you. i can't believe you did this to me.

you were a good person once. i looked up to you.

i never should have listened to you. i'm such a fool.

don't lie to me! i know when you're lying!

why the hell did you do that?

i've never been wanted. not really. not by anyone.

i never loved you.

i've been dealing with this my whole life.

it was all a lie.

you forgot my birthday.

i'm a monster.

you actually believed that shit?

you think i would just stick around and let you treat me like that?

are you actually leaving?

can i kiss you one last time?

i can't believe i gave up my life for you. i gave up everything for you.

i can't lose you, too!

for what it's worth, there's no one i would rather fight alongside.

hang on for me, all right? don't leave me. please don't go.

i deserve better than this. i deserve better than you.

good! get out of here! i didn't want you here anyway!

i made it up as i went along.

things are going to get worse before they get better.

i don't think we're getting out of this alive.

we're not gonna make it.

get the fuck out of my face.

you never told me that. i can't believe you never told me.

what difference does it make?

no, no, no, don't leave me! please!

i failed you. is that what you want me to say?

was it all a lie? all this time?

so... when do you leave? what time? so i can be ready.

why did it take you so long to tell me? how long have you been holding this in?

i was wrong.

is this it? is this all there is?

at least give me one last dance.

all the exits are blocked. we're trapped.

there's too much blood.

you're the worst person i've ever met.

you're just as broken as i am.

i really thought we could work things out.

so stupid of me to think you actually cared.

you're just going to carry on and pretend like everything's fine when it's not fine.

go on without me. i can handle this.

don't tell me i'm too late.

i told you to leave me alone.

there's no use in trying anymore. it's over.

i should have known. i should have known all along.

i need you to be honest with me. tell me the truth. i deserve the truth.

you failed me.

i wish i never met you.

it's over. go home.

i feel something broken inside me. you can't fix it. no one can.

just take some deep breaths. in and out. you're gonna be fine.

you used to be better than this.

there's no way out.

what the hell was that for?

if you stay here, you'll die. do you understand?

how dare you speak to me like that!

am i too late?

you have to believe me. i didn't mean for this to happen.

i used to think you were perfect. i guess i was wrong.

so this is how it ends? just like that?

we're running out of time.

when were you going to tell me the truth?

how long has it been since we spoke? feels like years.

when did this start? how long has this been going on?

you never really loved me. it was all fake.

who was that? why were they here? why did you let them in?

i came as fast as i could.

what the hell did you think would happen?

can i even trust you?

i don't know who i am anymore.

i can't lose you again.

you are my biggest regret.

what good will it do?

just keep pressure on the wound, okay?

how could you do this to me?

i said get out! get out of here!

i'm never speaking to you again.

i tried to stop it!

you're so fucking stupid.

it's never been okay.

good riddance.

get out of here! i'll handle this!

i can't believe you. i can't believe you did this to me.

you were a good person once. i looked up to you.

i never should have listened to you. i'm such a fool.

don't lie to me! i know when you're lying!

why the hell did you do that?

i've never been wanted. not really. not by anyone.

i never loved you.

i've been dealing with this my whole life.

it was all a lie.

you forgot my birthday.

i'm a monster.

you actually believed that shit?

you think i would just stick around and let you treat me like that?

are you actually leaving?

can i kiss you one last time?

i can't believe i gave up my life for you. i gave up everything for you.

i can't lose you, too!

for what it's worth, there's no one i would rather fight alongside.

hang on for me, all right? don't leave me. please don't go.

i deserve better than this. i deserve better than you.

good! get out of here! i didn't want you here anyway!

i made it up as i went along.

things are going to get worse before they get better.

i don't think we're getting out of this alive.

we're not gonna make it.

get the fuck out of my face.

weepinglions

Dom’s hand reached out and palmed the lighter, mumbled a quiet thanks to the stranger. He thinks he might hear a soft chuckle leave the man, but he’s also too buzzed to be sure, so he doesn’t think much of it, ears as deceptive as he has to be. He is sure, however, that the man’s Spanish rolls off his tongue as smooth as the whiskey he’s been downing. Dominic’s dark brow perked, and even darker eyes narrowed as he lit the cigarette dangling from his mouth. He uses one hand to shield the flame from the winter wind, and considers the stranger. 

He looks like a Ranch Hand who made one-too-many wrong turns, and somehow ended up on the shady side of a city he has no business being in. Dom very vaguely remembers going to the Spanish Rodeos in Cuba, he was young and all his uncles would make wagers on the Vaqueros till they were piss drunk, screaming and fighting among the dirt and blood. He doesn’t remember them looking quite like the one in front of them, because this one.....seems less rough around the edges; gentle, almost. He’s got soft brown eyes, and his smile isn’t quite as tipsy as Dominic’s, but, it’s the kindest one in the shitty little bar. Dom slides the lighter back across the picnic table, and takes a long, grateful drag from the cigarette. 

“Es Dominic.” He says simply, his name leaving him like a secret he doesn’t quite want to share, but does anyway for the sake of being another lame local at the bar. Dom scratches under his beard, the grey hairs amongst the dark ones stick out and show his aging. His eyes are still on the other man’s and he tries to not make it weird, like he’s not sizing him up, because he’s not, not really. He doesn’t look like a threat, in anyway, but, it’d be rather interesting if it was some sort of test from his buddies in the Org. Dom only nods over at him, and cocks his brow again, always the left one, because the right’s got an ugly scar he doesn’t quite care to draw attention to and answer questions about. 

 “Y tú? Te ves muy lejos de casa.” Dom asks, it’s simple in the way he words it; he just wants to see if he’ll be as eager to give his name as he was to find out Dominic’s, and if he’s really far from home.

"Dominic... Hm.. Soy Hugo." This time the small chuckle that escaped his lips was on purpose, as he rolled his name over his tongue, as if he could taste his desires and--

Hugo blinked nonchalantly, and grinned, taking another swig of his whiskey, unfortunately the last few drops. It was starting to hit him that he hadn't had any alcohol for over 24 hours, and as he'd been trying to save the money he had for experiences not food, he hadn't eaten in the past 5 hours. This gave a wonderfully dangerous feeling of tipsy invulnerability that he knew would get him into trouble eventually.

"I'm not," Huey continued, this time in English. His family, namely Carla, found it fascinating his inability to maintain Spanish conversation while he was drunk. Huey, didn't care. This stranger spoke both, and in this moment, that's all he cared about. "I'm from Montana. Little ranch down in the Southern part of the state. You on the other hand..." Hugo grinned once more, this time feeling it split his face and warm his cheeks, the rye whiskey bathing him in a thick blanket of happiness and warmth. Fuck, I love whiskey. "...you look like you were born and raised here, Mr. Popular."

“Dígame, what does a city like Chicago have that’s pulled you off your horses?” Dominic asked, and his eyes drop to the now empty glass of whiskey that sits in front of Hugo. He’s polished it off quite well, and a few honey brown droplets wet his bowlike lips, a sweet shine glistening on their plumpness. Dom let’s his eyes linger for a few seconds, before he gets paranoid that Hugo will catch the glint in them, and rips them away to the couple laughing on the strip below. 

“Ah, well, you’re not too far off. ‘M from Santiago, briefly. Lived here long enough to call myself a local, ‘suppose.” Dom answered, nonchalant as always when dealing with strangers. “I frequent this little gem enough to also be considered a regular, but not popular.” He counters, knuckles rapping against the wood of the picnic table. Hugo’s grinning like he’s maybe almost had one too many, but what’s one more? 

“D’ya want another? Mr. Popular’s treat. It’s not every evening you meet a rancher on the Southside.” Dominic hummed lowly, nodding down at Hugo’s empty glass, before raising two fingers to Kat as she walks by, politely thanking her with a soft nod. She gives him a look as she sees Hugo across from him, but shrugs it off as she heads back to the bar. Hugo’s face looks like it’s the warmest one on the little patio, and Dom wants to see if it’s the drink or himself making him blush like he is. 

   “Alright, Huey. Just one more. Just one more and you’ll never have to see any of these assholes again.”    Hugo peered at himself wearily in the mirror. He’d been holed up in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes, going through waves of anxious nausea–or maybe it had been the twelve Prickly Pear ales he’d guzzled out of the same anxiety. When Carla asked him to come to the community center for a going away party, she’d neglected to mention that she’d invited half the people in town. Much to his chagrin, that was hardly an exaggeration. Hugo had tried counting the people as they’d been coming in, and lost count at a cool 250, but they had just kept pouring in. He was able to stand the faked tears and half-hearted send-offs for all of half an hour, or roughly 12 pale ales, before he’d excused himself to the bathroom.    “How you doin’ in there, hon?” Hugo blinked, shaking his head as he heard Carla bang against the door and call in for him.    “I’m fine, just finishin’ up!” Splashing water on his face quickly, he gave his reflection one more look over. He appeared to look as tired as he felt, but they’d have to deal.     “Hope no one’s still expecting much.” Hugo pushed open the door and found himself in an empty auditorium, or…mostly empty. There stood Carla, her husband Jose, and a couple other people he’d grown fond of in the town. Gail, over at People’s Harvest, Todd at Ace’s Hardware… Hugo teared up as he tried to hide his sadness with a smile.    “What’s all this…? Where’d everyone go?” Hugo’s question was met with laughter from Carla.     “Oh, hon, we could tell when you wouldn’t come out of the bathroom that maybe I’d gone a little overboard. So, we packed everyone up some food and drinks, and sent them back on their way.” Carla walked up, and Hugo could tell from years of looking at this same face…she was desperately trying to keep her composure just as much as he was.    Hugo reached his arm out, gently grabbing her head and pulling until she lay against his chest in a tight hug. Carla was all of 5′6″, just tall enough for his 6′3″ frame to make the position work. All it took was that skin contact for the two of them to devolve into tears. She’d been his best friend, his sister, his life, his family, his everything for so long that it almost felt like a breakup, an end. For the briefest of moments, he contemplated if he’d even made the right decision. How could a trip across the nation be a good idea if it hurt so bad?    “And don’t you even think about staying, puta.” Carla pulled herself out of the hug, punching his shoulder on the way out before wiping her tears with the back of her shirt sleeve, making Hugo laugh. He swore, sometimes she could read his mind.    “No ma’am, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He threw up his hands, his sleeves wet and his eyes puffy as he grinned at her. Carla swung a final time, but Hugo swiftly dodged and gave out a short unintentional giggle as he did.     “And don’t call me ma’am, puta!” Grabbing his sleeve, she gave him another couple of whacks, ending the playful exchange with another tight hug. “I love you, you make sure you come back to us when you find yourself.”    The small group left exchanged a final round of hugs, good lucks, tears, and gifts of snack baskets from Gail and a pack of cigarettes and a crisp $20 from Todd–the nicest gesture he’d actually ever received from Todd. By the end of the night, Hugo had felt a sense of peace creep through him, leaving behind only excitement for the journey to the east he’d been dreaming of for so long.

—

   “Hey, Siri…Take me to Hopleaf Bar.”    “Okay. This is what I found on the internet for hot tea bar.”    “No fuck you, stupid robot…” Hugo rolled his eyes with an agitated sigh, grabbing his phone and opening the map app with one quick motion. As if by a professional in the sport, he typed in the name of his destination with the hand that wasn’t gripping a cigarette and the steering wheel, and pressed go. Placing the phone back in the cradle that held it on the dash, Hugo relaxed into the seat and let the aux cord and the highway keep his thoughts calm and clear.    It’d been a long 24 hours since he’d left his home and family behind in Darby, but he hadn’t given himself much time to mourn. His route had taken him through all of his home state, all of North Dakota, which he hadn’t even deemed worthy to stop outside of gas, cigarettes, and food, Minnesota where he’d stopped for the night to regain his energy and to hit up the bars in Saint Paul, and finally through Wisconsin. A lot of the states he’d experienced had the same general vibe–a lot of open lands, with sporadic big cities. Perhaps that was why he’d not felt homesick as of yet?    Hugo had just hopped into his car after stopping for a sandwich and a pack of cigs at a convenience store in Milwaukee when the radio had informed him of a live band night at a bar in Chicago called the Hopleaf Bar.    I like music, and I like beer, and I gotta get off this damned road before I blow my own head off He’d thought, and so the journey continued. As any true nomad knows, the journey is more bearable with a destination in mind. Or was that just his own opinion? He didn’t care enough to process any more of that thought train and set off for the hour and forty minutes he had until he’d arrive at the bar.

—

Dominic held his cigarette in his chest; he inhaled, a long drag to feign off the jonesin’ his fingers have been doing all day. They ached, swollen, almost red, raw and peeling, from when they kissed a man’s jaw earlier in the day. Man, the man, the hit, first of the week. Some transplant faux local, with a bite bigger than his bark, who bit off more than he could chew. The past week was a tired, piss poor game of cat-and-mouse, and Dominic felt like he was both the cat and the mouse, willingly; because of the boredom. Sure, the guy had kept him busy for the better part of his week, but he was as boring as he was a bad con-man. Dominic finished the job easy enough, nothing like an ambush in a dim parking garage, on the shadier part of Southside Chicago. Bloody knuckles and a silencer was all it took to do him in, and now here he is, Hopleaf Bar, celebrating his victory with bottles of Cruzcampo and the occasional Spanish rum. 

Hopleaf Bar is one of the many dive bars on the Southside strip of Chicago. It’s also the only one where the Org doesn’t frequent as much, so naturally, Dominic’s gravitated towards it since the blossoming of their little arrangement. It’s small, smokey, and reminds him of the fonder parts of his home in Santiago. Dominic’s been a regular for years now, on and off on the weekends, and even sometimes during the weekdays, if a business venture went a little south. He knows the owner as well as the next local drunk; a college drop out named Nicholas, who insists everyone call him Nicky, so they do. The booze is cheap, and the people mind their business, so Dominic just deals with it. The bartenders have been here for the better part of the last decade, and know Dominic, or rather, the facade of Dominic, he maintains for a sliver of normality. He knows about their personal lives, hears all about their shitty relationships, and their kids’ soccer games. It’s overwhelming to listen to more often than not, but it’s something he doesn’t have—will likely never have—so he listens. 

 Kat’s on shift now, and he knew she would be, of course he did—he knows everything about these people— this bar, this city. Dominic nursed quite a few Gran Reserva’s, and she’s on about her no-good boyfriend who isn’t paying his side of bills for their shoebox of an apartment. Dominic’s cigarette dangled between his lips, hand in cheek, as she goes on and on about wanting to give him an ultimatum. 

“He doesn’t clean up behind himself, and I’m left elbow deep with the mess he created. I dunno, Dom—what do you think?” Kat sighed, elbows rested on the sticky bartop. Her blue eyes bore into his, and he can tell she’s just at her wit’s end with her situation. Lucky for Dom, he is, too, but from listening to it. Dominic wrinkled his nose, and rubbed just gently under his eye, like he can rub the exhaustion away with a flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow and try to focus on the dingy clock behind the bar. If his eyes aren’t deceiving him, it’s half past 7:30 or so now, which means the band is going to be starting up soon, and he’s 5 or so beers too deep to be a mere few feet away from the music. Dom exhaled, blowing out the smoke away from Kat, since she’s directly across from him. He ashes the cigarette in a cheap ceramic ashtray, his fingerless wool gloves are sticky with the droplets of beer that fell from his beard, and smell like thick, stale smoke. He cocked a brow, one that’s got a scar right through the end of it, and sighed.

“I think, he’s just sucking the life from you, cariño. And you deserve better, much, much better. If you ever wanna get rid of him, just let me know, and I’ll take care of it, muñequita, I will.   But, I’m way too fucking buzzed to sit here and listen to this band again.” 

Dom coughed, then nodded over to the band setting up on the little stage that isn’t really a stage. He hasn’t performed in awhile, months at least, and music of any kind has been pretty numbing to him lately. Dominic took her hand in his, and squeezed it, before he nodded and puts his thick brown wool coat back on, to head outside for a few smokes. He pushed open the door and the winter wind blows through his thick, dark brown curls. He almost winces, homesickness for Cuba always hits harder when the winters bleed him. Dom is usually talkative enough to people, the regulars. Today, he just offers some nods and quick greetings, as some of them clap him on the shoulder and break out into smiles when they see him work his way around them. The alcohol’s got his head buzzing slightly, so he fiddled for a pack of cheap cigarettes he won on a gamble, and has it between his teeth when his lighter won’t emit a flame. 

“Carajo, of course.” Dom mumbles under his breath, as he sat down at a picnic table towards the back of the patio. It’s not his usual spot, but it’s far enough away from the crowd that it’s almost peaceful. He sighs, and tosses the lighter over the patio, landing it in a trashcan that usually only sees vomit. He’s hunched over and takes the cigarette from his mouth, and cocks a brow when he’s realized there’s a man at the opposite side of the picnic table. Dom stops grumbling when he sees him, and it only takes him a few seconds to know he’s never been to this bar, and he definitely isn’t local. Dominic notices the cigarette he takes a deep drag from, and offers him a polite smile, or something reminiscent of one, and asks—

“Hey, uh, excuse me. Do you got a lighter I can borrow for a second, please? Mine’s just gone out.” 

Hugo eyed the man who’d just exited the door of the bar onto the patio, and it appeared he wasn’t the only person who was immediately enraptured by the figure in the doorway. It seemed that the moment this man stepped out into the cold air, he’d become the most important person to roam the Earth.

Claps on the back? Who is this guy?

Taking another long pull of his cigarette, he kept his eyes trained on the mysterious–and frankly handsome–stranger. Hugo found himself looking the man up and down before he could even register that he was being targeted by said man. Or, rather, his table had been.

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome sat at the other end of his table, and as he did so, Huey did what he could to keep his mouth from hanging open. Up close, he was stunning. Dark eyes, dark hair, a dangerous look… Without a second thought to stop it, he let out a soft chuckle, and immediately put the cigarette into his mouth as if he could take the sound back. Taking another drag as it hung between his lips, he dug out his lighter from his jeans pocket, sliding it down the picnic table’s length to the wanting stranger.

“Como te llamas?” Huey eyed Mr. Slick with a tipsy grin, taking another swig of his drink as he did so. It wasn’t necessarily a test, but back in Montana, he hadn’t had a lot of locals to speak his family’s native tongue with and this man looked much too…exotic…to not understand him. Then again, even your everyday white American generally knew how to say standard phrases, so what sort of test is that really?

He looks like a Ranch Hand who made one-too-many wrong turns, and somehow ended up on the shady side of a city he has no business being in. Dom very vaguely remembers going to the Spanish Rodeos in Cuba, he was young and all his uncles would make wagers on the Vaqueros till they were piss drunk, screaming and fighting among the dirt and blood. He doesn’t remember them looking quite like the one in front of them, because this one.....seems less rough around the edges; gentle, almost. He’s got soft brown eyes, and his smile isn’t quite as tipsy as Dominic’s, but, it’s the kindest one in the shitty little bar. Dom slides the lighter back across the picnic table, and takes a long, grateful drag from the cigarette. 

“Es Dominic.” He says simply, his name leaving him like a secret he doesn’t quite want to share, but does anyway for the sake of being another lame local at the bar. Dom scratches under his beard, the grey hairs amongst the dark ones stick out and show his aging. His eyes are still on the other man’s and he tries to not make it weird, like he’s not sizing him up, because he’s not, not really. He doesn’t look like a threat, in anyway, but, it’d be rather interesting if it was some sort of test from his buddies in the Org. Dom only nods over at him, and cocks his brow again, always the left one, because the right’s got an ugly scar he doesn’t quite care to draw attention to and answer questions about. 

 “Y tú? Te ves muy lejos de casa.” Dom asks, it’s simple in the way he words it; he just wants to see if he’ll be as eager to give his name as he was to find out Dominic’s, and if he’s really far from home.

   “Alright, Huey. Just one more. Just one more and you’ll never have to see any of these assholes again.”    Hugo peered at himself wearily in the mirror. He’d been holed up in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes, going through waves of anxious nausea–or maybe it had been the twelve Prickly Pear ales he’d guzzled out of the same anxiety. When Carla asked him to come to the community center for a going away party, she’d neglected to mention that she’d invited half the people in town. Much to his chagrin, that was hardly an exaggeration. Hugo had tried counting the people as they’d been coming in, and lost count at a cool 250, but they had just kept pouring in. He was able to stand the faked tears and half-hearted send-offs for all of half an hour, or roughly 12 pale ales, before he’d excused himself to the bathroom.    “How you doin’ in there, hon?” Hugo blinked, shaking his head as he heard Carla bang against the door and call in for him.    “I’m fine, just finishin’ up!” Splashing water on his face quickly, he gave his reflection one more look over. He appeared to look as tired as he felt, but they’d have to deal.     “Hope no one’s still expecting much.” Hugo pushed open the door and found himself in an empty auditorium, or…mostly empty. There stood Carla, her husband Jose, and a couple other people he’d grown fond of in the town. Gail, over at People’s Harvest, Todd at Ace’s Hardware… Hugo teared up as he tried to hide his sadness with a smile.    “What’s all this…? Where’d everyone go?” Hugo’s question was met with laughter from Carla.     “Oh, hon, we could tell when you wouldn’t come out of the bathroom that maybe I’d gone a little overboard. So, we packed everyone up some food and drinks, and sent them back on their way.” Carla walked up, and Hugo could tell from years of looking at this same face…she was desperately trying to keep her composure just as much as he was.    Hugo reached his arm out, gently grabbing her head and pulling until she lay against his chest in a tight hug. Carla was all of 5′6″, just tall enough for his 6′3″ frame to make the position work. All it took was that skin contact for the two of them to devolve into tears. She’d been his best friend, his sister, his life, his family, his everything for so long that it almost felt like a breakup, an end. For the briefest of moments, he contemplated if he’d even made the right decision. How could a trip across the nation be a good idea if it hurt so bad?    “And don’t you even think about staying, puta.” Carla pulled herself out of the hug, punching his shoulder on the way out before wiping her tears with the back of her shirt sleeve, making Hugo laugh. He swore, sometimes she could read his mind.    “No ma’am, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He threw up his hands, his sleeves wet and his eyes puffy as he grinned at her. Carla swung a final time, but Hugo swiftly dodged and gave out a short unintentional giggle as he did.     “And don’t call me ma’am, puta!” Grabbing his sleeve, she gave him another couple of whacks, ending the playful exchange with another tight hug. “I love you, you make sure you come back to us when you find yourself.”    The small group left exchanged a final round of hugs, good lucks, tears, and gifts of snack baskets from Gail and a pack of cigarettes and a crisp $20 from Todd–the nicest gesture he’d actually ever received from Todd. By the end of the night, Hugo had felt a sense of peace creep through him, leaving behind only excitement for the journey to the east he’d been dreaming of for so long.

—

   “Hey, Siri…Take me to Hopleaf Bar.”    “Okay. This is what I found on the internet for hot tea bar.”    “No fuck you, stupid robot…” Hugo rolled his eyes with an agitated sigh, grabbing his phone and opening the map app with one quick motion. As if by a professional in the sport, he typed in the name of his destination with the hand that wasn’t gripping a cigarette and the steering wheel, and pressed go. Placing the phone back in the cradle that held it on the dash, Hugo relaxed into the seat and let the aux cord and the highway keep his thoughts calm and clear.    It’d been a long 24 hours since he’d left his home and family behind in Darby, but he hadn’t given himself much time to mourn. His route had taken him through all of his home state, all of North Dakota, which he hadn’t even deemed worthy to stop outside of gas, cigarettes, and food, Minnesota where he’d stopped for the night to regain his energy and to hit up the bars in Saint Paul, and finally through Wisconsin. A lot of the states he’d experienced had the same general vibe–a lot of open lands, with sporadic big cities. Perhaps that was why he’d not felt homesick as of yet?    Hugo had just hopped into his car after stopping for a sandwich and a pack of cigs at a convenience store in Milwaukee when the radio had informed him of a live band night at a bar in Chicago called the Hopleaf Bar.    I like music, and I like beer, and I gotta get off this damned road before I blow my own head off He’d thought, and so the journey continued. As any true nomad knows, the journey is more bearable with a destination in mind. Or was that just his own opinion? He didn’t care enough to process any more of that thought train and set off for the hour and forty minutes he had until he’d arrive at the bar.

—

Dominic held his cigarette in his chest; he inhaled, a long drag to feign off the jonesin’ his fingers have been doing all day. They ached, swollen, almost red, raw and peeling, from when they kissed a man’s jaw earlier in the day. Man, the man, the hit, first of the week. Some transplant faux local, with a bite bigger than his bark, who bit off more than he could chew. The past week was a tired, piss poor game of cat-and-mouse, and Dominic felt like he was both the cat and the mouse, willingly; because of the boredom. Sure, the guy had kept him busy for the better part of his week, but he was as boring as he was a bad con-man. Dominic finished the job easy enough, nothing like an ambush in a dim parking garage, on the shadier part of Southside Chicago. Bloody knuckles and a silencer was all it took to do him in, and now here he is, Hopleaf Bar, celebrating his victory with bottles of Cruzcampo and the occasional Spanish rum. 

Hopleaf Bar is one of the many dive bars on the Southside strip of Chicago. It’s also the only one where the Org doesn’t frequent as much, so naturally, Dominic’s gravitated towards it since the blossoming of their little arrangement. It’s small, smokey, and reminds him of the fonder parts of his home in Santiago. Dominic’s been a regular for years now, on and off on the weekends, and even sometimes during the weekdays, if a business venture went a little south. He knows the owner as well as the next local drunk; a college drop out named Nicholas, who insists everyone call him Nicky, so they do. The booze is cheap, and the people mind their business, so Dominic just deals with it. The bartenders have been here for the better part of the last decade, and know Dominic, or rather, the facade of Dominic, he maintains for a sliver of normality. He knows about their personal lives, hears all about their shitty relationships, and their kids’ soccer games. It’s overwhelming to listen to more often than not, but it’s something he doesn’t have---will likely never have---so he listens. 

 Kat’s on shift now, and he knew she would be, of course he did---he knows everything about these people--- this bar, this city. Dominic nursed quite a few Gran Reserva’s, and she’s on about her no-good boyfriend who isn’t paying his side of bills for their shoebox of an apartment. Dominic’s cigarette dangled between his lips, hand in cheek, as she goes on and on about wanting to give him an ultimatum. 

“He doesn’t clean up behind himself, and I’m left elbow deep with the mess he created. I dunno, Dom---what do you think?” Kat sighed, elbows rested on the sticky bartop. Her blue eyes bore into his, and he can tell she’s just at her wit’s end with her situation. Lucky for Dom, he is, too, but from listening to it. Dominic wrinkled his nose, and rubbed just gently under his eye, like he can rub the exhaustion away with a flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow and try to focus on the dingy clock behind the bar. If his eyes aren’t deceiving him, it’s half past 7:30 or so now, which means the band is going to be starting up soon, and he’s 5 or so beers too deep to be a mere few feet away from the music. Dom exhaled, blowing out the smoke away from Kat, since she’s directly across from him. He ashes the cigarette in a cheap ceramic ashtray, his fingerless wool gloves are sticky with the droplets of beer that fell from his beard, and smell like thick, stale smoke. He cocked a brow, one that’s got a scar right through the end of it, and sighed.

“I think, he’s just sucking the life from you, cariño. And you deserve better, much, much better. If you ever wanna get rid of him, just let me know, and I’ll take care of it, muñequita, I will.   But, I’m way too fucking buzzed to sit here and listen to this band again.” 

Dom coughed, then nodded over to the band setting up on the little stage that isn’t really a stage. He hasn’t performed in awhile, months at least, and music of any kind has been pretty numbing to him lately. Dominic took her hand in his, and squeezed it, before he nodded and puts his thick brown wool coat back on, to head outside for a few smokes. He pushed open the door and the winter wind blows through his thick, dark brown curls. He almost winces, homesickness for Cuba always hits harder when the winters bleed him. Dom is usually talkative enough to people, the regulars. Today, he just offers some nods and quick greetings, as some of them clap him on the shoulder and break out into smiles when they see him work his way around them. The alcohol’s got his head buzzing slightly, so he fiddled for a pack of cheap cigarettes he won on a gamble, and has it between his teeth when his lighter won’t emit a flame. 

“Carajo, of course.” Dom mumbles under his breath, as he sat down at a picnic table towards the back of the patio. It’s not his usual spot, but it’s far enough away from the crowd that it’s almost peaceful. He sighs, and tosses the lighter over the patio, landing it in a trashcan that usually only sees vomit. He’s hunched over and takes the cigarette from his mouth, and cocks a brow when he’s realized there’s a man at the opposite side of the picnic table. Dom stops grumbling when he sees him, and it only takes him a few seconds to know he’s never been to this bar, and he definitely isn’t local. Dominic notices the cigarette he takes a deep drag from, and offers him a polite smile, or something reminiscent of one, and asks---

“Hey, uh, excuse me. Do you got a lighter I can borrow for a second, please? Mine’s just gone out.” 

“I’m tired. I thought I just needed a night’s sleep, but it’s more than that.”