𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦,

         as he expected, he finds sloane’s answer to be evasive. whether or not she’s being honest isn’t really his concern. he was only hoping perhaps a real conversation would have helped the shift fly by faster, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. he shakes his head at her answers. whatever her decision to stay in woodstock may be, the only concept he can’t understand is why she has a problem with him around. “it’s not an utterly outlandish concept. i swore i’d never be back and yet,” wes gestures around the store, his lips pressed into a thin line. he’s not all that surprised by his own candor. he just doesn’t have the energy to hold all of his cards to his chest, even with people he’s isn’t too fond of. “what i find outlandish is your obvious disapproval of my being here. do you not think this town could use a little governmental succor? it’s the only way anything is going to get done around here.”

       there are many people he’s taken point to annoy, but jamie seems to be the permanent number one on his list. he swears it hasn’t always been on purpose. they’ve just never gotten along. especially in high school when wesley was prone to throwing him under the bus at any given moment – even if the other hadn’t been doing anything. from what he little he’s chosen to remember of jamie, it’s always been a two way street. neither of them have ever been fond of each other and that was a light way of putting it. his hope of going the rest of their shift without speaking to each other disappears as soon as jamie drones on about his distaste for oasis playing over the loudspeakers. “sorry, i don’t take music advice from people who listen to system of a down,” wes answers, not bothering to look up from his busy task of sorting through records. “you swear what exactly? you still have the disreputable goal of ending up in jail?”

        wes mirrors nisa’s grin. with the majority of his new coworkers either disliking him or vice versa, there seems to be an easiness with nisa. she reminds him of the type of people he came across in chicago and the bantering is a nice change of pace, especially since she's prone to playing along. “i would never assume your preferred position.” he raises his arms in playful defense. when the bartender slides him his drink he’s quick to grab the glass and take a sip, then cranes his head to observe his partner for a moment. his partner is more of a placeholder than anything. given his obsession with absorbing any information he can find several of topics, regardless of his interest level, wesley is more than capable of handling trivia night on his own. but, having someone else at his table is good for moral support. wes diverts his gaze back to the other. "he’s just here to find a cute girl. if you think he cares about trivia, you would be making an erroneous assumption.” he raises his brows. “know of any?”

       “it’s the popped collar,” he plays along. “i’m trying something new.” wes opens his empty locker to place his wallet and keys inside, then turns back to marty. when they hold out their butterfly knife, wes leans in closer to examine it and gives them an affirming nod. “what are you going to do? cut someone into pieces?” he asks, letting out a laugh then just as quickly, contorts his face into one of false emotion. “they would be extremely disappointed,” he says with the shake of his head and an exaggerated, sullen sigh. “don’t inform them. i don’t think you want thirty more frat boys showing up to help rectify the fact i didn’t attend one party.” closing the door to his locker and leaning up against it, his arms cross over his chest. truth be told, a night on the river at a party branded as a ‘hoedown throwdown’ hadn’t seemed like a good time in his book anyway. “so what exactly happened? if you went off and bought a knife afterwards, i definitely missed out on something.”

         wes nods as if he’s listening. it’s more of a formality than anything. jennifer had lined out all the job entailed before his first shift and with her apathetic demeanor, sloane is the last person he needs around to remind him what he’s supposed to be doing. what he’s more concerned with is figuring out what she was doing bumming it in a small town. “what if my question’s for you, though?” he starts, situating his body to face her. without regard to how she might respond, he inquires, “are you planning on sticking around town much longer?” his tone comes off harsher than he intends. if she plans to stay in woodstock much longer, the last thing he needs is animosity between him and someone who could potentially have a say in whether his plans for a mayoral campaign end in success or disappointment. as a precaution, wes throws her deceptive clarification. “don’t get me wrong, i’m all for figuring life out by spending time in a place that’s not your hometown. i’m just curious. there’s not a lot to do here.” 

        he brushes it off with a shake of his head. “nevermind. you’re clearly too out of your damn mind.” eric’s behavior rarely phases him. as childish as it is, wes finds it kind of endearing. he’s used to it after four years of college where in lieu of going to class, his friends spent the majority of their days nursing hangovers. even then, he had a penchant for completing simple tasks for those who were otherwise preoccupied. it was only natural that his friendship with eric was no different. making the short distance from their kitchen to the couch, he swipes an unopened, lukewarm beer from the counter and plops down on the couch. “it blew. i didn’t even get to talk to jennifer about some ideas i had,” he mentions, helping himself to the plate of nachos his roommate has. cracking off the beer cap with his teeth and following up with a sip, he lets his head rest against the back of the couch. “how was your little soiree?”

he’s already sorted through their inventory and stocked new arrivals. with no customers to speak to, he has nothing left to do except lean against the counter out of boredom. checking the time repeatedly, a slow twenty minutes have passed since trip was supposed to join him. his eyes are scanning the store while he takes a mental note of anything out of place, when his coworker arrives late. letting out an exasperated sigh, wes shoots the other a smirk. “hello to you too, oliver,” he greets, ignoring trip’s comments on his change of careers. wes didn’t feel as though he needed to explain himself, especially to him. “i didn’t see your name spray painted over the parking spot. sorry about that.” with an apology is full of insincerity, he watches trip in amusement. “you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.” 

      opening shift is easily his favorite. there are few customers in the morning and the ones that do come in usually know what they’re looking for. that just means in between cleaning up the mess the closer had left, he has more time to write out ideas to present to jennifer without being interrupted. walking through the front door, he makes a beeline for the lockers. seeing marty there, he knows this shift isn’t going to be too bad. in fact, it might even be easier than the other shifts he’s worked. even though they’ve only seen each other once since he’s moved back to town, it’s always nice to see a friendly face. while it’s clear to him something has happened with the others, he doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter, nor does he know the extremity of the situation at hand. raising his brows at the sight of their locker and unable to help his curiosity, he pries, “hey, slacker. what’s with the knife?” he’s aware he’s sticking his nose somewhere it doesn’t belong, but that’s nothing new and he doesn’t see a problem with it. 

       one could say he’s overly competitive, but wes prefers to use the term driven instead. there isn’t much to do in woodstock that allows him to utilize the drive he carries, so he figures trivia night will have to do. being ranked second on the leaderboard doesn’t gratify him as much as it should — not when he knows he can do better or should be doing better, but he’s nothing if not determined to change that. he’s leaning over the bar waiting for the bartender to take his order when he catches sight of the person in first place. ever since moving home, he hasn’t taken the time to reacquaint himself with anyone he used to know, let alone the new faces in town. all he knows about her is they work together at high volume. he simultaneously respects and is surprised at the fact there's someone in town who gives him a run for his money. “don’t choke,” he quips, insincerity in his tone as he points towards the leaderboard. “would hate for you to lose your position.” 

       wes doesn’t really know sloane. they’re only familiar with each other because of trivia night and even then, he assumes she only knows him as the guy who yells at her partner from across the bar when things get heated. all in all, it may be from lack of initiative on his end. except he gets the feeling she doesn’t care for him all that much. it doesn’t bother him, not when the feeling is mutual. he can’t comprehend what sloane is doing in woodstock to begin with. with them working the same shift, his first shift, there’s an uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air. “so,” he clears his throat, attempting to make things less awkward. “you’re supposed to be training me?” he doesn’t do well with other people showing him the ropes, more inclined to figure things out on his own, but he’s willing to try if it means he gets to stick around the store longer to make a change around town.

        after working all night, the only thing wes wants to do is sleep. still used to his usual ten o’clock bedtime, it’s a miracle his eyes are still open now that it’s past midnight. before he’s even near the front door, he knows the muffled yet obnoxious sounds echoing through the hallway belong to his roommate. so much for sleep. upon opening the door, he shakes his head when he's met with a plethora of empty beer bottles. it’s only been a couple of months since moving in with eric, but he’s already become accustomed to picking up after the other, making sure their apartment was even the slightest bit presentable. it’s hard to mind the task much when the alternative is living with his brothers. at least here, wes feels useful, like he’s not completely out of place or taking up too much space. “there’s a trash can for a reason, eric,” he scolds while picking up the bottles himself and throwing them away. “and didn’t i tell you to put the milk away this morning?”