Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Broken People ❯ Chapter 2- Seeds of Sorrow ( Chapter 2 )

So here's chapter 2 and it's even a day early (to make up from when I know I've going to be *coughseveraldayscough* late with others. Enjoy!

 

Mmmm…Duo….^_^

 

“Hey uh, Drew did you manage to find that carburetor?” Hilde poked her head around the door.

I bit my tongue in annoyance; I had my back to her so I wasn't able to see her, but she had two good eyes conveniently located on the front of her head and was perfectly capable of seeing me. Have I found a carburetor, yes, clearly I was still waist deep in a pile of rusted old car parts for the pure enjoyment of it. I decided that wasn't worthy of a reply and consoled myself by muttering at the junk angrily.

“Battery…Most likely dead…fuel pump…probably broken, something, something else...what the hell is this supposed to be?” I glared as I held up a blackened hunk of…something for her to see. Looked like a dog turd.

“Uh…spark plugs…I think.” She answered me with an unusually light tone as she turned her head sideways to get a better look; apparently whatever it was I'd been holding, it upside down. How she could tell that was beyond me. She glanced nervously back outside before hissing, “Focus Duo, the dude's kind of an ass. He's getting impatient.”

“These are spark plugs?” I squinted at them in exaggeration, pointedly ignoring her last comment. Impatient huh? Not my problem. “Fried.” I added for good measure, as I tossed them over my shoulder. “Geez Hilde, what kind of place is this. Everything's broken.”

“Which is why they call it a scrap yard.” She retorted snappily. I could tell without looking at her that she was standing with her arms tightly crossed, probably doing that funny thing with her lip too, and I took a quick peak under my arm to satisfy my curiosity.

Yep. Right on two.

Still, a point for her, I guess I deserved that.

“Who in their right mind would want a carburetor anyway?” I continued on, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of getting a burn in. I always enjoyed the banter we exchanged, especially because I was usually so much better at it then her. “Haven't they been outdated for, oh I don't know, the last thirty years?” I tossed a broken hubcap over my shoulder to the pile of `definitely deceased, do not resuscitate' parts. Unfortunately, I didn't expect it to whip out of my hand like a Frisbee; I glanced guiltily at Hilde as she just managed to duck in time as it wedged into the door frame where her head had been moments earlier.

Whoops.

“Here we go, one carburetor coming up.” It was an anticlimactic end as I pulled it out of the pile and handed it over to her meekly. She snatched it from my hands, giving me a totally uncalled for `glare of death' before she stalked out.

I stuck my tongue out at her, but it wasn't as satisfying when she wasn't there to see it.

I tried to wipe my arms off on an old rag I'd taken to carrying around in my back pocket, but all it did was smear the grease around more evenly and I gave up. I casually slid my sunglasses back up my nose and went out the opposite way of Hilde, jumping over other piles of parts just waiting for me to sort them out. Well, Hilde wanted me to sort them out. For some reason she thought it was messy. I felt like she was trying to imitate Sister Helen by telling me to clean my room; you know how that is? I mean, I know where everything it right now. The moment I move something to make it look tidier, I'm never going to remember where it is. Carburetor excluded of course.

It was hot out, but it was that fake, you've got the heat turned up to high hot, not that authentic burning your skin hot. Not matter how advanced the colonies claimed to be, there was no recreating the complex ecosystems and atmospheres of the Earth. I missed the feeling of the real sun on my face. Real weather in general. Everything on Earth was just so raw and unpredictable and extreme. I love unpredictable and extreme. Go figure. Guess that proves I got spoiled on my time on earth. I spent nearly my whole frickin' life on the colonies and it was never an issue then. What you don't know, you can't miss, I guess. Still, I did miss it now. Going back to work in Hilde's scrap yard was definitely not at the top of my `what-to-do-when-the-war-ended' list. Yes, I had a list, though Quatre helped me make it, and that was after a bottle of tequila had been ingested. Don't get me wrong, Hilde's great and all. For a while there, we even had a thing going; but to make a long story short (it involved my hair and her with a pair of scissors), we mutually agreed that we were better off friends. I had chased after her for god knows how long only to find out it wasn't her I really wanted.

And goddammit, it was him all along who I wanted. Heero, who I swear can be officially declared emotionally defective. His stupid yet oh-so-sexy nonchalant attitude, his indifference and how can I forget those damn blue eyes of his. And yet he's the main reason I thought I'd never see the end of the war, how ironic is that? I've stared down the wrong end of a gun barrel way too many times to keep track of, and usually it was Heero with his finger wrapped around the fucking trigger. Yeah, the exact person you want; he doesn't care if he kills himself, let alone other people and especially me. Guess I'm the proof that opposites attract. Or I'm attracted to opposites; I suppose that's the more accurate way of phrasing it. There's never been a moment where he's shown any signs of reciprocating my advances—

I had to pause there, chewing on my tongue thoughtfully. I mean, did I even make any advances… huh, now that's a really interesting thought. Tequila can be powerful stuff, especially when it's been fermenting in a safe house since the dawn of time. You ever heard that song `Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off'? Yeah, change the `her' to `his' and sadly that's me…

I did try the whole moving in with Quatre thing. That lasted about a grand total of a week; I guess what Wu Fei's been bitching about all along is right- it's not wise to leave me cooped alone in the house all day. But I was just trying to cheer Quatre up, I mean, war's over you're supposed to be happy, not work all the time right?

I was just doing my part. I mean everyone expects me to be smiling like, twenty-four seven, and I found the squirrel and Quatre wasn't there… it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Was it really my fault if he didn't find the squirrel as funny as me? Okay, sure, so I didn't know squirrels' built nests, and I honestly thought the computer would be the last place it would go. I told him that's why there are backup systems…

…I've never had that vein pop out at me before; it's usually reserved for Trowa.

After the initial shock of seeing Cat pissed off, I can't really remember what he said as I was too interested in watching that vein pulsating in his temple; there was something said about `fatal losses'…the word `detrimental' was used more then a few times. Really, he should know by now from watching arguments between me and `Fei that I usually zone out after the first ten minutes or so of yelling. Either way, once he had cooled down over a glass of wine he was fine, but I'd already decided I'd better disappear for awhile before I caused him to have a stroke.

“Shit!” I stuck my angrily throbbing thumb in my mouth as I glared daggers at the hammer all the while wondering if the grease my hands were coated with was poisonous. I was in the process of rebuilding this old motorcycle. Instead of letting it die with dignity it had been ripped apart, and at the moment I was currently trying to rewire everything. There is, I might add, a perfectly good reason as to why I was using a hammer to accomplish that.

That was my entertainment. Life in the colonies was just so boring. It was fine when I was younger; ya know, trying to survive does tend to eat up your free time; but now with Cat giving us money, there was nothing to do! I get up, go to work, go to the bar, lather, rinse, repeat. At first it was pretty sweet, I mean, going to the bar was fun the first thirty or so days in a row. But…is this all there is?

I always felt guilty thinking that. I mean, I'm basically saying I'm bored because there's no war to fight. No people to kill. But at least in the war I was surrounded by people. I like to be surrounded by people. And now…everyone was gone. We'd all gone our own separate ways and that was something I'd never really thought I'd have to prepare myself for. And what the five of us had going was pretty unique. We were the only ones who got each other, who knew what the other was feeling. Sure there were a handful of others who kinda understood, like Noin, Sally…hell, I'll even include Relena. I guess I thought we'd all stick together. But even the God of Death isn't needed anymore…

Mental slap. Geez Duo, where did that come from? I thought.

I wasn't fooling myself. I knew exactly where it had come from. We had such a good thing going for those years, and now it was over. And…it was hard adjusting. I'll leave it at that for now.

I worked on my bike for the rest of the day. I'd been working on it pretty much from day one of arriving up here, but it had been pretty slow going because I kept having to wait for the archaic parts to show up here.

Yah, and I'm the guy that complains about someone looking for a carburetor.

Hilde appeared behind me suddenly. The only reason I could tell was because of the shadow passed over me, not because she made any noise. She's the only person besides Trowa who's ever managed to sneak up on me. I looked up at her face to get an idea of what she thought as she eyed up the work I done that day. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't improvising; I've worked on all kinds of machines, both before and during the war. But something fiddly as this was definitely her specialty, not mine. I preferred the mechanics of the Gundams; the way Deathscythe seemed to speak to me and guide my hands while working.

“Well?” I asked raising an eyebrow at her.

“Looks good.” She said with a smile.

“But…” I caught the corner of her mouth twitching, ever so slightly. I knew that look. She was trying not to laugh at something I'd done.

“I'd rewire that if I were you, or you way find yourself with flames coming out the exhaust.” She pointed out.

Oh. Whoops. Was she planning on telling me if I hadn't asked? Knowing her probably not, unless it was a death hazard. She would have had a good laugh over that one. Actually, that might be pretty interesting to see.

“So Duo, are we going to the bar tonight?” She always asked that as if it was a novel idea. Making plans to go to the bar was a daily routine for us, just like actually going to the bar was. Okay, sure, we weren't technically old enough to get in, but only in those snobby upper class bars would this be a problem; not that I'd ever have any urge what so ever to go to one of those places. Most bars took on the policy that money was money, and as long as we weren't stupid enough to rat them out to cops (As.If.) and we appeared to be eighteen, anyone was welcome.

“Sounds like a plan Hilde.” I replied, saying my line of the ritual. “Maybe tonight you'll be able to keep up.”

Hilde whacked me over the head. Okay, maybe I deserved that.

“Duo, I can always out drink you and somehow I'm still the one walking you home at the end of the night!”

Okay, I hadn't deserved that one as well. That had happened one time…okay maybe a few times. But it had been embarrassing enough then, she didn't have to keep bringing up.

Thankfully she spared me from anymore comments and lugged her backpack over her shoulder. “I'll see ya in a couple hours then.”

"Oh, and Hilde?" I hollered at her retreating back. She turned to look at me. "It's Drew now." She winked at me and gave the thumbs up before turning around once more.

I always take the bus to my apartment. It was an extremely long time, for me of all people, to be kept cooped up in a small box and required to sit still, but I couldn't really afford to be any closer to work. I'd always joke about it to people that asked. You've gotta admit, it is pretty shitty if you can't afford to live closer to a scrap yard.

What passed as an apartment for me really was a crummy little place; consisting of a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. It was the most I could afford while still affording to eat; well, that and my priorities don't include having a nice place to live. I'd rather spend money on going out to clubs and stuff, not stuck in yet another cramped box; albeit nicely furnished. Yeah I know Quatre said I could use money from this account he set up, and I had; but I still felt kinda guilty about it. I mean, I was basically taking handouts from him, and I'm used to being able to take care of myself.

A kitchen cabinet door fell off when I shut--well, slammed—the apartment door. That was a fairly common thing; I was always fixing those damn doors. I use the term `fix' very loosely as I usually happen to be drunk when the damn things fall off and when I `fix' them. Probably why they don't remain `fixed'.

I pulled my grimy clothes off and started to unbraid my hair while I waited for the shower water to turn hot. Heero and I were always a good match when staying in safe houses; I loved scalding hot water and by that I mean so hot that feels like your skin is melting off. I have washed in enough sub-zero ponds, lakes and public washrooms to last a life time thankyouverymuch, and I am going to enjoy my hot showers now. Heero on the other hand liked searing hot or icy cold, nothing in between. He'd let me use up all the hot water when we stayed together and took one of his ridiculously frigid ones. He always made me think of those old Kung Fu movies when he did; ya know when they're standing under a waterfall practicing the whole mind over matter thing. But if he ever felt like a hot shower, and sometimes that's the only thing that you feel like doing at the end of some days, he'd just climb in with me.

I can see eyebrows going up over that; but there honestly wasn't anymore to it then that.

Sadly.

And (not that I was peaking or anything) but he really does have a nice ass.

Contrarily to what people think about me, I don't take very long in the shower. Yes I have very long hair, but I'm also used to it. Wu Fei, now there's someone who needs to learn a thing or two about water conservation.

I spent several extra minutes trying to scrub the oil off my skin; I finally managed but I think I took the top layer of skin off with it. Another extra minute was spent making sure all the soap was rinsed out of my hair and then I turned the shower off. I wrapped the towel around my hair before stepping out the shower; my hair is like a sponge and I've found myself on my ass a few times because I've created a lake in the middle of the bathroom floor.

I didn't bother eating; I found I spent less money at the bar on an empty stomach and there was plenty of time to eat when I got home. When I told this revelation to Hilde, she'd simply replied with a sarcastic `well duh!'. Did I deserve that? No.

Even though I'd been hurrying I was running late. I could usually end up arriving fashionably late; Hilde was just late. Her apartment was closer to the scrap yard, as so to keep things fair we always went to the bar near mine. At this time of night it meant she had to take several buses to get to the bar; and I've never been on a bus once that was ever running on time. It was still nearly an hour later before I waltzed into the bar. It was this pretty seedy little place called `Joe's'. The walls were painted this dark purple color, but it looked polka dotted because of where the paint had peeled. The booths were a mishmash of lime green, red and orange and it still managed to have carpet on the floor; but the owners were cool, and I'd met most of my new gang by coming here. I said hello to a few familiar faces that were between me and the bar, and I ordered a drink before I went to the usual booth in the corner.

Hilde flopped down mere minutes after me; and like me she already had a drink in her hands.

“Hey Hilde,” I nodded as I pulled my cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one up, groping to the far side of the table where the ashtray was.

“Hey, how's it going?” She replied, sounding slightly out of breath as she sat down.

“Great! Where are the others?” I asked, taking a drag. Normally there's quite a crowd of us here, any where from six to fifteen. It was strange that none of them had shown up yet.

“Oh they're coming.” She reassured me, taking a sip of her drink. She liked those White Cow things, you know, the ones with the vodka, milk, whip cream and a cherry? I could never understand how anyone discovered milk and booze could be mixed together and I wasn't about to try it. I preferred my liquor plain and simple; rye and coke.

“Pete phoned me just a couple minutes ago. He couldn't find gas for his car; apparently the fucking colony's rationing it again so they had to all grab a bus. They should be here any time.”

“Excellent.” I replied, reclining back in my chair for a moment before deciding otherwise. The last time I did that the back gave way and I found myself lying with one wasted drink on my shirt and close to the entire bar laughing at me.

Hilde spotted someone she knew and left me on my own. The bar was filling up quickly now as all the regulars arrived; finished work for the day. I spotted some of my regular crew walking in and nodded to Pete in acknowledgment as they tried to push their way through the crowd. The weekends were the busiest by far; sometimes it'd be so packed there was no choice put to barge straight into the crowd stepping on toes and spilling drinks. If the occasional wallet happened to find its way into my pocket then it was even better; I liked to keep my skills in top form and it definitely helped with the rent. If I felt too guilty (or it was an exceptionally hot girl) I'd be the good guy and give it back.

And if I happened to get a phone number…well, I'm certainly not complaining.

I got up and made my way to the bar to get a round of drinks for the gang and a refill for me. It was incredibly busy, so I lit up another smoke while I waited. I happened to look up in time to catch the `omigod look at that guy' look from the guy who I'd sat down beside. It was looks like that that made me wonder what the fuck I was doing here night after night. There was just something about me that made other people wary. I suppose I should find that a little funny; I give that look to Trowa all the time, but it just hurt.

It was no secret around here that I'd been a pilot in the war, but no one but Hilde knew I was actually a Gundam pilot. With all the mixed reactions towards us even still, that was just asking for trouble. But being a mobile suit pilot didn't set me apart for the others; half the people in this colony had been actively involved in the war some way or another. But no matter how hard I tried to blend in (and yes I'm well aware that sounds funny coming from me) I always had these obnoxious, prying looks thrown my way. Maybe it was the clothes I sometimes wore; the irony of a preacher's collar in a bar. It could have been the hair, I guess…or maybe it was something more; that haunted look of someone who'd had to grow up a lot in a small time frame; that I'd been through a lot and survived. All the Gundam pilots had this look. Even Quatre, the person who probably had one of the easiest childhoods among us.

It was really irritating, I can't change how I look and I just wanted some fucking normalcy for a change.

Something caught my eye, and I casually turned my head to see what it was. It took me a moment to realize what; that's when I noticed a kindred spirit; a shadow like myself amid all the vibrant and deliciously revealing clothes. This young chick dressed in all black sauntered through the crowd and sat down on the stool beside me, drumming her long fingers to some silent tune as she waited impatiently to be served.

I eyed her up curiously. She did look familiar; though I must have really been wasted to forget a girl like her. She had this bright red hair that was cropped really short and spiky, and these erotic tattoos of pin up girls that wound around her arms; they did nothing to hide the track marks she had, but she didn't seem to care about this.

“What the fuck're yeh lookin' at.” It was definitely not a question, more like a one time warning as she caught my eyes on her. Still, I wasn't about to be intimidated by her; come on! You hang out with Heero Yuy; now, he knows intimidation.

“What?” I shrugged, playing dumb as I gave her my cheekiest grin. “I was just looking. Is there a law against that now, too?”

“Keep yer bloody mouth shut while yer're doin' it then.” She retorted with that strong accent of hers.

Whoops. Was it open? Crap.

Suddenly her hostile expression faded, replaced by one of recognition. I knew she was familiar to me.

“Duo?”

“The one and only,” I drawled, still playing it casual as I downed a shot that had just been slammed down in front of me with a grimace. “Who're you?”

“Spike.” She answered slowly. “Yeh know, Lily Spike? I'm a friend of Ferhat's...I met yeh a couple months ago. I should be insulted that yeh don't remember me.”

“Oh yeah!” I exclaimed. I was unable to say or do any more because she'd just smiled at me and every thought vanished out of my head as everything rushed...elsewhere. “Didn't you both used to be mobile suit pilots with Hilde?”

“Key word: Used to.” She replied sharply, her eyes narrowing at me. Guess I picked a touchy subject. “War's over, I hope I never have teh do that shit again.”

“Uh, yeah. Right.” I muttered, trying not to sigh. Definitely a touchy subject. Geez, it was just a simple question. Why does everybody have to be so testy? Still, I tried a new tactic to get her talking. “Hey, did you want to, uh, come sit down with the rest of us?”

She brightened immediately, and I gave my mental self a high-five. Unfortunately it wasn't the answer I was hoping for.

“I'm in the middle of a game of pool.” She winced, giving me the impression she wasn't doing so well. “Yeh should come play a game against me later.”

Okay Duo, play it cool. Don't sound too eager… I pretended to mull it over, staring into my drinks that had materialized in front of me at some point during the conversation. “Sure maybe I'll see you around later. I've gotta go deliver these drinks or I'll have my fuckin' head ripped off.”

I snuck a glance to see her reaction.

“Good teh see yeh again Drew,” She winked, brushing her hand lightly against my arms as she got up to leave. All the hairs stood up on my arm as if I'd stuck my finger into an electrical socket; my heart rate tripled as it thumped into my ribs.

I couldn't get off my chair.

That entire exchange left me baffled. I really don't get the way my brain works (and hell, neither does anyone else); I mean, yeah it could be all too entirely the alcohol; but that's not a total excuse. She was definitely attractive, but…wasn't it….ya know, him I wanted? I mean, I don't know anything about Spike, besides the warnings Pete had given me. Apparently she was 'bad news'; high up in one of the colonies larger gangs yaddy yaddy yadda. Big shocker there. It meant her work wasn't legal in the slightest sense, not that that bothered me. And yes, she obviously did drugs…who hasn't? I have. I mean, it's not that I liked Spike, it's that I wanted her to like me. But why?

I shook my head, wrenching my eyes away from where they'd been burning a hole in the bar counter. No, I was going to have fun tonight, even if it killed me. I'd worry about the serious shit in the morning. Morning angst always complimented a hangover quite well, and trust me, I'm the frickin' maharishi at morning angst.

I eyed the last two shots as they were set down in front of me. They stared back at me innocently, and I accepted the challenge, mercilessly tossing them back one after the other. The tequila went down very smoothly for a change, my brain noted with interest. Obviously I'd had more then I'd thought. I stared at the empty shot glasses thoughtfully, before hopping down of the stool and perching the large tray of drinks on one hand precariously above my head.

Hilde made a grab for her second drink even before I set the tray down on the table. Pete whisked his and Cody's off the tray; Cody was agitatedly fiddling under the table; he looked like he was preoccupied with rolling them each a joint before the bouncers caught sight of him. The other drinks remained fair game on the tray. I spotted Cara, Logan and Ami already out on the dance floor; which I found extremely amusing because I knew Logan was trying to pick Ami up and he didn't even speak a word of French. A.J and Carlos would probably be over on the far side of the room playing video games and Ferhat; who everyone says is fucked up, but who I find really interesting, was also not to be seen. I knew if I took a gander (hah!) to the bathroom I'd find him shooting up with one drug or another.

“What took you so long Drew?” Hilde raised an eyebrow at me, after she'd taken a long swig of her drink. It was obvious she'd seen me with Spike, but I figured it really wasn't any of her business. Hilde's cool, but she's really tight laced and all when it comes to people doing drugs and being in gangs. I can't look down; I mean hell, I spent a good part of my life in a gang and I still do drugs occasionally; I turned out okay--

--As can be expected after you've survived a plague, fought in seven and a half tons of pure gundamium alloy, in a world war, twice, and all at the ripe old age of fifteen.

Okay, sums it up.

“Maybe next time you could buy your own frigging drink then.” I stuck my tongue out at her, but refused to answer her question. She snorted, hiding a smile behind her hand before grabbing my drink out of my hand. I made pathetic attempt to rescue it out of her hands before I realized my body wasn't working as well as it had been earlier. That could only mean one thing.

“You're cut off.” She gave me a smirk that can only be described as pure evil before downing my precious rye and coke in several quick gulps and slamming the glass down on the table dramatically. “You're drunk.” She informed me.

Crap. Or yay, depending on how I looked at it. Still didn't mean I was going to let her do that to me.

An hour later we were both still sitting there. I use `sitting' loosely, as I was slumped over the table literally hanging on to the metal leg, while Hilde was swaying back and forth and twice had fallen out of her chair. No, the chair wasn't moving and no, I didn't push her. Just sitting and BOOM, she's down for the count. I couldn't help giggling and I was trying to keep track on my fingers of how many drinks we'd each had, but my fingers wouldn't stay still. I was in the process of staring at my fingers trying to figure out if it was my eyes or my fingers that weren't working properly when I realized Hilde had disappeared. That really didn't shock me as A.J had been buying her doubles for the last half hour; I'm sure Hilde was happy because she'd been trying to attract his attention for like the last month or so.

I'd cut myself off long ago, just allowing myself to sip on my last drink. I may love being drunk, but I sure hate being sick. I avoid it if possible; brings back too many memories of being sick in the war. Man, the worst time was vomiting with my ribs all smashed up to hell. It was agonizing to even draw a breath then, and there I am kneeling on a pillow in the goddamn bathtub because it hurt too much to hurl over the toilet. Anyway, there came the point where I think I started to panic from the lack of oxygen and passed out, `cause the next thing I remember is waking up in my bed. I sure felt that one for a while and Heero relishes greatly in reminding me of it whenever he can.

I was trying to figure out what to do now that Hilde had left and I had the dim recollection floating around the depths of my drunken mind of promising Spike a game of pool, so I braced myself on the table, heaved out of the chair, and staggered over to where the pool tables were.

Spike was still there, though the pool game was obviously forgotten. She was lounging on top of the table; openly flirting with one of the bouncers. It was her skirt that got my attention or rather, lack of one. I mean, the strip of cloth was barely long enough to be called a mini skirt, and even though she had her legs crossed it did nothing to deter my rather overactive imagination. She spotted me almost immediately and jumped down off the pool table, tossing a pool cue in my direction which I promptly dropped.

“My break.” She said simply as she set the balls up. “I need all the fucking help I can get right now.”

As she stepped up to the table into the dim light, I could see what she was talking about. She was loaded, that much was easy to tell. In the dim lighting her pupils should have been huge, but they had nearly disappeared into the murky depths of her irises and she looked like she was having a hell of a time focusing her eyes on anything, just like I was. Spike was on smack; but that still didn't turn me off her; christ, half the people that were in here right now were on one drug or another. I've never done more then pot and coke myself, but I'm getting pretty good at guessing other people's drug of preference. Ferhat for example, usually preferred coke, though I have seen him on LSD; he was hilarious then. Still, Spike being high still did nothing to resolve the fact that I was extremely…inebriated.

Hah, take that one Quatre!

I watched the balls multiple before my eyes with amusement before I realized Spike was waiting for me to move so she could break. Letting her break wasn't going to change the way the game turned out-- I don't have the patience for figuring out angles and spin of the ball and all that other crap. I was right (naturally), as fifteen minutes later she had only one of her balls on the table while I still hadn't sunk any.

She rubbed it in a little; but let me keep the majority of my dignity still intact.

I left the bar with her that night. Course, I wouldn't realize it yet, but that was probably the biggest mistake of my life.

And I thought things were going to be boring.

Fuck.

 

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