Aristocles Eanna Ceallach (aristoclesc) wrote in mcdermott_game, @ 2009-07-20 21:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | aristocles, aristocles/knox, knox |
Who: Aristocles and Knox
What: An encounter years ago between the two and one from the day before.
When: Four and a half years ago, annnnd the day before around lunch time.
Where: Boston, Harper Cove.
Rating: PG-13 for cussing and mentioning drugs.
Status: Complete
He remembers somebody crouching low and rubbing his back. He thinks at first it’s that girl he came with, Becky. But Becky isn’t that nice. She calls him a fuckup to his face and laughs when he does stupid shit, like he’s her jester. Becky gives him the best deals, sometimes gives him good shit for free when he makes her laugh, when he brings her new clients, when he’s willing to spend the rest of his savings on tickets to fly to Boston.
He remembers somebody rubbing circles and holding back his hair, it was to his shoulders those days, and he wishes it were Becky because then this isn’t so embarrassing.
“There ya go, get it all out of yer system, mate,” but it’s a boy and now Knox is trying to hold in that sickness because he can’t stand that he’s having his hair held back by a stranger, a male stranger at that.
The stranger pops him on the back with the heel of his hand. “Don’t hold it in, it’ll jus’ feel worse in the long run,” and Knox empties his stomach.
Five minutes later, after washing his face and washing out his mouth with tap water in the bathroom, he takes a good long look at the man who was there for him. He’s a lean boy with a scruffy look and restless eyes. He keeps looking at the door, the mirror, Knox, and then at his shoes as if he’s anxious about something. He nods to the door.
“Your friend left. Don’t know where. Told me to tell ya she’d see ya when she got home. Need a ride there?” Knox wants to laugh, but all he can manage is a bitter grimace.
“Yeah if you wanna drive me all the way to L.A.”
The boy shakes his head and gives a low whistle.
“I got a ticket for home, can you get me to the airport?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he offers Knox a cigarette from an almost empty box of camels. They light up and step out of the bathroom. There is a line of three girls who slip in behind them and Knox recalls one of them giving Becky a couple of grams of coke the day before. He thinks he might’ve made out with the redhead after doing a line, but it’s all a blur.
They take a cab. The guy says he doesn’t need a car around this town, everything is in walking distance… but the airport. They take a cab and the guy starts asking him questions, even when he knows it’s not a good idea.
“L.A. huh? That’s a fuckin’ long ways… what ya doin’ here, mate?”
“It was my friend’s idea. She said she knew a guy.. Who.. We were going to..” he doesn’t know this guy so why is he spilling his guts? The guy doesn’t look stupid either, he just shakes his head, almost sadly.
“I’m Knox.”
“I’m Aristocles. Don’t ask.” They shake hands, have another smoke and the rest of the trip is quiet until they get to the airport.
“No baggage?”
“It was spur of the moment. She was ready, not me.”
“Ah.. Well.. Good luck.” With getting home? With explaining to people back home? With the rest of his miserable life? Knox doesn’t know so he just says, “thanks” and leaves.
His flight doesn’t leave for another five hours and so he spends a majority of the time locked up in a bathroom stall trying to fight the urge to ask bad questions of random strangers. He doesn’t need another gram. He doesn’t need to find Becky. He doesn’t need to call Sunny. He doesn’t need anything or anyone, he just needs to stop shaking, needs to stop sweating.
He needs to stop dealing and doing all this messed shit that makes him the ghost of the person he used to be.
“Whoa, watch it, sorry man,” years later Knox is stumbling in the Cove after catching his foot on some kids backpack. He takes a few wobbly steps forward and shoulders another guy hard.
Within seconds he’s being balanced by that same person’s hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, you okay there, mate?”
“Yeah, sorry I just.. Hey. Hey! Hey, I know you!”
“Uhhh…”
“You took me to the airport like… dude, your name is like.. Crazy and remember, I was that guy that was..”
“Throwin’ up in the bathroom at Patrick’s party, fuck yeah I remember ya! Isn’t this a right bit o’ coincidence? It’s Aristocles… Knox, right?”
“Shit man, I can’t believe you remember…”
“Well, I wasn’t half as fucked up that night. You uh, made it home though? Doin’ okay?”
“Yeah. I’m clean, too. Uh.. You want to go outside for a smoke?”
“Sure, ya owe me a couple as I recall.”
“Oh yeah… come on.”