Who: Brad and Zeke When: Afternoon, Thursday, September 28 Where: Marked for Life Status: Complete
After three days of fog and then the overcast day that was Wednesday it was good to see the sun shining again on Thursday morning, it seemed like a rare occurrence so Brad had taken the opportunity to go for a jog soon after waking up. He enjoyed the sunshine and quite pleasant morning as he jogged from Seaview Village to Pomeroy Park, did a lap around the park’s tracks before heading for home, normally that would be enough but instead he decided to drive into town and follow the jog with a solid workout at the gym. Yes he was vain and worried about his body despite the fact he had probably gained less than a pound but still looked exactly the same as he did the week before.
The post workout shower and change of clothes made Brad feel refreshed, plus he didn’t look like he had just done ninety minutes in the gym, how anyone could go out into the world in sweaty clothes and stinking of perspiration was beyond him, he’d rather save those things for the bedroom. He had noticed a few stores were still shut as he walked down the street, he was hoping that nothing bad had happened to the owners during the string of violent offences that occurred on Tuesday. One store he had walked past a few times he actually stopped at, remembering how Fin Haynes had told him that Ezekiel Miller was back in town and had opened up a tattoo shop (though he still couldn’t believe that Jimmy O’Shea was the town’s new Catholic priest), he wasn’t looking at getting a tattoo but hey, he might as well go in and say hello. Opening the door he walked into the shop and had a quick look around, eyes drawn to some of the flash art on the walls Brad went over to investigate.
Something about the fog had made Zeke unsettled. He couldn’t have put a finger on what it was, exactly, but the remnants of it still lingered with him today. Maybe he’d forgotten what this town was like in the time he’d been away. A couple of months back had refreshed his memory, and honestly he was already dreading the next full moon. It had been slow today, and he’d sent his apprentice home. The other artist would be in for the afternoon shift, but Zeke wasn’t expecting it to be even remotely busy until then, so he was good. Sometimes he preferred to be in the shop alone, especially when he was feeling moody.
A faint beep signaled him that someone had entered, and he left the back room where he’d been reorganizing the supply cabinet to head up front. The guy who’d come in looked vaguely familiar, but Zeke couldn’t place him. Had to be someone he’d gone to school with, but damned if he could put a name to him. “Hey,” he said with a smile that was friendly and yet a ghost of his usual dimpled grin. “Help you with somethin’?”
Brad was still looking at the art on the wall when he heard footsteps and then a greeting, turning away from the piece he was looking at (did people seriously still get roses tattooed on their ass?) his neutral expression turned into a wide grin. It really did seem that there was something in the water that had turned all of them from gangly teens into handsome men and Zeke was definitely one of those, then again he was only 17 when he had left for college and 14 years had passed since he had seen anyone, so it was no wonder everyone had grown up so much. “Oh, just admiring the art. These your designs?” Brad asked pointing to the selection, something about the images screamed Zeke to him, not that he had seen a lot of the other man’s art during their school years other than during art classes in the early years.
He knew that he had changed a lot over those years and that most people had trouble putting a name to his face, some even accusing him of lying, saying he couldn’t be ‘young Bradley’. It was something he was getting used to. Stepping back from the wall he walked a bit closer towards Zeke. “And my… haven’t you grown up into a handsome devil?” He added with a hint of a flirt, which to Brad was as normal as saying hello.
“Most of ‘em,” Zeke said when asked about the designs hanging up. “There’s another artist here too, and some are his.” Their styles were different enough that he thought it added value to the shop and their services; who would want to get a tat at a place where all the art looked the same?
The compliment caused Zeke to raise an eyebrow slightly as he tried again to figure out who the guy was. He seemed to know Zeke, but Zeke had no idea who he might be. Someone from school, but beyond that? Yeah. “Thanks,” he said, his tone wry. “I’m hopin’ you won’t be too offended when I tell you I’m not sure who you are.” He tugged idly at the hem of his black tank top and shifted his weight, curious now.
Having seen the inside of many a Vegas tattoo and piercing studio, it was always nice to see designs by the resident artists instead of what could only be described as ‘mass produced art’, it wasn't surprising that most of them were Zeke's and it also didn't surprise him that this was the path the other man had chosen in life.
Brad actually laughed when Zeke mentioned he wasn't sure who he actually was. His ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head a bit. “Not offended at all. Remember that chubby geek who seemed to ace almost every test and practically lived with his nose in a book? Well…” It was a cryptic answer but as they had spent years in a few of the same classes it wouldn't be too hard to place him, he avoided the term ‘kid genius’ - he hated it.
Zeke’s smile emerged again, this one more natural-looking. “Brad Fitzgerald, as I live and breathe,” he said, his tone mildly teasing. Their class had been small enough that everyone had known who everybody else was, if nothing else. Brad looked as though he’d given up cookie dough and found the gym and then some. “Good to see ya, man. You just pokin’ around, or are you thinking about a tat?” It never hurt to ask.
Brad had definitely given up the cookie dough, he couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to indulge in a cookie or two and as for finding a gym he tried his best to work out daily as well as fit in at least half an hour to an hour of yoga, anything to keep himself in top shape, “Not quite what you were expecting is it? According to Mr. Roberts I should’ve been an overweight, balding professor at some snobby college or stuck behind a computer writing complex equations in some basement. Guess I’m glad I never did listen to him.” He said with a smile, remembering what their old maths teacher had said to him in the final year of school and thinking about the look of disappointment on the old man’s face to find out what Brad was really doing now.
“Just poking for now, haven’t found anything that I’d want to have on me forever as yet.” He said truthfully, the idea of getting one had crossed his mind a few times but as he told Zeke, nothing that he’d want on him forever. While he did have a piercing - piercings could be taken out and no one would know that they had ever been there, though he had no plans on taking it out anytime in the future, he liked it and reminded him of the wild night that was his thirtieth birthday. “But when I do you get first dibs. And no roses on ass cheeks or tramp stamps, I promise.” Brad added with a wink. “I heard you were still around and had to come investigate, I don’t know how many times I’ve walked past here in the last few weeks but had no idea it was your studio until the weekend. Would’ve dropped by earlier but the weather had other ideas.” Stupid fog.
“Mr. Roberts was a dick,” was Zeke’s comment. “Anyone can change, if they want to enough.” Or if a change was forced upon them, he thought. No point in dwelling on that unfortunate circumstance, though. He’d have enough time to worry about it once the full got closer. Despite what had happened, Zeke thought he was much like he’d always been.
“It’s a big decision if you’re serious about it,” he said, nodding when Brad told him he hadn’t settled on anything he’d want forever. “Best to be sure. It’s a pain in the ass to have tats taken off or covered up.” It was rare that Zeke changed his mind about anything he’d had tattooed on his body, but on the couple of times he had, he’d simply modified them into something else. A creative challenge, for sure. He had to smirk at the thought of a rose on someone’s ass cheek; hopefully nobody had taste that terrible anymore.
“Weather’s a little crazy,” he agreed. “We didn’t do a hell of a lot Monday or Tuesday, either.”
“At least he wasn't a creep. I ran into a few of those in college, professors old enough to be someone's grandpa leering at the freshmen students.” Brad shuddered a bit, he was lucky that he only had one creepy professor though he discovered there was a few at the college which was scary. “Oh don't I know it! I didn't wake up one morning looking like this, it's taken lots of hard work and a lot of sacrifices to transform myself but it's worth it. Even if some people think that good looks and brains can't go together and treat me like I'm an idiot.” While it was fun teasing those who doubted his intelligence, to not have to hide it also felt good.
“I've seen big, butch guys cry having some drunken tattoo lasered off, when I had to hold the hand of a six foot five ex marine who was crying like a baby I decided that I'd never make that mistake. It's got to have meaning and not just some passing fad.” He had seen enough of those too, in somewhere like Vegas people did stupid things every single day, that's how money was made.
“I don't think anyone did much, other than having to pick someone up from the hospital on Monday I pretty much stayed at home, watched TV and read some books. “ Zeke didn't really need to know what else Brad had done during those foggy days, though it was more than just watching TV or reading. “It'd be nice if the sun stuck around but this is Point Pleasant, I'm not holding out much hope. How are your moms? I think I saw one of them last week but I wasn't sure, so much has changed over the years.” He thought it was cool when he was younger that Zeke had two moms, it was pretty common now but they really were pioneers, especially in this town. He wished he had that kind of support growing up instead of parents who just kept on pushing him to do more, to get the best grades.
Brad was more talkative than Zeke remembered. Of course, some of that might have been that he’d probably only spoken to the guy a couple of times throughout their high school careers. Good for him, though. It looked like he was making the most of life.
When asked about his moms, he said, “They’re good far as I know.” It was an easy subject now, but it hadn’t been his favorite back in the day. He’d been convinced that anyone who mentioned the fact that he had two moms rather than a mom and dad was making fun of him, and many of them had been. It didn’t matter anymore; Zeke was plenty secure in himself. It was strange how the older one got, the easier it became to throw off the chains of the past. It was one thing he didn’t mind about being out of his twenties.
“So what’re you up to these days?” he asked, out of idle curiosity.
They didn’t really have the same circles back in high school, Brad spent most of his time with his head in a book while Zeke had sports and music. So many people thought that he was shy back then but really he was just focused on studying and didn’t have much of a life other than that, though that was one thing that had changed in the last eight years, he had really come out of his shell and looking back realized just how much of his life he had wasted doing what his parents wanted him to do.
Zeke didn’t tease Brad because he was a year younger than everyone else (puberty really did suck when you were so behind your peers), so Brad had no reason to say anything about Zeke’s moms. Not that Brad teased anyone, he had learned to develop a thick skin when it came to teasing and insults thrown at him, something that he still had now and was grateful that he developed.
“Just moved back from five and a half years in Vegas… well it’s been a few weeks ago but damn, you forget how slow things can be in small towns.” Brad shifted his stance a bit, tucking his thumbs through his belt loops as he spoke. “Work wise, I’m a stripper.” He wasn’t ashamed of his job, why would he be? He had worked hard on his body and didn’t mind showing it off.
Zeke had occasionally been an asshole while he was in school, but most of his ire had been reserved for Luke Bradford, his main enemy. The two had always clashed and probably still would if they spent any time together. He’d never picked on anyone who seemed to be at a real disadvantage the way Brad had, being younger than the rest of them and not as fit. Now he was completely making up for it, looked like, Zeke thought. Nobody could deny that the man’s body was a work of art.
He gazed at Brad for a few moments when he answered Zeke’s question as to what he’d been doing, wondering if Brad was pulling his leg. He couldn’t imagine why Brad would lie, though. “I bet that’s an interesting job,” he said. “Not here in town, I’m guessing?” So far as he knew, there were no strip clubs in Point Pleasant itself, although he knew of at least one in the general area.
Brad still wasn't sure to this day how he managed to pass gym back at school, if anyone had told him that in fifteen years time he'd be jogging for miles, be at a gym daily or be able to hang upside down from a pole he would've laughed and told them to get real. How times had changed.
He was used to that look, the ‘are you bullshitting me?’ look as he liked to call it, because he didn't fit the normal ‘mold’ for a stripper. “It can be interesting, not as much fun when the patrons are drunk and ignore the ‘Don't Touch’ rule, but it's a job.” Brad said with a shrug, not like he actually needed the money with his large share portfolio nearing a million and a half after one company went through the roof. “No, the club’s in the next town, about fifteen minutes away. It's called Peaches if you're ever bored and want to see some hot guys or girls perform.” He added with a smirk and a wink, not that he expected Zeke to actually visit the club but he threw the offer out anyway. “Friday night’s the ‘All Male Revue’ but rest of the time it's pretty mixed, all depends on which way you swing.’
“Why are they always named after fruit?” Zeke asked rhetorically. He chuckled and shook his head at what Brad said next. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said of the lineup. “Ya never know, I might show up some night.” He swung both ways, so odds were good that he’d be pleased with the entertainment whatever it might be. Someone else pushed through the front door of the shop, and Zeke gave them an upnod, tacitly letting him know he’d be with him in a minute.
Brad shrugged at the question, honestly who knew why strip clubs seemed to be named after fruit, that or occasionally women's names. When he heard the chime of the door he glanced over his shoulder before looking back at Zeke. “If you do show up, tell them Jean Pierre sent you, I'll make sure you get VIP treatment.” He gave Zeke one last wink. “I'll let you get back to work. See you around.” With a smile he turned around and walked away, leaving the tattooist to his next customer.