Who: Adrian and open When: Monday morning Where: Out and about What: Irritation Status: Incomplete
Screw this.
Adrian kicked at a piece of fallen wood and launched it forward several feet. Screw this and screw it's mother. Another tree limb met it's fate with the side of his foot as he tromped past another bungalow away from the 'center' of the little village. If that even existed. Where Adrian was going, he didn't exactly have the foggiest. Toward any other people was probably not the best idea but clearly Adrian was not always known for having the best ideas.
His eyes were narrowed as he stomped down harshly on a piece of some bungalow. This place was shit. At first he'd been entertained by it all. Enjoyed the vacation minus the quidditch of course. Who didn't mind the beach? Well those people bitching clearly did but he didn't give two shites about them. But now... after that ridiculous storm and the fact that he had finally reached the state of boredom to test out that key. It had taken some time to figure out which piece of baggage it opened but when it did... he really wished he didn't have to do shit for himself to believe it. There was a sudden wave of emotion, swallowed him whole. Adrian had slammed the lid shut after only a second or two but that didn't seem to stop it. All he knew was there was a sudden fear, a fear of failure that had sunk into his bones and wouldn't disappear no matter how hard he tried to push it away. Like he always had. Even stuffing pillows over his head and wishing that that storm would blow him away hadn't helped.
Then there was the lovely morning after. Adrian woke up to a memory... one that certainly hadn't even happened as far as his recollection could tell. He tried to pin it on a dream at first but no. No, that didn't explain the exacting detail that the memory possessed and it was fucking miserable. He was old. Well if thirty something was old and it was. And he was- He wasn't a fucking cheat. But that's not what the Rules and Gaming commission was accusing him of and if Adrian didn't know better he'd say there was a look of guilt written all over his damn face.
Fuck that. He'd ignored it most of Sunday but by Monday... he was five minutes from punching several holes in walls and/or people. He'd started out walking. Walking and kicking. Maybe he'd just go for a swim. Working out always helped clear his mind and the only thing Adrian wanted at the moment was a mind clear of the reminder that he was really nothing more than a failure in the end.