Ch. 2 - Late Nights

The house was fairly cold since Rae was trying to save electricity money, so she was mostly fully clothed — a loose-knit sweater, leggings, fuzzy socks, the whole shebang.

She was pressed against an arm of the sofa watching TV with a bag of popcorn in her arms and a blanket wrapped around her legs. Tre texted her earlier when she was leaving work saying he wasn't going to be back until late, so that left her to the comfortable laziness that was being home alone. She would've been doing homework for school, but she had stressed herself out about the fact that Tre was probably out doing something stupid or getting a girlfriend so much that her mind couldn't focus on anything productive anymore. All she wanted was food in her mouth and something to stare at.

The First 48 was playing and an unproductive 24 hours had already passed in the show when there was a knock on the front door. If it was Tre, he was heavily intoxicated and she didn't really want to go open it.

He had his own key, but he was a mostly sleepy drunk and often resorted to knocking on the door so Rae could usher him safely into bed like a mom. Other times, he'd "forget" rule 3 of about 5 unwritten rules: No sex in this holy dwelling. He'd bring a girl over and Rae would have to suffer through sex noises in her bedroom or sleep on the couch until morning until whoever left. It didn't happen too often, but there were enough occasions that she approached the door less than enthusiastically.

She steeled herself with the knowledge that he probably would've tried to sneak the girl in, but that was if he still had half a brain by the end of the night.

She peered through the little peephole in the door and sure enough, there was Tre — alone, much to Rae's relief. She opened it, eyeing him warily still because he was obviously very intoxicated. He swayed back and forth like a plume of smoke and just as easily lost his composure altogether. Before he could even say anything he started to fall forward and Rae panicked inwardly, steadying herself as if she could take his crashing weight, but before he tilted too far he caught himself in the door frame, hand smacking against the hall wall.

He stayed like that for about a minute, head drooped and body bent halfway through the door when he finally looked up, eyes squinting and widening.

"Rae?"

Her brows knit as she reached for Tre who immediately collapsed onto her. The other day, she had been able to easily drag him to his room because he was supporting some of himself, but today? He was almost dozing off on her shoulder.

What the hell kind of day did you have?

She worked her way slowly to the room, towing him along with. It was a full body workout she hadn't prepared for. Once they made it to his room she laid him on his side and covered him up before running to the kitchen for a cup of water and a few Aspirin she had bought the other night.

There was knocking at the door — likely in response to Tre slamming his hand on the wall and being visibly inebriated in public —, but Rae wasn't very keen on getting ranted at and dealing with Tre's lifeless body, so she simply yelled a quick apology in its direction before hurrying to Tre with the goods.

He was knocked out when she went back in, so much so that she didn't bother entering quietly or inching the door closed when she left. She wasn't leaving before she admired his features for a few seconds though, marking the steady slowness of his breathing and the length of his lashes and the spatters of darkened skin that slipped from his brow to the bridge of his nose and the messy way his fuzzy hair almost hid his eyes.

This was her payout.

When she'd made it back to the living room, the show playing on the TV entering its wind-down period, she fell face first into the couch and released a muffled groan.

Why could she be his nanny but not his girlfriend?

—

The sunlight was hanging over her face and her knee was cold when she woke up. She quickly tucked it back under the blanket lying atop most of her torso before she realized that she fell asleep on top of her blanket and jolted upwards.

Her knee was cold, yeah, but she was mostly warm underneath the blanket.

"Morning, sunshine."

Tre was in the kitchen, cooking in plain view with the sweet smell of eggs wafting throughout the apartment.

She tried to remember a complex formula to make sure she was actually in this reality and continued to wordlessly gaze over to Tre. Eventually he turned around, a cheerful, half-playful confusion on his face, prompting a response he never got again.

"Ah, morning? Sorry, I'm just waking up — I'm a little rough right now."

Tre snickered and turned back to the stove, leaving only the poofy bun at the back of his head visible.

In this small, comfortable lapse in time Rae gathered the covers to her chest and buried her face in their warmth — muffling a bubbly giggle. He had cared enough to cover her up, so maybe she wasn't just a nanny after all.

"I'm just making eggs and toast," He didn't turn as he spoke, just began chopping at the eggs in the pan, "I know you don't like sausage so I didn't bother with that."

And he was cooking for her, too? She found another ridiculous formula to decipher to stop herself from jumping over all the furniture and tackling him.

"Oh, cool. Thanks. What're you cooking breakfast for?"

He shut off the stove and moved the eggs to a plate he had set aside, a small hint of embarrassment showing in the way the corner of his lip quirked up.

"I was drunk as hell yesterday, don't even remember what happened, but I ended up home in bed with some water and pills on my nightstand," He picked up a plate of eggs and toast and started approaching Rae as she tried to keep her face in order, "Like always. So it's a thank you."

The plate found its way to her quickly, and soon Tre was back to the kitchen getting himself a plate for the rest. There was a solid pressure in her chest that ached gently as Rae looked from Tre to the food on her lap.

She needed to get over him, fast. Before she actually started to really like this guy. And she'd lived with him long enough to know that couldn't end well.

"You're a much better roommate than me, I don't know how you can even put up with me."

He laughed at himself, coming to sit down on the couch next to Rae. She made space and Tre took the liberty of finding a nice spot under Rae's blanket to eat too. He was really trying her today and she didn't know why, but if his mission was to fluster Rae it was nearing success.

"I keep you around for the rent money."

A half truth with a dash of playful chiding. Tre smirked at this and responded, dropping a piece of toast that was hanging out his mouth and placing a hand on his hip.

"Are you sure you don't keep me around for my body?"

They were both laughing and continuously joking, both almost choking and patting each other's back like it would save their lives. But eventually Tre faltered, his smile fell and his eyes fazed out. He started to tilt when Rae grasped his shoulder and steadied him.

"You good? Is the hangover still hitting pretty hard?"

"Mm, yeah — I think so."

Hope was spreading in her lungs and got her thinking that maybe Tre actually cared in some romantic kind of way, but seeing him so out of it — a hand to his mouth and furrowed brows — didn't make her want to distract herself in useless thought.

If he was still suffering from the effects of alcohol, then that's probably what all this was, too.

"I read somewhere taking the Aspirin before going to sleep is more effective, maybe you should start doing that."

Tre stood, scraps still on his plate but he didn't look like he was too keen on finishing it off. He sent a quick smile as he looked down at me.

"Maybe I should. If I could trust anyone about that type of thing it'd be you, huh?"

He breathed out and put his plate in the sink before saying he was going to take a nap and heading off to his room.

Rae pouted quietly while stabbing into a piece of egg and placing it in her mouth. But it was food and it was good and it was a breakfast that Tre made her, so she couldn't keep her cheeks puffed or her lips puckered for too long. She also had work today, so staying home and contemplating her relationship with the boy wasn't a viable option.

Night shifts weren't always bad at the bar, usually they were pretty tame — a few men coming to watch a game with their buds, some scruffy tortured souls, regulars: enough people to fill the bar out nicely. But it was Saturday and regular businesses are more busy then, but places that sell alcohol? Ten times worse.

It was just getting dark outside on her walk to The Pound, a cold breeze and the fluttering sound of people dispersing and heading home taking over before she met the entrance of the bar. Yellow light blew out and into the outside world from the glass window at the top of the door, and opening it up proved to let the light escape further and the noise swell from whispers to full fledged chortles.

The first thing Rae saw was Linnea's head snap towards the door she'd just entered. She was standing behind the bar, black shirt and huge hair pulled back into a manageable dark puff. She looked like she wanted to throw herself over the counter and hug the girl with the amount of pure concern mixed with relief scattered across her face, and once Rae got behind the counter she actually did hug her.

Rae reciprocated the hug, used to the woman's frequent upsets and need for that physical touch to steady her.

"Rae, I'm so glad your here! TJ's been at home texting me, he's just getting worse."

They pulled away from each other and Rae's eyebrows furrowed. TJ was a sweet kid; she'd sometimes babysit him for Linnea when things got too busy for the single mom and he'd be silently watching TV, playing on his tablet, or doing homework beside Rae — if he wasn't sick, which he often was.

"I hope he gets better soon, you could've told me — I would've come earlier and taken some time off your shift."

Linnea swatted her hand as she hurried down the line, a door on the far end of the bar leading to the back rooms.

"You know I couldn't do that." She disappeared behind the doors to gather her things and Rae was left to stand at the front with Michael — the other bartender on shift tonight — before she came back, purse on her shoulder and phone on in her hand. She hugged Rae again while she left and Rae told her to drive safe before the chime of the bell signaled her exit and Rae was really alone at the bar.

Not completely alone, Michael was there, but he seemed to not want much to do with Rae ever since she started working at The Pound. There was also a tall man near the entrance that acted as security if someone got too intoxicated or belligerent — Charles. He wandered around the space and mostly just mingled with everyone — despite his sharp eyes and permanent scowl, he was a pretty friendly guy. He would sometimes come and talk to Rae, but not enough for her to not feel alone with the patrons.

As soon as Linnea left, two men came up to the bar asking for beer. It was time to start working.

One of the men, probably in his early thirties with a clean 5 o' clock shadow and nice tawny eyes started chatting with her about work casually and they had a good laugh before he retreated back to his table of friends with his beer. The other man, a dark green hood over his head partially blocking out the light didn't speak until she'd placed his beer in front of him and told him to enjoy.

"Hey, I have some advice for you."

Rae, who had turned back to the drinks on the wall behind her, craned her head around and breathed out a "Huh?" that became a "Ah!" as soon as she took the time to look him over.

It was the injured man from before.

His face seemed better, less bruised and tired than it was the day she saw him on the street, but that could've just been the shadows masking his skin's discoloration.

There was a pulsing feeling of panic for a second as she wondered how he found her at her workplace. Was he actually a stalker or was this some weird coincidence?

"You — what are you doing here? Are you... alright now?"

"First of all, get that look off your face, I'm not following you around."

Rae's eyes narrowed at the man. He wasn't particularly nice when she'd helped him that day but he his speech wasn't as harsh as it was now. She picked up on something in his tone that made chills run down her spine though, and it wasn't his rudeness.

"Excuse you? I can look however I want. And I don't see how you would be here at my workplace unless you were following me, do I need to get security?"

The volume of the conversation wasn't very high, but the way Rae was lingering drew the eye of the other bartender already, being somewhat annoyed at her for not handling any of the incoming swarm of customers.

The man put his hand forward on the counter and sighed, shifting slightly before hurriedly speaking.

"No, God, I'm here to warn you — that's all. I can't be here long, just keep inside at night for a while."

Rae's expression fell. Her heart froze in her chest and she stared at the man for some seconds. Stay in at night? She looked around the gathering crowd of people to see if anyone had heard the man, but it was just him and her.

The man moved to push a few choppy strands of brown hair from over his face and straighten his hood before standing up. He took out a ten and dropped it beside his nearly full glass.

"Wait, I don't finish my shift until 12 tonight."

"Go home with a friend. I can't stay here any longer. Bye."

He left, and Michael immediately pushed some patrons over to her. It felt as if she were robotically moving to fulfill requests and converse with everyone as her mind was stuck elsewhere. Anxiety was bogging down her senses. Why the hell did she have to stay inside at night?

What the hell was she supposed to do tonight with absolutely no one to go home with?