[color=cccccc][right][sub][color=cdaffd]Interactions:[/color] Shouting at Doris [@Sputnik] and Fletcher [@flightless-angel-castiel]
[color=cdaffd]Location:[/color] Apartment Balcony -> Hallway[/sub][/right]

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[sub][color=cccccc][i]" Still enough time to figure out / How to chase my blues away / I've done alright up to now / It's the light of day that shows me how / And when the night falls, loneliness calls "[/i][/color][/sub]

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Weekends weren't his. As a kid, the coming Friday whittled down any resolve Clarence had. Lockers occupied various invitations, letters and notes professing childish love, and the hallways bustled after the last bell with kids that had plans. Parties. Hangouts. Promised phone calls. Friends. Clarence had his book and a cat lazy and lacking a right eye to keep him company. Clarence dreaded the weekends; that remained unchanged. This time, however, he did have friends, or at least people who tolerated his presence for more than a few minutes. On the weekends, he still had them and they'd not hesitate to keep him company. That didn't fix the issue of a presence he craved most of all: his daughters.

Just a little over a year ago, both he and his ex had agreed to the terms. She couldn't handle a kid full time, even if she loved Arianna all the same - Clarence argued that she didn't love her enough. Of course, that didn't mean she didn't want to see her daughter, as long as it meant keeping Clarence out of sight. So, three days out of the seven, she had their daughter and the rest were all Clarence's. Unfortunately for him, his job demanded he work his five days throughout the weekdays. Monday through Friday, with almost a guarantee of overtime at least one of those days, if he was lucky.

Most of his weekend mornings consisted of sleeping, just for this fact. He had the day off, which meant he had absolutely nothing preoccupying his time. No distractions meant jittering anxiety and that almost certainly meant going down to the nearest gas station to order a pack of Marlboros or two and then wasting the day smoking them on his balcony. Not today, though. Clarence absolutely refused to succumb to his habit.

That meant waking up early, forcing himself to exercise and eat a sizable meal that wasn't take out. With that done and over with, Clarence let himself graze against his small balcony's railings to take in the bruising sky and the lazy morning commute. This summer had gone by so quickly and it had been a wonder they let a newcomer like him take even a day of vacation time off. Apparently, the chief had a weakness for little girls that could use cuteness as a weapon. Not many people expected his little girl to know the arts of manipulation so early. A resident cook out spelled the man's demise and he allowed Clarence a week off from work to spend time with his daughter. It wasn't hard to recall the lax week, or at least relaxing few days; their entrance into a needed vacation started them off with the bustle of amusement parks. That turned into a nice stay at a hotel with a large swimming pool and a large park where they'd spent most of their days. It ended on one last go around the amusement park and a quiet evening spent watching movies.

Even with a stable job that paid well enough to live comfortably, Clarence didn't exactly have the pocket change to go somewhere larger, grander, more expensive. That meant both Disneyland and Disney World had been out of the picture and a ton of other things. But Aria hadn't minded, after all, to a six year old, a carousel was a carousel was a carousel. As long as she could ride the unicorn, she was happy. And that's really all that mattered. God, was he glad she didn't take much to please. But, hell, if she asked for it, he'd find a way. Having a daughter as a crippling weakness meant a frequently empty wallet. A blessing in disguise that she didn't demand much.

Reentering his home, Clarence made his way toward his closet and shower. Taking a quick one, Clarence spent the rest the majority of his time grooming. It only ended quicker than he'd like at the simultaneous racket from down the hall. He cursed, bringing the razor down too hard against his jaw. A mild litany of curses followed while Clarence finished up. Paranoia urged him to dab the tiny wound in antiseptic before covering it up with a small Batman band aid strip (Arianna insisted and he indulged because, while she did watch the typical kid shows, she had a fascination with the superhero and often attributed everything Batman related to her father).

Within moments Clarence's steely gaze popped out of his front door, already preparing for the September chill with a fuzzy, maroon sweater and a tight pair of black pants. "[color=cdaffd]What's dying?[/color]" he mumbled and slid out barefoot and mildly confused. The first door he came to, and the closest, happened to be Doris' where most of the noise blasted from. "[color=cdaffd]Hey Dory,[/color]" he knocked and shuffled in place, "[color=cdaffd]mind turning that down a bit? I've got some hot coffee brewing and I'll, uh, look the other way if happened to want to steal a shot of my bourbon to add a bit of 'flavor'.[/color]" Honestly, alcohol didn't look too bad, but alas he mainly kept some in his house for company - he couldn't exactly drink any himself. People liked to call him a lightweight and he wouldn't deny it, 'cause it wasn't exactly untrue. He couldn't help that his liver refused to process the stuff.

After a moment of waiting, he spotted Fletcher's door just barely open and rolled his eyes to quietly peek in. Hopefully, the guy just got back from a jog or something and forgot to close it. God help him if he totally forwent closing it the night before. If he could throttle someone for making him worry unnecessarily, it'd likely be Fletcher... or Max... or Lewis. He shook his head and slid into the apartment's entrance to call down his hallway. "[color=cdaffd]It's Clarence! You're welcome to join us for coffee in my apartment, if you'd like.[/color]" God knew Clarence needed the company. He finished with, "[color=cdaffd]And next time, check your front door. For all the times I wish I [i]had[/i] to pick a lock, this is probably the only time.[/color]"

With that, Clarence waved to the few residents that passed by before slipping back into his own apartment. He left the door unlocked as he padded into his kitchen, quickly turning the TV on as he did. The mindless babble of a newscaster allowed Clarence to zone out while he made the few cups of coffee. He took a seat on the lone bar stool at the end of the island and left the other two open for anyone who wanted to join him. Clarence hummed, turning the TV off in favor of the radio, letting out a soft burst of Whitney Houston and immediately finding himself bopping along to her upbeat, belting tones. "[color=cdaffd]Wanna dance with somebody,[/color]" he crooned, quiet for only him to hear, "[color=cdaffd]I wanna feel the heat with somebody.[/color]"[/color]