[h3] [/h3][h3][hr][color=SteelBlue]Anthony “Tony” Carter[/color][/h3][hr][sub][i]Freddie’s Apartment  ||  9:00 AM   ||  [@Jasper19][/i][/sub][indent] [/indent]
A holler from a room over woke Tony from his sleep, and he sat up groggily, his mouth dry and his head aching. As he took in the apartment around him, his memory of crashing on the couch falling into place along with the other pieces of the previous night, he saw Freddie rush past him, calling for him to lock the door.

[color=SteelBlue]“You got it!”[/color] he called back, then winced, a hand going up to his head to stabilize himself. Then, raking it through his hair, he yawned loudly, padding his way over to the kitchen. His own place was a bit out of the way, being between the town and the closest park, so Freddie’s place was naturally the next best thing. That is, of course, discounting the presence of his parents’ place, which he disliked staying over at, even if he was heading there now. 

In the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water, wincing and blinking a few times before he downed it. Then, stashing it in the sink, he made his way to the bathroom to swish his mouth, splash his face, and brush his hair back with his fingers, before headin out, locking Freddie’s door behind him. After unlocking his bike, he rode the few blocks home, waving to his dad when he pulled up.

[color=SteelBlue]“Yo, pops!”[/color] he called. 

Benjamin Carter, or simply Ben, as he preferred, was the local plumber who’d taught Tony everything he knew about pipes and drains. Currently, he was exiting his truck, acknowledging Tony’s arrival by calling Tony’s name. With a flannel shirt tucked into a worn pair of jeans and a belt to hold it all in place over his still-growing beer belly, Ben looked as old as he was: well into his middle ages and faintly irked by whoever was unfortunate enough to call him early this morning.

Parking his bike in the garage, Tony walked over to Ben, taking what wrenches and tools he was handed. If he had his wrenches and screws straight, it seemed like someone’s backyard faucet had sprung a leak.

[color=SteelBlue]“You fix it up, Dad?”[/color] he asked, dropping the tools into a spare bucket and hefting that.  

Ben snorted. “Of course, who do you take me for? Now, I won’t say no to free money, but there’s something to be said about learning to change your own garden hose. Leaking for over a month—unbelievable.”

Shaking his head, Ben led the way into the garage, setting tools and buckets where they were supposed to go. “So, how’d the show go? Any attendance?”

[color=SteelBlue]“Three songs, small crowd. Wednesday nights are hardly busy.”[/color] 

Tony shrugged, handing Ben another wrench. [color=SteelBlue]“So, Danny’s coming home tonight, huh?”[/color]

Ben grunted but didn’t otherwise respond, instead continuing to busy himself with the few tools he’d yet to organize. 

[color=SteelBlue]“Been a while since Dan’s been home. Is Mom gonna cook her famous seafood chowder for dinner?”[/color]

Again Tony’s words were met with a grunt, prompting him to fall silent as Ben finished sorting the rest of the tools. While Tony knew better than to push the subject with his father, staying quiet never sat right with him. His brother, Daniel, was visiting home, and their father’s open lack of enthusiasm annoyed him. Would it hurt for Ben to just pretend to be happy for a night?

[color=SteelBlue]“Right, I’ll go check on Mom,”[/color] Tony said, setting the last tool onto the workbench and heading inside. When he opened the door, Tony was greeted by the warm aroma of melted butter and pancakes from his childhood, and his mother appeared around the corner with a plate almost immediately. 

“Oh, Tony! Welcome home!” Mary said, cheerily hugging Tony with one hand while managing to balance the plate in her other. “Sit, sit! And have some pancakes. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

[color=SteelBlue]“Nope, been waiting for your pancakes, Mom,”[/color] he said, sitting and picking up his fork and knife.[color=SteelBlue]“You eat yet?”[/color]

“I’ll eat in a bit. No, eat, eat, I’ll go get another plate, and—Ben! Ben! Breakfast!”
[hr][sub][i]Main Street  ||  11:00 AM[/i][/sub][indent] [/indent]
It was while biking back from the grocery store, a bag of last-minute essentials his mother had requested on hand, that Tony’s phone rang. Pulling over, he checked the screen—Jake—and picked up.

[color=SteelBlue]“Hey Jake, what’s up?”[/color]

“Tony, my man, I can’t find that bass guitar. You have it with you?”

Tony felt a spike of alarm as his mind rushed through last night’s events. [color=SteelBlue]“No, I don’t. I must have—damn it. I must have left it at Redcap.”[/color]

“The bar? Tony, bro, that guitar cost me good money. I can’t be losing that thing.”

[color=SteelBlue]“Yeah, yeah, I got it,”[/color] Tony said, glancing down at the bag he was carrying. It was light enough. [color=SteelBlue]“I’ll head to Redcap now. Call you when I find it.”[/color]

“Alright, man. I’ll be waiting,” Jake said, hanging up. 

Pocketing his phone, Tony swung his bike around, riding back down the street towards last night’s venue. Redcap usually opened in the evening to serve burgers and beer, but maybe he’d get lucky and catch some cook or bartend heading in to prep. His mom needed the ingredients, but they were mostly seasonings, and Jake’s guitar was expensive. Though he’d lent it to Tony for free, Tony didn’t like the thought of losing it since neither of them had a hundred bucks just sitting around. So, priorities in place, to Redcap it was.