[right][color=lightgray][sub]TIMESTAMP: A couple hours after [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5395834]Yours[/url] Late Monday Night[/sub][/color][/right] [center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/221025/0252981471f6f6467f3f0c2c27409686.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/Khhp8jE.png[/img] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/brutalbx][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/211015/b5878257bfbd9cdd76a67a003c983966.png[/img][/url] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/211015/52f6860b6ef04523593be20b787cf5af.png[/img] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/lovelycomplex][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/211015/450efa6a0ce5a6f0235bac836bcc1708.png[/img][/url] ____________________________________________________________________ [/center] [color=lightgray][indent][indent]It was somewhat surprising how many people were in the mood for coffee and pastry when there was a hurricane going on. Beau had lived in Edenridge for a long time with Colleen now and he had experienced this type of storm a handful of times. She had a habit of saying that this was a cleansing that happened once a year, to help purge evil and wash away tainted soil from a cursed ground. He was happy she never dragged him to church on Sundays. The things he’d seen and done, he’d burn up before he even got through the door. She had been born and raised in Edenridge before she had found her way to New Orleans and into the arms of a near destitute Homicide Detective so she knew her stuff. Colleen called him from New York about an hour ago to let him know she was safe and that their daughter Genevieve would call him after her show. One day he would get there but for now, he was needed elsewhere. It was late now and the custom had more or less died off. Antoine couldn’t help but look outside and be reminded of Katrina and the destruction it raught in its wake. He was lucky that most of his life survived the hurricane but he knew a lot who were not as lucky and who had lost everything. Looking out across his shop at the few customers he had, Beau took a sip from his own drink. Ricky Osso was sitting in the corner booth with his dog snoring loudly enough to hear from across the room. Though that didn’t bother the [url=https://preview.redd.it/snx9h7ej9ib61.jpg?auto=webp&s=6e1e9e12a66a58f7e6cf272132d238db404e729a]girl with the headphones[/url] sitting on the other side of the room as she slowly sipped her fifth black coffee whilst scribbling away in some book. Strange kid. Pushing his reading glasses back up his nose, Beau returned his attention to his own book. As he began to scan the words again, the bell above the door rang out. God, who would be out and about in this monstrosity? Lifting his gaze upwards, he smiled his big toothy grin at a former student. [color=E4DF9B]“Mister Sinclair, so good to see you but boy what are you doing dragging your ass through that storm? My coffee ain’t that good.”[/color] [color=19C8AC]“Good question,”[/color] Niles replied, taking off his black helmet. After dinner at the Phillips-Shomer house he had visited the hospital to deliver food to Avigail and her coworkers, like his dad. With it being July, it was almost Tisha B'Av which meant Rye’s family were fasting mostly and remembering the multiple tragedies in Jewish history. There wasn’t a specific dish that needed to be made so JP’s mom, Robyn, who was taught an assortment of dishes of her wife’s culture, decided on something simple. Today’s dinner choice was matzoball soup with a side of latkes, and for dessert, she made Rugelach. Niles had spent hours talking to his Auntie not by blood but by bond, Wednesday Davies-Drake, that he lost track of time. He had told his dad he was going straight home but that was a lie. He didn’t know why but he wanted to see Mr. Beau so here he was, in the heart of the storm, visiting a cafe that was the heart of Edenridge. With leftover Rugelach that he originally was going to give to his sisters, Niles strided to the counter, placed his helmet on top of it, and opened his backpack. Taking a tupperware out with Jewish delight inside, Niles placed it on the table and slid the dessert to his former English teacher, [color=19C8AC]“I guess a little rain didn’t hurt anyone,”[/color] he smirked, that mischievous smirk that Beau knew all too well. Glancing around to see who else was in the room, his gaze went from the youngest Osso that hung out with Natalia’s niece all the time to… staring for a little too long, Niles found himself caught in a spider web with a black widow. Turning his head back to Beau, and immediately doing a double take, he tried to put a name to her face. She looked familiar… She definitely went to Edenridge High when he was attending but he couldn't figure out her name for the life of him. She was hot. Stop. Niles turned back to Beau once more, internally scolding himself. He had a girlfriend. Sure, at this point, he was searching for reasons to still like Caitlin who was way too complacent and obedient for his liking but that doesn’t change that he chose to be with her. He had to do better and that meant no wandering eyes. See, Niles loved being the dominant one, but Cece was turning out to be a doormat and that was not enjoyable at all. [color=19C8AC]“For you,”[/color] Niles glanced down at the Rugelach then back at Beau. [color=E4DF9B]“Well thank you son,”[/color] Beau took the box away from the boy and placed it under the counter. [color=E4DF9B]“I know what I’m having when I get home tonight…if I get home tonight.”[/color] The weather warning had all but washed out most roads and Antoine knew better than to venture out in horrifying conditions. He had seen too much in his time in the force and one was people chancing rain thinking they’re good enough to beat mother nature's grace. [color=E4DF9B]“You really shouldn’t be out in this.”[/color] Niles was always a bright student, if anything he and Decker had a lot of similar thoughts, Beau could see that in their writings but somewhere along the tree, their branches split. [color=E4DF9B]“Especially on that death trap,”[/color] the older man motioned to the motorbike now parked outside his cafe. [color=E4DF9B]“So what can I do you for? Coffee? Tumeric latte? Pepsi?”[/color] [color=19C8AC]“An iced apple crisp oatmilk macchiato,”[/color] Niles auto-responded, like this was the only drink he ever got when he did visit the cafe. Taking a seat, he drummed on the counter with his two pointer fingers, trying to figure out the [i]why[/i] he wanted to be with Mr. Beau during a monsoon level storm. Was it something his father said that got him thinking? Was it the way Wednesday looked at his father with clear frustrations (even if she tried well to hide it)? For most of the night Hector Sinclair was locked up in his office. He didn’t even see Niles until his son was about to leave. When they did talk and his father told him to go straight home, he caught the scent of a perfume that didn’t belong to anyone Niles was familiar with. A scent of a woman that wasn’t his mom’s. Niles sat there thinking, thinking why now out of all other times. Was he visiting Beau because he thought his dad was fucking someone in his office and now he was revisiting the past? Was he visiting Beau because time and time again in highschool Beau was the only person to give him a peace of mind when Niles had no one else to go to? Was he visiting Beau because he saw a mirror of the man he could become in his father and he didn’t want to become that man? Was he visiting Beau because he knew he wasn’t doing okay, not really, he was just good at playing pretend? He didn’t know why but he knew he needed this. He was here seeking something and part of him hoped that this something was exactly what the doctor prescribed. A reset so he could focus on being a better man. A man his mother would be proud of. [color=19C8AC]“I got a lot on my mind.”[/color] Beau got to work on his young charges order and his mind drifted across the years to all the faces of students gone by that he had helped. Some he had helped more than others, less fortunate, the downtrodden. Niles was a completely different beast. He came from money, his family held power yet he was just as broken and as deeply flawed as any Southsider. He was the perfect example of how blurred the lines of Edenridge really could be. [color=E4DF9B]“On the house,”[/color] Placing the glass in front of the forlorn boy's face, Beau placed his elbows on the counter and balled his hands into fists before he rested his head on the newly formed pedestal. [color=E4DF9B]“Well everybody's got a secret, son. Something that they just can't face. Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it. They carry it with them every step that they take.”[/color] He recited as the lightning flashed around them. Taking the drink his mother used to order religiously, Niles grimaced at how sweet it was. He hated sweet things but he needed comfort. Intently, he listened to his teacher. Always the sage Mr. Beau was. [color=19C8AC]“Yeah, I know,”[/color] the doctor’s son sharply responded. There was no ill intent behind Niles’ curt voice. That was simply how he talked most of the time. [color=19C8AC]“This town is littered with secrets. It’s what keeps this place interesting, I guess.”[/color] Momentarily, he stared into his drink, brooding on the letters being distributed lately. Today there was a new set of letters but he didn’t care enough to read them. He heard what they were about but he just wasn’t interested in knowing more. He never knew David O'Hara like that nor was it his place to know the details of how his life tragically ended. It wasn’t any of his business. Neither was Allison’s OD. While tragic, it still wasn’t any of his business. Ghosts deserved to be laid to rest. This town sucked at leaving the dead: dead. Clearly not ready to talk about what weighed heavy on his heart, he brought his attention to the book, [color=19C8AC]“What’s today’s read?”[/color] Before Beau could respond, the duo were interrupted by the sudden arrival at the counter top of the gothic beauty that had caught Niles’ eye when he entered the building. She placed her black painted fingers on the Doctor’s son's shoulder as she slid the proprietor of the place a ten dollar bill. [color=A1667B]“You realize that the old man just quoted Bruce Springsteen to you right? Darkness on the Edge of Town? Absolute fucking moron,”[/color] She spoke bluntly and with an edge before turning her dark eyes to face Beau. [color=A1667B]“Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you around the same time tomorrow.”[/color] Her voice had shifted into something resembling sweetness but the underlying menace was still dripping with every word. The widow patted Niles on top of the head like a good boy and hurried out of the shop with a whirl of swift blackness. [color=2da2a1]“I don’t know whether to be turned on or terrified!”[/color] Little Ricky called from the corner booth. Beau rolled his eyes. Fucking kids today. [color=E4DF9B]“I’m reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe….come to think of it I’m pretty sure you still owe me a book report on this?”[/color] The older man cocked his eyebrow. Jesus. Who died and made her Queen Bitch? Niles rolled his eyes as she left the building, immediately finding her unattractive. After Niles graduated, he had his mind set on becoming a doctor, but even then it wasn’t like he was a walking encyclopedia of quotes. Not like Charlie was. Niles could pick up on chords and beats from musicians like Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, and Metallica but ask him to remember lyrics especially from a musician like Springsteen, who he only listened to when Beau was playing it in the background, then no. It wasn’t going to happen. With selective memory, Niles chose to remember his environment and moments with the people in his life. Not quotes from a song he hadn’t listened to in years. Plus, he had to leave room in his brain for medical practices and shit. Fuck, he was annoyed now. [color=19C8AC]“Yeah, not gonna’ happen,”[/color] Niles grumbled as he put his drink to his lips, trying to let the apple crisp drink soothe his soul. [color=19C8AC]“We both know I barely did any of my homework junior year. The fact that I was even able to make it to class was a fucking miracle.”[/color] Beau took off his reading glasses and placed them down on the open book. It seemed that being playful was not the way to go to break through to Mister Sinclair on this particular midsummer's eve. [color=E4DF9B]“You’re right, we both know that. I covered your pasty ass for a year with the other teachers to make sure you actually progressed rather than get held back.”[/color] Pushing himself up from the counter to stand a bit more vertical, the former English teacher reached for his own piping hot coffee. [color=E4DF9B]“Any time any of the other teachers got on your case, I would be right there. No Niles is just going through some shit right now but he’ll be ok. He’s got too big a mind, too strong a will to let whatever this is beat him. He doesn’t always do the right thing but I know he wants to.”[/color] Lifting the coffee to his lips, Beau did not take his eyes off of Niles as he drank the piping hot liquid tar. With a gasp from the refreshing roast, Antoine leaned back against the cabinet. [color=E4DF9B]“You gonna tell me what this is all about? Or do I have to start quoting Fall Out Guy next?”[/color] [color=19C8AC]“Fall Out Boy,”[/color] Niles corrected before subconsciously tapping his finger on his glass mug. The doctor’s son was quiet for a moment digesting Beau’s words and how there were countless times his English professor got him out of bullshit and lessened the blow that his father would inevitably give to him. He didn’t understand why someone like Mr. Beau even existed. Men like him were too good for this world. Edenridge didn’t deserve people like Mr. Beau. [color=19C8AC]“Why?”[/color] Niles peered up from looking at his coffee, his green eyes locked on the older man’s dark brown and stern gaze. [color=19C8AC]“What do you even see in me? And I don’t mean this mask I wear because I have something to prove to my dad. No, I mean the kid you watched grow up who was nothing but an asshole to everyone.” [/color] Niles should be grateful for the life he was born into, but there was nothing fulfilling from having money. There was nothing fulfilling from having your life planned out by someone else. There was nothing fulfilling from having a home when it felt barren, lacking the most important thing to keep it full and whole. A mother’s love. To this day, he was still gripping on reasons to live and he hated that pessimistic side in him. He thought he had buried it when Charlie held a gun to him but he was realizing you can kill a man, but you can’t kill an idea. Charlie Decker as fucked up as he was, Niles could relate. The pain of this town failing you, regardless of what side of the tracks you were born on, Niles could relate. Charlie did the one thing that made sense to him at the time and paid it forward. All the hurt this town caused him, all he did was give them what they deserved. Death was a kindness and some people, like himself, were better off dead. Niles, as much as he shouldn’t justify Charlie’s actions, understood him better than he’d ever like to admit. They just got addicted to different poisons. One chose drugs, the other chose self harm. Both in the end accepted the pain they believed they deserved - they just went about it differently. Charlie allowed his demon to pilot, Niles hid his demon behind a lab coat, a focused pursuit, and a charming smile. [color=E4DF9B]“Mister Sinclair,”[/color] Beau sighed as he put his Best Teacher Mug back onto the bar top. [color=E4DF9B]“I see in you what I see in all my students: potential. Now you may be an asshole and no doubt you have done some pretty unsavory things that I darent venture a guess what they are but let me tell you something.”[/color] Reaching out, the old man put his hand on Niles’ shoulder, firm and father-like. [color=E4DF9B]“I have seen evil. I have seen mothers murder sons. I have seen rape victims, burn victims, little girls locked in cages yet I have not given up hope. I myself am no saint. Every time I turn around, that darkness on the edge of town that the Boss himself sang about, it creeps closer and closer and the only thing that can stop something like that? Potential. Which is why I mold minds. It is why I give you the tools not to do good in this world but to do well. Do well, Mister Sinclair.”[/color] Mr. Beau had rested his hand on Niles left shoulder, same as the gothic bitch did. A place that wasn’t too far off from his scar. The area that reminded him why he was still alive, why he had to keep preserving even if most days he wanted to rage quit, and why most things in life were out of his control. What he did have control over was his [i]potential[/i] as Beau put it. That would be what got him through the nights where all he could do was loath everyone and everything, especially himself. [color=19C8AC]“What does that even mean? To do well?”[/color] There was a brief moment where something eased into Niles’ mind. He snapped his finger deliberately, as he thought out loud, [color=19C8AC]“What was it from Death in the Afternoon by Ernest Hemingway?”[/color] He focused on his teacher who looked at him with intrigue, concern, but most importantly, care. Niles recited the quote, [color=19C8AC]“So far, about morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and… what is immoral is what you feel bad after.”[/color] He paused for a moment, having not thought about his highschool readings in a long while, but for some reason that quote, out of all quotes, decided to chime in his mind like an alarm. [color=19C8AC]“Is that all I got to determine how to be the best me? What makes me feel good? That doesn’t give me much to go off of because some people feel great beating women, choking a person to death, slandering a boy’s name, who was once loved by this goddamn town. Do well, you say. Who’s there to judge?”[/color] [color=E4DF9B]“Thine own judge be thyself,”[/color] Beau took a step back and crossed his large arms. The melancholy and sadness he had seen before in Niles. It hung around the boy like one of the dark clouds outside. [color=E4DF9B]“There is no such thing as a wholly good person, Niles. You are gifted in many ways, wealth, intelligence, wit and skill. All of these tools can be used to do what is perceived as good. Yet we as a society no longer live in black or white, heroes and villains, good versus evil. Is it not out of the realm of possibility that a so-called good person can commit an evil act if it is done with good intention? Is it so not the case in the reverse? When I say do well, I say it not knowing what kind of man you are going to grow into being. Though what I do know is that whatever path you choose, you will do well. Every darkness has a name. It’s up to you, whether it’s yours. A man must have a code.”[/color] With furrowed eyebrows, Niles rubbed his temples, nodding in understanding but realizing this somehow turned into an English lesson. He was appreciative for the advice, as he usually was when Beau brought hard truths to the table. At the same time, it was too late for this shit. Glancing at his wrist watch, Niles took note of the time, before looking back at his teacher, [color=19C8AC]“This is worse than pre-med courses,”[/color] Niles jokingly chuckled. [color=19C8AC]“I came here to think, and boy did you give me enough food for thought to last me a week.” [/color] Finishing his coffee, Niles stood up, threw his backpack over his shoulder, and grabbed his helmet, [color=19C8AC]“I should get going. Yeah I know, I shouldn’t go out, but sleeping in my bed is a far better option than sleeping in one of these booths. No offense.”[/color] Running his hand through his hair, Niles observed the older man and gave a genuine smile, far softer than Niles’ usual demeanor, [color=19C8AC]“Thanks. Sorry this started off weird. I’m not the best at expressing my issues. I will say: I needed to hear that.”[/color] It was good to know that Niles still had time to redeem himself, using all the things he gained throughout the years to do well. He needed a code. All men had a code. What was his? Off the top of his head he could think of three. One, Niles needed to stop making excuses and work hard to defend the ideas and people he loved. Two, he needed to take responsibility for his actions and be honest to people with who he was. Full transparency regardless if in the end it burned him, at least he wasn’t pretending to be someone he didn’t want to be. And three, he needed to believe in himself more and admit when he was wrong, when he wasn’t perfect, when he didn’t know how to deal because he was stuck. Stuck in a dark place. Niles lived a calculated life, curating it to seem like he had all his ducks in a row. He was dishonest to others and he was dishonest to himself. He shouldn’t have to resort to scheming to feel good. He shouldn’t have to toy with women’s hearts just because he was a coward and didn’t want to admit that he was a vulnerable, fucked up piece of work. That he was afraid they’d replace his mother. That he was afraid they wouldn’t love him for him, all the bad and good combined. Girls fell for his potential but not the boy he was. Well, Natalia loved that boy but Niles knew, any other time, and maybe another life, she would’ve been perfect for him but as long as he was struggling with his own dark cloud, she would never be meant for him. Not really. His theory was proven when he let her go. She was able to soar, leaving him behind while she stepped into the light. She was free and unapologetically Natalia. His best friend. She was all that and more, and that was all thanks to him releasing her and allowing her to breathe. Taking away a pain that was killing her every single day. As Dwight Moody once said: Character is what you are in the dark. Perhaps this was Mr. Beau’s way of telling Niles to come out into the light. Not show the man he was going to become, because even Niles didn’t know that, but a reflection of him on the inside. Who he was at the moment. Someone so imperfect who so desperately needed to do well or he’d drown. Just like David O’Hara did. Someone so imperfect that he needed to find a distraction, unable to process the reality of the world. Just like Allison Davies did. Or someone so imperfect that he’d kill and be killed, unable to see beyond the pain, choosing to take matters into his own hands. Just like Charlie Decker did. [color=E4DF9B]“You’re gonna be fine, Mister Sinclair,”[/color] Beau glanced out at the weather, it seemed to be slowing down for the moment. He knew he couldn’t stop Niles from leaving. All he could really do was let him know that he would always be there and always leave a light on for the kids of Edenridge. [color=E4DF9B]“If you’re gonna go, better go now before it starts heavy again.”[/color] Reaching below the counter, Antoine pulled out the dessert that his former student had brought to him as an act of kindness. He would save it for when his Colleen was home. No doubt she would love it. [color=E4DF9B]“Take care Niles and thank you.”[/color] [color=19C8AC]“No, thank you! Catch you later Mr. Beau and stay safe. You too, kid,”[/color] and with that, Niles walked into the night, venturing into the dark, like he always did. Time and time again. [/indent][/indent][/color]