The garden always smelled fresh, even through the winters that hit New York. If tranquil had a sent this would probably hit the nail on the head. For Marlowe, however, this was anything but. In the midst of a sea of orchids and a variety of colorful flowers, sat a man brimming with a lethal mix of agitation and despair taught against the trunk of a large oak. He'd excused himself from the crowd of teachers prepping themselves for the 'Welcome Back' assembly when a certain tone rang louder than all hell from his pocket—luckily, the students had yet to arrive when he left. The day had started off excellent, with his regular morning exercise and meal, and veered off into complete and utter anguish from just a ringtone and a few words. Now his suit laid in ruins with tree bark, sap, and green staining the backside of his entirety. But that didn't seem to matter to the slumped over form currently screaming into the touch phone pressed against the side of his face. It was a sight to behold, a man with disheveled hair and pants a nice patch of green on the underside who seemed to have forgotten he had worked so hard that morning to look presentable. He was still a sight for sore eyes, but it was obvious that there was a bit of an issue currently troubling him. He wasn't necessarily screaming like he wanted to, but there was an audible strain in his voice that bordered between frustrated and completely agonized.
"I don't want to talk to his lawyer," he growled, "What's there to talk about? I share half of my things with him; he can take whatever the hell he wants. Does that no longer matter? Because it seemed like a goddamned vase mattered more than our nine years together."
There was a brief pause before static broke through, turning into a soft and meek voice. "I can't convince him otherwise. He wants it postponed."
"For a month? All he needs to do is give me the agreement papers. There's no need to take this to court if there's no issue, aside from the one that he's making," Marlowe groaned, hand working to undo the tie. The more he talked the harder it was to breath. "For all I know, he's still my husband and you're still my goddamn mother-in-law; let me talk to him. Please. I just want this to be over and I know he's sure as hell not having any second thoughts."
"I'll see what I can do Mars, but you know how he is. He's a mule when it comes to having his way. You do know that you still can't formally meet right? Not unless you're going to court. He'd have a fit if he had to start this process over."
"I would rather die than inconvenience him," Marlowe remarked, enunciating his words to denote his sarcasm, though even he could hear the inflection of truth hiding behind the comment. There was only silence from the other end and he could suddenly tell she was frowning.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he apologized, "I'm sorry, you don't deserve that. Most of all, I'm sorry for forcing you to be our unofficial mediator."
"I want this to go as smoothly as you do, Marlowe."
"I know. Look, I have to go. Tell him that we need to talk and that I'm free whenever he needs me—I mean, whenever he feels like discussing this."
"Alright, Mars, you stay safe. You know you're always welcome here, when this is all over. Love you, dear," and with that she hung up and Marlowe simply stood.
He hadn't budged from his spot until the line had gone completely dead, beeping incessantly in his ear. Bringing it down to cut off his end, he noticed the time at the top: he was missing the assembly. If only he could have willed that conversation to go quicker, but his powers would have none of the turmoil he was currently experiencing. Of course, he couldn't go in looking the way that he did—that would be worse than being late.
Heading through the front, Marlowe made his way to one of the bathrooms near the assembly hall to fix the mess of hair atop his head and possibly attempt to fervently wipe away the obvious grass stains spotting his pants. Stepping out, he made his way through the back of the auditorium and down the side until he could make a straight shot into the backstage. He could practically feel Kitty's uninhibited glare as he walked hastily through, avoiding some of the student's stares. He was pretty successful in going undetected from the majority of the people in the auditorium. They were all glued to either their conversations or Mrs. Pryde as she spoke and not the figure finding his spot at the end of the line of teachers, currently too busy tying his tie, buttoning his suit jacket, and running a hand one last time through his hair to acknowledge anyone. He flashed a bright smile, hoping to whatever god there was that a minimal amount of people had noticed his late entrance and still slightly disheveled look. Marlowe was currently already too exhausted to answer any questions or demands, especially from any of the other teachers.
