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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's War - 3. Chapter 3

Will had given up, the bar was too quiet for him, and he was feeling old. It was a goth bar, a place he had never complete fit into, but his friends seemed to like hanging there. He often found himself resting on the end of the bar sipping something non-alcoholic and watching all the young and pretty goths flit to and fro about him. All the while he wondered what possessed them to get dressed up in black and make the trip every Tuesday night.

He had stood, watching his roommate and best friend Jared flirt with as many girls as he could, teasing them to the point where they were ready to pounce on him out of sheer lust, and then simply walking away from them, on to the next conquest. As hard as Will tried, he just couldn't act like that; sure he could get a date if he wanted to--many found him attractive--but the vacant and vacuous guys who frequented the gay bars held little interest for him. Again, why bother? It was too easy to sleep with one; it was the conversation over breakfast that got to him.

He had tried, he had talked politics with one guy who simply stared at him and asked him what a caucus was. He had given up at that point. The guy of his dreams definitely didn't go out to a bar on a Tuesday night. No, the guy of his dreams was back in Ottawa articling with a law firm and moving on with his life. Which meant Will had to settle for second best. And Will was content to let him come to him; seek him out for a change.

Of course that meant he was single and had been for months. His last boyfriend had stayed in Ottawa when Will had moved to Toronto to pursue his career, leaving them trapped in a long-distance relationship where sex wasn't a possibility, and their most meaningful conversations were through an MSN chat window at three am. He had held out as long as he could, realizing that their conversations had become less frequent, less intense, and eventually they had just stopped talking altogether. There had been no breakup announcement; again, why bother? They both knew the relationship was over. It meant he was free to go looking for other entertainment, and he knew Andrew was already involved with someone else.

So there he was, two thirty on a Tuesday night in the Yonge Street area of downtown Toronto, hands stuffed into the pockets of his battered leather bomber heading back to his car. Beneath his feet the roar of a subway car heading northwards rattled the grate he stood upon. Jared could find his own way back to the house they shared; Will was tired and had work the next day, no matter how much he wanted to forget about that.

Avery-Woods had scheduled a board meeting to discuss the impending acquisition of Tri-Tech, not that it adversely affected anything Will was involved with, but he was still expected to attend, playing nice for the boss. The golden boy on display for everyone to see. A glorified puppet paraded for the amusement of men who still couldn't believe anyone so young could successfully run a department in such a successful firm.

It was a continual frustration for him; he often just wished they would leave him alone to run his department. But for some reason, the directors never could. He always had "advice" or a friendly "suggestion" to consider, and he knew that a number of his colleagues resented the faith Avery-Woods placed in him. The old man seemed to enjoy watching his older managers squirm at the thought of such an ambitious young man in their midst. It kept them on their toes.

However Will didn't find it amusing at all.

He dodged the steady stream of traffic as he crossed Yonge street and blew out a sigh as he fished out his keys. The Jeep was safely parked across the street in a stationary lot that cost entirely too much for the convenience of letting him park across the road from his favourite bar. Typical Toronto, though; everything in the downtown core was astronomically expensive, yet everywhere else was cheap.

That was the reason he lived tucked out in the middle of suburbia in Scarborough. It was quiet, cheap, and as long as he had a car, convenient, though the commute downtown each morning was a chore he detested with a passion. Everyone poured down the Don Valley Parkway at the same time and he often simply parked the Jeep at Kennedy Station and took the TTC Subway downtown. But that defeated the purpose of having a car, and at two thirty he would miss the last train and have to deal with the after-hours bus service, never pleasant.

He stepped around a couple kissing passionately in the doorway to another pub, a cab waiting patiently for them to finish their good nights. It was a very public display of affection Will never could be comfortable with. He liked to be affectionate, but behind a closed door. How could anyone stand the attention they drew? He was probably just cynical, but then he had only had one guy he felt that strongly for. The guys since Andrew had been simply there, a half-hearted attempt at a relationship that simply went nowhere. He guessed it was because he didn't have time for it, work came first.

Although it had to be nice to feel that way about someone again. To simply forget the world while you kissed someone with reckless abandon, to just get lost in them for awhile.

He felt a pang of jealousy rising as he fished out his keys and hurried towards the parking lot.

"Carter!" Jared bellowed from across the street emerging from the doorway of the bar he had just left.

Will turned reluctantly; he could have just pretended he hadn't heard it, gone to his Jeep and driven home, but then that wouldn't be the right thing to do, no matter how much he wanted to. He placed a forced smile on his face and crossed back to the bar. "Yeah?" he asked, slipping his keys back into his pocket.

"You leavin'?" Jared asked, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one, stopping a moment to flash a smile at a young girl who was enjoying one herself.

It amazed Will the lengths people went to just to have a cigarette in the city, driven out into the cold Canadian nights, huddled in doorways just to have a smoke. Hell, the right to pollute your own body in peace was now illegal, the non-smoking minority flexing its muscle against the smoking majority. You had to love a liberal government. What was next, gay marriage? Oh wait... being a non-smoker and someone who didn't believe marriage was necessary for anyone, he couldn't care less.

"I was thinking about it," Will replied as he glanced reluctantly towards the parking garage and his way home.

Jared puffed on his cigarette and nodded, "Give me a few minutes and I'll come with you??can you hang around for another half-hour?"

Will contemplated making a break for it, jumping into his car and speeding for home and the bed he was craving. But he caved and nodded at Jared, "Sure thing, bud; I'm going to go for a walk though, don't feel like being in the bar at the moment."

"Sure," Jared replied. "Meet you back at the car in a few."

And with that Will was trapped downtown for another hour or so.

He blew out an aggravated sigh as he walked back across the road and leaned on the wall of the parking lot. He had almost made a clean getaway, but then he didn't really mind too much, it was a beautiful night. The end of winter was always filled with great nights, not quite warm enough to be sweltering, but definitely not too cold to be standing there. It was comfortable, and he could just stand there and not have to think about anything.

A group of slightly drunk men had crossed the road and were discussing some sports team or another beside him, and he paid it no attention. They had to be waiting for a taxi, and as usual were being boisterous about the wait. One of them was making his opinion known loudly, but again Will wasn't interested. He glanced past them absently up at the streetcars rumbling along Queen Street.

The street was alive with its usual throng of people emerging from bars, but one caught his eye. Not because he stood out, but more that his attention was focused directly on Will. For some reason he couldn't understand, it made him feel a bit self-conscious. There was an intensity about the smaller man walking towards him that drew his eyes.

The guy was short, hair tossed back out of his eyes carelessly, and the beginnings of a beard on his chin as if it fought for its right to be there but didn't quite belong; it shadowed his jaw line slightly. He smiled at Will rakishly as he leaned back, his hands snaking to and fro in front of him in a bizarre combination of gestures. Will couldn't help but chuckle at the ludicrous motions.

The young man smiled when he succeeded in making Will laugh, and he stopped in front of him and grinned, "Hey, work here?"

Will looked at him in confusion, "What?"

The strange short guy reached out to brush Will's bomber jacket with its corporate logo sewn onto the arm like a patch. "Security guard?" he asked with a smile.

Will glanced down and shook his head, "Oh god no, just my company."

"Oh, cool," the guy said still smiling and his green eyes gleaming as he pushed his hair aside from them. "Waiting for a cab, then?"

Will shook his head. "I'm driving, waiting for a buddy to get out of the bar," he indicated across the road to the bar. "How about you?"

"Oh, I was taking the kids to school," the guy said with a wry grin, "on the short bus."

Will looked down at him, "What?"

"Pool, over at the pool hall. I took them to school." He patted his pocket, "Made myself a bit of cash."

"That's good," Will said in bemusement; there was something contagious about that smile, an impish roguishness that was warming. "No, I was just about to go home."

"That's a shame," the guy replied, sticking out his hand. "I'm Marc, by the way."

"Will," he accepted Marc's hand, feeling the firm handshake, not what he had expected.

"Cool, do you know where I can score," his voice dropped, "you know, some weed?" he asked as he stuffed his own hands into his pockets to mirror Will.

"No clue," Will replied honestly, his eyes searching the doorway to the bar looking for Jared to appear so he could go home.

Marc nodded as he crossed to the drunks asking them the same question. Will couldn't help but watch the strange young man, who seemed totally unconcerned at the effect of his forthright nature on other people. To brazenly walk up to a group of strangers and ask them for drugs, Will didn't think he would have the guts.

Marc returned a few moments later and shrugged. "They didn't have any," he said as he rested a hand on the wall. "I know a guy over at another bar who usually has some if you want to come."

"I don't smoke," Will replied, yet strangely there he was walking with Marc up the street. He wasn't sure why he was doing it, but there he was, enjoying this stranger's company.

"You don't mind if I do?" Marc asked, looking hopeful that he hadn't offended Will.

"No, not at all," Will admitted. "It's not my thing, but what you do is up to you."

"Cool, 'cause I like the way it helps me to relax," he grinned. "I like this too," he moved a hand back and forth between them.

"What?" Will asked looking over at Marc.

"This, dude," he moved his hands again. "This connection, it's the best part of meeting someone for the first time."

Will shook his head with a smile; he had found himself in some strange situations before, but Marc was definitely in a league of his own when it came to the bizarre. But he found he didn't really mind; there was an energy to the stranger that he just enjoyed. It was like meeting someone you just clicked with, he couldn't explain it, and as they just talked about life and work as they walked up to the Bar, Will found it was just nice to go with the flow of life once in awhile.

When they finally reached the other bar, Will waited outside a moment on the street while Marc ducked inside to find his buddy. And as he leaned against the rail and stared at the gaudy Molson sign flickering in the window, he couldn't help but wonder at the strange curveball life had tossed him. Just when all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and give up on the night.

He yawned, fighting back the wave of tiredness, as Marc sauntered out of the bar and rejoined him, the pair starting back up the street.

"Did you find him?" Will asked.

"Yeah I got some," Marc responded with a grin as he patted the pocket of his heavy wool winter coat that looked entirely too big for his small frame. To Will, who wasn't a tall man himself, Marc couldn't have been more than five foot five, but he matched it with a confident personality.

"Cool," Will said as he ducked around a couple of men who seemed to be carrying each other, one of them obviously too drunk to stand.

"Yeah," Marc chuckled as he looked back at the drunks, "sure you don't want to join me?"

"Again, not my thing," Will said as they returned to the parking lot, still no sign of Jared so he returned to resting on the wall, "but thanks for the offer, though."

"Marc!" He turned, Will turning as well as a young African-Canadian skater girl darted across the road to join them.

Marc glanced back at Will and smiled. "Libbet," he said as she wrapped her arms around him and the two began to kiss.

Will frowned in surprise, but dismissed it; it really didn't bother him at all.

Marc stepped back out of her embrace, "Libbet, this is Will, new buddy of mine. Will, this is Libbet, my girlfriend."

She looked drunk, barely able to recognize that there was another man there, but she smiled prettily anyway and shook his hand. Will supposed she was attractive, but far too thin for his tastes. She turned back to Marc. "Didjagetsome?" she asked in a tumble of words.

He nodded and patted his pocket, "Sure did." He gave her a smile.

"Cool," she said in a slur. "I have to say goodbye to Emily then we can go home."

"I'll be right here," Marc replied as he leaned on the wall next to Will watching her stumble back to her friends smoking outside the bar.

"Nice girl," Will observed.

Marc followed his gaze, "Yeah." Then he stopped and looked up at Will, "Hey, you know, there's no such thing as a wasted conversation."

Will glanced down, wondering what he meant by that; he opened his mouth to ask, as Jared emerged from the bar and waved over at him.

"Your friend's here," Marc said, almost reluctantly. "Been great chatting to you, I'll see you around, right?"

"Sure," Will said as he straightened up and shook Marc's hand. "We should do coffee or something one day."

"Cool," Marc said, before he walked off to his girlfriend.

On the drive home that night, listening to Jared's stories about the girls he met that night, Will seemed distracted. He thought about how strange life could be at times. It created some odd people, and put them in unique situations to see what would happen.

Copyright © 2011 Topher_Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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