1920s Runaway Guys Ch2
Aaand here's the long awaited chapter two! just kidding, no one was waiting for this.
Again, you can read them in any order, but I suggest reading them in this order: (you'll be depressed in the end no matter what, but this way you can be less depressed)
Jon's POV
After his encounter with Emile and Tim, Jon couldn’t bring himself to open his bar. He didn’t have the energy. He blamed the kid for that. Yet there was a part of him that almost missed it.
For a few days all he did was go to his saloon and listen to the radio all by his lonesome. He felt like an idiot, sitting behind the bar counter and not opening the place up, but he didn’t care all the same. He didn’t feel so lonely when he had the radio playing, but it also made him envious of Tim more than it had before. He felt bad for being jealous since Tim turned out to be such a nice person. There was nothing to be done about it though.
Turning the radio off with a click, Jon heard someone at the door. “Aww man, it’s closed again?” the person whined. Jon’s mouth curled into a smile-it was Emile. And he sounded annoyed. That was what made Jon so happy. Emile annoyed him so now he was getting some payback. Emile, however, didn’t stop at just being disappointed. No, of course not, he had to then start banging on the door and demanding it be opened.
Jon glared at the door, trying to will the boy to stop with his mind. Surprisingly it seemed to work. Against the dusty window at the top of the door Jon could see the silhouette of someone trying to look in. Then it disappeared and it seemed Emile had left. He heard some mumbling outside, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. It was normal for people to talk to each other on the streets.
A few minutes later there was a softer knock the door. He heard someone ask if he was okay and all he could respond was, “Go away!” He wanted to be left alone, dammit.
Soon after there was another knock, but instead of coming from the front door, it was in the back. Jon grumbled to himself and he got up from his seat and made him way to the back where his room and kitchen were. There wasn’t much to this place, but it was good enough for him. He was alone here anyway.
It was weird though. Jon didn’t think anyone knew about the door in the back. It was hidden pretty well, even to the neighbouring shops and houses. Maybe it was a travelling salesman or something. The milkman had already come today, so it couldn’t be him. Unless he forgot something perhaps.
On his way to the door, he happened to glance at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible, but that was all the better. Maybe he could scare the person at the door off by pretending to be crazy if they wouldn’t leave him alone.
Rubbing the back of his neck as he answered the door, he stared at the ones who apparently knocked. Tim and Emile were standing there in front of his door, and Emile had the stupidest look on his face. As soon as he regained his wits he slammed the door and pushed his back against it. He really did not want to deal with those two at that moment. Well, Tim maybe, but definitely not Emile. He felt a little bad that he hadn’t even asked them to leave politely, but it was their own fault. They should’ve just left him alone like he asked. It was a simple enough request. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t listen.
Someone soon started pushing against the door. Jon planted his feet on the floor and pushed on the door to the best of his ability. “Go away, damn it,” he mumbled to himself.
Suddenly, Emile’s voice penetrated the door, “That was really rude, you know!” For a moment, Jon thought he’d heard him tell them to go away, but he also knew that was impossible. Figuring he meant slamming the door in his face, he replied.
“And you trying to get into my house isn’t?” he made sure to say it loud enough that they would hear, but he couldn’t help but feel he’s said it a little too loudly. He wasn’t trying to be rude; he just wanted to be left alone.
“We’re just worried about you!” Emile replied then. Jon couldn’t figure out why they would be worried about him. They barely knew him. Did they even know anything about him? Other than he owned a bar because that was obvious.
“I can take care of myself… damn it…” Jon said, his voice getting quiet as he continued to speak. “I don’t need you to worry about me, I’m fine,” he said more to himself at this point than to the two on the other side of the door.
“Then why do you look so terrible?”
Jon’s eyes widened when he heard Emile say that. He sounded annoyed, but genuinely worried about him. He couldn’t figure out why someone who had met him once would care so much. It didn’t make sense.
No, what didn’t make sense was why Jon tried to avoid the boy so much. Even he couldn’t figure out why. He felt so annoyed just looking at the kid’s face. Giving up, Jon walked away from the door. As soon as he did, Emile got it open and fell face first onto the floor. Tim apologised for the intrusion, but all Emile did was start yelling.
“What’s your problem?!” Jon didn’t turn toward them right away. It wasn’t until Emile grabbed his shoulder and forced him around that he looked at the other two. Despite his voice, Emile had a very soft, concerned look on his face. It made Jon feel bad for the way he’d been acting, but not sorry enough to explain himself.
He pushed Emile’s hand off his shoulder and turned away again, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Get out.” After that he tuned out anything Emile said. He wasn’t even sure if anything was actually said to him. The next thing he realised another hand was on his shoulder.
Allowing himself to be turned around, he found this time it was Tim. He looked worried as well, “Sorry for comin’ in like this. We’ll leave now.” Emile protested this, but then suddenly stopped.
As he heard their footsteps walk away from him, Jon suddenly felt terrible. He turned to tell them not to leave, but as he did the door shut. He thought of running after them, but stopped himself. Instead he sunk down to the floor.
He didn’t know why he’d been having so much trouble making friends in this damned country. It seemed every time he tried either they weren’t interested in being friends or he ruined it somehow. At this point, he’d given up on making friends.
It hadn’t always been like this. When he was a sportscaster he had no problems making friends. He felt more confident back then. But ever since…
No, now wasn’t the time to think about that. He was already upset. He didn’t need to think about the stupid war and how it ruined him. He didn’t need to think of that so he wasn’t going to. He crawled to his bed and lay on it completely still.
He stared at the ceiling. He felt really stupid. He had no idea why, but sometimes he just felt like he wasn’t able to do anything. He didn’t have a really successful business, except on really hot days. His entire life was ruined with a telegram. He would never get over that, he could tell. It wasn’t his fault any of this happened…
Yet he felt lucky. Things could have been much worse than they had been. He could have actually had to participate in the war via the front lines. He still hated everything that had happened to him though.
He wished he could apologise to Tim and Emile. He didn’t mean to act the way he had… At that point he decided he would try to be their friend. Well, Tim’s friend at least, he wasn’t so sure about Emile yet. There was still something about that boy that he just didn’t like. He really wished he could figure out what exactly it was.
Emile's POV
The day after he’d met Jon and Tim, Emile practically skipped away from work to Hosers. He’d had so much fun the night before he couldn’t wait to go there again. He didn’t even notice how tired he’d been all day.
When he got to the door, however, the place seemed to be closed. Emile scowled at the door as though it had offended him in some way. It was at this time that Emile realised just how exhausted he really was. Perhaps it would be better if he went home early today. He could get some rest then spend another night at the saloon.
The next day was the same, though. He tried to open the door but it was definitely locked. For a moment he was worried Jon may have been arrested for owning the place, but he was sure he’d have read about it in the paper. Things like that always seemed to make it in. It was like they thought it would do some good.
He decided to give up going to the saloon the next day. For the next few days he kept his eye on the papers to see if there was anything about Jon, but there wasn’t. He started to feel legitimately worried about him. Emile began to ask around about him, but it didn’t seem anyone knew much about the guy. All they seemed to say was that he was such a nice guy and he lived in the back of the bar he owned. Emile wasn’t sure what to say about the former statement, but the latter may have been a clue. If Emile went there and demanded he be let in, maybe Jon would actually oblige. That is, if he needed to. Surely Jon wouldn’t keep the place closed forever.
Going to the saloon the next day, Emile couldn’t help but shout, “Aw man! It’s closed again?” He almost expected that the plan he’d formulated wouldn’t be necessary. He began to think maybe Jon just went back to wherever he was from for a few days. Without thinking about it too much, Emile began pounding on the door. “Jon! I know you’re there, let me in!” but even after all that there was no answer.
Wiping off the window on the door as best he could, Emile tried to look inside. He could swear that he saw someone inside, but he wasn’t 100% sure. It was very difficult to see. He was about to hit the door again, but someone grabbed his arm, “Don’cha think that’s enough?” Emile wheeled around to see who was there.
“M-Mr. Bishop…” Emile started wide-eyed. He didn’t expect to meet him again. Not like this, at least.
“No need to be so stiff. ‘Tim’ is just fine,” Tim smiled. “So wha’cha think you’re doing making so much noise around here?”
“W-well, I was just…” Emile managed to stutter out. He couldn’t help but feel he made a fool of himself the last time he was around Tim, and he didn’t want to do that again. He didn’t seem to be doing any better this time though. He shoulders sunk as he realised what he was doing, “I just wanted to uh… see Jon again…?” he looked at his shoes, slightly embarrassed by his actions. “A-and you, too!” he then looked up at Tim. “I thought maybe we could all see each other here again and…” Emile sighed. From the beginning he had all the doubt in his mind that he’d never meet these two again, but he didn’t want to give up trying.
Tim chuckled at him, making Emile feel even more embarrassed. “Nothin’ wrong with wanting to see someone, but if he doesn’t want to open up, then he’s not going to…” Tim sighed, “It’s a shame though, I really wanted to talk to him too…” Emile looked up at him and smiled.
“Well, we could hang out…?” he said with a hopeful voice. If Jon wouldn’t let them in the bar, they could always go somewhere else. It was his loss. There was no reason they shouldn’t get to have fun just because Jon was being a part pooper.
Smiling, Tim nodded, “Although…” he began to stroke his chin, “I am a little worried about Jon. He hasn’t come out of there in quite some time. I wonder if he’s okay…” Emile glanced at the door, not sure what to do. He was somewhat worried about Jon, but it was the guy’s own fault for not opening the door.
“You don’t think something’s happening to him, do you?” Emile suddenly blurted out. He hoped he was wrong and Jon was just being moody, but if something did happen he might need help.
Thinking for a moment, Tim went and knocked lightly on the door. “Jon? Are you okay in there?” In response, there was a muffled ‘go away’ but other than that there was nothing. “He sounds fine,” Tim stated.
“Yeah…” Emile sighed. He was somewhat relieved but also somewhat angry. If Jon was ‘fine’, why was he shutting himself away? And why was it ever since they had met? He couldn’t help but feel it was his fault somehow. Jon didn’t seem to like him much.
“Chin up, kid,” Tim said to him suddenly. Emile hadn’t even realised he had been frowning, “C’mon, I know how we can get him to open up.”
Perplexed, Emile followed Tim through an alley next to the bar. Then right to the back of the building. Hidden between piles of barrels was a door. “How did you know this was here?” Emile stared at the door, “And how is this gonna make him open up?”
“Don’t worry, he’ll open if we knock here. Not a lot of people seem to know about this door. Except the milkman I saw the other day, that is.” Tim proceeded to knock on the door.
Emile almost laughed. Who knew Tim could be so sneaky? There was some sort of complaint from the other side of the door and then the sound of a lock unlatching. Emile gave Jon a big smile when he opened the door, to which Jon replied with slamming the door in their faces. Emile jumped when he did so and tried to open the door. He pushed on the door, but Jon seemed to be pushing back. “That was really rude, you know!”
“And you trying to get into my house isn’t?” Jon yelled. He had a point, but Emile didn’t care.
“We’re just worried about you!”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Then why do you look so terrible?!” Emile huffed, moving away form the door. The more he thought about the split second he saw Jon, the worse he realised Jon looked. His hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Or maybe that he had too much sleep. “Seriously, if there’s something wrong you can talk about it to us. We just want to help.”
Suddenly, there was no more resistance on the door and Emile caused it to swing open. He fell to the floor, but stood up quickly. “What’s your problem?” he said as he got up. Jon faced away from him and didn’t even turn to look at him. Feeling somewhat angry, Emile walked over to him and forced him to turn around.
Jon look angry for only a split second before looking surprised. Coldly, he pushed Emile’s hand away and turned around again. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Get out.” Emile felt hurt. He was just trying to help, but Jon didn’t seem to want help.
“Do you want to be alone forever, or what?” he said without thinking, “I used to look up to you, but now you’re just a-” He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Tim shaking his head and giving him a stern look.
“Sorry Jon,” Tim said. “Sorry for comin’ in like this. We’ll leave now.”
“But-” Emile began but immediately stopped once Tim gave him another look. Tim dragged Emile out of there, shutting the door behind them.
“We really oughta leave him alone.” Tim said once they were a fair distance from Jon’s place, “He’s having a rough time with something, and while I agree it would be better for him to talk about it, we shouldn’t push him.”
“If he’s feeling down he could at least let us try to cheer him up. And if he doesn’t want to talk he could say it nicely…” Emile frowned, looking at the ground. He knew he was being stupid, but Jon was being stupid too.
“It’s his life. We barely know anything about him. Besides…” Tim began walking away from Emile, “You oughta get home before your mother starts to worry.”
Emile looked at him with a confused face, but then saw that the sun was setting. He got in trouble for not coming home until late the other day and he really didn’t want that to happen again. He said good-bye to Tim and rushed home. All the way, he wondered if Jon would ever open up to them.
Tim's POV
Hands stuffed into his pockets, Tim walked down the familiar streets. No matter how many times he walked through them, there was something interesting to look at. Or something interesting to hear. On this particular day, there was a familiar voice to hear.
“Put me down, Lucah!” Tim chuckled when he heard them. Not far away he found Lucah spinning Josh around, laughing like a mad woman.
“Come now, Lucah, aren’t you a bit too old to be playing with boys?” Tim asked, standing to the side and watching the two.
“Never,” Lucah replied as she put Josh down. She grinned at Tim, “Wha’cha doing here, anyway?”
“Nothin’ much, just looking around.” Tim smiled as he watched Josh wobble around in his dizzy state until he eventually leant on a wall.
“I think I’m gonna be sick…” Josh said, muffled by the sound of his hand over his mouth. Lucah went over to him and ruffled his hair.
“You’ll be fine. It’s not like this isn’t your first time being spun around.” She laughed at him as he glared at her. Tim laughed as well. Their energy was the reason he liked to be around them. He liked to be around people who were happy. It’s what made him so happy all the time.
Josh pouted at Lucah, but ignored her and turned to Tim. “So… I heard you met Chugga the other day.” Tim stared at the boy in confusion. He had no idea who that was, how could he have met him. “Sorry, Emile.”
“Huh?” Tim looked at him with even more confusion, “How’d you-”
“Me and Chugga-er, Emile- work together sometimes,” Josh grinned. “He was late for work on Friday, and I heard the boss yelling at him.” He laughed at it as though his coworker getting in trouble was some funny joke. “I asked him about it later and he said he’d met you. I was a little surprised… he’s kind of crazy when it comes to his obsession with wanting to be a sportscaster like you.” Josh shuffled his feet, “So sorry if he annoyed you or something…”
Tim laugh and ruffled the boy’s hair, “It was fine. He certainly has a lot of energy though.”
“That good, then.” Josh grinned, “I still think he’s annoying sometime though.”
“He probably thinks the same thing about you,” Lucah interjected from the side, “Anyway, we should get going,” turning to Tim she began to explain as she pointed at Josh with her thumb, “His mother had me go pick him up because he apparently didn’t get home until late last night.”
“Mom’s just a worry wart.” Josh frowned, “I wasn’t doing anything.” Lucah gave him a skeptical look and Josh glared at her. “I was just hanging out with Tyler.”
Lucah stifled a laugh, “Oh, of course. No wonder you’re mother is worried about you. Spending late nights with Tyler isn’t something I’d want my child doing either.” Josh merely laughed wryly while Tim laughed a little nervously. “Well, time to go home. Come on, Josh.”
Shoulders sinking, Josh followed Lucah as they wandered off together. Tim stood and watched them walk away for a bit. As he turned around and began to walk down the street, he noticed another familiar face.
Emile seemed to be trying to get into Jon’s bar. It must have been closed again that day. That was a little strange. It had been closed for a few days straight now. Tim vaguely wondered if Jon was perhaps sick.
He jumped a bit when Emile started pounding on the door and demanding to be let in. Tim sighed, rushing over to him and grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “Don’cha think that’s enough?”
Wheeling around, Emile stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Mr. Bishop.” Tim winced at being called that.
“No need to be so stiff.” Tim smiled, trying to make Emile relax a bit, “‘Tim’ is just fine.” Letting go of the boy, he turned toward the door, “So wha’cha think you’re doing making so much noise around here?” He could’ve guessed that Emile just wanted to know what was up with Jon. He wanted to know too, but that didn’t excuse the way he was going about it.
Emile didn’t seem to be relaxed at all. He only seemed to be able to stutter out, “W-well, I was just…” For a few moment, Tim wondered if he was going to continue that line of thought or not. He opened his mouth to ask when Emile suddenly continue, “I just wanted to uh…” he seemed embarrassed about what he was saying, “see Jon again. A-and you, too. I thought maybe we could all see each other here again and…” he sighed, seemingly not knowing what else to say.
“Nothin’ wrong with wanting to see someone, but if he doesn’t want to open up, then he’s not going to…” Tim sighed, “It’s a shame though, I really wanted to talk to him too…” He looked at the door, feeling a little sad. Maybe a little worried as well. He hoped Jon was okay. Though he had a feeling he wasn’t.
“Well,” Emile began, causing Tim to look at him, hoping he would quell his worries about Jon, “we could hang out…?” he looked hopefully at him. Tim smiled a bit, but that really didn’t help the bad feeling he had. Despite that, he nodded at Emile. He’d love to hang out.
Stroking his chin, he said, “Although, I am a little worried about Jon. He hasn’t come out of there in quite some time. I wonder if he’s okay…” He knew there wasn’t much they could do if Jon refused to open the door, but the pit in his stomach told him they needed to at least try. And by that, he didn’t mean Emile’s definition of trying.
Emile sounded just as worried as Tim felt, “You don’t think something’s happened to him, do you?” Tim had to wonder. He really hoped he was wrong and went to knock on the door. He made sure to do it lighter than Emile had-much lighter-so that Jon wouldn’t be disturbed if he were maybe sleeping.
“Jon?” he said to the door, “Are you okay in there?”
“Go away!” was all the came from the other side of the door. Well, at least that meant he was probably okay. But there was still that terrible feeling that something wasn’t right.
“He sounds fine,” Tim said, adding in his mind, ‘Even if that’s all that it is. At least it’s something.” Looking over at Emile, the boy seemed to be saddened by Jon’s response. Tim sighed, yet smiled, “Chin up, kid. C’mon, I know how we can get him to open up.” He’d remembered seeing a door in the back of the building when he had gone for a walk through the streets the other day. The other person he’d ever seen knock on it was the milkman, so he assumed it was a more private door. He led Emile to it, walking in the side alley and behind the building.
“How did you know this was here?” Emile stared at the door, “And how is this gonna make him open up?” He sounded genuinely confused, which amused Tim. He explained to him how he’d found the door in the first place and assured him that if there was going to be a way to get Jon to open up, this was it. Tim walked up to the door and knocked on it. He watched Emile more than the door. He was somewhat afraid the boy would do something rash when Jon opened the door.
What he hadn’t expected, though, was that Jon would open the door, take one look at Emile, and then slam it closed. The sound of the door shutting that quickly made him jump. He tried to react before Emile did, but it was already too late by the time he even thought of doing so. Tim listened to the door yell at each other for far too long. “Guys!” he tried, but it didn’t seem that either of them heard him. He didn’t blame them considering how much they were yelling at each other. Sighing and putting his face in his hands, he gave up until Jon finally opened the door. Or rather, let go of it so Emile would fall on his face. Tim had to admit that he sort of deserved that for what he had been doing.
Of course, the yelling didn’t stop there, “What’s your problem?!” Emile began again as soon as he picked himself up off the floor. He stomped over to Jon and forced him around. Tim wished they could all just calm down and talk about this, but it didn’t’ seem that was likely to happen.
For a moment, though, when Jon first looked at Emile, he looked almost apologetic. Like he thought this was entirely his own fault. It wasn’t, of course, and Tim couldn’t imagine why Jon would feel that way. It must’ve been his imagination. Right as soon as he’d been turned around to face his two new guests, he shoved Emile away and turn to his previous direction.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
That was a little harsh, Tim felt. But there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it, “Honestly, you two, you’re bickering like a married couple,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. They didn’t seem to hear that comment, probably because Tim said it rather quietly.
Emile didn’t seem to be done yelling yet, much to Tim’s dismay. “Do you want to be alone forever, or what?” looking at the boy wide-eyed, Tim couldn’t believe he’d actually said that. “I used to look up to you, but now you’re just a-” Tim put a hand on his shoulder to stop him before he said something he’d regret. Though, it was probably already too late for that.
“Sorry Jon,” Tim apologised more for Emile than himself, putting his other hand on Jon’s shoulder to make sure he was listening, “Sorry for comin’ in like this,” he gripped Emile’s shirt tighter, fully prepared to drag him out if he protested at all. “We’ll leave now.”
“But-” Emile tried, but Tim gave him an angry look and pulled him out of there.
“You really oughta leave him alone.” He said one they were far enough away from the building. “He’s having a rough time with something, and while I agree it would be better for him to talk about it, we shouldn’t push him.” The last thing he wanted to do was to anger someone. Though in this case it seemed he didn’t have a choice. Either Jon would be angry, or Emile would be angry. And considering Emile was just a kid, Tim cared less if he got mad at him.
“If he’s feeling down he could at least let us try to cheer him up. And if he doesn’t want to talk he could say it nicely…”
Tim sighed; despite his appearance Emile was definitely still a kid on the inside. He whined like one and still had a mostly perfect view of the world. But he was hot-blooded at the same time. Not a good combination. “It’s his life. We barely know anything about him. Besides,” ‘I don’t’ blame him for not wanting to talk to me…’ He wasn’t about to say that out loud, but it was how he felt. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk away, “You oughta get home before your mother starts to worry,” he said instead. Emile was quiet for a moment before making a gasping noise and saying a quick good-bye. Tim waved good-bye to him and continued down the street. Just because the kid needed to get home didn’t mean he had to.
What am I even doing anymore I don't even.
Again, you can read them in any order, but I suggest reading them in this order: (you'll be depressed in the end no matter what, but this way you can be less depressed)
Jon's POV
After his encounter with Emile and Tim, Jon couldn’t bring himself to open his bar. He didn’t have the energy. He blamed the kid for that. Yet there was a part of him that almost missed it.
For a few days all he did was go to his saloon and listen to the radio all by his lonesome. He felt like an idiot, sitting behind the bar counter and not opening the place up, but he didn’t care all the same. He didn’t feel so lonely when he had the radio playing, but it also made him envious of Tim more than it had before. He felt bad for being jealous since Tim turned out to be such a nice person. There was nothing to be done about it though.
Turning the radio off with a click, Jon heard someone at the door. “Aww man, it’s closed again?” the person whined. Jon’s mouth curled into a smile-it was Emile. And he sounded annoyed. That was what made Jon so happy. Emile annoyed him so now he was getting some payback. Emile, however, didn’t stop at just being disappointed. No, of course not, he had to then start banging on the door and demanding it be opened.
Jon glared at the door, trying to will the boy to stop with his mind. Surprisingly it seemed to work. Against the dusty window at the top of the door Jon could see the silhouette of someone trying to look in. Then it disappeared and it seemed Emile had left. He heard some mumbling outside, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. It was normal for people to talk to each other on the streets.
A few minutes later there was a softer knock the door. He heard someone ask if he was okay and all he could respond was, “Go away!” He wanted to be left alone, dammit.
Soon after there was another knock, but instead of coming from the front door, it was in the back. Jon grumbled to himself and he got up from his seat and made him way to the back where his room and kitchen were. There wasn’t much to this place, but it was good enough for him. He was alone here anyway.
It was weird though. Jon didn’t think anyone knew about the door in the back. It was hidden pretty well, even to the neighbouring shops and houses. Maybe it was a travelling salesman or something. The milkman had already come today, so it couldn’t be him. Unless he forgot something perhaps.
On his way to the door, he happened to glance at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible, but that was all the better. Maybe he could scare the person at the door off by pretending to be crazy if they wouldn’t leave him alone.
Rubbing the back of his neck as he answered the door, he stared at the ones who apparently knocked. Tim and Emile were standing there in front of his door, and Emile had the stupidest look on his face. As soon as he regained his wits he slammed the door and pushed his back against it. He really did not want to deal with those two at that moment. Well, Tim maybe, but definitely not Emile. He felt a little bad that he hadn’t even asked them to leave politely, but it was their own fault. They should’ve just left him alone like he asked. It was a simple enough request. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t listen.
Someone soon started pushing against the door. Jon planted his feet on the floor and pushed on the door to the best of his ability. “Go away, damn it,” he mumbled to himself.
Suddenly, Emile’s voice penetrated the door, “That was really rude, you know!” For a moment, Jon thought he’d heard him tell them to go away, but he also knew that was impossible. Figuring he meant slamming the door in his face, he replied.
“And you trying to get into my house isn’t?” he made sure to say it loud enough that they would hear, but he couldn’t help but feel he’s said it a little too loudly. He wasn’t trying to be rude; he just wanted to be left alone.
“We’re just worried about you!” Emile replied then. Jon couldn’t figure out why they would be worried about him. They barely knew him. Did they even know anything about him? Other than he owned a bar because that was obvious.
“I can take care of myself… damn it…” Jon said, his voice getting quiet as he continued to speak. “I don’t need you to worry about me, I’m fine,” he said more to himself at this point than to the two on the other side of the door.
“Then why do you look so terrible?”
Jon’s eyes widened when he heard Emile say that. He sounded annoyed, but genuinely worried about him. He couldn’t figure out why someone who had met him once would care so much. It didn’t make sense.
No, what didn’t make sense was why Jon tried to avoid the boy so much. Even he couldn’t figure out why. He felt so annoyed just looking at the kid’s face. Giving up, Jon walked away from the door. As soon as he did, Emile got it open and fell face first onto the floor. Tim apologised for the intrusion, but all Emile did was start yelling.
“What’s your problem?!” Jon didn’t turn toward them right away. It wasn’t until Emile grabbed his shoulder and forced him around that he looked at the other two. Despite his voice, Emile had a very soft, concerned look on his face. It made Jon feel bad for the way he’d been acting, but not sorry enough to explain himself.
He pushed Emile’s hand off his shoulder and turned away again, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Get out.” After that he tuned out anything Emile said. He wasn’t even sure if anything was actually said to him. The next thing he realised another hand was on his shoulder.
Allowing himself to be turned around, he found this time it was Tim. He looked worried as well, “Sorry for comin’ in like this. We’ll leave now.” Emile protested this, but then suddenly stopped.
As he heard their footsteps walk away from him, Jon suddenly felt terrible. He turned to tell them not to leave, but as he did the door shut. He thought of running after them, but stopped himself. Instead he sunk down to the floor.
He didn’t know why he’d been having so much trouble making friends in this damned country. It seemed every time he tried either they weren’t interested in being friends or he ruined it somehow. At this point, he’d given up on making friends.
It hadn’t always been like this. When he was a sportscaster he had no problems making friends. He felt more confident back then. But ever since…
No, now wasn’t the time to think about that. He was already upset. He didn’t need to think about the stupid war and how it ruined him. He didn’t need to think of that so he wasn’t going to. He crawled to his bed and lay on it completely still.
He stared at the ceiling. He felt really stupid. He had no idea why, but sometimes he just felt like he wasn’t able to do anything. He didn’t have a really successful business, except on really hot days. His entire life was ruined with a telegram. He would never get over that, he could tell. It wasn’t his fault any of this happened…
Yet he felt lucky. Things could have been much worse than they had been. He could have actually had to participate in the war via the front lines. He still hated everything that had happened to him though.
He wished he could apologise to Tim and Emile. He didn’t mean to act the way he had… At that point he decided he would try to be their friend. Well, Tim’s friend at least, he wasn’t so sure about Emile yet. There was still something about that boy that he just didn’t like. He really wished he could figure out what exactly it was.
Emile's POV
The day after he’d met Jon and Tim, Emile practically skipped away from work to Hosers. He’d had so much fun the night before he couldn’t wait to go there again. He didn’t even notice how tired he’d been all day.
When he got to the door, however, the place seemed to be closed. Emile scowled at the door as though it had offended him in some way. It was at this time that Emile realised just how exhausted he really was. Perhaps it would be better if he went home early today. He could get some rest then spend another night at the saloon.
The next day was the same, though. He tried to open the door but it was definitely locked. For a moment he was worried Jon may have been arrested for owning the place, but he was sure he’d have read about it in the paper. Things like that always seemed to make it in. It was like they thought it would do some good.
He decided to give up going to the saloon the next day. For the next few days he kept his eye on the papers to see if there was anything about Jon, but there wasn’t. He started to feel legitimately worried about him. Emile began to ask around about him, but it didn’t seem anyone knew much about the guy. All they seemed to say was that he was such a nice guy and he lived in the back of the bar he owned. Emile wasn’t sure what to say about the former statement, but the latter may have been a clue. If Emile went there and demanded he be let in, maybe Jon would actually oblige. That is, if he needed to. Surely Jon wouldn’t keep the place closed forever.
Going to the saloon the next day, Emile couldn’t help but shout, “Aw man! It’s closed again?” He almost expected that the plan he’d formulated wouldn’t be necessary. He began to think maybe Jon just went back to wherever he was from for a few days. Without thinking about it too much, Emile began pounding on the door. “Jon! I know you’re there, let me in!” but even after all that there was no answer.
Wiping off the window on the door as best he could, Emile tried to look inside. He could swear that he saw someone inside, but he wasn’t 100% sure. It was very difficult to see. He was about to hit the door again, but someone grabbed his arm, “Don’cha think that’s enough?” Emile wheeled around to see who was there.
“M-Mr. Bishop…” Emile started wide-eyed. He didn’t expect to meet him again. Not like this, at least.
“No need to be so stiff. ‘Tim’ is just fine,” Tim smiled. “So wha’cha think you’re doing making so much noise around here?”
“W-well, I was just…” Emile managed to stutter out. He couldn’t help but feel he made a fool of himself the last time he was around Tim, and he didn’t want to do that again. He didn’t seem to be doing any better this time though. He shoulders sunk as he realised what he was doing, “I just wanted to uh… see Jon again…?” he looked at his shoes, slightly embarrassed by his actions. “A-and you, too!” he then looked up at Tim. “I thought maybe we could all see each other here again and…” Emile sighed. From the beginning he had all the doubt in his mind that he’d never meet these two again, but he didn’t want to give up trying.
Tim chuckled at him, making Emile feel even more embarrassed. “Nothin’ wrong with wanting to see someone, but if he doesn’t want to open up, then he’s not going to…” Tim sighed, “It’s a shame though, I really wanted to talk to him too…” Emile looked up at him and smiled.
“Well, we could hang out…?” he said with a hopeful voice. If Jon wouldn’t let them in the bar, they could always go somewhere else. It was his loss. There was no reason they shouldn’t get to have fun just because Jon was being a part pooper.
Smiling, Tim nodded, “Although…” he began to stroke his chin, “I am a little worried about Jon. He hasn’t come out of there in quite some time. I wonder if he’s okay…” Emile glanced at the door, not sure what to do. He was somewhat worried about Jon, but it was the guy’s own fault for not opening the door.
“You don’t think something’s happening to him, do you?” Emile suddenly blurted out. He hoped he was wrong and Jon was just being moody, but if something did happen he might need help.
Thinking for a moment, Tim went and knocked lightly on the door. “Jon? Are you okay in there?” In response, there was a muffled ‘go away’ but other than that there was nothing. “He sounds fine,” Tim stated.
“Yeah…” Emile sighed. He was somewhat relieved but also somewhat angry. If Jon was ‘fine’, why was he shutting himself away? And why was it ever since they had met? He couldn’t help but feel it was his fault somehow. Jon didn’t seem to like him much.
“Chin up, kid,” Tim said to him suddenly. Emile hadn’t even realised he had been frowning, “C’mon, I know how we can get him to open up.”
Perplexed, Emile followed Tim through an alley next to the bar. Then right to the back of the building. Hidden between piles of barrels was a door. “How did you know this was here?” Emile stared at the door, “And how is this gonna make him open up?”
“Don’t worry, he’ll open if we knock here. Not a lot of people seem to know about this door. Except the milkman I saw the other day, that is.” Tim proceeded to knock on the door.
Emile almost laughed. Who knew Tim could be so sneaky? There was some sort of complaint from the other side of the door and then the sound of a lock unlatching. Emile gave Jon a big smile when he opened the door, to which Jon replied with slamming the door in their faces. Emile jumped when he did so and tried to open the door. He pushed on the door, but Jon seemed to be pushing back. “That was really rude, you know!”
“And you trying to get into my house isn’t?” Jon yelled. He had a point, but Emile didn’t care.
“We’re just worried about you!”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Then why do you look so terrible?!” Emile huffed, moving away form the door. The more he thought about the split second he saw Jon, the worse he realised Jon looked. His hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Or maybe that he had too much sleep. “Seriously, if there’s something wrong you can talk about it to us. We just want to help.”
Suddenly, there was no more resistance on the door and Emile caused it to swing open. He fell to the floor, but stood up quickly. “What’s your problem?” he said as he got up. Jon faced away from him and didn’t even turn to look at him. Feeling somewhat angry, Emile walked over to him and forced him to turn around.
Jon look angry for only a split second before looking surprised. Coldly, he pushed Emile’s hand away and turned around again. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Get out.” Emile felt hurt. He was just trying to help, but Jon didn’t seem to want help.
“Do you want to be alone forever, or what?” he said without thinking, “I used to look up to you, but now you’re just a-” He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Tim shaking his head and giving him a stern look.
“Sorry Jon,” Tim said. “Sorry for comin’ in like this. We’ll leave now.”
“But-” Emile began but immediately stopped once Tim gave him another look. Tim dragged Emile out of there, shutting the door behind them.
“We really oughta leave him alone.” Tim said once they were a fair distance from Jon’s place, “He’s having a rough time with something, and while I agree it would be better for him to talk about it, we shouldn’t push him.”
“If he’s feeling down he could at least let us try to cheer him up. And if he doesn’t want to talk he could say it nicely…” Emile frowned, looking at the ground. He knew he was being stupid, but Jon was being stupid too.
“It’s his life. We barely know anything about him. Besides…” Tim began walking away from Emile, “You oughta get home before your mother starts to worry.”
Emile looked at him with a confused face, but then saw that the sun was setting. He got in trouble for not coming home until late the other day and he really didn’t want that to happen again. He said good-bye to Tim and rushed home. All the way, he wondered if Jon would ever open up to them.
Tim's POV
Hands stuffed into his pockets, Tim walked down the familiar streets. No matter how many times he walked through them, there was something interesting to look at. Or something interesting to hear. On this particular day, there was a familiar voice to hear.
“Put me down, Lucah!” Tim chuckled when he heard them. Not far away he found Lucah spinning Josh around, laughing like a mad woman.
“Come now, Lucah, aren’t you a bit too old to be playing with boys?” Tim asked, standing to the side and watching the two.
“Never,” Lucah replied as she put Josh down. She grinned at Tim, “Wha’cha doing here, anyway?”
“Nothin’ much, just looking around.” Tim smiled as he watched Josh wobble around in his dizzy state until he eventually leant on a wall.
“I think I’m gonna be sick…” Josh said, muffled by the sound of his hand over his mouth. Lucah went over to him and ruffled his hair.
“You’ll be fine. It’s not like this isn’t your first time being spun around.” She laughed at him as he glared at her. Tim laughed as well. Their energy was the reason he liked to be around them. He liked to be around people who were happy. It’s what made him so happy all the time.
Josh pouted at Lucah, but ignored her and turned to Tim. “So… I heard you met Chugga the other day.” Tim stared at the boy in confusion. He had no idea who that was, how could he have met him. “Sorry, Emile.”
“Huh?” Tim looked at him with even more confusion, “How’d you-”
“Me and Chugga-er, Emile- work together sometimes,” Josh grinned. “He was late for work on Friday, and I heard the boss yelling at him.” He laughed at it as though his coworker getting in trouble was some funny joke. “I asked him about it later and he said he’d met you. I was a little surprised… he’s kind of crazy when it comes to his obsession with wanting to be a sportscaster like you.” Josh shuffled his feet, “So sorry if he annoyed you or something…”
Tim laugh and ruffled the boy’s hair, “It was fine. He certainly has a lot of energy though.”
“That good, then.” Josh grinned, “I still think he’s annoying sometime though.”
“He probably thinks the same thing about you,” Lucah interjected from the side, “Anyway, we should get going,” turning to Tim she began to explain as she pointed at Josh with her thumb, “His mother had me go pick him up because he apparently didn’t get home until late last night.”
“Mom’s just a worry wart.” Josh frowned, “I wasn’t doing anything.” Lucah gave him a skeptical look and Josh glared at her. “I was just hanging out with Tyler.”
Lucah stifled a laugh, “Oh, of course. No wonder you’re mother is worried about you. Spending late nights with Tyler isn’t something I’d want my child doing either.” Josh merely laughed wryly while Tim laughed a little nervously. “Well, time to go home. Come on, Josh.”
Shoulders sinking, Josh followed Lucah as they wandered off together. Tim stood and watched them walk away for a bit. As he turned around and began to walk down the street, he noticed another familiar face.
Emile seemed to be trying to get into Jon’s bar. It must have been closed again that day. That was a little strange. It had been closed for a few days straight now. Tim vaguely wondered if Jon was perhaps sick.
He jumped a bit when Emile started pounding on the door and demanding to be let in. Tim sighed, rushing over to him and grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “Don’cha think that’s enough?”
Wheeling around, Emile stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Mr. Bishop.” Tim winced at being called that.
“No need to be so stiff.” Tim smiled, trying to make Emile relax a bit, “‘Tim’ is just fine.” Letting go of the boy, he turned toward the door, “So wha’cha think you’re doing making so much noise around here?” He could’ve guessed that Emile just wanted to know what was up with Jon. He wanted to know too, but that didn’t excuse the way he was going about it.
Emile didn’t seem to be relaxed at all. He only seemed to be able to stutter out, “W-well, I was just…” For a few moment, Tim wondered if he was going to continue that line of thought or not. He opened his mouth to ask when Emile suddenly continue, “I just wanted to uh…” he seemed embarrassed about what he was saying, “see Jon again. A-and you, too. I thought maybe we could all see each other here again and…” he sighed, seemingly not knowing what else to say.
“Nothin’ wrong with wanting to see someone, but if he doesn’t want to open up, then he’s not going to…” Tim sighed, “It’s a shame though, I really wanted to talk to him too…” He looked at the door, feeling a little sad. Maybe a little worried as well. He hoped Jon was okay. Though he had a feeling he wasn’t.
“Well,” Emile began, causing Tim to look at him, hoping he would quell his worries about Jon, “we could hang out…?” he looked hopefully at him. Tim smiled a bit, but that really didn’t help the bad feeling he had. Despite that, he nodded at Emile. He’d love to hang out.
Stroking his chin, he said, “Although, I am a little worried about Jon. He hasn’t come out of there in quite some time. I wonder if he’s okay…” He knew there wasn’t much they could do if Jon refused to open the door, but the pit in his stomach told him they needed to at least try. And by that, he didn’t mean Emile’s definition of trying.
Emile sounded just as worried as Tim felt, “You don’t think something’s happened to him, do you?” Tim had to wonder. He really hoped he was wrong and went to knock on the door. He made sure to do it lighter than Emile had-much lighter-so that Jon wouldn’t be disturbed if he were maybe sleeping.
“Jon?” he said to the door, “Are you okay in there?”
“Go away!” was all the came from the other side of the door. Well, at least that meant he was probably okay. But there was still that terrible feeling that something wasn’t right.
“He sounds fine,” Tim said, adding in his mind, ‘Even if that’s all that it is. At least it’s something.” Looking over at Emile, the boy seemed to be saddened by Jon’s response. Tim sighed, yet smiled, “Chin up, kid. C’mon, I know how we can get him to open up.” He’d remembered seeing a door in the back of the building when he had gone for a walk through the streets the other day. The other person he’d ever seen knock on it was the milkman, so he assumed it was a more private door. He led Emile to it, walking in the side alley and behind the building.
“How did you know this was here?” Emile stared at the door, “And how is this gonna make him open up?” He sounded genuinely confused, which amused Tim. He explained to him how he’d found the door in the first place and assured him that if there was going to be a way to get Jon to open up, this was it. Tim walked up to the door and knocked on it. He watched Emile more than the door. He was somewhat afraid the boy would do something rash when Jon opened the door.
What he hadn’t expected, though, was that Jon would open the door, take one look at Emile, and then slam it closed. The sound of the door shutting that quickly made him jump. He tried to react before Emile did, but it was already too late by the time he even thought of doing so. Tim listened to the door yell at each other for far too long. “Guys!” he tried, but it didn’t seem that either of them heard him. He didn’t blame them considering how much they were yelling at each other. Sighing and putting his face in his hands, he gave up until Jon finally opened the door. Or rather, let go of it so Emile would fall on his face. Tim had to admit that he sort of deserved that for what he had been doing.
Of course, the yelling didn’t stop there, “What’s your problem?!” Emile began again as soon as he picked himself up off the floor. He stomped over to Jon and forced him around. Tim wished they could all just calm down and talk about this, but it didn’t’ seem that was likely to happen.
For a moment, though, when Jon first looked at Emile, he looked almost apologetic. Like he thought this was entirely his own fault. It wasn’t, of course, and Tim couldn’t imagine why Jon would feel that way. It must’ve been his imagination. Right as soon as he’d been turned around to face his two new guests, he shoved Emile away and turn to his previous direction.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
That was a little harsh, Tim felt. But there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it, “Honestly, you two, you’re bickering like a married couple,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. They didn’t seem to hear that comment, probably because Tim said it rather quietly.
Emile didn’t seem to be done yelling yet, much to Tim’s dismay. “Do you want to be alone forever, or what?” looking at the boy wide-eyed, Tim couldn’t believe he’d actually said that. “I used to look up to you, but now you’re just a-” Tim put a hand on his shoulder to stop him before he said something he’d regret. Though, it was probably already too late for that.
“Sorry Jon,” Tim apologised more for Emile than himself, putting his other hand on Jon’s shoulder to make sure he was listening, “Sorry for comin’ in like this,” he gripped Emile’s shirt tighter, fully prepared to drag him out if he protested at all. “We’ll leave now.”
“But-” Emile tried, but Tim gave him an angry look and pulled him out of there.
“You really oughta leave him alone.” He said one they were far enough away from the building. “He’s having a rough time with something, and while I agree it would be better for him to talk about it, we shouldn’t push him.” The last thing he wanted to do was to anger someone. Though in this case it seemed he didn’t have a choice. Either Jon would be angry, or Emile would be angry. And considering Emile was just a kid, Tim cared less if he got mad at him.
“If he’s feeling down he could at least let us try to cheer him up. And if he doesn’t want to talk he could say it nicely…”
Tim sighed; despite his appearance Emile was definitely still a kid on the inside. He whined like one and still had a mostly perfect view of the world. But he was hot-blooded at the same time. Not a good combination. “It’s his life. We barely know anything about him. Besides,” ‘I don’t’ blame him for not wanting to talk to me…’ He wasn’t about to say that out loud, but it was how he felt. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk away, “You oughta get home before your mother starts to worry,” he said instead. Emile was quiet for a moment before making a gasping noise and saying a quick good-bye. Tim waved good-bye to him and continued down the street. Just because the kid needed to get home didn’t mean he had to.
What am I even doing anymore I don't even.