Trois
Title: Things We Said Today (Pt. 3)
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Making new connections
All of Zeke’s money was going to disappear into these fucking pizzas; fuck all if the slice he was devouring wasn’t THE best he’d ever had. The box lie open next to him on the couch as he watched television, tired and strung out from that day’s work. So far, every box had been unpacked and everything put in their respective places (sort of) and he’d marked his new calendar with the date of Columbia’s open house and registration day. Still didn’t know what he wanted to do, but he would, soon.
His belly full and hunger gone, Zeke took his feet off the table and grabbed up his new atlas. Fuck, where to start? ‘May as well familiarize myself,’ he thought to himself, flipping through the many pages showing anything he’d ever want to know about New York City, all the boroughs… Finally he reached what he was searching for under “Nassau County”.
Crap. That was a big county, and his only lead. After the phone call from Casey came, Zeke called anyone who Casey might have tried to reach as well. The only one who knew anything was Delilah, and she didn’t know much. “All he said was that things fell apart in Nassau, where he’s staying. Wondered if I’d heard from you, actually,” she’d said, sighing heavily. Casey had been wrong about his suspicions with her; though she was bitter and annoyed when she was finally told about his new relationship out in New York, she didn’t do anything spiteful. “Some rich fuck he’s seeing,” she said, sounding disgusted.
Since it’d been clear Casey was at a payphone, there was no way for Zeke to know how to reach him. It was frustrating; especially that Zeke was now this close. No matter how many times he inspected this map, there wouldn’t be some little marker on a street marking Casey’s presence there. There should have been, because Zeke was more than frustrated, had been for a while now. Even if he knew which TOWN in the county he lived in, what the hell would that do? Nothing.
Zeke ran his fingers through his hair, pulling lightly and sighing. He knew he was growing obsessed, but couldn’t help it. His eyes felt heavy now, and he figured on just getting to bed; he’d do his best to rest then begin his search when he was refreshed the next day.
It was by pure accident that Zeke had chosen an apartment so damned CLOSE to Casey’s old college. New York University was practically next-door without him knowing it until he looked in a tourist map he’d picked up; the department Casey went through, the Courant-Institute Math Library was even closer.
Zeke took the short walk in minutes, getting to the block where the housing offices were located. He had no real idea on what he was going to say or do, but perhaps he’s find some small gem of info there. He got to the building and hopped up the steps, taking a deep breath as he opened the door.
Good God, he could already see why Casey was as disappointed as he was in having to go through with his parents wishes. Zeke swore he’d be dreaming of numbers in just looking to his left, seeing a complicated math problem done on a large mural taller than HE was. The people that crowded the halls and rooms looked blank and devoid of any emotion, glasses perched on many noses shimmering in the dim lit hallway as people passed. Zeke spotted a girl standing still nearby, going through a folder. He cleared his throat as he walked up to her. “Um… hi-“ he started, making her look up at him. “I’m wondering where the main offices here are…”
She pointed to the door behind her, a large label on it reading “Main Office”. Zeke felt incredibly stupid.
Fucking dead ends. “We cannot divulge information like that if you’re not family,” the woman had told him. So basically if they had a huge neon sign with Casey’s current location, they weren’t going to be plugging it in. God damn…
Zeke sat in the pizza shop across the street from his apartment; he had leftovers from this place back home, but he wanted it entirely fresh again. There was going to be a grocery trip soon, but not now. This was all Zeke wanted. He was just about to get up for a refill of cola when his cell phone rang. He grabbed it up and looked, seeing Stan’s name on the caller ID. He smiled and flipped it open.
“Hey,” Zeke said into it.
“Hey there- how’s New York?”
“Boring.”
“Fuck you. Me and Stokes were just wondering if we should go to the Chinese food buffet or take a walk. Fuck… you,”
Zeke had to laugh as he leaned back, patting his filled stomach. “Actually, I’m sitting in the best pizza place I’ve ever been to in my life. Yea, fuck me again, right?” Zeke said quickly, hearing the intake of breath on Stan’s end. Stan laughed as well.
“Man, we gotta plan a trip out there soon, crash at your place,” Stan said. “Was the drive okay?”
“Yea, it went off without a hitch. In fact I think I scared the locals with my driving,”
“That takes talent,”
“You bet,”
“So… any word yet about our ‘little friend’?” Stan asked. Zeke sighed out a groan.
“Nope. Just got back from his old school, actually. They didn’t give me any info, total cul-de-sac there,” he said. “It’s really just too damned impossible to do. New York looks so small on a map then you get here…”
“Yea. I went once with my grandparents out to the Bronx when I was a kid. Crazy shit,” Stan told him. “Well hopefully he’s just… with that guy or whatever,”
Zeke nodded, having to hold back the feeling of dread in that statement alone.
Zeke had been in this city a whole two weeks now, and nothing. Nothing at all, besides choosing the courses he wanted at the seminar he’d gone to. When it came to Casey, he may as well have been on Mars.
Nassau, Manhattan, wherever the kid was, Zeke had stopped looking. It was too fucking impossible, like he’d told Stan. He truly needed to concentrate on the classes he wanted to take, having chosen Earth and Environmental Engineering. It didn’t matter if he had nearly three months to work all of this out. The courses looked heavy, and he needed to collect any information, get any supplies, books… the headache was already hitting him, and it wasn’t even June yet.
It was actually (once again) Casey’s doing that he’d chosen this path. The first week after the attacks, the school was closed and Casey was over everyday, if not outright staying at Zeke’s nearly the entire time. When Zeke confided that he was actually going to try to graduate high enough to get into a two-year program at the local community college, Casey was more than excited. They talked all night about every possibility, Casey hitting some major nerves- in a good way.
“I wanna see your name on a science Nobel Prize, man,” Casey had joked. “With all the shit you got in your garage… we never would have made it out alive without your brain, Zeke,” It made Zeke smile now as he thought about it all.
“Whatever,” Zeke muttered aloud, looking through one of the pamphlets for Columbia. He tried immersing himself into it, not wanting to dwell on memories and ‘impossible possibilities’. There were just many things he needed to accept about all of this, even if he didn’t want to.
The night crept over the city slowly, almost to the point that Zeke didn’t notice until he was squinting at all his reading material to read it. He looked up at the clock and sighed; so far, he hadn’t truly enjoyed his new surroundings, and it was time.
Wednesday nights were pretty easy going in New York; instead of walking like his jeans were on fire, Zeke was able to take a leisurely stroll to one of the bars close by, ‘Off the Wagon’. It was still too early for the place to be really busy, so he found a stool pretty quickly after getting inside. The bartender, a young girl (he swore she was MUCH too young to be working a New York City spot like this) approached him with a wide smile.
“Hey… what’d ya like?”
“Rum and coke, please,” Zeke said, going into his wallet.
“Got some ID?”
Zeke wanted to laugh aloud; he reached for his driver’s license and handed it to her. “I was about to ask for yours,” he joked.
“I’m older than I look, so thank you,” she said, giving him a wink. Looking down at his license her eyebrows rose with interest. “Ohio, huh?”
“Yea. Just moved here, I gotta change that,”
“Aw, a newbie.” She cooed, handing it back. As she began making his drink she continued speaking. “That may be the first Ohio ID I’ve seen in awhile; it doesn’t seem like a traveler’s state,”
“Eh, depends,” Zeke replied, shrugging. A few moments passed before she returned with his drink; he handed her the price and left a five dollar tip, making her smile wider at him. Zeke noticed the pool tables in back and grinned; he loved pool.
Making sure he had enough quarters for a few rounds he got the table ready, placing the rest of his coins on the edge. As he began racking, a young man sauntered over, smiling and nodding to Zeke. “Hey,”
“Hey,” Zeke replied, standing up and arranging the balls accordingly.
“Feel like some competition?” he asked. Zeke smiled a little, seeing is fingers holding a small stack of quarters.
“Sure… better that way anyways,” Zeke told him. The guy nodded, put his change next to Zeke’s and extended his hand.
“Mike,”
“Zeke,” Zeke said, taking Mike’s hand and shaking it. “Well, you break. Gotta see what I’m up against,”
“Corner pocket,”
Mike watched Zeke with interest, leaning over the table slightly as Zeke made his shot. Zeke aimed, slid the pool stick over his knuckle a few times then hit hard. Mike whooped as the eight ball slammed into the correct pocket, cue ball stilling completely where it’d made contact. “Damn, man- you’re pretty damned good. Two out of three, you take it,”
“Thanks,” Zeke said, taking up his beer and sipping.
“You should bet cash,” Mike suggested, making Zeke laugh.
“Naw, I don’t gamble,”
“Hey Mike!”
Zeke turned to where the voice had come from, seeing another guy coming over. “Hey Dustin,” Mike said, grinning. “You managed to get away from the old lady tonight, eh?”
“Ugh… don’t even,” Dustin replied, throwing his jacket onto the chair nearby. He looked to Zeke and smiled. “Hey there,”
“Hi,”
“Dust, this is Zeke. He’s a new guy in the city,” Mike made introductions. Dustin shook Zeke’s hand, nodding.
“Ah, I see then. Please tell me you haven’t made any wagers with this dork- he’s only got three or four tourney trophies here,” Dustin said. Mike laughed aloud.
“Well if he HAD, he woulda cleaned me out,” Mike admitted. “Two out of three, he got me,”
“Whoa! There’s an achievement,” Dustin said, sitting at the table behind him. “I don’t bother trying with him anymore.”
Zeke shook his head, feeling a blush coming on. “Yea whatever… how about the ‘big winner’ buys a round?”
“I’m all for that,” Dustin said.
Zeke opened the door to his apartment, a wide smile on his face. Tonight had been good- more than good, really. He hadn’t been very sure on how he would meet others out here, even with the large population. Right now he had two new numbers on his cell phone; Mike had urged him to actually enter into the next pool tournament coming in less than a week, thrilled that there was a spot still left on his side for Zeke to join. After Dustin had watched a few games between Zeke and Mike, he’d told Zeke his chances of making a name for himself here were pretty good. Zeke had taken it in stride, even if his head was secretly swelling.
He didn’t have a whole lot in common with the two guys he’d just befriended; Dustin was married and working as a high school teacher in Brooklyn, while Mike was still living with his parents and working at a small bike shop on W. 102nd street. They’d both been born and raised in New York, even if Dustin was from upstate. They had connections while Zeke was barely making new ones. Still, they’d been genuinely interested in where Zeke had come from, what he liked, everything. When Mike asked the question, “What brought you out here anyways?”, Zeke was hesitant to answer. He went with Columbia, and that it worked out since he DID have a friend out in the city he was trying to get back in touch with. He didn’t bother asking if they knew Casey, seeing as it’d have to be impossible… yet again. If this were Herrington they’d know exactly who he was as the stardom hadn’t entirely faded from the Connor name. People would even pretend to know Casey, at least a year ago. Zeke had had his share of pictures in magazines as well, and these two hadn’t even glanced twice at him. It made things easier, Zeke surmised.
As he slid his boots off and lay back on the couch, he blinked in confusion. How far HAD the news gotten, and how did it stick? If Zeke were to point out who he was, what kind of recognition would he get from people here, if at all? If they recognized him, they would have to get who Casey was. Zeke wondered if this supposed boyfriend of Casey’s knew. He had to have.
It wasn’t long before his inebriated brain shut down for the night, not registering anything else except the slight feeling of comfort in the night’s events.
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Making new connections
All of Zeke’s money was going to disappear into these fucking pizzas; fuck all if the slice he was devouring wasn’t THE best he’d ever had. The box lie open next to him on the couch as he watched television, tired and strung out from that day’s work. So far, every box had been unpacked and everything put in their respective places (sort of) and he’d marked his new calendar with the date of Columbia’s open house and registration day. Still didn’t know what he wanted to do, but he would, soon.
His belly full and hunger gone, Zeke took his feet off the table and grabbed up his new atlas. Fuck, where to start? ‘May as well familiarize myself,’ he thought to himself, flipping through the many pages showing anything he’d ever want to know about New York City, all the boroughs… Finally he reached what he was searching for under “Nassau County”.
Crap. That was a big county, and his only lead. After the phone call from Casey came, Zeke called anyone who Casey might have tried to reach as well. The only one who knew anything was Delilah, and she didn’t know much. “All he said was that things fell apart in Nassau, where he’s staying. Wondered if I’d heard from you, actually,” she’d said, sighing heavily. Casey had been wrong about his suspicions with her; though she was bitter and annoyed when she was finally told about his new relationship out in New York, she didn’t do anything spiteful. “Some rich fuck he’s seeing,” she said, sounding disgusted.
Since it’d been clear Casey was at a payphone, there was no way for Zeke to know how to reach him. It was frustrating; especially that Zeke was now this close. No matter how many times he inspected this map, there wouldn’t be some little marker on a street marking Casey’s presence there. There should have been, because Zeke was more than frustrated, had been for a while now. Even if he knew which TOWN in the county he lived in, what the hell would that do? Nothing.
Zeke ran his fingers through his hair, pulling lightly and sighing. He knew he was growing obsessed, but couldn’t help it. His eyes felt heavy now, and he figured on just getting to bed; he’d do his best to rest then begin his search when he was refreshed the next day.
It was by pure accident that Zeke had chosen an apartment so damned CLOSE to Casey’s old college. New York University was practically next-door without him knowing it until he looked in a tourist map he’d picked up; the department Casey went through, the Courant-Institute Math Library was even closer.
Zeke took the short walk in minutes, getting to the block where the housing offices were located. He had no real idea on what he was going to say or do, but perhaps he’s find some small gem of info there. He got to the building and hopped up the steps, taking a deep breath as he opened the door.
Good God, he could already see why Casey was as disappointed as he was in having to go through with his parents wishes. Zeke swore he’d be dreaming of numbers in just looking to his left, seeing a complicated math problem done on a large mural taller than HE was. The people that crowded the halls and rooms looked blank and devoid of any emotion, glasses perched on many noses shimmering in the dim lit hallway as people passed. Zeke spotted a girl standing still nearby, going through a folder. He cleared his throat as he walked up to her. “Um… hi-“ he started, making her look up at him. “I’m wondering where the main offices here are…”
She pointed to the door behind her, a large label on it reading “Main Office”. Zeke felt incredibly stupid.
Fucking dead ends. “We cannot divulge information like that if you’re not family,” the woman had told him. So basically if they had a huge neon sign with Casey’s current location, they weren’t going to be plugging it in. God damn…
Zeke sat in the pizza shop across the street from his apartment; he had leftovers from this place back home, but he wanted it entirely fresh again. There was going to be a grocery trip soon, but not now. This was all Zeke wanted. He was just about to get up for a refill of cola when his cell phone rang. He grabbed it up and looked, seeing Stan’s name on the caller ID. He smiled and flipped it open.
“Hey,” Zeke said into it.
“Hey there- how’s New York?”
“Boring.”
“Fuck you. Me and Stokes were just wondering if we should go to the Chinese food buffet or take a walk. Fuck… you,”
Zeke had to laugh as he leaned back, patting his filled stomach. “Actually, I’m sitting in the best pizza place I’ve ever been to in my life. Yea, fuck me again, right?” Zeke said quickly, hearing the intake of breath on Stan’s end. Stan laughed as well.
“Man, we gotta plan a trip out there soon, crash at your place,” Stan said. “Was the drive okay?”
“Yea, it went off without a hitch. In fact I think I scared the locals with my driving,”
“That takes talent,”
“You bet,”
“So… any word yet about our ‘little friend’?” Stan asked. Zeke sighed out a groan.
“Nope. Just got back from his old school, actually. They didn’t give me any info, total cul-de-sac there,” he said. “It’s really just too damned impossible to do. New York looks so small on a map then you get here…”
“Yea. I went once with my grandparents out to the Bronx when I was a kid. Crazy shit,” Stan told him. “Well hopefully he’s just… with that guy or whatever,”
Zeke nodded, having to hold back the feeling of dread in that statement alone.
Zeke had been in this city a whole two weeks now, and nothing. Nothing at all, besides choosing the courses he wanted at the seminar he’d gone to. When it came to Casey, he may as well have been on Mars.
Nassau, Manhattan, wherever the kid was, Zeke had stopped looking. It was too fucking impossible, like he’d told Stan. He truly needed to concentrate on the classes he wanted to take, having chosen Earth and Environmental Engineering. It didn’t matter if he had nearly three months to work all of this out. The courses looked heavy, and he needed to collect any information, get any supplies, books… the headache was already hitting him, and it wasn’t even June yet.
It was actually (once again) Casey’s doing that he’d chosen this path. The first week after the attacks, the school was closed and Casey was over everyday, if not outright staying at Zeke’s nearly the entire time. When Zeke confided that he was actually going to try to graduate high enough to get into a two-year program at the local community college, Casey was more than excited. They talked all night about every possibility, Casey hitting some major nerves- in a good way.
“I wanna see your name on a science Nobel Prize, man,” Casey had joked. “With all the shit you got in your garage… we never would have made it out alive without your brain, Zeke,” It made Zeke smile now as he thought about it all.
“Whatever,” Zeke muttered aloud, looking through one of the pamphlets for Columbia. He tried immersing himself into it, not wanting to dwell on memories and ‘impossible possibilities’. There were just many things he needed to accept about all of this, even if he didn’t want to.
The night crept over the city slowly, almost to the point that Zeke didn’t notice until he was squinting at all his reading material to read it. He looked up at the clock and sighed; so far, he hadn’t truly enjoyed his new surroundings, and it was time.
Wednesday nights were pretty easy going in New York; instead of walking like his jeans were on fire, Zeke was able to take a leisurely stroll to one of the bars close by, ‘Off the Wagon’. It was still too early for the place to be really busy, so he found a stool pretty quickly after getting inside. The bartender, a young girl (he swore she was MUCH too young to be working a New York City spot like this) approached him with a wide smile.
“Hey… what’d ya like?”
“Rum and coke, please,” Zeke said, going into his wallet.
“Got some ID?”
Zeke wanted to laugh aloud; he reached for his driver’s license and handed it to her. “I was about to ask for yours,” he joked.
“I’m older than I look, so thank you,” she said, giving him a wink. Looking down at his license her eyebrows rose with interest. “Ohio, huh?”
“Yea. Just moved here, I gotta change that,”
“Aw, a newbie.” She cooed, handing it back. As she began making his drink she continued speaking. “That may be the first Ohio ID I’ve seen in awhile; it doesn’t seem like a traveler’s state,”
“Eh, depends,” Zeke replied, shrugging. A few moments passed before she returned with his drink; he handed her the price and left a five dollar tip, making her smile wider at him. Zeke noticed the pool tables in back and grinned; he loved pool.
Making sure he had enough quarters for a few rounds he got the table ready, placing the rest of his coins on the edge. As he began racking, a young man sauntered over, smiling and nodding to Zeke. “Hey,”
“Hey,” Zeke replied, standing up and arranging the balls accordingly.
“Feel like some competition?” he asked. Zeke smiled a little, seeing is fingers holding a small stack of quarters.
“Sure… better that way anyways,” Zeke told him. The guy nodded, put his change next to Zeke’s and extended his hand.
“Mike,”
“Zeke,” Zeke said, taking Mike’s hand and shaking it. “Well, you break. Gotta see what I’m up against,”
“Corner pocket,”
Mike watched Zeke with interest, leaning over the table slightly as Zeke made his shot. Zeke aimed, slid the pool stick over his knuckle a few times then hit hard. Mike whooped as the eight ball slammed into the correct pocket, cue ball stilling completely where it’d made contact. “Damn, man- you’re pretty damned good. Two out of three, you take it,”
“Thanks,” Zeke said, taking up his beer and sipping.
“You should bet cash,” Mike suggested, making Zeke laugh.
“Naw, I don’t gamble,”
“Hey Mike!”
Zeke turned to where the voice had come from, seeing another guy coming over. “Hey Dustin,” Mike said, grinning. “You managed to get away from the old lady tonight, eh?”
“Ugh… don’t even,” Dustin replied, throwing his jacket onto the chair nearby. He looked to Zeke and smiled. “Hey there,”
“Hi,”
“Dust, this is Zeke. He’s a new guy in the city,” Mike made introductions. Dustin shook Zeke’s hand, nodding.
“Ah, I see then. Please tell me you haven’t made any wagers with this dork- he’s only got three or four tourney trophies here,” Dustin said. Mike laughed aloud.
“Well if he HAD, he woulda cleaned me out,” Mike admitted. “Two out of three, he got me,”
“Whoa! There’s an achievement,” Dustin said, sitting at the table behind him. “I don’t bother trying with him anymore.”
Zeke shook his head, feeling a blush coming on. “Yea whatever… how about the ‘big winner’ buys a round?”
“I’m all for that,” Dustin said.
Zeke opened the door to his apartment, a wide smile on his face. Tonight had been good- more than good, really. He hadn’t been very sure on how he would meet others out here, even with the large population. Right now he had two new numbers on his cell phone; Mike had urged him to actually enter into the next pool tournament coming in less than a week, thrilled that there was a spot still left on his side for Zeke to join. After Dustin had watched a few games between Zeke and Mike, he’d told Zeke his chances of making a name for himself here were pretty good. Zeke had taken it in stride, even if his head was secretly swelling.
He didn’t have a whole lot in common with the two guys he’d just befriended; Dustin was married and working as a high school teacher in Brooklyn, while Mike was still living with his parents and working at a small bike shop on W. 102nd street. They’d both been born and raised in New York, even if Dustin was from upstate. They had connections while Zeke was barely making new ones. Still, they’d been genuinely interested in where Zeke had come from, what he liked, everything. When Mike asked the question, “What brought you out here anyways?”, Zeke was hesitant to answer. He went with Columbia, and that it worked out since he DID have a friend out in the city he was trying to get back in touch with. He didn’t bother asking if they knew Casey, seeing as it’d have to be impossible… yet again. If this were Herrington they’d know exactly who he was as the stardom hadn’t entirely faded from the Connor name. People would even pretend to know Casey, at least a year ago. Zeke had had his share of pictures in magazines as well, and these two hadn’t even glanced twice at him. It made things easier, Zeke surmised.
As he slid his boots off and lay back on the couch, he blinked in confusion. How far HAD the news gotten, and how did it stick? If Zeke were to point out who he was, what kind of recognition would he get from people here, if at all? If they recognized him, they would have to get who Casey was. Zeke wondered if this supposed boyfriend of Casey’s knew. He had to have.
It wasn’t long before his inebriated brain shut down for the night, not registering anything else except the slight feeling of comfort in the night’s events.