Mood: Wicked Games by The Weeknd
"So... you're serious?" Sean asked after sitting there in silence for several minutes.
"Yes Sean. I'm Serious." Angela said, her voice nervous and hands fidgety.
"So, who is he?" Sean's question was framed in a calm and almost detached manner. While there was part of him that raged against the words she had spoken, he had shoved it into a corner of his brain, keeping mental guard against letting it out.
"What do you mean wh--" Angela started, her eyes wide. Sean interrupted her.
"Don't bullshit me, Angela. The only time women suggest an open relationship is in three circumstances. The first is when they want to cheat, the second is if they are already cheating, or the third is if they are bored in the relationship but are too lazy or scared to stand independent in divorce."
He could see Angela swallow hard, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times before finally remaining close. Someone who witnessed this would think that Sean was on the edge of exploding in violence of some sort. However, Angela knew what this was, and she hated it. Sean was attacking the problem with logic. His form of logic, but logic nonetheless.
"So, there is someone, but you're afraid I'll kick his ass. Is that it?" He asked in that detached, gravelly baritone. He reached over and grabbed hold of his pack of Newports, pulling a cigarette and sticking it between his lips before lighting it with the zippo. Taking a drag from the smoke, before exhaling it.
"Well?"
Angela could only give a single nod of her head to his question. She knew what was coming. You could see it in her face. She knew how Sean thought, and when he stood, she immediately started crying. "Please Sh-" She croaked out. However, she was again interrupted.
"Ok. I agree. You've got what you asked for." He towered over her at his 6'4" height. Her height had peaked at a foot less than him, and he was easily two of her at 250. While he wasn't cut, he was solid. His looks belied the intelligence that he had, as well as his tender nature.
His words though. They weren't loud and angry. They were soft, firm and disappointed. It's why everyone called him Dad. He then walked out of his office, made his way toward the door, and after a few moments, disappeared into the night behind the wheel of his Monte Carlo SS.
***
Sean and his cohort gathered at The Jukebox, a local haunt known for its mix of country and hip-hop tunes. They were there to commemorate their recent college graduation, a moment to relax and applaud their achievements.
In their midst, Eric, Keith, Phillip, and Jason each had their distinct quirks. Eric, with his slight frame and thick glasses. Keith, towering and somewhat awkward. Phillip, a bit on the heavier side but with a friendly demeanor. And Jason, well, just your average guy with a hint of eccentricity.
But tonight wasn't merely about merrymaking. For Sean, there was an underlying sorrow, a desire to escape thoughts of Sarah. Thus, he rallied his friends, suggesting they celebrate their academic feats. Despite their varied majors--ranging from writing to mathematics to business management and graphic design--they had formed tight bonds during their college years. Their standout achievement, a collaborative video game project, showcased their collective talents.
However, Sean's recent breakup cast a pall over the festivities, tempering his enthusiasm despite the energy that surrounded them. Conversation had died after an hour, baskets of hot wings, and a couple of pints of beer. It was Jason that finally said something.
"Look, dude. We know why we're here. You and Sarah." Leave it to Jason to just blurt it out. The others started looking uncomfortable, but they nodded their agreement.
"Yeah. You're kind of not hitting your targets." Phillip the business manager said. "You're about a week or two behind schedule, and you know how tight this is. We have a limited budget and need to show clear progress each time the investors call us in, or else our funding is cut."
"I mean, I was ahead by a few weeks because I have to be." Eric spoke up after taking a sip of liquid courage. "But with you dragging behind, I've decided to start making money for the business by doing commission work for other devs."
"And I've been balancing systems to such a fine point that I've started bugging Eric about hitbox precision." Keith put in. "So that they can be as accurate as possible, you know. Without blowing up people's potato level computers."
Sean sort of sat there quietly, eying all of them before speaking. "Ok. So, what do you want?"
"We want you to get laid, and forget about the bitch." Jason said as he signaled for another beer. "I mean, I know you caught her talking to some guy, but they hadn't fucked yet. So, that's a plus."
"Sort of." Sean replied.
"Besides, we all knew Sarah was a hoe. Even you." Phillip put in. "Hell, you were hoeing when you met her."
