Brian’s POV

I had the best seat in the house to realize how fucked we both were.

I was sitting at the very end of the counter, swirling the ice in my glass, occasionally gracing Riley with a glance. It wasn’t a secret that she hadn’t been actually sober when I pulled up to her house, so a couple Laphroaig doubles in and she was already boosting her head. At least she had a good taste not that it mattered.

The glass raised to my lips as I downed the contents in one, chewing on the piece of ice as I motioned to Johnny for a refill. My eyes fixed on Riley’s pink nape. I kept thinking about all the what if’s. Why? Because Saint and Matt were somewhere in the back playing pool and I was bored beyond limits. Also I liked to ponder the thought of all the different choices and possible outcomes of my life. A... little wonder.

This pink haired girl for example... I strongly believed that in an alternate universe I had happily married her twenty years ago... or in a different alternate universe she was the Synyster Gates of my life. The qualities of being me definitely was there, the difference between us was that she was afraid to do what she actually wanted. As for me? I was too old to worry about hurting someone’s feelings. I tried to be the nice guy, I tried pleasing everyone, but the feeling, honestly, was disgusting. So here I am, a forty year old divorcee, looking at my ex as she’s talking to another one of my exes. I had absolutely no idea how did they both meet, but hey, she’s one of those exes I could still call at two in the morning and she won’t send me completely to Hell. Just a tiny bit. But then again, we were best friends quite some time before we started dating. Meg had always been a cool chick and now she apparently was an even more cooler mom and wife.

I managed to have a little chat while we were smoking outside and turned out she married that British actor... the guy from Sons of Anarchy, Charlie something and they both have a daughter now. Nina. She’s a bit older than Rosie. I remembered me and Meg tried to have a kid for quite some time, I guess it was never meant to be.

I couldn’t quite shake the thought away... I was like some shitty gateway drug to something bigger and better. Look at Michelle, robbed me off my money and now living happily with some business guy, Meg here happily married to a lousy British actor, Jennifer – boning everyone who can aid her in her adventure towards the stars, so what was Riley’s problem? Where was her one and only?

I was forcefully pulled out of my thoughts when the tattooed drunk – Riley Vex – stumbled in me. I was sitting perfectly still in the furthest corner, wasn’t bothering nobody, wasn’t being an ass for once, but then comes Riley, who bumps straight into my elbow as I raise it to take a sip. The result of it? My Laphroaig spilled all over me.

„I’m... I’m sorry,” Her hand reached to cup the side of her head as she tried to steady herself. „Didn’t see you there...”

I took a sharp breath feeling the coldness of those ice cubes pressing against my skin through the thin fabric of my shirt. „Shit...” I mumbled, raising my head to catch Johnny, „Hey, John, can I get a paper towel or something?”

„Oh hell, did I make you spill that drink all over your white shirt?” She chuckled, leaning against the side of the counter just as Johnny handed me quite the amount of paper towels. „Here, let’s add some color,” At that moment I was too deep in the process of drying myself off too realize Riley had picked up that bright pink drink which had been abandoned right next to my glass and she simply poured it all over my shirt.

I jumped off the stool in less than a second, staring at her as she giggled her sobriety away, „Riley... What the fuck?”

„White is not your color,” She snickered, waving me off. „I made it better...”

„It’s John Varvatos, Clarke!” I exclaimed, before I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The fucking shirt cost more than three hundred fucking bucks. Okay, I wouldn’t be mad if she’d done it on accident, which she did with my drink by the way, but taking another drink and spilling it all over my shirt on purpose? That’s messed up.

Right now I looked like the asshole who didn’t know how to separate clothes before putting them in the washer or another option- a girl who was on her period had pissed all over my chest. Pick your poison.

„Oh come on, who ate your Cheerios this morning?” She snickered. This wasn’t like her – she was the responsible adult. As far as I remember she didn’t even particularly like getting drunk, so what made her go on this intoxicating substance madness tonight? Had she really thought Rosie meant what she said? She was a kid, a spoiled one in fact, but hey, guess who she got it from. You’re fucking right – her mother.

„This is not funny, Clarke...”

„It’s a metaphor,” She said sternly, fixing her eyes on me, suddenly seeming way too sober.

„A... metaphor?”

„Yeah, a metaphor,” She repeated, stumbling back, before she regained her balance. „No matter how you try, that shirt will never be the way it was. Food for thought, Haner.” And just like that she turned around and walked her groggy walk towards the exit.

I... I was left speechless. Was she talking about us? About our relationship or was she pointing out to some cosmic thought all that hard liquor had inebriated her with? This honestly wasn’t the time nor the place to try and follow her trail of thought.

„Pink looks good on you,” A familiar female voice sneaked up on me. As I raised my head I saw the petite blond standing in front of me with a cigarette lingering from her lips. Her fingers freed her lips from the coffin nail so she could shoot that jager she had been warming up in her hand.

„You too?” I arched my eyebrow, leaving the used paper towels on the counter next to my empty glass. This moment seemed as good as any to ditch this party. I honestly didn’t even know what I was doing here.

„Hey, I’m just stating the obvious.” Meg’s hands shot up in defense after she had left her empty shot glass on the counter. „Compliments your douchy personality.”

A surprised laugh fell over my lips. „Oh come on, what did I ever do to you?”

„Besides the obvious?” She looked over her shoulder back at me as we both walked towards the exit.

„If it wasn’t for me, you’d have never married a guy who actually treats you well,” I pulled my own pack of cigarettes along with the keys of my car from my pocket right when we stepped out of the bar.

Her eyebrow twitched as she snorted, lighting up her cigarette. „So you’ve realized your mission in life, huh...” Meg laughed as she blew out a thick cloud of smoke, passing the lighter to me.

„I’m forty... I have two disasters that I don’t even want to consider ‘marriages’ in my account...” I took a quick drag of the nicotine filled smoke, before I continued, „Every guy my ex’s meet right after me seems to be the love of their lives, so, please, tell me how I’m not this gateway drug.”

„Gateway drug...” She laughed, „Well... I can’t, ‘cause the term is pretty damn fitting.” The cigarette raised to her lips as she watched me curiously. „You are exactly the person you describe yourself to be. You’re a jerk, a complete asshole, but, Brian, trust me when I say this, you’re the sweetest guy I know. Of course if you want to be.”

„But I don’t, there’s the thing,” My eyes dropped to the little flame at the end of my smoke as I knocked off the excess ash, forcing it to light up.

„Yeah, believe it or not, but I can, in fact see that. I’m not fucking blind.” She smirked, throwing away the cigarette bud. „But I also can see that Riley means a lot to you.”

„Careful, Meg,” I warned her, getting carried away with getting those very last drags that I actually burnt my lips with the filter.

„Or what?” She waved me off, „Someone has to tell you how it is, turns out this time this someone is me. Come on, no one sits at a bar, watching a girl get shitfaced for three hours straight.”

„Meg, she’s the mother of my kids, she doesn’t necessarily drink, meaning she can’t fucking hold her booze... I can’t just fucking leave her plastered against some sweaty, fat biker guy.”

„See... You care for her,” Her hand extended in front of her as she pointed out to her great observation.

I rolled my eyes, „It’s common sense, Meg.” I breathed in, before a heavy sigh rolled down my lips, „I would do the same for you.”

„Gawk at me for three long hours, not even going on a bathroom break? Yeah, I don’t think so.” She laughed, „There’s something special about her.”

I shook my head, nibbling the silver ring of the key, „You can’t make these assumptions, McQueen, you haven’t seen me for what five to ten years?”

„Something along the lines,” She agreed, „What’s your point?” Meg asked right as my eyes drifted to the side to see Riley sitting on the ground by my car, holding her pink head in her hands.

I looked back at Meg. „I’m not a nice guy,” I said simply as I measured the short distance towards Riley, before I turned back at Meg to shout back at her, „I’m a reasonable one.”

The last thing I saw, before my full attention went to Riley was Meg’s know-it-all smirk with the words, "sure you are," before she disappeared back in the bar. Now I was left with a completely wasted Riley.

„What a day...” I mumbled as I slid down to the ground and leaned against the car, pulling out another cigarette and left it lingering between my lips as I searched for a lighter, „You don’t mind, do you?” I asked her as I lit up the smoke. Riley let out a single grunt. „I take that as a ‘no’.”

10 PM on a Friday night and I was sitting on the ground, tugging myself in a cloud of smoke, instead of doing body shots inside those inviting walls. My head turned to the side to let me take a quick glance over the damsel in distress.

I arched my leg and rested my forearm on my knee, flicking the ash and following the fading coal as it hit the ground. „We’re getting old, Clarke... Do you even remember the times we used to come here?” I tilted my head back and looked up at the nightly sky with a smile. Riles let out a weak moan, reminding of her state. „Right. You don’t remember anything at the moment. All those shots before Johnny or later in the day even Saint threatened to throw us out because ‘it’s six AM and the party’s over’. All those Long-islands with Jimmy which undoubtedly led to us spending the night in the slammer and your mom bailing us out. They’re both probably rolling in their graves, seeing what an ass I’ve become...” I sighed, feeling Riley fall into my side. I put my arm around her and caressed her head gently. „We have to fix this Clarke... You and me...” I took a deep breath, before repeating those last words with a heavy sigh as I looked up at the sky once again. „You and me...”

Notes

Hey, sorry guys, I just noticed how much error's had I left at the previous chapter, I just fixed it so I hope all's good now, however I haven't proof-read this chapter, so don't be too harsh on me. I just don't have the energy anymore. Maybe tomorrow. :D