Season: Fall. Termperatures ranging between 40 and 70 degrees Farenheit on average. Weather: The temperature rises and fall steeply this time of year so always bring a sweater. Lots of grey cloudy days and cold rain that will eventually be leading into snow over the next couple of weeks.
tbc.
Farmington City
« Not again. »
Welcome Guest. Please Login or Register. Jan 8, 2010, 10:51am
Not again. « Thread Started on Oct 13, 2009, 10:00pm »
It was two a.m. and a heavy sigh, full of exhaustion, escaped from the lips of Logan Dawl before a lit cigarette was placed in between them and he hopped onto the counter to take a seat. His black t-shirt with white angel wings on the back was slightly wrinkled up and his pale blue girl's skinny jeans had a small rip in the knee, still held up by his bright pink belt. The boy wore his bright pink converse, dirty from ware. He was holding a little bag of ice covered in paper-towel over the eye that was bruising purple. He was ignoring the blood trickle down his lip while his body was trembling. The trembling was not caused by fear, no, that was long gone. What was pulsating through Logan’s veins was anger. What the fuck is going on in this town? That was all the boy could think as he inhaled from that cigarette like it was the key to his life.
Rewind, back two hours, Logan was locking up shop at Apollo’s and working the bank deposits for the next day. All he remembered was the crashing of some glass, a group of men and then being knocked onto his ass. Their assault was brief thanks to the alarm that had sounded, though that’s not to say the boy was unharmed. Thankfully, he could whole-heartedly admit he’d been through much worse. Never-the-less, he was pissed. Pissed beyond reason some may say. There he was, not doing anything wrong, and four jerk-offs want to rob his store.
His injuries were mostly minor. A black eye, a busted lip, a few bruises to his upper body and a nice sore spot at his mid-torso. Nothing that would require medical attention, thank God. The fake thick black rimmed glasses he wore as an accessory were broken, his jeans acquired the small hole in the knee, and his head ached. The police had arrived fifteen minutes after the alarm had sounded, a fact that annoyed Logan endlessly, Apollo’s is a ten minute walk from the police station – had they been armed, he would have been dead. The men had only taken what was obviously beneficial – the bank deposit, change fund, and a few guitars. Logan was happy that most men wouldn’t check for a wedding band, he’d have choked someone if his had been stolen.
So here he was, waiting for someone to come by and repair the damn door. After an hour of police questioning and another half an hour of inspection by the EMTs he was left alone. First he bawled, he was so thankful to be alive, to not suffer the same fate as Seamus had months before. Then things changed, he got unbelievably and undeniably pissed off. And that’s how he sat, fuming, awaiting one of his staff members or family members to come by. Lord knows the cop called nearly everyone in his cell phone.
The only person on his mind was Roy. Hopefully the man in his life wasn’t too worried.
Okay that was a little bit of a lie. He was also thinking of the guys coming to fix the door. Where the fuck were they?
He threw cigarette butt number one into the trash and lit cigarette number two while he looked out through the hole that used to be a glass door.
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