Chapter 1

Killian Jones stood in front of his bathroom mirror, taking inventory of what was presented right in front of him. He didn't see the shine in the baby blue eyes anymore. Instead, there was a noticeable dullness that seemed to now linger. Not only that, but the lack of sleep was beginning to show underneath. Faint dark lines of tiredness fought with the bags about which one should be more prevalent.

It was time for a shave. The usual scruff of his reddish-tinted beard had taken a wild turn, leaving him a lot bushier than he liked.

He ran a hand over his cheek while exhaling a deep heavy breath. The feeling of the coarse hair on the palm of his hand was also a bit much. He'd have to take care of that.

Killian took a step back to get a full body shot. It was getting late, yet he stood there in nothing but his black dress slacks and black socks. On closer survey, he at least felt positive about his physique. For everything that he knew he was slacking on, he had not lost the sinewy strength of his form. He could still get back into the gym though.

It was time for some kind of change, he knew. His friends had been telling him that for a good month. Even though he was going through the motions of life and recovery, he would need to put forth more than just action.

Those steely blue eyes pierced right back at him, taunting him with memories of a life that seemed so long ago. It was almost enough to push him over the edge, pushing him towards a complete breakdown due to his strong feelings of unhappiness.

His fingers crept slowly over his face, nails suddenly digging into his eye sockets as the urge to scream became almost too great to ignore. But he didn't scream. Instead, he swallowed the pain that was bubbling up inside him one more time.

Killian's hands fell away from his face and he stared once again at his reflection in the mirror. He had things to do. He had to ready himself for the day. And yet all he could do was stare at the strange persona before him. The familiar looking setting that was not so familiar. This new setting that he should have had plenty of time to adjust to, but it changed nothing…

The jingle of the cell phone broke the long and desolate silence that was now the norm of the apartment.

Killian gave a cursory glance in the direction of the nondescript ringer that was coming from his bedroom just a room away. By the general time and day he figured who was on the other end. He fought the urge to ignore it so that he could finish dressing. The only thing was that the ringing didn't stop. It sounded as if it would never stop until he would finally give in.

Walking purposefully back into the bedroom and over to the dresser, his squinted his gaze over the bright screen and read the name lighting up the screen.

With an internal sigh, he picked up the phone and slid the bar over to answer the call.

"I'm getting ready," he said tersely, knowing fully well what was coming.

"Oh. Okay." The voice came out stunted, surprised. "I was just checking up on you. I knew it was about that time. How are you doing, Killian?"

"I am fine," he murmured as he reached for the wristwatch that had also been sitting on the dresser.

"Well, that's good."

"What is it that you want, Ruby?" he asked, tired already of this game they were just beginning. He slapped the watch onto his wrist a little more firmly than need be, waiting for Ruby to answer.

Ruby Lucas, his fiery friend and sometimes foe of about seven years, audibly sighed over the phone.

"I was calling to see if we could get together after your meeting today," she told him sweetly. "You are going to your meeting today, aren't you, Killian?"

"It's Monday, Ruby," he bit out. "So of course I'm going." Killian turned towards his bed to retrieve his dress shirt from where it lay on the mattress.

"Well, when it's over we wanted to know if you had the time to do dinner," Ruby continued. "We haven't seen you in a few days and we were honestly starting to get worried about you."

Killian's eyes rose up towards the ceiling, trying very hard to not be overly annoyed by the woman on the other end. He understood that this call came from a place of care, even if it was unnecessary. He slowly began to put on the black button-down.

"I just saw you and Victor Thursday night," he reminded her calmly.

"No, it couldn't have been Thursday. It seems like a lot longer than that since I've been able to wrap my arms around you in a hug and kiss one of those bristly cheeks."

Killian was unimpressed by her attempts of wooing him.

"Listen, Ruby. I'm not even half-dressed…"

"Ooh, tell me more."

His eyes closed, silently taking a moment to count at least to five.

"I don't have long before my meeting starts, and I hate to be late, love."

"Ok, Killian. I will call you as soon as your meeting is over. Then we can all meet right after."

"Fine."

"Hey." She knew he was in a rush to disconnect the call. "I love you, Killian."

His gaze was transfixed on the wall in front of him, somewhat caught off guard by Ruby's sentiment. Seven years he had known the woman. For the past twelve months she and her boyfriend had both become important fixtures in his life. But he didn't know if at that exact moment he needed those words spilling from her lips.

"Okay, Ruby," he muttered softly. "I have to go and get ready. Goodbye."

"Bye, sweetie," she whispered. Her voice sounded full of aching even from his end.

Killian pressed the button on his phone to end the call. He took a second, staring down at the screen. Seeing the blank and insignificant screen saver was like seeing a metaphor of his life right now: trivial, irrelevant, and inconsequential. Ruby's words of love could not change that.

That was his life now. It had been that way for an entire year. And nothing, especially some flowery words and a night out would change that. He'd face that fact. When would his friends?

Killian finished getting dressed, completing the outfit with a dark colored necktie and dress shoes. He walked back to the bathroom and took one more look at himself.

"You clean up nicely, my boy," he told himself with a smile not reaching above the tug of his lips upward. Because it didn't matter. He was here alone. And he was about to venture out in the world to meet these people who were apparently just like himself. Six months, he thought, and he needed to convince himself that it was worth it.