I don't know what I'm doing here...
I haven't logged in in THREE YEARS...Guys. GUYS. I'm in college now. WHAT.
Don't expect any updates. Like ever. This was a one time thing. All my old fanfiction- I- I just can't. I don't think my writing style changed too much compared to the most recent updates, but the older ones...*shudders* The writing, the plots. It's all horrible. I can't even look at any of it. I want to delete all of it, but as bad as the stories are, I can't bear to go through with it. I'm a sentimental person, ya feel?
I'm sorry. I just kinda felt like writing something. So, here's this. It's a completely different fandom than what I used to write, so maybe this is kinda surprising? It's short. And random. And quickly thrown together at the last minute because I was bored.
I don't even know what this is. I didn't even have to use this fandom or these two characters. It could have been anyone else- but hey. That's fanfiction for ya.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to disappear for another three years or so.
Some people are beyond understanding. There's more to them than they lead on. "Maybe he could just pretend that for once, someone understood."
A man, 27 years of age, sits at the bar counter, drink in hand. It's freezing outside, but the alcohol warms him right up.
His hair is unkempt, and his disheveled suit isn't much better. He tugs at his shirt collar and loosens the knot in his tie - it's nearly choking him.
The intermingled smells of smoke and cheap cologne don't faze him. The room is dusky and dingy. The whole scene reeks of sweaty desperation. The club beats and the questionably raunchy pick-up lines and the drunken laughter ‒ it's all just background noise.
He tossed his head back, downing the remainder of his liquor in one swig before ordering another shot.
An older gentleman approaches the counter, "Gin and tonic," he calls out to the bartender. He's dressed in a dark gray button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, in dress pants and a red tie. His hair was starting to gray, to match his gray sharp eyes.
He sits down next to the other man but shifts his body to face the opposite direction.
The two men sat in silence, waiting for their drinks.
When the bartender returned with their drinks, the younger man quickly finished his off. The older gentleman glanced over his broad shoulders at the younger man's thin, lanky figure.
"The way you downed that liquor, there's obviously something on your mind."
"What's it to ya?"
"Nothing."
The older man just stared straight ahead, sipping his own drink. The younger looked at him long and hard - judging - before dropping his gaze altogether.
"So..." he began, staring down at his hands, wrapped around the empty shot glass, "Say there is something on my mind. Whatcha gonna do about it? You one of those guys who always goes around trying to get to know people's backstories? Gonna try to sympathize with me and be all chummy and whatnot?"
"No. Just noticing."
The younger man sneered. "What's up with you?"
"Just catching a drink after a late night at work." The older man reached into his shirt pocket for pack of cigarettes. He took one before offering one to the other man.
The younger man didn't typically smoke, but he accepted it anyway.
"Ryotaro Dojima."
"Huh?" he stopped rolling the cigarette between his fingers.
"My name. It's Dojima," the older man clarified and passed his silver zippo lighter.
"Tohru Adachi."
"So, Adachi...what's got ya down?"
"Well, if you really must know..." he tried to take a long drag but began coughing.
Dojima just smirked. "You didn't have to take it if you weren't a smoker."
Adachi cleared his throat. "I-I'm just not used to it..." he explained, trying to recover from that embarrassment.
"...If I really must know...?"
"If you really must know..." the younger man continued, "I just...recently got out of a relationship."
"So, you're drowning your sorrows?"
Adachi scoffed. "Pfft, 'drowning'? I'm celebrating."
"Could've fooled me."
"Hey, why should I be upset? Bitches and whores... What a pain in the ass. I don't need that shit. Besides, I could pick up any one of those girls over there if I wanted." He nodded toward the people seated at tables getting drunk off their asses. "Easy."
"So, why don't you then?"
"Because I already know what to expect." He sat up, straightening his posture. "I'll go to her place, sleep with 'er, and then leave her. What else are they good for?"
Dojima just shook his head, ignoring that last statement. "She must have meant a lot to you..."
"Oh? And what makes you say that?"
"If she didn't, you'd already be taking one of those girls into bed now, wouldn't you?" He exhaled a puff of smoke.
Another scoff escaped his lips. "And how do you know I'm not going to go through with it?"
"You won't."
Adachi couldn't help but grin.
What was this feeling? ...Understanding?
No. No, that couldn't be it...
...But maybe. Maybe he could just pretend that for once, someone understood.
The two men sat in comfortable silence.