The wood of the stick smoothly slid between his fingers. His eyes focusing, zeroing in on one target than another, they were eyes looking for the kill. He could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of the stroke. Smoke lazily drifted over the unusually still bar. This was the moment Reid Garwin lived for. This was his high-no black eyes.
Reid studied the table taking in the balls still left. Two stripes, one solid, and the eight ball. Reid was stripes. Concentration marked his brow as Reid bent over the table, his shot lined up. The poised stillness of the motion intoxicated. The pool stick stroked out in short practice thrusts before it followed through and set the q-ball in motion.
The first stripe fell into its pocket, and then the second. The q ball rolled to a stop, only one shot left. Slowly unbending his tall frame Reid studied the table. Voices murmured in the background, speaking of his impossible shot, Reid heard nothing. The silence of his thoughts was deafening. Nothing broke his concentration. He circled the table to the q-ball bent over and with a quick practiced motion set his win in place.
An instant uproar came from his opponent. Abbott never lost graciously. A cocky sneer in place Reid turns to face the jeers and calls of cheater, the high of the game slowly reseeding behind the anger of false accusations. The bar tender ushers them out in a practiced motion, making the usual threats. Reid shifts his façade into place, once again the cocky arrogant teen- No longer one with the game. He pushes out distancing himself from the voices, ready for a fight, spoiling for a fight.
The bat and bar tender come down the steps, threats are issued, Abbott and his goons leave. Reid always knew he was a pansy.
Quick hurried steps down into the alley. Allegations thrown- Angry words- Black eyes- Black eyes- Crash- Bottles broken- Trust gone.
The high gone- He never uses alone- No addiction- no abuse- False allegations- false friend.
Glass cuts his shoulders as he lands. He can barely feel it, but he can hear himself shouting angry words. That's all there is between two who should be brothers. Angry words.
Where did it go wrong, when was the covenant broken? There are no more rainbow skies, only distrust. They accuse and hurt him while hiding behind the word 'brother'- The idea of 'help'. They are not brothers. There is no longer a binding tie. All they have left is power. All that connects them is fear.
The pool table is his only sanctuary. At the pool table he need never cheat. All the game requires is skill and complete dedication. There is no room for hurt, and there is no room for lies. It is all on you. There is safety with the stick in his hand and the q-ball in his sights. The pool table is all he can rely on.