Chapter: 2/?
Word Count: 462
Pairings: Kevin/Edd
Warnings: Alcohol abuse (mentioned)
AN: Chapter two already… This one will be sort of Kevin-centric, and then it will finally lead to their meeting. This is really helping me out, I think. My chest doesn't feel as tight anymore, and I think I can breathe easily again. I hope you guys don't mind this change from what I usually write, but I've been in a real crap mood and out of everything I've written in the past three days, this is the only thing to get posted. Maybe I'll post the others when I feel better. Maybe I won't, we'll have to see. Anyways, for now, enjoy this chapter. ^^
Chapter Two: I Swear, I Don't Have A Gun ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
If Kevin Rhymes gave any thoughts to his future when he was younger, this certainly wasn't what he'd expected. He'd been thinking college scholarships for sports, getting out of Peach Creek and seeing the world, and maybe one day being a pro player. Basketball, football, it didn't matter what for, as long as he got to play.
But things had gone sour his senior year of high school when he'd gotten into a pretty horrible fight with his father that left his right arm broken nearly in half. After that, he just sort of stopped doing things he loved and started trying to find ways to cope.
Nazz had once been one of those ways, but he quickly realized that was going nowhere. She was the older girl, sought after by most of the boys in the Cul-De-Sac, and yet she had no aspirations of bigger things. She was content with partying with the kids she'd known her entire life, with staying in the same place and not moving on to bigger and better things. That hadn't sat well with Kevin, not one bit; he wanted to leave it all behind more than anything.
And he had, as soon as he had enough money and enough of his dad's shit. The man was either not home, showering him with gifts because of his guilt, or causing more stress than his son could bear. He'd hopped on his motorcycle and had no intention of ever looking back, riding to the nearest big city and settling in as soon as he could. Unlike some of the kids he'd grown up, he wasn't disillusioned to think that everything would work out in the end.
Working a dead-end job, living in a shitty apartment downtown, and spending most of his excess money on booze seemed to be what he was stuck with. The only time he felt like he was acceptable was when he worked on his bike, or when he drove it around town. And when he didn't know where else to drive to, where else he could go to stew in his thoughts and try to work through some things, he ended up at the park.
Tossing the helmet onto the seat and leaving it like that, he gave a languorous stretch, only putting his leather-clad arms down when he heard a satisfying pop. Starting on the path he always walked when he just wanted to think, he passed flowers, bushes and trees alike as he headed towards the small wall that overlooked the ocean, with its brick and mortar beginnings and the wrought iron fence warding people from jumping… He almost felt like something would come of today that would be fruitful.
What he didn't expect was that he'd ever see him again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: