~Nine Months Ago~
When Lucky came to, he didn't have his pants on. Nineteen years of life experience told him that, typically, when one awoke outside of their own bed minus their pants- or outside any bed at all, for that matter- it was a bad sign. In this case he was very much relieved to find he was still wearing boxers, and notably less so to find that he had been laying face down on the desert floor.
As he began to piece together his surroundings, he jolted to his feet, panicked, gasping for breath as he looked around, horrified to find himself stranded in the middle of nowhere, his only company being bushes and cacti. His mouth was dry, throat parched, and when he looked down at himself, his body was covered in bruises and cactus spines, skin a light red, the sun already well into the sky. He wasn't sure whether to be angrier or relieved when he spotted his pants shoved underneath a rock, his shirt unbuttoned and tossed on the ground not far from there. When he spotted his suit jacket, however, it was a different story.
"Oh, you dicks... that was my favorite suit!" he groaned, running a hand through his hair.
His jacket was casually tossed over a cactus, ripped apart, one of the sleeves ripped off entirely. He stood, mind racing as he tried to think of what to do next. The odds of him dying of heatstroke were pretty good. He had no idea where he was- hell, he could be bitten by a snake and be poisoned, if not pass out from exhaustion and get picked apart by vultures. He was debating his option, when he turned around and noticed the small town maybe a mile away.
"...oh. Alright, ring-a-ding. We're in business."
He set about gathering his clothes, giving his jacket pockets a quick pat down to make sure they were empty before sighing and muttering a goodbye. That was when something occurred to him. He quickly patted his pants, finding they were empty, too. Muttering obscenities, he tried hard to remember what happened the night before. Unfortunately, it was all a whir, only able to recall eating something, then, well... he didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. The one thing he did know, however, was that it was all gone- money, wallet, phone, everything. From what he could piece together, he was likely drugged, and ditched somewhere in the desert. He wasn't exactly sure how to proceed from here. Without money or a phone, well... to say he was in trouble was an understatement. He looked back up toward the town, sighing. Make it there, he decided. Just make it to town. He could figure the rest out later.
~Present Day~
"So. Quinn," Alejandro began, spoken like a teacher to a troublesome student during detention. "I'm rather troubled. Here you come, waltzing up to us, promising your help, only for accusations of enemy fraternization to come forth. Tell me. What am I to make of this?"
Everyone stared at Quinn, and she back at them. She looked back and forth between them; Alejandro, Finn, Tyler and Luna, before grunting out an answer: "What?"
"Oh, maybe I can spell it out," Finn hummed. "Lucky and Quinn, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"
"The others were overheard arguing about you and Lucky, Quinn," Alejandro cut in bluntly, "I'm only going to ask you once. Is it true?"
Quinn felt nervous, but only for a second. If there was one thing she could do exceedingly well, it was get herself out of sticky situations. The excuse left her lips almost as quickly as it formed in her head.
"Of course its true," she scoffed, arms crossed indignantly. "Isn't this a game? I'm playing it. Just some mind games."
"I... see." Alejandro raised a brow suspiciously. "What sort of mind games, exactly?"
"The games with... bottles and... uh, spinning!" Tyler interjected, hopping to his feet. "I knew we couldn't trust her! They're totally a thing!"
"Pfft." Quinn looked over at him, annoyed. "We aren't a thing. Sit back down, ball-monkey."
"...heyyy!" Tyler deflated, offended, looking to Al for support.
Alejandro, however, just held up a hand. "It doesn't matter. Either she's telling the truth, and she's with us, or she's lying and we're doomed anyway. If she's with them, they outnumber us six to four. So, let's settle it tonight. Quinn, you're proving your loyalty by eliminating our new target: Lucky."
"...what?" Quinn's smirk faded as she turned to look at Alejandro, shocked.
"You heard me." He smiled, confident as he crossed his arms. "You prove yourself to us by voting off Lucky tonight. When he's gone, we'll know you're on our side."
"I... what about Miri?" Quinn asked, getting to her feet.
"What about her? If you're just playing games, it won't make a difference. We'll have the advantage to just vote her off later, anyway," he told her confidently. "It makes no difference. Unless... you're apprehensive about voting Lucky off?"
"No. No!" She huffed, rolling her eyes. "I just think it's a dumb move. She's more of a threat. But fine, whatever. I'll vote him off. Just don't be surprised if this comes back to bite us."
"I'm sure it will," Alejandro mused. "Glad to have you on board, Quinn."
~Nine Months Ago~
The diner was like something out of an old movie. The type of thing so spot-on cliche you shouldn't have been able to find it, from the busted jukebox in the corner, to the peeling fake leather seats, to the old, blonde waitress named Darlene with a southern drawl and a light but noticeable touch of grey creeping up. Lucky sat in a corner where he could get his privacy, his tattered and filthy clothes a surefire way to get unwanted attention. He was, however, beginning to puzzle poor old Darlene, insisting he need ten, then twenty, then thirty minutes to ponder the menu as he guzzled cup after cup of water (whatever the hell he had the night before really taking it out of him) as he tried to figure out ways to bum a meal. Maybe he could slip out? No, no. He didn't need trouble. Or to be a scum bag, he reminded himself. Maybe he could work out a deal with the kitchen, explain his situation and do some dishes for a proper meal. There was one brightside, though. After some talking (and puzzled looks) with the first local he saw, he found out he was in Arizona, after all. Good. Nearly there.
"Uh... kid?" Darlene again. The poor woman appeared by Lucky, notepad and pen in hand. "Look, boss says you gotta order something or go. You can't just sit here and drink all our water."
"Oh, um, sorry." Lucky cleared his throat, focusing on the menu, trying to turn on the charm. "Everything looks so good, I just can't make up my mind, darlin'."
Darlene was not impressed. "If you don't make it up in the next ten seconds, you have to leave."
He sighed, thinking. "I... look, the truth is..."
"Baby! I'm so sorry!"
Lucky turned, startled, as an unfamiliar woman he had never seen before slid into the spot across from him. A pale young woman, about his age, dressed in black leather pants, high heeled boots, and a red leather jacket over a black shirt, cut low enough to give Lucky something to look at. A peculiar octopus tattoo on her hand caught his eye, her sly smile covered in black lipstick and... he felt an odd sense of knowing tugging at his stomach. Deja vu?
Before he could say anything, the woman leaned across the table, pecking him on the cheek. "You'll never believe the day I had. Car broke down, and I had to take the bus home- almost missed the darn thing, would have had to hitchhike there- while they work on it for a day or two. But I couldn't miss our date, I know our jobs make it hard to meet up as much as we like, so I had to have a girlfriend drive me here, but she had to pick up her sister... forgive me?" the women Lucky was positive he had never met gave him an apologetic smile- but it was enough for Darlene to give him a genuine one.
"Well, you could have just said you were waiting for somebody!" She half-teased, half-scolded. "And such a pretty young thing. I bet you'd have waited all day for her! Can I get you another menu, honey?"
"No, that's okay," the woman smiled sweetly. "I know what I want- garden salad and a coke. And, let me guess... my darling boyfriend would like a cheeseburger with extra bacon and-"
"-a rootbeer," Lucky finished, glaring at the woman suspiciously, sinking down into her seat. "That's... right."
"Oh, you know, Petey makes the best burger in Arizona- heck, maybe in the whole US!" Darlene scribbled the order down, winking. "I'll be right back with your drinks, kids!"
With that, she was gone, leaving Lucky to glare at the woman, who absently shrugged her jacket off, glancing at his menu.
"...yeah, I know what you're thinking," she sighed. "Garden salad probably a bad choice for a place like this."
"Hmm. Close," Lucky frowned, staring her directly in the eyes. "but I was actually thinking whether or not I should call the cops to report a stalking."
"You could- but then your meal ticket would be gone," she said simply. "They couldn't find me, anyway. You threaten to call the cops on all your dates?"
"Where do I know you from, bus-stop girl?"
"Didn't you just answer your own question?"
"No, I mean, where do I REALLY know you from."
The woman chuckled, giving Darlene a wink as she placed drinks on their table before disappearing again. "Keep spinning those wheels. You'll come up with it eventually." She leaned forward, taking a sip of her coke. "Can't help but feel like its a little unfair though. Maybe you'd recognize me more if I had my old beanie on?"
"Old... what?" Lucky scowled, shaking his head. "Look, are you following me or what? What do you want?"
She stared at him, silent, before giving a sigh. "Just... giving you a little helping hand. Last night WAS kind of my fault." She reached under the table, pulling up a bag stuffed with clothes, placing it on the seat next to her. "Lunch and a change of clothes is the best I can do. But that's all I can do."
She lifted the bag again, extending it to him. He stared at it, expecting... something to pop out, or a severed head to be in the bag, but neither was true. It really was just clothes. He warily took the bag, silent as he set it down next to him, looking through it.
"Your bags are gone... wallet's gone, phone, stranded with only rags on your back..." The woman looked at him, sounding genuinely... concerned. "I don't like seeing things suffer, if they don't deserve it."
Lucky glanced up at her, frowning. "Well. Good to see you don't think I do, I guess."
"Well... I haven't made up my mind about that yet." the women stood, tossing money on the table. "This should cover it- and for gods' sake, leave the tip, alright? We'll meet again. But please. Think things through. I gave you a second chance. If nothing else... remember what that feels like."
She was gone. Lucky wasn't sure he saw her leave, but a minute later when his food was being brought out, he wasn't sure there had been anyone else there to begin with.
"Whatsamatter? Girlfriend leave?" Darlene asked, frowning, but concerns alleviated when she spied the money on the counter.
"She, uh..." Lucky shook his head, reaching down and grabbing his burger. "She had to go check on something."
"Right- well, let me know when you're ready for the check," she told him, before bustling away.
Lucky nodded absently, glancing through the bag of clothes. He paused when he saw a business card on the bottom- "No Name Inn", a drawing of a horse on the bottom.
"Heh. Hey, I dig it," he remarked, slipping the card into his pocket. He picked up his drink, downing it, pausing as he lowered the glass to the table, tilting his head slightly. "...the hell was I doing here?"
~Present Day~
"Hey. Mind if I sit here?"
Luna had just been sitting down on deck to eat when Deborah appeared out of seemingly nowhere- or, well, from the kitchen, Luna just hadn't noticed- her own plate of food in her hand, looking exhausted.
"Um..." Luna looked her over nervously, gulping. "You aren't... here to try and blackmail or bribe me, are you?"
"No. Kind of the opposite, actually," Deborah chuckled, rubbing her neck. "I know we're supposed to be enemies and all, but... you're kind of the least dramatic person here, and I could use a break."
Luna studied her, before smiling and giving a nod. "In that case, go ahead."
"Hey, thanks," Deborah smiled, sitting down. "I mean... I guess you know what's going on, right?"
"Uh huh." Luna nodded, absently poking at her food. "I wish nothing was going on... why can't this be one of those nice reality shows where we all just live together and get along and no one has to be voted off?"
"Those usually aren't as good for ratings," Deborah remarked, taking a bite of her food. "...at least, I'd guess not. I never really used to watch shows like this."
"You didn't? Then how come you joined one?" Luna asked curiously.
"Co-workers signed me up," Deborah admitted with a shrug. "I mean, I could have cancelled, but... it seemed like it could be a chance to, you know. Do something other than study, or serve lattes, or bake. "
"I know just what you mean." Luna gave a slight smile. "I guess a lot of people would say I sort of lived in a bubble all my life, so I wanted to join for sort of the same reason. Meet people and see places and do things. It was fun at first, but it seems so much more serious now..."
"Yeah... I know exactly what you mean," Deborah agreed, nodding her head. "Its all about alliances and votes and... well, alright. It always sort of was, but more obvious now."
"Hehe... maybe we should have done a singing show, instead," Luna joked, giggling a bit.
"Singing? No. No thanks," Deborah said, shaking her head. "Scheming and manipulation I can deal with, singing live for millions is a different story."
"You think this is better?" Luna asked, surprised.
"Are you kidding? Much." Deborah gave a slight smile. "If you saw the place I worked at, you'd understand. I deal with worse people every day on my morning shift."
The two laughed, and for the first time in a bit, enjoyed a conversation without worrying about who would be sent home that night. Finn joined in the laughter as he watched from across the bow. He had made a habit of trailing Luna, just looking for opportunities, and here he found one; Deborah.
After all, the most normal, unassuming people were the last ones you expected to snap, right?
~Nine Months Ago~
He got some pretty strange looks as he exited the diner's bathroom in a completely new outfit, but Lucky new it was better than walking around town dressed in his tattered suit like he was an extra from a zombie film. the clothes were a little casual for his taste- leather jacket, red shirt and jeans, and he couldn't remember buying them, either, but they fit, and he didn't look bad in them. He gave Darlene a nod on his way out, ignoring the puzzled glance he got in turn as he stepped outside, hot air brushing across his skin. Still, he wasn't in a great place. New threads were fine and all, but he didn't have his wallet, or any of his stuff on him. He didn't know how he'd get to California, or home, for that matter. He wasn't sure odd jobs or begging would do it, and he had learned his lesson about hitchhiking.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, lost in thought, surprised when he felt something. He pulled his right hand out, clutching a familiar business card- "No Name Inn".
Oh. Thought I tossed this, he thought to himself, eyeing it over, turning the card in his hand. On the back was something he hadn't noticed before... an address. 208 Robbins Road. He felt... something tug on his stomach, and he suddenly felt he knew what to do next.
"Excuse me?" He stopped someone passing by on the sidewalk, flipping the business card over in his hand and showing it to them. "You have any idea if this is nearby?"
"No Name? Oh!" the man nodded, turning, and pointing forward. "That's about a mile or so away- follow this street down, make a right on Paso, and follow that down all the way. Make another ri- or, no, left, and you'll be right on Robbins, should be right there."
"Thanks, appreciate it," Lucky nodded, putting the card away and beginning to walk off.
"Hold on there!" The man called after. "Their rooms are cheap, but, well... I'd watch out for the people who hang out there, sonny."
"Gotcha." Lucky held up a hand, waving, before setting off. It was a decent walk before he finally found it, maybe twenty minutes later. The man had been right- the building wasn't exactly well kept, the wooden motel looking in dire need of repairs, the faded and chipped horse statue outside accompanied by a sole van. He began to approach, unsure exactly of his own intentions, when he happened to glance back over at the van. He froze.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, nearly staring a hole into the side of it. It was the same van owned by the two... could he even begin to label them? The two who left him stranded. He turned away from the building, swiftly moving toward the van, glancing around to make sure the streets were empty before trying the doors. To his surprise, one on the side slid right open, and he was able to peer in. He wasn't sure whether to feel relief or anger when he found his things scattered around the back of the van, bag opened and tossed aside. He grabbed his bag, begging to sift through his spare clothes, moving them back inside (noting they now smelt like they had been hotboxed for a while), before spotting his wallet and phone. He grabbed his wallet first, opening it and cursing under his breath. All of his money was gone. After a quick survey, though, his debit card wasn't, or his ID, and for that he was grateful enough. He couldn't tell if the card was used, of course, but given it was tucked firmly into its usual spot, it seemed like they took his money and left everything else. He stuffed his wallet into its pocket, turning his attention to his phone, which had a grand total of ten percent charge, dim screen displaying one message:
Veronica, 9:02 PM: lmao
He rolled his eyes, phone quickly joining his wallet. He grabbed the last few items- pocket knife (kept just in case), deck of playing cards, and the watch he didn't recall taking off. He was angry, still, but managing to calm down when he saw he had most of his things together, shutting the van door. Then he caught the eye of his reflection in the window. But not his money.
He felt angry again, furious, taking a breath and closing his eyes. Lot of ways he could handle it. Confront them in the hotel, call the police... but he was always a big fan of personal justice.
Lucky reached back into his bag, pulling out the pocket knife he kept for emergencies. Slowly glancing around, making sure no one was watching, he took a knee next to a tire, pulling back his arm, before jabbing the knife in as hard as he could. He pierced the rubber easily, the tires already in poor shape, and he smiled a little as he pulled the blade out, air hissing as the tire slowly deflated. He was ready to get back up, call Uber and be on his way, but then he thought... hell with them. One by one, he made his way around the van, slashing each tire, standing back with a satisfied smile on his face as he looked over his work. He thought about dragging the blade along the side of the car, but justice was done. Probably.
Now he was ready to leave. Putting the knife back in its place, he turned back toward the road, stopping in place when he saw a familiar face standing on all fours in front of him. The man dressed as a dog from the night before, wearing...
"...are those my clothes?" Lucky asked, looking over the buttoned shirt the man now wore.
The man let out a low growl, giving a bark as he slowly crawled forward.
"Alright, look. Now you're freaking me out." Lucky took a step back, eyeing him cautiously. "Hey, sorry about the tires. Real finky of me. Maybe you can use the money you stole to get new ones, you goddamn lunatic."
The man lunged, bearing his teeth and snarling like he was possessed. Lucky reacted instantly, swinging a fist, connecting with his jaw. The man immediately crumpled to the ground, out cold, Lucky shaking his fist out as he looked him over.
"...you people need help," he remarked, before pulling out his phone, thumb hitting the Uber button before he set back out on the road.
~Present Day~
Saying the argument ended amicably for those involved wasn't so much an understatement as it was an outright five friends, torn on who to vote for, quickly parted ways, Lucky and Johnny willing to give Quinn a chance while the girls insisted on voting her off. There wasn't much in the way of unity, which was a recipe for disaster; and Johnny knew it, leaving Lucky alone while he tried to talk sense into everyone. Lucky sat in his room, silent, not really sure what else to do. The girls didn't trust his judgement, thinking he was being played- possibly rightfully so- and nothing he said would convince them. It was out of his hands now, and he as much as he didn't like it, he could appreciate the irony of a gambling man griping at his life being left to chance. He was going all in on his turn- but he had to wait for the house to finish shuffling the deck. The house always won, eventually- but maybe he could win a few more rounds.
A sharp knock came to the door, and before he could respond, it opened, Quinn walking in.
"You know, I could have been cha-"
"Alejandro is having everyone vote for you tonight," Quinn said simply, crossing her arms. "He wants me to, too. Prove my loyalty sort of thing."
"Oh." Lucky looked over at her, passive. "Funny, I was just conspiring to vote him off, too. Didn't go great."
Quinn sighed, quickly sitting next to him, eyes not meeting his. "...so you weren't trying to send me home? Really?"
"Really. Can't really say I like or trust the guy," he mused, before adding, teasingly, "and you're almost as pretty as he is, anyway."
Quinn rolled her eyes, chuckling a little as she punched his arm. "Shut up. Jerk." Lucky smiled, giving an 'ow' as he rubbed his shoulder, the two smiling, silent a moment before Quinn asked, "so... why? I mean, for real."
"Why what?"
"Why're you giving me a second chance?"
Lucky fidgeted a moment, staring forward absently. "I... a lot of reasons, I guess." He muttered, leaning back. "Things change."
"People change?" she asked, raising a brow.
"...I think they can. I think a part is maybe you were right. Maybe I do understand." The truth was, he was beginning to think looking at her was a lot like looking at a mirror. "Maybe I was just tired of being angry, of carrying all that with me. Maybe I missed being friends a little bit."
"Say 'maybe' one more time," Quinn warned, joking.
Lucky smiled, shaking his head. "I'm not good with this opening up B.S., but look. If there's one thing I learned, its that people can't change if they aren't given a chance."
"...thanks, Lucky," Quinn said after a while, voice quiet. "Are we... shit. Look. I'm gonna vote for Alejandro tonight, but AFTER tonight, I just want to know... are we cool?"
"Yeah." Lucky nodded, giving her a smile. "I think we are."
~Nine Months Ago~
Lucky,
I don't know if these letters get to you. Years and years without word back, and if you are reading them, I guess I get why you aren't responding. No kid should have the childhood you had. I know because I did. That doesn't make up for it, or justify it, or anything. But I grew up wanting a better life and just fell right back into the same one. After everything that happened, the fact is you can't hate me as much as I hate myself for it all. I can't wish it all away or take it back. There isn't a way to make it so we're a happy family. I blew all of that. Me and my decisions. I own that now. For a long time I tried to run away from that, but there's only so far your legs can take you. I gave up running. All I can do now is try to be better. Its slow, and not always easy, but redemption never is.
I saw you on TV a few months ago. I didn't know you were on until after it aired. I can't help but feel sorry for what you went through. People aren't fair, I know. But I'm proud you're going out and making your own life. Though, maybe a suit isn't the best thing to take to an island. (only teasing!)
I couldn't help but show you off to my friends a little. My son, the TV star. Maybe I don't have a right too, but I said I'm proud, and I mean it. Maybe Hollywood next?
This is usually the part where I ramble on a while, but I just want to say, the best thing a father could want is for his son to be better than him. In my case, maybe that doesn't take much, but it really makes me happy to see you going your own way. But I saw the way you acted on that show sometimes, maybe the most I'll ever see of you. You seemed angry and bitter sometimes. A lot of the time, especially when you didn't know the cameras were rolling. Maybe I have no business saying so, but there's enough angry, bitter people out in the world, Lucky. I'm not saying forgive me, or anyone who's done you wrong. But sometimes letting go, not giving those people a second thought is whats best.
I carry my burdens every day, but I'm no martyr. The sleepless nights and guilt are what I live with. But that doesn't have to be you. I don't want it to be, and you deserve more. Remember that.
Love,
Michael
~o.0.o~
He was surprised how soon he was able to get to California after his encounter at the motel. He managed to take a car to a hotel on the edge of the state, spending the night there before busing the rest of the way the following morning. Of all the things he recovered from the van, it only occurred to him he failed to retrieve his phone charger when he was in the next state. As such, the only thing he had to go by was the address on the letter. He lost count of how many times he reread the damn thing, silently stewing over it, finding a new thing to be furious about each time. Show him off to his friends? Friends? Everything he did and he still has friends? He didn't deserve them. He deserved absolutely nothing but to be put into a hole and forced to rot there. The only saving grace was that it wasn't signed "dad". At least the miserable bastard knew he didn't deserve to be called that.
And when Lucky finally stepped out of his cab, he couldn't help but feel satisfied when he saw the run down old apartment complex his father lived in. A shithole for a shitty human being. It fit just fine. He stood there a while, even after the cab drove off, just staring at the building, wondering what he would finally do when the door opened and the two stood face to face, and he realized he hadn't planned that far ahead. He stood, clenching and unclenching his fist, before inhaling and exhaling. He slung his bag over his shoulder, and strolled up, determined. Once he was inside, it didn't take him long to locate the door. He didn't give himself the chance to second guess this time, strolling up and knocking loudly. There was a long pause, and then finally...
nothing. Lucky frowned, tapping his foot as he waited, before pounding on the door again.
"Hello?" He called, slamming his fist on the door, "you in there?"
He waited another moment, before pounding again, faster. "Hey, open up! Don't ignore me, asshole-"
"The hell is going on out here?!" Lucky turned, shocked, as an old, overweight woman stumbled out from her apartment across the hall, looking furious. "Quit banging on the door you little shit, some of us are trying to sleep!"
Lucky blinked, taken aback, before checking his watch. "...its three in the afternoon."
"...you lookin' for a fight?" The woman raised her cane, waving it in the air with a wobbly hand. "I'll knock you upside the head, talkin' back to your elders like that!"
"I... are you for... look, grandma, I'm just trying to find the guy who lives here," Lucky scowled, backing away slightly, not wanting to take a cane to the head.
"Who, Micheal?" She lowered her cane, shooting him a hard glare. "What do you want with him, then?"
Lucky stared at her, thinking, before shaking his head. "I'm a courier."
"Courier? Mailmen don't run around dressed like that!"
"Its... a private delivery service, ma'am. I need to give him something, urgently." He pulled the folded letter out of his pocket, hoping she wouldn't question why he was delivering an unopened letter.
Luckily, she didn't. "Oh. Guess that makes sense. Look kid, he's always busy round now. Can't wait?"
"No. No, it can't," Lucky told her, slipping the letter back into his pocket. "Its been a long time coming. It can't wait."
"Oh... well, guess if it's that important, he usually spends afternoons at the church," she told him, giving an absent point down the hall- probably the direction of the church in question, he guessed. "Mmm... you better hurry though. Usually works the night shift at Gold Grocery, Michael, so if you need to catch him he may only be there another hour before he goes right there."
"Thanks, ma'am." Lucky gave her a nod, beginning to head back down the hall. "You've been a help."
~o.0.o~
He didn't ask for directions this time. He just walked until he found the church- it didn't take long, only a few blocks away from the apartment, and the line outside was a dead giveaway. A line outside the church- he didn't usually see those, not even on Sundays. He approached, curious, and the closer he got, he could see the line consisted of weary, disheveled men, women and children. Not all homeless, but it was clear they were all fallen on hard times. When he peered inside, it was clear he was looking at a soup kitchen- and there he was. Michael. His father. Standing behind the kitchen counter, his clothes and hair net doing little to conceal his gaunt frame and burn marks.
But his smile. His happy, genuine smile as he talked and joked with those coming in, seeking help, ladling soup into their bowls, winking at a little girl as he gave her a bit extra, parents exchanging grateful looks.
Lucky didn't know what to feel. He stood, hands shaking as he watched the scene unfold, his father none the wiser.
"Excuse me- are you new here?" a young woman approached, a smile on her face as she looked him over. "I haven't seen you around before."
"I'm... I'm not exactly from here," Lucky muttered, turning to face her, voice low. "Just... passing through."
"Oh, I see. We have a lot of those," she nodded, understanding in her voice. "My name is Miranda. Always happy to see a new face."
"Right... I'm Lucky."
She chuckled, nodding. "I suppose it must seem that way, but the truth is, we're always here to those in need."
"No, I mean, my name is actually... nevermind." He shook his head, sighing. "I'm not here for food."
"Oh? Then what are you here for?" She asked, tilting her head.
"...that guy, behind the counter. With the burns. What's his deal?" Lucky asked, looking up at her.
"Michael?" Miranda asked, giving a slight smile. "Well... I was still young when he first arrived. He was a kind man, but troubled. Dealing with demons of... well. I don't know if that's my story to share. He was a regular every Sunday, after a few months. Never missed a sermon, from how I hear it. Then, about a year after his arrival, he spoke to Father Parks. All this you see before you is a result of that talk- Michael is, in many ways, responsible for organizing this kitchen. He's here nearly every day, helping as much as he can."
Lucky's gaze moved from Miranda, to his father. He stood, silently staring, now trembling, trying to keep it together. All the hate he felt, all those years. He carried a mental image of his father with him- red faced, furious, bottle in hand, and cursed that man, hated him, wanted him to lose everything. But the apartment he was in, working at a grocery store... he didn't have anything worth losing. But here he was. Helping.
Redemption wasn't easy.
"...is there something wrong?" Miranda asked, concerned. "you seem... you know this man, don't you?"
"...yes."
"Would you like to speak to him?"
"No." Lucky stood, back to her as Michael and and a large, bearded man burst out laughing. "No. I need to... I need to be alone."
He wiped his eyes, shaking his head again as he turned back toward her.
"I... see." she looked him over, concerned. "If you ever need help, or to speak... I don't know what faith you follow, if any, but understand anyone here would be willing to help."
"I know. Thank you." Lucky let out a shaky breath, before heading back the way he came. "I got what I came for."
~Present Day~
Julie looked around at the weary, worried faces on the deck. She never really enjoyed eliminations, but she found herself liking them less and less as time went on.
"Okay... I'm a little tired, so... let's just get through it, alright?" She asked, biting her lip. "first bag goes to... Johnny, who has immunity. Next bag goes to..."
Veronica caught her bag, exchanging a quick smile with Miri- smiles widening as the redhead caught her bag next.
"Miri, you're safe too. Luna, you're staying. Deborah, Finn, safe. Tyler... you live to see another day."
"WOO! BOOM, BABY! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Tyler cheered, grinning wildly as he caught his bag, before quieting as he saw the glares shot in his direction. "...sorry, guys. I just haven't made it this far in years!"
Julie rolled her eyes, turning her focus back on the task at hand. "So... only two bags left."
"And three people," Lucky frowned, glancing between Quinn and Alejandro.
Alejandro just smiled, giving a nod. "Not feeling so confident?"
He looked at Quinn, who bit her lip nervously. Then at Veronica, Deborah, Miri and Johnny... all of which looked like they made big mistakes. Lucky smiled. "Nah. Just bored."
"...next bag goes to Quinn."
"Wait... this isn't right," Veronica murmured, stomach dropping. "I, uh, think there's been a mistake..."
"Hold on now. you sayin' Julie can't count right? The indignity," Finn scoffed, giving a smirk.
"...oh no," Miri whispered. "Who voted for who?"
"...craaap," Deborah groaned, looking down.
"And final bag goes toooo..." Alejandro held out his hand expectantly, looking at Lucky smugly. Lucky just gave a shrug.
"...Alejandro." Julie finished with a sigh, tossing him the bag of chocolates.
"Wait, no!" Veronica cried out, shooting up. "Wait, that's not right, that's not-"
"Hey. You gotta go, you gotta go." Lucky slowly stood, stretching out. When it came down to him, Alejandro or Quinn, he knew what happened. The girls all voted for Quinn, while he, Quinn herself and Johnny voted for Alejandro. That left four votes for Lucky.
"Lucky.. I'm sorry- we should have listened to you!" Veronica exclaimed, moving in front of him. "I... I'm so sorry! It shouldn't be you tonight!"
"Hey- I'm alright with it," Lucky told her, giving a slight smile. "Tell you what. Kick me a few grand when you win, we'll call it even."
Veronica sniffed a bit, cracking a smile as she nodded her head, giving Lucky a hug. "I'll miss you... thank you so much for everything."
"Don't worry. We'll see each other again," he told her, pulling away, before turning back toward the exit. "Well... here's looking at you, kid." He gave her a nod, walking toward the railing, giving a nod at Johnny, who tipped his hat. He peered over, looking at the life boat below, before turning back. "Look after them. Wouldja?" He asked, glancing into the crowd. Mostly everyone assumed it was Johnny he was talking to- even the cowboy himself. But it was Quinn he met eyes with, the girl furious. She didn't respond audibly- not that he expected to- or even nod. She simply turned, walking off. Lucky sighed.
"Well... hope my swimming ain't rusty," he remarked, giving a final wave before leaping overboard.
~Nine Months Ago~
For the first time, Lucky felt like he was living up to his name. His bank account was empty, sure, but he had just enough to pay for the last bus ticket home. Things didn't go as expected, but sitting at the station, tired and hungry, he didn't care. His visions were of home, his refrigerator and his bed. Of course... passing the time wasn't that easy. His phone had been dead since leaving California, so all he really had for company were those waiting for the bus with him. But he learned his lesson about strange people and road trips- the time alone to think would do him just fine.
As he sat back, waiting for the bus, though, he became increasingly aware of a scene at the ticket both. A man, nearly in hysterics, begging the attendant.
"I know its sold out, but PLEASE, you don't understand- I NEED to be there!"
"I'm sorry sir. I'm sure that's the case, but its impossible. There's nothing we can do. There aren't any seats left."
"Please- she just went into labor! If I get on this bus, I might still be able to make it!"
"I'm sorry, sir. Maybe you can get a bus tomorrow morning."
Lucky sighed, closing his eyes. "Fuck me," he muttered under his breath.
"It might be too late by then- please, I'm begging you," the man pleaded, voice wavering. "I've blown so much so far. I promised I'd be there for this. Please, I can't... I can't..."
The attendant sighed, before calling, "Is there anyone who'd be willing to give up a seat?"
No one came forward.
Don't be a hero, Lucky, he thought, this ain't your business. You can't afford another ride out of here.
"Anyone?"
Still nobody? Really? He thought, tapping his foot. I give up my ticket, and what then? I'm stranded back out here, no phone to call anyone?
Stranded like you left those two hippies, a voice reminded him.
They had it coming.
You didn't even get the full story. Maybe they did. Did you ask question before slashing their tires?
"Please... anyone?" The man looked around, desperately. "Its my wife... she's giving... I'm having a son..."
God's sake, someone give this poor guy a ticket.
You're someone.
"...I'm sorry sir." The attendant gave a sigh, sounding apologetic. "The best I can do is give you a ticket for tomorrow."
The man lowered his head, wiping his eyes. "I'm going to miss it. I'm gonna lose her. This was the last... this was my last chance. I blew it."
"...fuck," Lucky grunted, before standing. "Scuse me. Sir?"
The attendant and the man turned toward him.
Lucky sighed, slowly walking forward. "I uh... I found this ticket on the ground. Someone must have dropped it, or... something." Lucky held out his ticket, offering it to the man. The attendant looked at him curiously, having just ran the transaction themselves a short while earlier.
"...really? You're giving it to me?" the man asked, eyes widening.
"I mean, yeah. I'm... I'm next bus out here," Lucky muttered, shaking his head. "I don't need it. Go ahead."
The man looked at the attend, as if for permission. The attendant just gave an indifferent shrug.
"...thank you," the man whispered, taking the ticket. "I... thank you, so much."
Lucky shook his head. "I just found the thing. No big deal," he muttered, giving a nod, before turning away.
"No... it is." The man insisted, giving a smile. "You have no idea how big a deal this is to me. I'll never forget this."
Lucky shrugged, sighing as he walked away. That was that, he supposed. He had to find another way home. He wasn't sure how, exactly. Hitchhiking didn't go well the first time, and he had no idea what else to do besides beg. He'd manage, he was sure. He'd have to.
Then he saw her. Leaning against a wall, arms crossed, smile on her face. Black leather pants. Red Jacket. Octopus tattoo. his eyes widened.
"I know that look. Finally remember me?" the girl asked, smirking.
"...yes." Lucky stopped, staring at her. He remembered her alright. From the diner, the bus station... and the island. "You look a lot different from the first time we met. Kind of a bombshell when you lost the beanie, actually. As far as stalkers go, I lucked out- right, Aria?"
Aria chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Cute. But I liked that beanie. But that's the thing about my... well, the thing about what I do. You can preach all you want, give every warning you want, but if no one is paying attention..."
"So, what? You changed to get my attention?"
"Mhmm. Well, not just yours." She glanced down at her hand. "You have to know how to change. Blend in. Have to say, you're taking this pretty well."
"No, just have a good poker face. I'm pretty freaked out honestly."
Aria laughed, stepping forward. "Don't be afraid. I've been watching you, and many others. I'm not here to harm you."
"what are you here for, then?" Lucky asked, heart racing. He could remember it now. Everything on the island- his encounter with her in the woods, how she seemed to "influence" Chris into voting her off. "Better yet... what are you?"
"...I can't tell you. Better that way." She reached into her pocket, pulling out a ticket. "I know what you're thinking. Or, I can guess. You won't remember me this time, either. Not until we meet again. Until then... this is for you."
She handed him the ticket, Lucky accepting it warily. "...I don't get it. Why are you helping me?"
She stared at him, a smile creeping across her face. "Redemption isn't easy, Lucky. I think you've learned some things these past few days." She turned, slowly strutting away. "You pass, Lucky. We'll see if your friends can, too. Ciao."
Lucky watched her go, questions racing through his mind- yet, he didn't ask, as one by one they faded from his mind. Soon, he was just standing, dumbfounded, hand outstretched and clutching his ticket as the bus slowly rolled up to the station.
"...weird. Must have zoned out a while," he remarked, shaking off his daze and turning around. "I really need some sleep."
~Present Day~
He had only been left at sea for so long before a production crew pulled him into shore. From there, it was a quick transition into a limosuine, Lucky smiling as he slipped into the back, "The Best is Yet to Come" playing faintly from the speakers.
"Old blue eyes, huh? I like your style," he remarked to the driver as he shut the door. He looked around the limosuine, which had everything- television, leather reclining seats, a fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water from the latter, cracking it open.
"Hey, thanks man!" the driver replied from up front as they pulled off. "Not too many kids appreciate the classics these days, you know?"
"Don't gotta tell me. More of a Dean Martin fan myself, though," Lucky remarked, sighing in satisfaction as he laid out on the backseat.
"Ahhh, old Dino! That's where I got my name!" The driver grinned, turning around to flash his name tag- which, curiously, read Dino instead of Dean. "Hey, I got the whole Rat Pack in here. Quite a ways to go til we get to the hotel. You got a favorite song?"
"Me?" Lucky thought a minute, before shaking his head. "Plenty. But hey, I'll go with the flow!"
"Ahh! You and me are gonna get along A-okay, paly," Dino grinned, before turning up the sound, pushing on the gas.
Lucky smiled, closing his eyes. "...you know what? I'm alright with this."
~Nine Months Ago~
Michael was just cleaning up for the day when he found the envelope. Plain, white, his name the only writing scribbled on the back. No indication who it was from. He picked it up, glancing around, smiling faintly. "Guys? Someone leave something for me?" He asked, chuckling as he opened up the envelope. "Thank you, but I've told you. I don't want money for what I... do..." He trailed off as he pulled out the paper inside, unfolding it. He stared at the page for a long time in silence. It wasn't possible- shouldn't have been- but he knew who it was from. A sad smile crept up on his face as his eyes watered. He folded the paper up, tucking it in his pocket as he shut off the lights, locking up the kitchen and setting off to his apartment, a weight lifted. For the first time in a long time, he felt relief- and he felt it each day when he re read the three words on the page.
"I forgive you."