A/n: I'm not sure how many chapters are left. Just know not many. It's almost done. No copyright infringement intended.

He ran a hand over the spot of his scalp that was absent of hair. He felt a knot in this throat. He felt sweaty. His palms, arm pits, feet. Though he was a crass and untidy man, he never felt more disgusting than he did then and there. Should he have taken a shower before leaving that day? If he knew this would have happened, he would have.

"How are you?" She said. Her voice was soft – gentle. Almost too gentle. He didn't know why he didn't feel joy then and there but he wished badly to feel something besides nervous and uncomfortable.

He hated hipsters. Why was he in Mirror Park that day?

Oh right.

He stole a scooter from that one hipster who called him gross. The guy's friend threw a can of soda at him and then speed off in his car. He followed him all the way to his home and then beat him in his driveway, yelling 'I can't believe you pushed down my grandmother'. This way witnesses would find no reason to call the police. Who would call the police on a man who was defending his grandmother? No one. No good person. That's right.

"I'm fine." He twiddled his thumbs and looked away. He wanted to throw up. His nerves were making him nauseous.

Patricia Madrazo had such a beautiful face. The crows feet by her eyes when they squinted as she smiled; her strawberry hair, a beautiful glow in the sun. All her teeth, so pearly and neat. Her complexion, smooth though graced with laugh lines. She certainly was a healthy woman at her age. To be so remarkable, so beautiful – not showing a day of age as if stress free –

Her wrinkles weren't as noticeable. Had Martin been good to her since the ear incident? He hoped so. He hoped it was her husband and not some handsome gardener that was keeping her looking so young and healthy.

"You look good Trevor." She said to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Trevor dared not to look back at her and looked at the sky instead.

"You look good too. Real nice. Martin, he's taking good care of you?" He asked.

"Oh yes. Everything changed when our son had his daughter." Trevor bit his bottom lip, still not facing Patricia. He didn't know they had a son. "I was actually just coming from visiting them. They live near here."

"So, you're a grandma now?"

"Yes. I love my little Maria. I have pictures, would you like to see?" She took out her cell phone and swiped her short little fingers across the screen in search of the gallery application. Her hands were so small; most likely because she herself was such a small woman.

"Sure." He said. He turned around and looked at her as she smiled while flicking through photos. A number of them were of her and Madrazo. Too many. He really had been treating her better. There were so many smiles. Trevor found himself saddened that she had found happiness without him. He had always hoped she would change her mind and find the urge to be with him again. His insecurities reminded him it was highly unlikely that she had real romantic feelings for him. Realism told him it was unlikely.

"Right here." She pointed. She brought up the picture and showed him the image. The infant was in Madrazo's arms, reaching for his face. "She looks just like her grandfather. It's so lovely." Patricia leaned over and placed her head on Trevor's shoulder. "I'm so happy."

He fought tears, to no avail. They welled in his eyes and slid down his cheeks, one at a time. She was happy without him. Happier than he could have ever made her.

He bid her farewell. She hopped on to the bus and waved to him through the window. He offered her a ride, but she told him she was meeting Martin at a restaurant nearby. From that, he knew it was pointless to try any further.

He wanted to ask her why she had stopped answering his phone calls. Why she never responded to his text messages, but he was so afraid. So very nervous about the whole thing. Without asking he had gotten his answer. He walked for a long time. A very long time. It was late evening when he was outside the door of Ciel's apartment. They hadn't contacted each other after he let her return to her family following New Years.

Would she open the door if he knocked? What would they say to each other?

He raised his hand to knock, when the front door opened. In the doorway across from him was a young man. He had blonde hair, fair skin and ice blue eyes that made Trevor uncomfortable. "Ciel?" The young man called. She walked over from the kitchen, drying her hands in a dishtowel. She looked and the young man stepped to the side. Her eyes widened and Trevor simply looked back at her.

"Trevor." She said simply.

"Yeah." He looked at her. Her hair had grown a bit. It was shoulder length now.

"Babe, who is this?" The young man asked, irritated.

"My – uncle." She lied. "Uhm," she placed the dishtowel in the young man's hand and pushed Trevor away from the door. "I'll be right back." She closed the door behind them and stood face to face with Trevor for the first in a long time. "Why are you here?"

"I don't know. I'm – leaving." Trevor turned away and began walking. Before she turned the door knob to go back in he called to her. "Are you happy?" He asked.

"Yes. I love this guy, very much."

"I see. Take care."

"You too Trevor. You too." She opened the door and disappeared from his sight. He could only feel more sadness. More sorrow for himself, and Trevor was not a man to feel sorry. At least, he tried very hard not to.

Later he and Michael sat by the pool of Michael's house and drank Michael's favorite whiskey. It was an odd hour of the night and Michael had an early meeting with Solomon, but he couldn't turn his back to a saddened Trevor. At one time in his life he would have gladly done so, but now – he felt a sense of loyalty had been missing before.

"Trouble?" Michael asked before sipping his share of whiskey.

"Yeah."

"Woman?"

"Women."

"It's always women." Michael poured another glass for his friend and while doing so saw the glow of his cell phone that sat on the table. It was Franklin. "Frank said to come outside."

The two men made their way to Michael's front gate and opened it to see Franklin sitting on the hood of his car; his head held by his hands. "What's wrong, F?" Trevor asked. He felt a little guilt in seeing his friend in misery. Though it was wrong, he found some comfort in his friend possibly being more miserable than him.

"Tanisha."

"Yeah – what about her?" Michael raised an eyebrow. Both Franklin and Trevor at his doorstep with woman worries. Since when was he the doctor on love? He didn't particularly like the work for he still didn't understand Amanda after so many years of marriage. It was possible he understood her less the longer they were married.

"She – man she's –"

"Franklin, it can't be that bad." Though he felt a little guilt, a little, there was too much happiness in his voice when talking. Trevor was going to reveal that at the moment he wasn't being a good friend.

"She's in the hospital."

"For what?" Michael asked. He was ready to go to bed. His patience – zero.

"Her husband…that lowlife beat her."

Trevor and Michael both stared at Franklin wide eyed. Yes, they all had their resumes as criminals, but never would it be appropriate to beat their significant others. Never. Not once. Not even if she cheated. Throw that bitch in the streets, but don't hit her.

"Well what are we gonna do about it?!" Trevor was mad. Men like Tanisha's husband, like Martin Madrazo, always got the women they didn't deserve. Why did the world work that way? Why was it so unfair?

"Well – I already did something." Franklin hopped off the hood of his car and opened the trunk. The three of them stood over it and looked in. Michael and Trevor looked at Franklin from the corner of their eyes. In it, a very beaten and unconscious man lay. "I just don't know what to do now." Trevor was the kind to put a man a trunk. Michael was the kind to beat a man half near to death. Here, Franklin had done both.

"I'm sorry." Michael said. "We're just bad influences on you. The worst." He shook his head. "I'm a bad father." Michael covered his mouth and then crossed his arms, all while shaking his head. "I'm a bad father."

"Man, stop acting stupid and help me figure this shit out."

Trevor could only laugh. Franklin looked at him and then slammed the trunk closed realizing that though it was late, they still were in a very open area. "What the fuck is so funny T?!"

"It's just – I thought I had a shitty day."

"That's really nice of you T."

"No, no. I know it's not but it just makes me feel so much better." Trevor laughed some more until tears fell from his eyes. He even had to hold his stomach. Franklin and Michael both sighed.

"Done?" Michael asked.

"Yes. Yes." Trevor nodded and caught his breath.

"Are you happy now?" Franklin asked.

"Yes. I am. Very happy." Trevor answered. He didn't feel guilt, sadness, or any of that. That moment had passed.