[Night]

-----

Lero was absolutely done with today. Maybe even done with the rest of the week, actually. The trip to the free clinic had gone about as well as could be expected. The waiting room had been full as soon as he arrived, packed to the brim with people in various states of decay on their waiting room benches. Perhaps 'decay' was a bit of a strong word, implying that they were undead or something, but it still seemed to fit. He imagined, briefly, a hospital waiting room full of zombies and vampires waiting to get in to see the doctor. It cheered him up a little bit.

His favorite doctor (How sad was that, that he had a favorite doctor at the free clinic?) had been too busy to see him, leaving him to be looked over by one of the many doctors passing through on some kind of internment. He had a cold (see, Brian?), which wasn't a huge shocker in itself. He had, however, been kindly informed that he was at a huge risk to contract bronchitis or pneumonia given his medical history, and had been prescribed some kind of antibiotic to help fight the fluid build up in his lungs. He had taken one look at the little prescription note and been half tempted to just throw it away. He was familiar enough with the names of various medicines to know it was something he wasn't going to be able to comfortably afford. He had already been trying to figure out where he could cut corners in other spending areas but coming up short.

[Night]

He texted Jay as he performed his evening routine of cooking an unappetizing dinner and settling down on the couch to eat. Normally, he would turn the television on and watch mindless television while he ate, but... Well. Obviously that wasn't an option anymore. Jay encouraged him once again to consider his offer of giving up on the lease and taking an extended stay in his guest bedroom. Lero was, for the first time, considering it. The only thing that was really keeping him from taking the opportunity to jump ship was the worry over how much he would be out to cut his lease before it was up. The numbers were beginning to pile high on his list. He sighed, tossing his plate into the sink to wash later and then setting about finding the best way to keep the door closed while he was sleeping.

So far, the best he could figure was to just shove the end table up against it once again. If there was a fire in the middle of the night, he was pretty much screwed, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with random strangers waltzing into his apartment without at least making a little noise to get in. He fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming about strangers with masked faces trying to steal his socks from the drawer and then setting the place ablaze.

[Night]

When he hauled himself through the door of the studio the next morning - blissfully on time, he might add - Jay's brother was hanging over the counter that separated Jay's desk from the rest of the lobby. He quieted when Lero opened the door, and the pair had a silent conversation that involved an intricate series of eyebrow lifts. Whatever they were talking about, it was clearly private. He shot Jay a questioning look.

"What's going on?" He asked, flopping himself down in the chair across from Jay and spinning until he could see both of them. Jay looked uncomfortable for a moment, which... was admittedly the most expression Lero had seen on his face in quite some time.

"Oh, nothing, Oli was just leaving." He glanced over at his brother with a loaded expression. That was... odd. He looked back and forth between them, kicking the toe of his sneaker against the wood of the desk. Oliver pouted at Jay, but seemed to deflate and said his goodbyes.

"What the hell was that all about?" Lero leaned forward until his elbows were braced against the varnished wood, staring Jay down. The one in question made an odd shrugging motion and set about pretending as though he had a lot of work to do, leaving Lero with the sneaking suspicion that they were hiding something from him. But his client for the morning came in, and Jay was clammed up tight and ignoring him. It was easy to forget about it.

[Night]

Strangely enough, it was Brian that suggested they all go out for drinks after work. Normally it was like pulling every single one of your own teeth out by hand to get the man to agree to anything that was remotely fun, and Lero wasn't one to miss out on an opportunity. Especially when Jay offered to pay for his share of liquor. The short brunette was more than happy to drown his current troubles in the bottom of a bottle so long as it wasn't adding further stress to his already ripping budget.

The alcohol was bitter, stinging the back of his throat and making his eyes water. Five drinks in, he stopped feeling it. Ten or fifteen - twenty? He wasn't keeping very good track at this point. At some point, anyway, he had stopped being able to feel the sick slide of the drink as it poured into him. He was left feeling bubbly and dazed, leaning heavily into Jay's side as the man ordered them another round.

"Why didn't your brother come out with us?" He asked, his words tumbling together into a barely discernable slur. Jay made a face at him, but didn't push him away. Lero clung to him like a lifeline. He'd always been a rather touchy drunk.

"It's... not really his scene." Jay hedged, throwing back another shot.

[Night]

Lero was going to follow the comment up with further questioning, but then a drink was being slid into his hand. Everything was blurry, and the obvious combat was to drink more. Realistically, it was only going to make him feel worse in the morning, but for now it was a blessing to just pretend like it was a normal Friday night.

"You may need to slow down a bit over there, Frankie." Jay was laughing at him, nudging his shoulder up against the side of Lero's face. Which - hey, when had he slid down so far? He was practically leaned over on top of Jay, barely holding his own weight up in the bench.

"Nah. I'm fine." He wasn't, but who was taking account of the details anyway? Brian reappeared from wherever he had wandered off to, sliding in next to Lero and knocking him further against Jay's side as he went. The photographer blinked at him, amber eyes wide. "Brian! When did you get here?"

"I agree with Jay. You should lay off for a while, bud." The corners of his eyes were turned up with a smile, though, so Lero wasn't going to take it to heart. He nursed at his whiskey, letting the buzz of their argument over which superhero was the best lull him into a stupor.

[Night]

At some point in the evening, he was crashed back down into his body by the uncomfortable realization that he had to piss like a race horse. He groaned, turning his face into Jay's shoulder. Getting up and finding the bathroom seemed like a chore that he wasn't even remotely prepared for, but nature called. He sat himself up, shoving at Brian until the other man slid from the bench and allowed him exit. Standing proved much more difficult than he remembered it being previously, and his vision swooped and galloped around him as he squinted to find a sign as towards where he was heading.

"You need some help there, bud?" Brian was giving him that carefully blank face that suggested he was trying hard not to laugh. Lero waved him off, stumbling in a random direction in hopes that if nothing else, he could meet with the wall and follow it around until he found what he was looking for.

It took significantly longer than it should have, but he managed to locate the bathroom. He went about his business, and then found himself leaning heavily against the sink, staring at his reflection. "You're drunk." He told himself. The mirror, unsurprisingly, failed to respond. "You're drunk, and you need to slow down." He had to admit, he was very convincing. He didn't intend to follow the advice, of course, but it was the thought that counted. Or something like that.

[Night]

"You need to get your shit together, Cole." He gave one final farewell to his reflection before turning away. Exiting the bathroom, he could see Jay a few booths down from theirs, chatting with a clearly inebriated woman. Brian appeared to be missing in action once more. Lero contemplated just sprawling out on their claimed bench, but changed course halfway there to teeter up to the bar for another drink. The bartender seemed to care less about his already inebriated slump, turning her back and preparing his beverage with a few overly pronounced gestures. He tipped her generously after telling her to put it on Jay's tab, ignoring that he would miss the money in the morning.

Drink in hand, he scanned once more for Brian. He couldn't spot his characteristically too-straight posture anywhere in the sea of faces. Perhaps he had gone out for a smoke? Finding the door that led out back was even more difficult than locating the bathroom. He pushed his way through it, almost tripping himself when it came open much more readily than expected. Lero clutched his drink tight against his chest, scanning for his friend. The patio was surprisingly empty for a Friday night. How late was it? Jay had taken his cell phone at some point to keep him from calling an old fling and hadn't given it back.

[Night]

The only person outside was a wrinkled old man, leaning heavily against the brick of the alley like some sort of homage to an old Marlboro commercial. The man didn't seem to notice him there, caught up in staring at the opposite wall like it held the answers to the universe somewhere in its mortar fillings. Lero patted at his pockets with his free hand, figuring that while he was out here he may as well partake. Jay must have made off with his smokes while he wasn't looking, as well.

"Hey, old timer." He offered the best grin that he could manage in his inebriated state. "You have one of those that I can bum?" The man remained still for a moment, and Lero began to wonder if maybe he should just go back inside. The dude was giving off some seriously creepy vibes. Finally, a veiny hand came up to dig the pack of smokes from his lapel pocket. The old man flicked one out of the top in a practiced gesture, offering it to Lero wordlessly.

"Ah. Thanks!" He reached up and took it out of the end of the box, moving a bit further down the wall towards the door. All those horror movies he watched as a kid really came back to bite him in these sorts of situations.

[Night]

He lit up and took a drag, letting the smoke linger out into the alleyway and watching the cloud as it twisted and rolled before disappearing into the night air. Lero was a good three quarters of the way through the cigarette before the old man moved suddenly. It was a small movement, just the turn of his head to face in Lero's direction, but it was enough to make him start.

"It's a nice night." The old man croaked, nodding up at the clear sky. The stars sparkled brilliantly above them, dimmed only by the faint glow of the city lights. Lero nodded, puffing at the cigarette. "Won't be long now before it starts getting cold."

Lero snorted to himself. It was a running joke, of course - one that everyone used. Had to make small talk? Just discuss the weather. He had never seen anyone actually use the tactic before, though. "Yeah. Gonna be a long winter." He held his breath, holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could stand before exhaling.

The old man hummed, the burnt out end of his own cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth. "Won't be long now." His voice held the barest trace of wistfulness, and Lero was struck with the sudden impression that perhaps they weren't only talking about the weather after all. The topic change threw him a bit. "You here by yourself?" The man asked him, raising a grey eyebrow. "Seems as though a nice young man like you should be out having the time of his life with his buddies. Get after it while you still have it in you, ya know?" The old man flicked the butt of his smoke away from him, immediately pulling out another and sticking it in place of the old one to light it.

[Night]

Lero shrugged, relaxing and leaning his head back against the wall. Speaking with him, the elderly man really didn't seem so bad. First impressions weren't all they were cracked up to be. Lero could get behind that. Something about the guy made him want to talk. The alcohol, probably, combined with a shitty week and the anonymity that came with speaking to a perfect stranger.

"I'm here with some friends of mine, yeah. They're inside living it up. I'm mostly just here to forget about everything else, though." He laughed, a self-depreciative sound that echoed awkwardly against the bricks of the alleyway. The old man tilted his head in an inquiring manor. Before Lero could control himself, he was spilling out what seemed like his entire life story to the poor guy.

"I dunno, man. It's just been a hell of a week, really. Someone broke into my apartment and stole all my shit." He began, stubbing out his own light on the wall beside him and holding the butt of the cigarette between two fingers. "And my boss has been on my case about being sick all the time. It's like... it's not my fault I have the immune system of a pancake!" He flailed his hands up around him, exaggerating his point. The stranger offered him another smoke, and he took it gladly. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. We're barely staying afloat, so any time I have to cancel out one of our appointments it costs us. But I can't help it!" He looked to the stranger, as though trying to validate his own claims.

[Night]

"I hear ya, kid." The stranger slid his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the bricks once more. Lero followed the movement idly, his eyes glazed over with the force of the alcohol on his system. The high of inebriation had become a slow burn, making him feel as though he might just float away at any given moment. He half-wished he could just stay like this forever. It was a dangerous thought to have. He knew that this was how alcoholism took ugly root in someone's mind, draining everything out of them and creating a shell of a person. But it was hard to ignore the draw of running from your problems.

He realized, belatedly, that the man must have still been speaking to him. The old timer was staring at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to answer a question or provide input on something that he honestly hadn't heard.

"I'm sorry, I think I spaced off for a minute there. What did you way?" He blinked at the guy, suddenly over tired.

"I said, if you're in a bad way and looking for money, I run a small business that could always use some help." He gave Lero a yellow-toothed smile. "It's nothing big, of course. But you seem like a good kid in a bad way." From his pocket - the same one that held his cigarettes - he held out a business card. Lero hesitated before taking it, squinting his blurry eyes to read the small text.

[Night]

It was difficult to read in his current state, but he managed to barely make out the guy's name and phone number. There was no other information. He flipped it over, searching for a business name and coming up short. "What exactly would I be doing, Mr... ah." He glanced down at the card once more. "Benson?" The old man was crushing the remainder of his cigarette beneath his shoe.

"Benton." He corrected automatically. "You would just be running some errands for me. Delivering packages mostly. You could just come by when you get off work." It didn't seem like a bad gig, and Lero was hurting for money in a desperate way. He wasn't normally the type to accept random jobs from strangers. He already had a job, even. But it was hard to turn down the offer to make a bit on the side.

"I'll think about it." He allowed, stowing the card in his jacket pocket. The two spoke for a bit longer as Lero finished off his smoke. Brian poked his head out the door, clearly having been searching for him for quite a while if his exasperated look was anything to go on.

"Frankie! I was beginning to think you'd been mistaken for a child and kidnapped." The deadpan expression offset the clear worry in his eyes. Lero apologized.

"I was just having a smoke and talking with Mr. Benton." He smiled at Brian, turning to wave at his new friend only to find that the guy had disappeared while he was distracted. Brian frowned at him, confused.

[Night]

The next morning hit him like a car fulfilling a roadkill quota. Lero groaned, trying to roll over to block the sun out of his eyes and only succeeding in rolling off the living room couch. Apparently his drunk self hadn't seen fit to actually go to his actual bed less than five yards away. His drunk self was an asshole. He lay sprawled on the ground, trying to decide just how important it was to move. He didn't have work that day, and no immediate plans. Besides, movement was the enemy, and he really ought to try and do as little of that as possible. Except his stomach was flipping, and - oh. No, he needed to move right now. He disappeared into the bathroom to make friends with the porcelain. After, he tried to will himself to move off of the cold tile where he had taken up residence. He still felt stuffy and sick, to which the hangover and the exposure to the chill did not aid. Why did he do these things to himself?

He curled himself up on the bath mat, shivering and uncomfortable but unwilling to force himself upwards and risk upsetting his fragile stomach contents.

[Night]

The hangover persisted until midafternoon, when he finally managed to drag himself into some semblance of order and cook something to settle his stomach. He found his phone and plugged it in, turning it on to find that Jay had been giving him shit for talking to an empty space in the alleyway for the majority of the morning. He texted him back a string of profanity as he ate, making sure to express just how awful he thought the other man was. He received a smiley face in return.

If it weren't for the business card that he had set in a place of honor on his coffee table, he may have been questioning his own sanity as well. He hadn't told Jay about the offer. For some reason it just seemed so... clandestine in nature. The whole ordeal was sketchy. Who even looked for potential employees in the back alley of a bar? He knew that as soon as he told Jay, or Brian for that matter, that he was considering the offer they would talk him out of it. But he needed the money in a bad way, especially if he was going to keep his own place.

The sun was going down before he had really even gotten up for the day. He certainly wasn't being productive with his free time.

[Night]

The next day he felt marginally better, though not the least bit more productive. He sat on this living room sofa for at least an hour, staring down at the little card and reading the name and phone number over and over. Before long, he would have it memorized. As the sun made its way closer to the horizon, he finally gave, retrieving his cell phone from between the couch cushions and dialing in. The dial tone rang hollow in his ear for several long moments before someone answered with a simple 'Yeah?'

It hardly seemed a professional greeting, but he had already made up his mind. Lero wasn't going to let it deter him now, when he had spent all afternoon going back and forth on this. "Hello, Mr. Benton? It's Frank. I was wondering if you still had that job opening?"

He had no idea how he was going to manage it without a car, and no clue what he would be doing. But hell if he was going to go live in Jay's guest room and mooch off his friends.