It’s Five O’clock Somewhere (Open)

[Nicholas Kells]

Nick wasn’t usually one for getting wasted. Mostly because he had a habit of saying what was really on his mind when he drank too much. And sometimes that could be dangerous.

But every man has his limit to what he can take.

His ex-wife had called him as he was leaving work that day. The conversation, if it could be called that, lasted almost an hour. And it wasn’t exactly pleasant. Mostly she had ranted about Nick letting her daughter stay up too late watching a movie the last time she had came to visit. She went on you screech about how said movie had been rated PG-13 and Rachel was only ten.

After hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room, Nick had considered the idea of going for a run or to the gym to work off some of the anger building in his stomach like hot coals. But he didn’t think that was going to be enough.

So here he was three hours later, order yet another shot of whiskey and starting to mumbled to himself about his ex. The worst part was that all of this wouldn’t have seemed so infuriating if he had someone to complain to. But Nick didn’t have any friends in Pilot Ridge. And as he looked around the bar wondering who out of the other patrons were freaks metas, it didn’t look like he would be making any tonight.

[Gregory Strickland]

Greg was just starting his night, but already he was feeling out of sorts. He stumbled up to the bar after going to the washroom, standing next to a man who was scoping out the other patrons in the bar. “How’s the view?” He asked, immediately flirting. He wanted to believe it was the alcohol’s fault, so he let himself. It made him feel better. Besides, the owners of every bar or pub in Pilot Ridge appreciated their best customer and wouldn’t throw him out.

Instead of actually coping with the death of his husband, he was still partying like he was a teenager. One of these days he was going to have stroke, and he probably wouldn’t mind. He couldn’t handle the pain, one way or another. Drinking or death or drinking to death. They all seemed to end in the same place in the man’s mind. He just couldn’t deal with his reality and decided to warp it, since he didn’t have powers to help him speed through time or anything like that.

Sitting next to the man, Greg sighed and ordered his fifth rum and coke. “Get my friend here another shot of whiskey, he looks like he could use another,” he grinned at the brunet, “why else would someone go a bar if they didn’t have problems?” He sipped at the rum and coke placed before him, nodding politely at the bar tender. He turned back to the man whose space he was invading. “So what’s your poison? Lost your job?” No, Greg isn’t shy at all.

[Nicholas Kells]

Nick leaned away from the other man as soon as he stumbled up beside him. He shot him a look of disbelief when he realized that the man was actually hitting on him, but managed to hide the look of disgust.

“Nothing I would call admirable,” he said returning to his own drink. True, he had been in bars before. And he was used to the usual drinks wandering around and hitting on girls, or guys. But that didn’t mean he had to enjoy the site. The only reason he hadn’t stayed at home to drink was the fact that drinking alone was just…pathetic. But he was starting to see the advantages to it.

He had expected the other man to wander away when Nick didn’t show him any interest, but instead he was given a fresh drink. Normally Nick wouldn’t have thanked the man, or even affected the drink, but his comment about having problems hit home.

Giving the man a questioning look, Nick sighed and figured he might as well answer his question. “Woman troubles,” he said, taking a swallow of his whiskey. Hopefully that answer would not only fix the other man’s curiosity, but also inform him that Nick wasn’t into being flirted with.

“And you?’ he asked, glancing down towards the rum and coke. The whiskey was improving his anger enough for him to feel the need to be a little polite. For now at least.

[Gregory Strickland]

Greg laughed loudly. "Well of course there wouldn't be! You're in a bar after all." This guy was so bitter. What he needed, was a lot more to drink. Greg drank for his own reasons. Mostly to forget. And he drank out in public because he hated to be alone. It was much more fun making a fool of yourself in public anyways. Drinking alone may be pathetic, but only if you told someone about it.

Nick would soon find out that Greg was a hard person to get rid of. The blonde had a way of weaseling in with people. Greg truly believed that Nick wanted to be harassed, and he thought himself perfect for such a job.

"Well there you go," he said, looking at the bartender, who couldn't appear more disinterested, "woman troubles. No wonder you're here. Women are always trouble." Greg ended this blubbering with a couple of nods. "Is it one woman, or many? Because a good looking man such as yourself wouldn't strike me as having trouble at all." He grinned and tilted his head to the side. He didn't really care if he got in trouble for this.

"Just trying to stay busy, you know?" He answered in reply, taking another swig of his drink. This whole conversation was probably going to end with Greg getting punched in the face. Or something to that effect.

[Nicholas Kells]

Nick did need another drink. But not because he was bitter. Maybe because this guy was starting to annoy him a little. Definitely because he needed to forget. Forget his ex-wife. Forget the reason why he was here in Pilot Ridge. Forget he’d ever heard of metas. Forget the freaks even existed.

“Just one,” he said. “One is enough.” Apparently the guy wasn’t getting the hint, and Nick was still being flirted with. Getting the bartender’s attention, he ordered another drink. He considered paying the other man back with a drink as well, but he didn’t want to encourage him.

“Well, why don’t you stay busy somewhere else?’ Nick offered. If you know what’s good for you, he thought turning his attention to his drink.

[Gregory Strickland]

If Nick wanted to forget about metas, he was certainly in the wrong place. Greg would have told him so if he had been a mind reader. As it was, he could barely read his own mind. He himself wanted to forget his late husband, and had moved to Pilot Ridge to be closer to his meta friends, and start a new life. So far, he had just rehashed the past with his habitual drinking and never ending flirting. It didn't matter if his target enjoyed it or not.

"Oh, wife? Girlfriend?" He asked, leaning against the bar and staring at Nick with bleary eyes. Everything was more attractive with beer goggles. The bartender had sent Greg a warning glance after Nick spoke. And Greg certainly didn't want to relive that part of his past. The part where hitting on men got him beaten up. His system probably couldn't take it.

He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. "Easy there, was just trying to be friendly... uh, sorry, I didn't catch your name." Greg smiled more to himself than the man, but he couldn't resist winking. "I wasn't going to hurt you or anything, I am quite powerless." He said, setting a proper tip on the bar for the server. It was a peace offering, and Greg left his acquaintance in peace for a vacant table. It seemed that no one wanted the blonde's company tonight.

[Nicholas Kells]

Nick had quickly realized how wrong this town was for him. But at the same time he also knew it was the only place he wanted to be. Here he could make a real impact, and have some influence over things.

“Wife,” Nick said, the loathing clear in his voice. “Ex-wife.” He was glad when the man finally got the point and wandered off to another area of the bar. Although punching some annoying guy in the face would have improved his mood, Nick didn’t really want to end up dealing with cops tonight either.

It seemed that tonight was not the night for making friends.

(((ooc: wrap?)))