all on my own

abel thompson // 28

[thelostcoastcalling]

Take me to Church

[abelthompson]

laid-bear‌:

After buying what he needed for an apartment, Bear sat down at his kitchen table to run numbers and see how badly he’d just hurt his bank account. If it had been limping before, the account was now basically dragging itself by one arm across broken glass–he was going to be in trouble if he didn’t find a source of income fast. He’d recently splurged and gotten himself a mid-range iPhone and had spent the morning drinking coffee and perusing job opportunities in Dayton before he saw that there was opening for a gig at a place called Church–he’d snorted out loud at the irony of the name, because he’d known a lot of people who’d considered a bar a house of worship.

He’d texted the number on the ad and found himself driving his truck into town on a Sunday afternoon right before the inevitable end-of-weekend rush that, by his experience, typically brought in people clinging to their last hours of freedom before jobs and responsibilities called them back to reality. He checked his phone again, making note of the name of the owner before he brushed one of Moose’s hairs off of his black t-shirt, climbing out of the cab and walking into the establishment. He immediately went to the bar, clearing his throat before asking one of the bartenders for Abel, tucking his keys into his pocket as the bartender went back to fetch the owner. He was a little nervous, knowing that he needed to make a good impression so he had a fighting chance of, you know, affording a kitchen table and making some kind of living in Dayton.

@abelthompson​

church had always been a dayton favorite. even before he turned the back half into a nightclub during the expansion project last fall, it still seemed to be a hit. in the front, a bar and lounge, in back yet another bar in a vegas club little atmosphere. and because of the location, downtown and right in the heart of dayton’s nightlife, it was always packed. abel knew he needed to hire new staff. he was going to ask shane to take over bar management, promote the long standing employee to help church run seamlessly, but that meant he needed a new bartender to take her place in the front half.

abel came out after being alerted by an employee, putting on a relaxed smile and sticking out his hand to greet him. “hey there, i’m abel. you’re here for the bartender position, right?” he asked, a firm handshake delivered before stepping back and directing them to sit at a booth, new upholstered and finished in a deep colored wood lining. “so, been in dayton long? been in here before?”

[abelthompson]

oricnking‌:

spook is a relative term. he hadn’t spooked her, and if he had, nothing the knife she carries with her wouldn’t be able to fix. she’s got a gun, too, department issued and everything, but that’s kept in her glove compartment on mornings like this - when she doesn’t quite have to make that transition into cop just, yet. there’s a chance she never really makes it there anyway with as much as she allows to slip under the radar and what she’s managed to brush under the rug in the year she’s been in dayton. 

“spoken like a true dweller of the depths of this town,” king remarks, eyeing abel as he approaches. he flicks ash into the window, her own cigarette caught between her lips. “was hoping to find a some schmuck willing to buy, instead i found you. shame,” she teases with a soft ‘tsk’, dropping her head back against the brick at her back. “hah, playing cops and robbers sounds right. i swear to fuck this is the worst system i’ve ever seen, not that i’m complaining, but damn. don’t knock the donuts, either, like you wouldn’t pound away a couple.” 

silence falls around them before king breaks it again. “i’ve got one scheduled for this friday if you’re interested?” she doesn’t need to clarify. abel knows what’s up.

“isn’t it always? i’m never the most thrilling to run into.” he knew he was intimidating most days - a stern jaw, broad shouldered and rigid. marissa had softened him slightly and sure, he had been kind to the people of dayton because abel thompson was in the business of business itself. be kind to the people who feed you and you will always be given dessert, his mom used to say. ties to multiple popular establishments in dayton, all funded by people craving for more - and they were doing just that for him. on a silver platter no less. but abel had grown hard over the years, an armor over him that didn’t send off the warmest of energies. at least in this town they weren’t directly avoiding him out of fear. no one knew that man he had left behind in chicago. “they sure turn a blind eye. for a price of course. and you’ve got it all figured out, sweeping over your tracks as you go.” abel sighed and took another inhale. “i shoulda become a cop, but i dunno-“ lungs emptied, smoke being blown into the street instead of her direction and abel shook his head. “-blue’s not really my color.”

and he had a record. and he had gotten away with more than he had been ready to face head on. staying low was the move, always.

“apple fritters. total weakness,” he confirmed joining her a couple of feet away against the wall. “i’d eat two at least. have you ever had a maple bacon donut though? doesn’t sound up your alley but i’ll bet an easy grand that it’s at least worth eating. you’re always surprising me anyway, king.” it really had been dark, barely any light in this corner of town. usually he was looking forward getting home, rolling a blunt, and sleep until his assistant got him up for a meeting or a conference call. but this felt nostalgic almost. abel would always be more comfortable in the darkness.

he tensed but didn’t hesitate, a simple, “i could work that in. same time as usual?” comes from his lips before they’re around his cigarette again.

[abelthompson]

realdylanadams‌:

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” she replied, with a nod. Dylan wasn’t big on asking for help but Abel was definitely one of the few people she trusted. He was probably the closest thing she would call a friend, which is a little sad considering they were just business partners who got drinks from time to time. Their little web of powerful people in Dayton were the only people Dylan truly trusted in this crazy fucked up town. Even Scotty was shady and to not be trusted despite knowing him her whole life. Dylan smirked and a shook her head playfully at him, she was just happy to see Marissa finally stop sulking over the trainwreck that was Shane and for Abel to be that reason. “It aint a good party if you don’t have to do some major clean up after,” there was some pride in her voice. Even if this was going to be a long day of putting the place back together, she couldn’t deny how successful the opening had been. And of course Abel understood. If she was making money, he was making money. With that opening, both of their wallets were stretching. “As entertaining as Scotty’s bullshit is, I wish he would stop with the destruction of property. Save that shit for his parties. You want a drink or something? There’s no way I’m doing this sober.”

she had a point there and abel acknowledged it with a chin raised in her direction. “have to say, you do a fine job of bringing the miscreants out to play. everyone loves the chance to feel important. i commend you on making a group of them cause chaos for the chance at making the vip list. if i couldn’t afford it, i’d be pulling myself from the depths of the plebeians for one solid chance to sit with daddy dylan too. thank god we’ve passed that stage in our lives.” abel had to laugh a little, thinking about the night before and how many daytonians were trying to play the game, complete puppets for dylanand scotty to enjoy. “oh that wasn’t your idea? i’ve heard some things in that regard. didn’t he burn shit down last winter? he has a whole mansion to ruin. sometimes he really is the jake paul of dayton.”

he half scoffed, air blowing out of his nose. “abso-fucking-lutely. i’ll even get out the broom but don’t ask me to wipe down the booths. heard someone started fucking in them.”

[kingchillmonger]

[abelthompson]

themarissaharrisxn‌:

Marissa had never had an easy relationship with the concept of love. Growing up in Vegas she had seen everything from huge city-wide celebrated weddings to small shack ceremonies. She’d been on the front lines of Vegas’ nightlife and had seen more proposals than anyone ought to have seen. Yet, at each one, she would wonder what the big deal was. Marriage was nothing, it didn’t mean there was love, it didn’t mean there was commitment. It was just an expensive piece of paper and a gamble. For her, the concept had turned into a gamble of sanity. 

Delilah had changed everything Marissa had thought she knew about that four-letter word. It made her understand why people kept going back to those who kept leaving. It made her realize that those who kept returning just to get hurt weren’t stupid; they were in love. But, now? Now all was said and done, she had regressed right the way back to her youth. The gamble she took with that blonde, the all-in stake she had committed to with her heart and her own sanity? She’d bust. Her job, her company, her ten-year, her friends and her sanity had all been taken by the same train that took Delilah. That train wouldn’t have had the power to do that had she not allowed herself to believe in such cliches. 

Then, in a desperate grasp to hold onto the past she had found herself betting on the same odds with Shane. It was easy to go all-in when all-in meant nothing. With Shane, she had thought there would be no risk. But, once again, the love dealer had turned over higher cards and someone else had the blackjack. 

Now though, she had taken control of the game. Cards were being counted, a level-head disciplining and controlling the hearts’ desires in order to only put out safe bets. Abel. He had always been a safe bet when it came to investing. Between them, they had power and money in almost every business in town. Legitimately, their influence rivaled even Scotty Wheeler’s. But the Dayton top family had their true power in the illegitimate. She wanted that power and if she was going to go all-in for one last bet? She’d put her money on the fact that he did too. 

The way the man presented himself, the way he allowed his money to talk, the graft he put into his businesses. It spoke more words about who he was, and what he wanted than they could ever talk about over dinner. What happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force? There was no better question to put as an analogy for the two of them. Yet, here they were, playing games with words over a pool table. We’ve all seen demons. Her interest peaked, an eyebrow arching as she watched him watch the balls on the table. “Mmm, but what is a demon is to one person might be more like an angel to another–” she paused, leveling out her next shot. “– depends on what flavor of life you’re into.”. 

Sure, there were more enjoyable things to barter over a game of pool for but with the sexual tension that was a constant lingering between them, Riss was sure that that would come one way or another. “There’s no such thing as luck, darling. You should know that by now,” she winked with a devilish smirk. “And,” she breathed as she took the cue from him, body brushing purposefully close as she passed by, “it’s not a kink. However,” she paused. Body bending over the table as she lines up a shot, right eye closed before drawing back and releasing. “If you think it’s too boring, we can play a game of 20 questions in the style of strip poker. Don’t want to answer? That’s fine,” she continues as the next ball tips over the edge into the socket, the woman following it, passing by him again, stopping in front of him. “Or, I mean, we could just take each other’s clothes off anyway…” 

abel could only shrug because in his lifetime and with what he had seen, the only way he could say he was standing there with marissa was through pure luck. of course, not everything lead back to some sort of miracle, abel worked himself to the ground for the lifestyle he was trying to uphold. for him, there was no god keeping watch, no guardian angel to protect him. allowing himself to think like that would only lead him down the road to nowhere, a dead end where nightmares loomed of a girl shot in the head laid bleeding in his lap and his brother screaming out his name in agony. what about them? instead of letting himself go there, he simply clicked his tongue at her while giving a little shrug. “some things should be given credit to karma,” he told her, leaving it there for now. he wasn’t sure when the appropriate time to tell her his secrets would be or if it would present as too much of a liability, but abel liked their back and forth. he’d do his best to protect that too.

breath held as marissa moved around him, holding back from pushing her onto the pool table and fucking her senseless. there was nothing about marissa that wasn’t attractive, even vulnerable in a hospital bed. even while fishing for substance. he wished that he could stop giving a fuck but those thoughts only surfaced when he felt anxious about letting someone close to him again. for now, he’d press them down and focus on how her lips felt and her moaning out his name. -the endgame to all of it promise the pair of them rolling around in high thread count sheets whilst completely naked. focus on their plans of power and control. blood pulsed into his dick, abel having to redirect his train of thought entirely as to keep himself leveled.

he watched her bend and abel couldn’t help it anymore, letting out a whine as he sucked in his bottom lip through a locked jaw. abel was behind her again, this time letting his hands wander to her hips and over her ass, but only for a second because he needed to move in order for the cue not to poke him in dick on the back end of her shot. “i’ll answer,” abel let out breathlessly, in awe of how she could twist him around her finger and have a shit eating grin plastered on his face while she floated around the table, crushing balls into their pockets like it was nothing.

marissa in front of him again and abel stood his ground, eyes sinking into hers and smirking at her proposition. “you run a hell of a bargain. no wonder you’ve gotten this far, anyone even thinking of denying you is signing themselves into a deathbed. -fuck, you’re a helluva woman.” but then full lips straightened, abel leaning down just enough for there to be only inches between two sets of lips that seemed to be magnetic. he had only a couple of drinks and his driver was waiting in his car outside but he’d kick him out of the driver’s seat as soon as they got to the parking lot. 

“do you trust me? put the cue down. let’s go.”

[abelthompson]

bethanyrob95‌:

Beth cringed. She realized she had interrupted the man in front of her on a phone call that appeared to be rather important. She was suddenly intimidated by him. He had an office. He was getting calls outside of work. Beth had a feeling she had stumbled upon one of Dayton’s biggest and baddest; the ones she had been hearing about. 

“Oh…” she began, “I’m so sorry if I interrupted you. “It’s so unlike me to do this.” Beth was normally the prepared one. She was the one her friends would go to when they needed help. She was always one step ahead, but she was off her game today. Beth followed the man’s finger’s as he pointed to the street signs. “I live in an apartment complex near The Grind. If you tell me how to get there, I can get home from there. Again, sorry to interrupt you.” Her Canadian accent was thick when she said ‘sorry’, and Beth was aware it stuck out amongst most citizens of Dayton. Beth followed the man’s gaze down to her phone in her hand beside her. “Yeah…” she began, “Again, so unlike me. I’ve been playing music out of it all day while I was unpacking and I was just so eager to go out for a run…” she trailed off, hoping she wasn’t making an even bigger fool of herself. 

she started backtracking and abel straightened his posture and shook his head. “you’re fine, really. you practically did me a favor by getting me off the phone. he’s probably the most annoying guy i have to talk to every week. ever have any of those? people you have no choice but to put up with?” abel sniffled before licking at his lips. she was pretty, babyfaced and wide eyed. clearly out of her element with the way she looked to have been giving herself a good sweat.

“oh c’mon now don’t be like that. let me get you an uber. it’ll be faster than me trying to explain shitty directions with the probability of you getting lost.” it was a gesture that abel didn’t make often but he knew that he wasn’t the best at navigating people form point b back to their starting points. and with a dead phone? forget about it. “hey, don’t get down on yourself. it’s fine, everyone gets too into shit sometimes. i’m abel, by the way. no one likes a rando tryna force you into the back of a prius. i mean well. i didn’t catch your name-“

[rob-pattinson]

MICHAEL B. JORDAN Esquire / 2019 › Behind The Scenes

[abelthompson]

aurelia-cuttler‌:

Aurelia had been running errands all day and was honestly tired of it. When she finally stopped at Take The Cake for a sweet treat that was definitely deserved, she was surrounded by bags and tired beyond belief. She ordered six cupcakes and brought them to an outside bench before instantly starting to devour the first one. Her fingers were covered in icing, and as she licked them clean, a shadow fell over her. “Hi, would you like a cupcake?”

he grabbed a napkin dispenser from outside the shop, offering them to the blonde. “no, i’m fine but thank you,” abel told her, taking a seat on one side of the bench. fingers fished for a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, pulling one out of the crumpled pack while eying the shopping bags and box of pastries. “looks delicious though. flavors?” abel asked before lighting up, smoke clouds billowing above his head after a hearty exhale. “i’ll need ideas when i’m craving something on cheat day.”

[reallifehqgossip]

Abel is the least relevant of the big four and that's very disappointing considering what a fine piece of ass he is.

“I think he just likes to take a backseat meanwhile Dylan, Marissa, and Ainsely take control of the whole town. That way he can still have his name on things without lifting a finger himself. But I don’t blame him, those three women could get away with murder and the town would still throw their money at them.”

[realdylanadams]

You have to burn down one well known Dayton establishment. Which do you pick?

“Church. That way Abel can use the insurance money to open up a better cub and I can invest in it and we both can make more money.”

@abelthompson

[masonsgooding]

Michael B. Jordan as Adonis Johnson in Creed II (2018)

[ilove-you-most]

[abelthompson]

he had spotted her from his lounge in vip but he had waited for the girl’s set to be over and his drink to be gone before getting up. abel could be found in two places usually, church or plan b. church was business and while plan b was too, it served more pleasure than anything. lately he hadn’t really been enjoying the dancers as much as he should have been; his mind had been consumed with his old life bubbling to the surface. abel had seen this girl around before. somehow, everyone weaved together from old lives and relationships here in dayton. frankly, he wondered when his own ghosts would show their ugly faces. he didn’t know her name, just that she had been hanging around dylan and shane here and there. she had been spotted at church, here at the club, at dylan’s events. 

curiousity was usually abel to be kept at bay. he knew that kind of shit was dangerous. ignorance to drama was better, safer. the more you knew the more of a liability you became. but if dylan knew her, abel needed to make a point to know her too. 

legs finally moved to the bar, sliding up next to where she sat and ordering a refill of his queen’s cognac. the fact that he loved marissa’s limited edition made him hard. there were very little things he loved more than it. after ordering abel told the bartender to put whatever the brunette had ordered on his tab. “-and what’s next for you? shot of tequila?”

@madisonxwarner​

[abelthompson]

themarissaharrisxn‌:

Marissa’s walls were higher than ever. In the isolation she’d quarantined herself into after the fire, she had sworn never to get close to anyone again. Allowing people in only caused pain, and it never benefited her. What did Delilah ever give to her that caused her to linger so long? There was nothing. Nothing but pain in love. But, fucking damn, Abel caused her to question every single one of those decisions. He was intoxicating, and he was exactly on her level. That was rare. So fucking rare. Shane had told her to stop hanging on ‘what if’s’ so much, but what if Abel gave her all those things money couldn’t buy? What if he was the last piece of her jigsaw. What if they could make a fucking empire?

“Oh, I don’t know about wanting nothing,” she quipped, brow raised with a gentle smirk as she lined up the white ball with the triangle of colors. “There are things even an Amex Black can’t buy…” Riss leaned back, ass up in the air knowing damn well his eyes were on it. Her tongue pushed between her teeth as her eyes narrowed down the sights of the cue. Head tilted to one side and then she pulled back and released sending the white into the others. 

“Mmm,” she mused to his answer. So, he did have some skeletons in his closet. “I don’t know about that, there aren’t many things that catch my breath anymore, honey,” she spoke lightly as if they weren’t fucking flirting around their darkest secrets. She wondered for a moment how he would take her story. She wondered whether he would think any less of her. She wondered whether his skeletons would make her question how close they were becoming. His lips touched her shoulders and, God, if there weren’t other people in this bar she might have let go of a moan. 

The white broke apart the triangle, sending `the balls shooting off in different directions and one stripe managed to find the left corner pocket. “I guess I’m stripes,” she winked before walking back around to the white, lining up a shot and sending a striped ball in the direction of the middle left pocket but missing. “Let’s see what you’ve got, tough guy,” she laughed.

he doubted that someone like marissa could truly want something for free. love was cliche, abel burned too many times to count. hell, the last girl he had truly fell for had cheated and from the looks of her instagram, playing house with the fucker. one slip up and they had a son and she hadn’t lost her ability to slide into abel’s dms after midnight, wishing he’d appease her loneliness. connection? intimacy? those were all filed under weaknesses. liabilities. funny how marissa didn’t seem to fit under those categories. maybe that’s what drew him to her. a moth to a flame so bright that he’d willing to find himself burned to s crisp for it. funny, how things worked.

marissa commanded respect and yet, she floated through her motions as if to be gliding on crystal clear water. it was mesmerizing, the way the curve of her back warped his sense of control. abel could only think of his hands on her and he had to shake his head to get himself to come back to reality as soon as the rack cracked apart. the epitome of sin city, marissa was a siren of a different kind. abel, completely and utterly a lonely sailor.

“i don’t doubt it. we’ve all seen demons.” voice low, eyes moving through the weaved webs of pool balls clanking around the table and crashing into another before rolling into pockets or coming to a halt. nothing she could tell him would phase him, that was a fact. maybe it would humanize her for a moment, let him see what her life had been built on and who she had become to be. but abel’s secrets were harsher. maybe she had seen death and could understand him, maybe she’d run. abel bet she wouldn’t, she didn’t seem like the type to back down from a cold blooded killer - just use him to her advantage. though, the way marissa seemed to be effected just by the simplest of his touch aroused him, his feet somehow continuing to walk as if to keep himself at bay. if he stayed close to her, they wouldn’t get through this game.

he reached to where he had set down his drink and then abel set up his shot, leaning over the edge of the table and shooting the white ball through to the solid yellow. it missed, but barely, abel sighing with a shrug before standing. “you might be getting lucky tonight. didn’t think an honesty game would be your kink but here we are. and don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

[abelthompson]

oricnking‌:

          Lungs expand to inhale the sweet, cool mint of the menthol she currently holds between her lips. Smokin’ isn’t good for you, mama. No, baby, it’s not. Doesn’t mean she’s gonna stop, despite how her fourteen year old feels about it. One foot is cocked up against the brick wall she’s leaning against, knee bent and body lax as she leans back against the brick. It’s early, yet, still another hour before sunrise, but King has always risen with the sun. This time of night is prime time for all the users and abusers out there, though. Prime time for the wanders meandering home from Church’s or whatever other bar they’ve decided to sell their souls to. King doesn’t necessarily care which of the two versions of Dayton’s subterfuge she finds. She’s bored, isn’t supposed to be on duty for an hour, and after the fight she’d just had not hours before, she’s revved. Maybe if she’s lucky, she’ll get someone with a lick of fuckin’ sense and she can move the shit in her pocket and find a good time. Chances of that happening are slim, though. Dayton’s residents leave a lot to be desired, in King’s opinion. “Y’know, if you’re planning on sneaking up on someone, you’re going to have to be a lot quieter than that, love.” King states when she hears the footsteps approach, gaze cocking in their direction.  Her native, Australian tongue isn’t as thick as it’d been fifteen years ago when she moved to the states, but it was still fairly prominent. 

it had been a long night. 

one of those nights at church where it seemed like they had been short staffed but really, it had just been busy. one of those nights where abel had to get behind the bar, help buss tables, and oh yeah, he absolutely did too much blow in his office causing his brain to become scrambled eggs. good thing he had hollis managing, delegating him to the rest of the clean up while the edges of a hazy morning sun threatened to break. he’d find a way to get over his high, smoke a cigarette and for-go driving home. legs brought him to where he was now, inhaling sweet tobacco smoke into lungs that had already seen too much of it that night. abel almost coughed, stirring up a figure from the shadows. 

it had been hard not to chuckle at her, abel shaking his head and tapping off some ash into the darkness. “you never know what could crawl out from the depths of this town. sorry for the spook there, usually i’m must louder when approaching. what’dya doin’ out here anyway? shouldn’t you be gearing up for a fun filled morning at the station? grabbing donuts for all the dickheads pretending to play cops and robbers?” 

[abelthompson]

laneymeadows‌:

she knew how to move, she thanked the years of dance, cheer and gymnastics for how flexible she’d become, but stripping? that was a whole other ball game than a fucking ballet recital. she had to learn how to do more than just shake her ass and bat her lashes. it was a siren’s call, learning how to work with the pole, work on how to keep their attention, making each and every man feel special when in reality. what were they actually? a walking fucking piggy bank with a hard dick and a right hand, or, if they paid enough, she could be their right hand. if there was one thing delaney learned over the years it was this one thing, everything came with a price. apparently, the price of her set was assholes like this dickhead who decided he could touch her without payin’ a dime. 

respect was lost, and her respect? well that was one thing that you couldn’t buy back the moment it’d been lost with her. fuck, it was something she lost way too many fucking time before. sapphire hues rake over the man, long lashes fluttering as he stands, knees cooked almost as if he’s ready to fucking run, and apparently, he should. “don julio, platinum – i’m more of a tequila typa’ girl. the entire fuckin’ bottle, ” the country accent is strong as her eyes set on the man who’s ripped his grasp off her wrist, shoving it back to his side before looking back at the pathetic excuse of a human being who stands before, her lip quirking into a smirk as she shakes her head. “that’s for dylan. as far as the champagne room? not enough money in the fuckin’ world, could get me to make this fucker’s wet dream come alive. someone else can take em’,” and it’s almost as if the nickname’s the final straw as her eyebrows perk, eyes turning back to… well fuck, she had to admit the beautiful idiot standing in front of her, putting on her best forced smile that she could muster. “the name’s angel, darlin’ or at least, that’s what they call me.”

the corner of his mouth twitched with delight at her commands, abel nodding to the man right after. “you heard her. the entire thing.” abel welcomed the power move on her part, always interested in how dylan’s girls’ dealings with shady patrons. the rules were simple and clear. more money, more privileges. he wondered if this pretty blonde with an accent that gave her away to not being from around here, knew the status abel held in the club. he hadn’t seen her in the building long, but if he knew dylan the way he thought, she would have set her straight from the beginning. no dancer went rogue here and if they did? they had to answer. 

he had to respect her, a shrug of his shoulders offering a little but if peace. “i’ll get his name from the bartender and slap him on a short ban list. for a week or two, see if he’s learned his lesson. i’d ask if you’re okay but from the look of it, i think you’ve got this handled.” and then, it donned on him that no, she hadn’t known who abel was and that was rare. abel needed to take advantage of that, didn’t he? opportunities like this only came his way every so often. “angel,” he repeated, eyes shamelessly raking over her body while taking the tiniest step back for a better view. “living up to your name, i see. you’re just missing your wings.”

[abelthompson]

bethanyrob95‌:

Beth had spent a long day unpacking her few belongings in her new, tiny studio apartment. She had spent little time exploring her new home, and all of her time at the hospital or unpacking her things. The blonde loved the location of her apartment. It was right near The Grind which quickly became her new favorite coffee shop. She was excited to finally be able to take a break and head out for a run. What she really needed to find was a gym. She hadn’t gone this long without a gym membership in a while and running just didn’t hit the same as lifting weights. Tying her shoelaces, she headed down the stairs of her apartment building and set her FitBit to “Run”. She took a deep breath as she opened the door before starting into a light jog. She would do this for 2 miles before finding herself in a part of time she was unfamiliar with. She stopped in her tracks before looking around her to try to find anything that looked vaguely familiar. She sighed, knowing that she got too lost in her music that she wasn’t keeping track of where she was going. She pulled out her phone. 1%. Fuck. Looking around her, she tried to find someone who could help her. “Excuse me, can you help me? I’m new here and kind of lost.” she said, with a small frown. 

a blonde with full cheeks and a seemingly exasperated expression interrupted a call he had been on while making his way down the street. abel didn’t usually like to be bothered, just generally, though he had grown accustomed to the people of dayton’s strange ability to become friendly within a moments notice. no one in chicago ever stopped to ask him for anything and even if they had, he probably would have told them to fuck off. “-yeah listen rodge, i’ll call you back when i’m in the office...”

abel ended the call with a huff, looking around the block with the hopes that someone, anyone, would come and relieve him from helping this girl. but of course, it was just the two of them standing on the corner the block. which, being the ass that he was, abel found himself pointing to the street markers. “thomas and and hickory. where are you tryna get to?” abel tried to not assume anything, though it was easy to see that she had been in some sort of exercise mode. or maybe she truly breaking a sweat from trying to find her way home, who knew. eyes glanced down at her hands holding a phone, but there must have been a reason for her not be using it. “lose charge or something?”