there’d been a lull in his shift, long enough for him to pull out his so-called ‘findings’ for the day: a few wallets and a beach bag erroneously left on his watch. ill placed trust. he’d been trying to make left or right out of what looked to be a Rolex when he heard the entrance door open and shut. turning, not even bothering to hid his findings, cainan looked to the doorway and the person standing there with a half-smile fixed across his features. “welcome to my office.” he stood taller, gesturing with his free hand around the bar, and towards the copious amounts of empty stools. the usual crowd seemed a bit delayed this evening. “anything you looking for in particular? or... you just here to see me?” cainan asked, almost trying to lead as he added on, lifting his chin, a cocky grin in company.
* jaime lorente, cismale + he/him | you know cainan granch fletcher, right? they’re twenty-six, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, two years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to take what you want by post malone like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole unopened letters cluttering a dresser drawer, the rise of cigarette smoke just before it falls away with the wind, and an old familial ring weighing heaviest on stealthy hands thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 19th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered.
TRIGGER WARNING: death mention, jail mention
hello hello! the last two days got away from me but finally here is cainan’s intro. apologies if it is sporadic. i’m reworking an old character. if you have any questions please ask! also hi i am dew :)
cainan wasn’t born out of love, rather out of lust. timothy granch and marta clemente were never supposed to be anything more than simple fun. but nevertheless cainan entered the picture and so they tried to make the most of it. they tried to make a family... if you could call it that.
mom was really the sole caretaker. cainan’s dad was always off with his latest ‘get rich’ scheme. it wasn’t always illicit activities, just mostly. that and a gamble or three. cainan figured out soon enough that he didn’t really have a dad, not really.
DEATH TW - cainan was in eighth grade when his mother passed away. hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. sudden. unexpected. and wildly unfair. he’d been lucky enough not to have been the one to find her. not that that had made it hurt any less. cainan imagines it all would have hurt the same due to one solitary fact: he never got to say goodbye.
and like the top-notch parent that he was, timothy granch strayed further away after marta passed. didn’t always have to be the physical distance, sometimes it was like he was just clocking in as dad. picking up his hours as a fatherly figure before he could dash off again to the life he wanted.
at the time, living in chicago, they’d been fortunate enough to have a caring neighbor in the apartment next door. lou fletcher. a wrinkled old man with the thickest accent for miles. he acted as a pseudo-father for him. he was the one that bought him his first legal drink when he turned twenty-one, gave him a tongue-lashing the night cainan got caught sneaking into wrigley field, and the reason he picked up a love for poker. it’s why he stopped going by granch and started saying his last name was fletcher.
JAIL TW - it wasn’t until his dad got incarcerated that he seemed to give a shit. phone calls? ignored. letters? left unopened and shoved into his dresser drawer. the one thing he held onto was that damn ring. “it was my father’s,” tim had said, beaming with pride at the gift. cainan never knew if the story was real or fake, if the ring had really just been snagged off some poor unfortunate in the subway or if his dad was telling the truth. though, even if it was a lie it was the only one cainan refused to let go off. the last bit of granch he held onto.
and despite his feelings about his father, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. cainan blamed circumstance. i mean, rent had to be paid and, well, wage at the local pizza shop wasn’t fucking cutting it. he started by stealing in stores, mostly what he needed and then what he wanted. soon he got pretty good at picking pockets. then he just sunk further in.
as a kid he had moved around a lot. mostly cities. chicago was the longest stint. but moving to irving was a big shift. lou had family from the area, suggested it. it was meant to be a new start. clean slate. the whole idea of being on the straight and narrow... but patterns were hard to change and tourists were just too easy a target.
aside from his more risky behaviors, cainan gets an actual paycheck bartending. it’s a good way to meet people/clients/targets, not to mention a generally good time. sometimes a few free drinks his way go unnoticed, only just once a bottle. lied about that one too well to his manager.
very into tattoos. they’re a way for him to be vulnerable without having to be outright with it. the ink does a better job at saying his feeling than his words do.
he’s an accidental cat father. she just kept showing up on his fire escape. night one, he figured she was just curious but by the third he said fuck it and let her inside. she’s never left since. three guesses on why he named her socks.
wears rings a lot, not just his family one.
definitely has a cocky air about himself, but mostly because he’s had to stand on his own two feet for so long so he has a sense of pride with that, and knowing what he’s capable of. so in turn he doesn’t take a liking to people making incorrect assumptions. assume away, just be accurate about it.
there is 100% more but i’ve been writing this for like 2 hours now so i’m going to leave it here. like i said above, please ask away for more!
CONNECTIONS WISE → very open. come at me. love him, love me.
maybe i’ll come up with some more official ones tomorrow but for now brain = fried.
