Heavyweight

Joshua 'Bern' Bernard, 32, Former Boxer, Gym Owner

[jberncrd]

I A I N :

“Hey, don’t count yourself out, boyo—I could probably at least get a couple pounds from the Daily Mail.  Those dossers will take anyone, relevance level be damned.”  He teased, although from the small amount of things he knew about Bern, he didn’t think relevance would be something the man particularly cared about.  As he spoke, the man returned to his work, and began wiping down the counter on his side of the bar, finding it surprising just how much of a mess he had made since last wiping it down, only a mere hour or two ago. “Everyone’s got secrets, Bern.  I may not know a lot of things, but that one I know is a definite.”  He never thought of himself as a man who would have secrets, but here he was, three years deep into one. 

Brow raised at the other man as he fought to keep his expression serious almost bordering betrayed, despite the mild amusement that threatened to show. “Now what have I ever done to you? Put me in that toilet paper with everyone who tries to cling to relevancy.” Tut of disapproval was given, not dissimilar to the one his mother made. “Thought we were closer than that.” Sip of his drink was taken before he shook his head. “I disagree. I’m an open book.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie when it came to facts about his life, there was nothing he was particularly ashamed of. Feelings however were another matter entirely and he supposed he did have something of a habit of keeping those close to his chest. Admitting that defeated his point though as well as being far too deep of an insight into his psyche. 

[jberncrd]

M A R Y :

With some effort, Mary wriggled back into her seat, Jameson bottle still in hand. She twisted, not with alarm or guilt, but with curiosity; she hadn’t recognized the voice, so it hadn’t been Iain, yet someone who clearly disapproved of her actions. Which wasn’t the weirdest thing in the world, but when she’d cast a glance around earlier she hadn’t realized there’d be people watching her. She recognized him, though, had watched him earlier when she’d had lunch. “Not really, no,” Mary said with a wry smile, an eyebrow raised. Where was the fun in coming clean straight away? Of course she’d had the impulse to, but… Mary was good at acting contrary to what was best for her. The situation was precarious, she knew that, but that’s what made it all the more fun. “O, you’re pretty sure, are ya? But do ye know?”

For a moment he regrets intervening, immediately thinking he was both too old and too tired to deal with the antics of a girl who barely looked old enough to drink let alone steal some. But he knows it’s the right thing to do when he’s not convinced that she does actually work there. In any situation like this he’d step up when he thought something wrong was happening but the fact that it carried weight for a friend too made him all the more steadfast. The look in his eye only grew more steely, voice hardening once more. “I think you should reconsider.” He briefly glanced around the end of the bar, wondering if Iain would appear to clear all of it up before he had to do anything too drastic. “Maybe not but what waitress would lean over the bar instead of go behind it.”

[jberncrd]

A M I R A :

In the month since arriving home, Amira had taken a quick 180.  She assumed all old friends would be excited to welcome her home, with open arms, wanting to hear of her adventures.  What she hadn’t been expecting was the outright radio silence in response to reaching out, or the lackluster excuses.  It had taken her a a week or two to realize exactly what was going on.  They were ghosting her.  And she deserved it, because what was she if not the ultimate ghost?  She had left her friends with scant more than a quick goodbye for disappearing for years on end, only interrupting with faint hauntings in which they met for coffee or tea and Amira regaled them about her life, barely pausing for long enough to hear about theirs, before leaving again.  So, she was on a mission to make amends, starting with one of her oldest friends.  She had been excited to hear back from Bern, almost more excited that other responses she had gotten.  It had just been so incredibly long.  The woman’s face lit up in a glowing smile as she saw his form walk through the door.  As he stood in front of her, Amira couldn’t help but rise from her seat and give the man a hug.  There was just something about his steadfast personality that made Amira feel secure, something she was missing desperately these days.  Relinquishing him from the hug but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “And that’s my fault. – How are you, Bern?” she questioned, and for the first time in a while, genuinely wanting to know the answer.

Relationships had never been something that he had consciously shunned as much as they were something that fell at the bottom of his list of priorities. Over the years he’d come to respect that most women would never settle for the spot in his life that he tended to place them in and he had mostly stopped looking when he figured he still had time yet. He’d still dated here or then when he’d felt like it and Amira was one of the few that had lasted more than a couple of weeks. Initially he’d thought it some sort of miracle that she hadn’t faded away after watching him fight or given up waiting for him to have time for her in between his arduous training routine and his family. But then she eventually had. At the time it hadn’t so much been hurt he’d felt but disappointment and maybe just a little bit stupid that he’d thought he was different. But now it was almost ten years on and it was one of those things he’d learned to let go and be at relative peace with. So while the hug takes him by surprise, he returns it out of a spark of genuine affection. Even if they were no longer dating it hadn’t gotten to the place where he’d stopped caring about her entirely. “And is this you trying to make up for it?” Amused smirk tugged at the edge of his lips as he sat down, considering her question for a moment when it felt almost impossible to summarise so much time. “Good, business is booming, my family’s healthy. Can’t complain.” He shrugged, never one to elaborate too much on his own life. “You need a drink?”

[jberncrd]

V A L E N T I N E :

There was a lot of faraway sounds that Val could tune out as he worked on edits, listening to the gentle scrape of forks, cups being placed on saucers. Coffeeshops were usually his preferred space to work, if not his own flat where he could light up a blunt and smoke on the balcony. But there was a peaceful quiet, one earpod in, listening to his assistant reading the text they’d laid down a few days ago and sighing. Despite the tranquil space, he couldn’t focus as well as he wanted to. After a moment, he tugged the earpod out and felt for his iced mocha, leaning back with a release of air. “This fuckin’ sucks.” He mumbled, running a hand through his messy curls. “Remind me why I write for a living when I hate hearin’ my own words spoken back t’me?” He laughed, shaking his head. He took a sip from the straw, shaking his head. “I need t’take some time off.”

He’d thought his luck was in when there had been one lone table free in the coffee shop, just in time for him to grab his lunch in relative peace before he got back to work. And it wasn’t so much that he suddenly felt unlucky when the person next to him started talking, more that he hadn’t planned to be particularly talkative - not that he ever really was. Still, if there was one thing his mother had done ( a false statement when he knew she had done so much ) it was teach him some manners and so he acknowledged their words with some of his own. “Doesn’t get any better or easier.” One of his coach’s favourite tactics when he still boxed had been videoing his fights and making him watch them back over and over. He didn’t have the same aversion to his on voice but he could imagine the feeling was pretty similar. “Don’t we all.” Huff of laughter left him when he was well aware he was too attached to his own job. “Where would you go?”  

[jberncrd]

E D I S O N :

Edison didn’t make a habit of dolling out tantalizing headlines. He didn’t dislike the press, they served their function, but it was the odd outlier that popped up when he wasn’t at a game or other football function that usually dampened his mood. This individual was no different. “Do you think you not ever having played a game in your life has an adverse affect on your ownership of the Spurs?” They pressed, notebook & pen ready to jot down his answer. The question struck him as condescending right off the bat. Had a cup, not won in the last decade, literally not counted for a single thing?

Edison’s answer came sharply. If it had been given at a press event or an official interview it would’ve been delivered with more eloquence, but he tended not to have an abundance of patience when harassed in public. “Good enough?” He asked, finally casting his glance sideways to look at the woman addressing him as he continued down the cobble stoned main drag. “If you’ll excuse me,” Edison excused himself tonelessly as he took a sharp left & pulled open the door to a pub. It hadn’t been his destination, but it seemed the best way to ditch his clinger-on, though he half figured she might follow him inside. To his delight - she did not. Gathering the front of his coat by the lapels, Edison pulled it closer around himself as he cast a disparaging glance around the pub, though it had more to do with the inconvenience than it had to do with the place itself or the clientele. “I’ll have Macallan - please. Eighteen if you’ve got it.” He flashed the barkeep a smile as he drummed his fingers on the ancient bartop. A cup of breakfast tea sounded better, but he refused to come off like a prat again for the next couple of hours.

Work never really took a toll on him when he knew he had a good thing going. He’d spent some time soul searching for what he could do to give back to the community that had helped him grow into the man that he was today, and helping keep kids on the right track had seemed like a pretty good way to start. With his dedicated staff that he could trust to maintain the gyms and everyone’s new obsession with keeping fit, it seemed as though nothing could go wrong. Despite that he was never complacent and unafraid to put the hours in to ensure things were running as they should. Even though he enjoyed his work and found it satisfying, it didn’t reduce the temptation for a drink at the end of the day. 

As he savoured his own whisky, it seemed apparent to him that the man who had just joined him to order his own Scotch did seem to need the alcohol. It wasn’t exactly something he could relate to when work was more therapeutic than it was stressful for him, however it wasn’t too hard to imagine it either. There was something naggingly familiar about the other man and while he ruled out him being in the boxing world too, there was something ringing a bell with him when it came to sport. Brow raised slightly as he posed his question, tone neutral enough when there would be no offence taken if he got a brusque answer. “Long day?”

[jberncrd]

L O R E L E I :

Everytime she was joined by her daughter, Lorelei tried to be as correct as she could, living by the book. She wanted to give her the best example. However, when she wasn’t around, she wasn’t always doing things right. As she drove back from the University to her home, a new email arrived to her inbox. She tried to ignore it, but couldn’t, so she drove with her phone in her hand as she replied it. A minute later, she felt something odd on the rear, which quickly became an issue. She threw her phone to the co-driver seat, trying to hold into the wheel, but she couldn’t avoid it and lost control of her car. 

She braced herself for impact, her arms close to her head, her eyes closed. She finally opened them back again when she felt the car had stopped, inches away from the wall of the nearest corner. She had been lucky to not had hit anyone or anything. Lorelei got out of her Subaru, still shaking, to see the rear left tyre destroyed. “Shit…”, she mumbled to herself.

One moment he’d been in the middle of a phonecall with his publicist, having to reiterate for what felt like the dozenth time what he would and wouldn’t do. The next he was watching a car veer towards a wall, looking set for impact. “Shit.” It was a situation he didn’t think he’d seen happen outside of films but he knew instantly that he wasn’t out to stand around and not help, and for that he needed his publicist out his ear so he could concentrate fully on whatever was needed from him. “I’ll call you back.”

Pressing to end the call, he jogged over to where the car had come to rest. “You okay?” The words had came out bluntly and without thinking when he was keen to know what was needed from him in the situation. It only dawned on him moments later that the blonde was probably less than okay in the aftermath of an almost accident, so he rephrased his question. “Are you hurt?”

[jberncrd]

With yet another event looming, this time with a different dress code to the last, he had taken an afternoon off to go and buy himself something new. Generally he had a pretty good eye himself after having worn a suit more often than not in the last couple of years but on this occasion he was torn. Unsure of which would suit the dress code best, he knew that he would need another opinion to help him settle on a choice. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that the sales assistant was still wrapped up in another customer, so instead he turned his attention to whoever was nearest to him. “You any good at picking these things out?”

@atlasxtaylor

[jberncrd]

Always a firm believer that a change was as good as a rest, he’d taken a break from looking at the figures from his gyms to visit a couple of them instead. Nothing was ever perfect and he knew that his business needed to keep evolving and there was nothing like a visit from their boss to keep staff on their toes. With two down and the aim to get around two more before he went home, he knew he’d need something to keep himself going. So he’d stopped to grab a quick coffee only to find a static queue that seemed to say it’d be anything but fast. Sigh slipped from his lips and he glanced around, speaking to whoever had come up behind him. “Looks like we might be here a while.”

@4thquentin-dvenport

[jberncrd]

Receiving the text had come as something of a surprise when he’d considered himself to be nothing but a memory to Amira now.Or at least that was the impression that their lack of contact over the last few years had given him. But he’d never been the type to hold grudges - not when it was so easy for people to lose touch when they had different goals - and in truth he couldn’t help but still be curious about what she’d been up to in the time since they’d last seen one another.  So he’d found himself at the bar she’d recommended, spotting her in a quieter corner of the place before he headed over. “It’s been a while.” It felt like he was stating the obvious or maybe even making some kind of dig but in reality he just wasn’t sure what other kind of greeting he was supposed to give when it was all new territory to him. 

@amira-collins​

[jberncrd]

M A R Y :

The cat had gone away, and Mary, ever the mouse, had decided to play. Her visit to Iain’s workplace had been a means so as not to have lunch all by her lonesome, though she’d ended up staying much longer – and with an almost empty bar this time of day, Mary realized she could have herself some fun. The moment Iain vanished into the back, she heaved herself up on the bar and leaned over, hair a cascade reaching for the floor as she surveyed the bar’s interior, looking for just the right thing to nick. She wriggled forward, legs now waving wildly as she tried to keep her balance. With a grin she spotted a Jameson bottle, and just as her fingers closed around its neck, a noise behind her made her startle so hard she almost dropped it. 

Even if he hadn’t been friend’s with the bartender he was pretty sure that the Wolfhound would have become a favourite of his eventually. There was something about the almost anonymity there as well as the air of community it had that drew him back, reminding him of the pubs that he had gone to growing up. He’d been passing the time with Iain before work had inevitably pulled the other man away, leaving him sat by himself quietly sipping his scotch. At least it was quiet until he saw an unfamiliar brunette reaching over the bar. Not recognising her, he’d risen to his feet when he wasn’t about to let the place get robbed. “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to be back there.” Voice was steady but tone was firm, fixing the young woman with a hard look. “You want to put that back?”

[jberncrd]

E L I J A H :

It was an undeniable truth that his siblings could convince EJ to do just about anything. Admittedly, it helped that what he was getting roped into was helping his mother, but, well, he would’ve done whatever, his stubborn streak long since stopping with his family. Still, who would he be if he didn’t complain about it a bit? “How’d we end up doing the heavy lifting? Personally, I feel like this should’ve been included in the cost of refurbishments,” he huffed, wiping sweat from his forehead. They’d been at it for the better half of the morning, and though Elijah had moved plenty of times in his life, he never seemed to remember just how much effort it took - or maybe he’d just never owned as much stuff. “Hell if I know, and I’m not about to go through all of them. Where does she keep all this stuff?”

Brow raised at his brother’s complaints, usually neutral expression that little more telling when he was around his family. And right now he was playing at being unimpressed. “Because Mum asked us to.” The words are said simply, accompanied by a loose shrug as though he didn’t need to say anymore. Except, when it was his brother he always did. “Labour of love.” Huff of laughter leaves him when he never had been quite sure where she found space for everything - the amount of boxes they’d already packed seemed like they shouldn’t be able to fit in the whole building let alone one room. “You think I know? She’s been an expert at making space work for as long as I can remember.” Glancing around, he couldn’t help but reminisce slightly at how much work their mother had done turning the small house into a home that had always felt like it held endless posibilities. “Swear this place has got hollow walls.”

[jberncrd]

He had never really been one for sitting behind a desk, despite what his business degree might say about him. Running the gyms from an office had never appealed to him and he liked to think that part of the attraction to his places was the fact that he stopped by at least once a fortnight to pay them attention himself. Doing his rounds he spotted a somewhat familiar man, coming to a stop as he neared him. He had long since learnt that immediately telling people they were wrong never went down well and so instead he posed a question. “You’re looking pretty good there. You want some pointers?”

@mascnknight

[jberncrd]

With Mother’s Day fast approaching and his schedule looking busy ( with the exception of the day itself when he would never not take time off for her ) he had decided to rope his siblings in to help him with the current family project. Their mother had refused to move despite his offer of a new home so instead a compromise had been made where he’d pay for much needed refurbishments. He had begun to pack stuff away and move it to the rooms that weren’t getting done immediately, persuading his brother to help him too. “Do you know what Mum’s got in all these boxes?”

@ejcksn​

[jberncrd]

I A I N :

Iain always did like when acquaintances would randomly stop in, it made slow nights such as these move at least a little faster.  Even if he wasn’t particularly close with them, or hell, even liked them, talking to someone he knew had a way to make the endless tedious chores of being a barkeep seem a little less so.  “Aye, Bernard, I just stand here, askin’ for people to tell me their stories, to pass the time until you grace us with your presence.”  He replied, ending with that well known ‘ach’ scoffing sound that all Scots and Irishmen seem to have mastery of.  Before the man could even ask, Iain was already pouring him a finger of the scotch he favored, setting it down before him deftly.  “Ach, what a shame.  I was really hopin’ to learn all your deep dark secrets.  Sell ‘em to the press and what not.”

He wasn’t a man who was prone to huge bouts of laughter or wide smiles but he wasn’t entirely immune to humour either. The Irishman’s words caused a huff of laughter to leave his lips, shoulder squaring slightly to make himself seem that little more cocky. “Of course you do.” Head shook at his next statement, never really believing in his own star quality or that the interest people had taken in him after the Olympics had really been sustained. “Doubt they’d get you very much, I’m old news now.” Grateful half-smile was given as his drink was put down in front of him, picking up the glass and leaving it hovering by his mouth as he spoke again. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve got anything that deep or that dark.” He wasn’t exactly an open book, preferring to keep most things to himself when he valued privacy, but he also didn’t shrink from who he was. There was nothing in his past he was ashamed of 

[jberncrd]

N O A H :

Having received the text message, Noah had just arrived home from work. He’d figured he would only send a reply back as soon as he had changed into less formal wear – he hardly wanted to scare of the regular patrons of the bar by showing up in his blues. It had been a while since he’d seen Bern, and he never turned down an outing if drinks were involved. He shot him a quick ‘Be right there mate’ When he stepped onto the docks and made his way to the aforementioned bar. He hoped they had something to eat there as well, because he was starving. Taking out his phone again, he typed a quick ‘order me some shepherd’s pie and chips as well if they have it?’ and pressing send. It was definitely a better option than the Chinese leftovers he had in his fridge. Arriving to the bar, he gave his friend a nod of acknowledgement, making way to the empty seat beside him, grabbing hold of the scotch as it slid towards him over the smooth surface of the bar “Well I never do say no to the good stuff.” Noah chuckled, shrugging out of his seat. “How’re you doing, bud? Long time no see.” 

With his friend’s order placed - a grudging text messaged sent back despite how willing he was to do it - as well as his own, he’d had some time to kill before Noah arrived. There had been temptation to go through work emails but he knew that as soon as he started that, he wouldn’t be able to finish. So instead he had people watched somewhat, at other points passing pleasantries with the bartender when they weren’t busy. But before too long his friend arrived, smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he replied. “Be a bad choice if you ever did.” Taking a sip of his own drink he replied to the question. “Just the usual.” Broad shoulders shrugged and had it been anyone else, he might have chosen not to elaborate but there was enough of a bond with Noah that he wanted to at least attempt openness. “Business is good, keeping busy with the gyms and the odd foundation. You?”

[jberncrd]

C E L E S T E :

Celeste had wanted for everything to go perfectly, but the longer the night seemed to go on the more her anxiety went up. While most hadn’t noticed the tiny little flaws they were glaring to her right now. Standing with her clipboard as she took a survey of the room and tried to figure out what to fix first. Writing little notes down on her paper and she looked up when she heard a voice. “I’m sorry what did you say?” She asked, she pushed her mask up slightly to prevent it from falling down further. “Are you looking for a certain room? I can help you find it?” She offered before they could even get a word out as she turned to point towards the staircase that lead up to the different rooms. 

It was far from the first time he had attended such events but he would be lying if he said that this one carried that little bit extra weight with it. By this point in the evening he had usually spotted Celeste but with her busy hosting, there hadn’t been a moment for him to congratulate her on the evening. It was the first time he’d seen her work in action and he was keen to pay her the compliments she deserved. Finally, he spotted the familiar brunette, a smile tugged at his lips as she spoke almost on autopilot. “No directions needed, I’ve found what I was looking for.” Gaze shifted from her to take in the room once more, knowing that it was possibly one of the most intricate events he’d ever been to. Usually it was all dinners and speeches. “You’ve put on a great night.”

[jberncrd]

Though his preference lay firmly with a scotch or a beer, neither seemed quite right to have with such a well put together dinner. It was too early for scotch and he’d always been told that it was wine that paired best with fine dining. So his order was placed for a bottle of red wine, far from the first time he’d made such a decision when as proud as he was of where he’d came from he never liked to stick out like a sore thumb. As he took a sip from his newly acquired drink - a red he wasn’t all that familiar with - he spoke to no one in particular. “Better than I thought it would be.”

@ceryskj