"Some people don’t realize how little time they get to enjoy that freedom. They waste it and then suddenly, boom, all that’s left is dealing with the world. This is true though. It’s the same with old houses. Even if it’s all cleaned up there’s still that spirit there, those stories. -Violet. Nice to meet you."
Some people are so fixated on growing up and have a life like that they don't realize what they're throwing away and desperately want it back but know they can't get it back. True, and with older houses often the architecture of such houses is different than today and tells a story in it's own right. It's a pleasure Violet.
"Exactly. Guess it’s like going out in a blaze of glory before settling down. Glad to know someone doesn’t think I sound like a lunatic. Older cars, anything with history in general I guess, tells some kind of story. I like that. It was one of our, uh, fewer hobbies that I liked. He never taught me anything that wasn’t useful so I can appreciate that."
Their last chance to act like that before they are forced into the real world and have to deal with the issues of the real world. Not at all, there are worse things you could say to actually sound like a lunatic. And there can be stories deep in them from the people who owned them, the adventures they went on, the things they did. Well it's good to hear he taught you something you like and still like. Cars are always going to need to be worked on, so it's a useful skill. I don't think we've met before, I'm Isaac, and you are?
"Something like that. A right of passage into the downward spiral of adulthood. You look at a car made ten years ago and it’s trashed but look at one made forty, fifty years ago and it’s in great condition half the time. They’ve got a better…spirit. As dumb as that probably sounds. Yeah he did. Said they were ‘tougher than all these new age sissy cars put together’."
Adulthood, though some people even after still deny adulthood. Also for some kind of commitment, like marriage, a lot of bachelor and bachelorette parties are in Vegas. Taken care of they can even look in the same shape, if not better than they did when they first came out. I don't think it sounds dumb, there's more craft and soul in them when they were created. Well you seemed to have enjoyed that with him.
"It’s definitely a good escape that’s for sure. Even if it’s just a temporary one. Do you prefer old cars then? Or finding pieces of junk and fixing them up? I don’t know much about newer cars but the older ones my dad taught me a lot about."
Though some people tend to make it a permanent one. Besides, everyone needs to visit Las Vegas once in their life, right? I will say that I tend to like older cars better, I mean new cars are nice and all but just not the same feel and they're usually not built to last like older ones. Your father was into older cars?
Isaac doesn't wear a watch anymore, because if he did all he would spend doing in the day is looking at it. Counting each second as it passes, counting each minute as it passes, and counting each hours as it passes. He would become obsessed, compelled to look at it continuously. A second would not go by that he wouldn't think about it. If he looked away for just one inch of a second his mind would force him to look back. He would stand there idly, eyes intent on each tick and tock, eyes never leaving, body still, breathing rhythmic.
The watch would never leave his arm. He wouldn't take it off to shower, he wouldn't take off when he sleeps, he wouldn't take it off for anything. He would turn into his own version of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. If you tried to take the watch away, he would pull his arm back, shielding the watch from prying eyes. A hiss or a growl would escape his lips and depending on how close you had gotten to it would decide if he went into a hunched position balancing himself on the balls of his feet. In sense, he would become a modern day Gollum and the watch, well that would become his precious. And he would fight you if you tried to take his precious away.
Sometimes his fingers instinctively move back the sleeve of his jacket to look at his left wrist. And when they do, they don't find a watch there, but a small simple bracelet. It's made of leather, or well fake leather, his name written in scrawl on the underside next to his skin. It's tied neatly on his wrist and would require either tweezers or very sharp nail to even untie it. It would be too much a of a hassle to take it off and Isaac doesn't care too anyways. Isaac was never one for jewelry. He didn't care for those kinds of embellishments, but this one. This bracelet was the exception because Alexa had given it too him and it now meant so much more to him than his little sister realized.
Alexa had given it to him years ago, when he had first moved out of their childhood home. His family was doing well and were more secure in their finances without his help. And because of that Isaac and his parents he decided it was time. Time for him to go out and be on his own. Time for him to live by himself, find his own life, and do whatever he pleased. So he had moved out, but it probably hadn't been what his parents expected. They had expected him to move far away, to seek new life and adventure maybe even out of state. But that hadn't been the case for Isaac. He had never really had many friends and the person he had been closest to was his sister, so he moved only but a city away, within small driving distance if he ever needed to get back home. Back then he hadn't liked the idea of cutting himself completely off from his family.
The day he packed up his things and moved out was when Alexa gave it to him. A little grey colored box in her petite fingers. She had forced the box into his hands when he murmured that she hadn't needed get him anything. Inside was the bracelet and Isaac rose his eyebrow when he saw it. Even still, even now, he didn't know where his sister had gotten the bracelet, it wasn't expensive but with her allowance he had thought something like this above her budget. When he asked, she always moved one of her fingers along her lips to signify that her lips were sealed and locked and that she wouldn't tell.
Isaac had reluctantly accepted it and had even gotten her to tie it onto his wrist which had lit up his sister's eyes when he asked. But now that bracelet meant more than a silly little gift she had given him when he had moved out. Now it was the last thing he would let himself keep of her.
He hated having to distance himself. He hated this. He hated how he knew he could nothing in his life anymore. He had to lie to them. To the people he loved and trusted the most because he couldn't let them know. He couldn't share burden he had opted for to save her life and get his parents out of debt. He hated the secrecy but found it preferable to the truth.
And most of all he hated how limited he feels. Less than five years left of his existence on Earth before his soul is given to that woman. Before she comes for him, dragging him to wherever she pleases. Each day is a day marked off on the calendar. Each second is one he loses to inevitability. He's afraid that each moment that goes by is a moment wasted and even when he does something he feels great about or loves, there's a thought in the back of his mind of that each thing he does is wasting time.
He can't live how he wants, he can't do what he wants, because he knows that time is fragile and fickle to him. That he doesn't have all the time in the world to do as pleases. In a city like Las Vegas with so much opportunity, he finds that to do any of it would just be another waste. He often finds himself somewhere or at home, just with his guitar, ironically wasting the time he has just by playing music. He wants not to waste time, but he does it anyways.
Hypocrite.
Maybe it's a good thing he doesn't make friends so easily. Because then he doesn't have to worry about making any connections that will hurt him in the end. He won't have to worry about anyone missing him, he won't have to worry about someone being hurt of his death. The world will go on as it always does and the emotional causalities of his death will be down to only a few considering if and when his family realizes that he is really gone and not coming back. Even one day they will get over it, one day they'll grieve, the next they'll move on with their lives as always. The pain will die away and so will the memory of Isaac Elijah Barrett.
And so Isaac sets himself up for loneliness. And it's nothing he truly wants. But it's safe. It's easier. And less painful in the end.
"Blend in and get lost. Makes it seem like everyone here’s running from something, doesn’t it? I guess as long as it runs that’s what counts. What do you drive now?"
It's often hard to find someone in a city with population larger than a small country. People who tend to settle here often are, it seems. As long as it gets you where you need it go and back. Umm, an old '69 Chevy Chevelle. Black, a little rough around the edges, but it runs pretty great and I keep it in good condition.
"Standing out in Vegas can be a bit difficult if you ask me. I think a lot of people prefer it that way though. Junker’s are sort of my specialty, it’d be nice to have a car that doesn’t have the potential to explode every time I turn it on though."
True, a city with so many people and so many crazy antics, makes Las Vegas a good place for people who just want to blend in. It's a good city to get lost in. My first car was definitely a junker, I was always worried if it was going to start or not whenever I tried to turn it on.
"Rather blend in then? That’s exactly why I was just looking. I’m probably more in the market range of something made before I was born that hardly runs."
Something like that. I would prefer it didn't stand out like that of a vibrant color. I prefer a color that's a bit classier. I can understand that, more of in the range of something that looks like a junker but if you take care of it, it should last.
First nothing broken, can't have him suing you or me for that. He'll need bruises, probably a black eye, maybe a limp in one of his legs where he has to walk with a cane. Umm.. one of his ears cut off.. kidding on that one!
jacobvanloon
tangentwithtanner
dailybridgerton
stormborns
origamiaround
romaincrisis
