Santiago Alvarez || Forty || Just trying to get by
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@santi-alvarez
Santiago Alvarez || Forty || Just trying to get by
introduction. & pinterest. & connections. & musings. & tasks.
elenaalvarez:
—
Elena shook her head. “It’s a small town, smaller than Charleston where everyone there knew everyone — people don’t even have to know me to know what happened,” she spoke, not wanting to talk about it despite knowing that he must have known anyways. She’d shown up in Bradford for him at the same time that she was supposed to be on her honeymoon with Eric. If he couldn’t connect the dots, then Elena was sure that someone else would do it for him. “It’s something, for sure. But it still took me ages to find you again.” So however small the town was, it’d managed to keep at least one secret from her when she glanced back at Santi. “How long have you been back?” Or had he been there the entire time that she’d been waiting for him to resurface and left her in the dark.
“It’s a job, that’s all. One that I’m actually okay at,” she defended slightly, because she couldn’t have imagined working there a few years back after going to college for something that her parents would have been proud of rather than working behind a bar. But she wouldn’t be able to handle if Santi thought less of her because of it.
— ☄️ —
It may be something of an exaggeration to think Charleston was a small town by any means, but she made a valid point - everyone had always been up in everyone else’s business. Perhaps that was because Santiago had managed to throw himself into the dramatic spotlight at a rather young age. But it had been among the many reasons why Santi had escaped that pit as soon as he could.
Clearly no matter where he ran to, he’d eventually end up right back where he started, one way or the other. Perhaps it was the human condition. Everyone wanted to be up in everyone else’s business. Anything that proved more interesting than their own fucked up lives. But maybe he’d been left out of it. Maybe, this time, Elena was the only one with the problem.
Yeah, that seemed unlikely. But then again, he wasn’t the one who ran away from his own wedding now was he?
“Ah - I uh, not so long. You were my first stop.” Granted, he wasn’t aiming to actually see her, but that was irrelevant at this point. “Please, Lena. I’m sure you’re great at it.” She’d always been great at anything she did, there was no reason this would be any different.
finn-oconnor:
“Yeah I would s’pose they wouldn’t pay too much, but it’s a job, right?” Finn gets it. He’s done some shitty jobs in the past to make ends meet, granted most of them were for his father and illegal but shitty nonetheless. Usually he didn’t get paid either. “Yeah, you can do it while looking for some other bullshit.” At least that is what Finn would do. He would offer the man a job at the bar or the junkyard if he wanted one but he would have to ask him. The blonde wasn’t one to just offer things up and force an awkward conversation if Santi wasn’t interested. “Just a lot of extra work this week and shit at home on top of it. Always leaving me tired as fuck. But I can’t sleep so I’m out here with your ugly ass instead.” Finn teased and let out a huff of a chuckle.
— ☄️ —
“It’s somethin’,” Santi mutters, swirling his drink in his glass a moment before swallowing down another healthy mouthful. A job? Sure, he supposed by definition that was what it was. Just barely. The idea of finding another job hardly seemed appealing, too. But money was what made the world work. He couldn’t get anything without a little money in his pocket. Usually.
“What’s the shit you do, again?” Santiago questioned, an eyebrow raising. He knew Finn had plenty of connections, ones that had served him well enough time and again, but beyond that it had slipped his mind what else it was Finn did. Odds were he hadn’t been really listening if Finn had ever talked about it. “Can’t imagine you doing any real work.”
“Your father didn’t love you , so you assume no one else would either.”
— Caroline Forbes (via ashesofcaptivity)
elenaalvarez:
Her steps slowed ever so much as she managed to keep pace with Santiago, letting him take the lead despite having been to the diner a few times now on the odd nights where she wasn’t working late. It helped that she’d made a few friends too that could go with her so she wasn’t eating every meal alone. But she had her reasons for sticking it out in Bradford rather than going straight back home to everything that she knew, or so she thought that she knew.
It was still a broken mess that she’d made in leaving it all behind for Santi, even if she couldn’t blame him for skipping out on her wedding or her old life because she had her own reasons to leave. And they were becoming more clear, the longer that she stayed put here. “It’s cute, and I don’t mind that it’s small. It makes it easier when meeting new people because they’ve already heard my story so I don’t have to go around repeating it,” she replied softly, trying to smile even though her nerves were on end with the small fear that she’d say the wrong thing again and send him away.
“Yes, maybe it was time to get out of there.” Though she hadn’t thought it was something that she’d ever choose when Charleston and Eric were supposed to be her future. “Neon Boots, the dance hall? You’ve probably been in there or at least heard of it. They were looking for help and I was…” desperate, “the right person for the job.”
— ☄️ —
“Heard your story?” Now that piques his interest, an eyebrow lifting the slightest bit as if to urge her to go on with what exactly her story was that the town was such abuzz about. Did his baby sister have some kind of special story to share with the world that he wasn’t aware of? Or was it the story of how she’s run from her wedding to clean up after her dead beat brother once again?
That was an old story. Everyone already knew that one. Perhaps not people in Bradford, not until now, but he would always manage to fuck it up one way or another - might as well let Elena tell the story for once.
“That’s sweet, I guess.”
He puts the cigarette between his lips once more, exhaling a puff of smoke a moment later. “The dance hall? Ain’t that all honky-tonk shit? You like that kind of music?”
little-ms-liv:
“Well,” she muttered,”One of us ought to be.” It wasn’t mature of her; Olivia thought her bitterness had fallen off to a resigned exhaustion. Yet, there it was - still alive somewhere and willing to peek out.
Forcing a lighter tone, Olivia quipped, “Very kind of you to accept. C’mon, then.”
The fridge door, then cupboards opened and closed while Olivia pieced the meal together. She stopped only to look his way, gesticulating with a butter knife. “You don’t have to, no. But generally you do.”
— ☄️ —
The words aren’t lost on him, though he’s unsure whether he finds them fair or not. Santiago had never made claims to being responsible, put together, serious. Even all those years ago, before the kid and both of their decisions thereof, he never that type. Certainly parenthood forced one into a mold more than anything - and he could remind her that she had made those decisions just as much. It wasn’t his fault.
Still, he didn’t entertain her jab of bitterness with anything more than a subtle hum in the back of his throat, a bob of his head in acknowledgement of the comment.
“Lena’s in town,” he says when there is a pause in her meal making, nonchalant. “Have you spoken to her?”
ericsachs:
“I figured no one works here full time,” He wasn’t sure how livable being a gas station cashier could be but he shouldn’t really judge, not everyone had the privilege that he did. “But part time’s probably better, I’m sure you get assholes around here a lot.” Especially blaming the gas prices on attendants. “Yep, here I am.” He wasn’t sure how to explain that he was here because of Elena, which in part had to do with Santi considering. And he wasn’t playing her brother, well maybe he was, because he wasn’t sure who else to blame. “I’ve only been in Bradford for a few weeks now.” He was kind of surprised they hadn’t run into each other before then, considering how small this town seemed to be. “I came here for Elena. I’m sure you heard what happened.”
— ☄️ —
Santiago had never paid particularly close attention to his fellow coworkers, couldn’t say for certain if any of them were full time or not and, even if they were, it didn’t much matter. So he nods just slightly in agreement to the comments of his would be brother-in-law because it’s easier than speaking any further on the topic. It’s not hard to pick out Eric’s likely true feelings on the whole situation, that the gas station was a shit place to work - wasn’t he some big hot shot lawyer or some shit like that? Yeah, certainly Santi was far beneath him on the whole totem pole of life.
First Liv, now Elena and Eric - Bradford was looking less and less like a fresh start and more and more like a renewed Charleston where his mistakes were bound to catch up to him, sooner or later. He scratched the back of his neck, head bobbing the slightest bit. “’Course, yeah. Elena’s ‘round here somewhere.” There would be no other reason for Eric to be in town, he had put that two and two together easily enough. “I’ve heard bits. Bits and pieces. Sure.” That Elena had run off, had left Eric standing at the alter without a wife. But then again, wouldn’t that mean she didn’t exactly want the man to be following in her footsteps like some sad puppy? “Have you seen her?”
dakotaburton:
“See, now that’s a thought. Both. I could do both.” She couldn’t. She could have a bite or two or couple from both, but there’s no chance she’d be able to finish both meals. And she wasn’t even sure whether she liked the combination of pancakes and eggs at the same time. “You know what, I’ll just go with the pancakes. It’s.. sugar. Can’t resist,” that smile of hers found a way to grace her features. “Okay, coffee.. where have you been though? I haven’t seen you in ages.” Or perhaps that was on her.
— ☄️ —
Santi’s shoulders lift in a rather nondescript shrug of an answer to her question, mostly because he doesn’t have such a great answer for it. Instead he busies himself with a sip of coffee. Where had he been? Away. Simply away because away was easier than here, than dealing with the consequences of Elena having run out to Bradford for him and given up everything else she’d evidently held dear.
“Nowhere. I dunno. Just a little road trip, I guess.” If it could be called that.
To start over? Isn’t that what you do for a living?
finn-oconnor:
location: iron mule brewing co. taproom availability: closed || @santi-alvarez
Finn stretched his legs out under the table and groaned. He was sore from the days work. A random influx of people not coming to claim their cars and other people looking for parts. It happened from time to time but he had not expected it that day. At least it was over and he was at the Iron Mule having a few drinks with Santi and waiting on a full plate of wings. “How’s shit at the gas station goin’?” He asked the other man, with some hope that he was still working there. Though he was surprised at how many Southside and people like them had managed to hold down a job for a decent amount of time. Just goes to show they weren’t the fuck ups everyone pinned them for.
— ☄️ —
The Iron Mule Brewing Company had become something of a familiarity since Santi had first arrived in Bradford Springs. While beer had never been his preferred poison over the years, it was still a good spot for a few drinks and some decent food. And the company wasn’t so bad, either.
“Ay, Finn - the gas station’s garbage and it don’t pay for shit, so about as expected.” Santiago explains as he reaches for his beer, tipping it to his lips to swallow back a mouthful before drumming his knuckles against the tabletop. “But I guess it’s better than nothin’, right?” Bradford had come to be a strange sort of surprise - what with Olivia, and now Elena making their ways here. Did he belong in those pictures? Maybe not, but he was going to make an effort to fit nonetheless. “What of you? You look beat.”
elenaalvarez:
—
One moment she was staring at his face and the next, she was staring at the back of his head as Santi was off towards the central part of town where she figured the diner was at that he’d suggested. It took her another moment before it registered that he was walking away before her body started to move quick enough to catch up and keep up alongside him as her eyes kept darting between him and ahead of them. “It’s not bad at all,” she managed to say, still letting her brain overthink everything with the slight fear that she’d say the wrong thing again and he’d leave her behind once more.
“I wasn’t planning on staying initially but it made more sense the longer that I was here,” she spoke, not adding that she’d been waiting with the half hope that he’d show up again. “There’s a lot of nice people and some opportunities too that aren’t in Charleston.” If she wanted to take them rather than to keep working at Neon Boots for much longer.
Elena glanced ahead then. “I’ve mostly been working, trying to get — I didn’t bring much with me so it’s been nice to be able to cover some of my costs rather than keep relying on others while I’ve been here.”
— ☄️ —
Even without her car, Elena very well could’ve left if she wanted to. A bus ticket, plane ticket, taxi - she could’ve gone back home to Charleston without him. Hell, she could’ve gone anywhere she wanted to. Yet here she was, still wandering around Bradford Springs, following his footsteps like a lost little puppy. As she always had.
He hadn’t really considered that much, the fact that she always seemed to be following after him in one way or another. To clean up his messes, of course; because she was the responsible one. That had to be it - she wasn’t actually here for him. No, certainly not.
But then, why stay?
“Yeah? It ain’t too small town?” Santiago inquired, glancing in her direction curiously. “I suppose it’s about time you get out of Charleston, anyway.” He’s sure there's more too it. There has to be more to it. She left behind more than just a some clothing and memories. But what business is that of Santi’s?
He replaces the cigarette between his lips, a snort his only response to the comment about ‘nice people’. Perhaps there are. He’s glad that she’s managed to find them, people willing to take her in and help her out when he clearly failed to do so. “Working, huh? Where at?”
dakotaburton:
“Listen, I always crave blueberry pancakes. No, scratch that actually,” she shook her head, “whenever I see pancakes on the menu, I want to have them. But then also, I really love great Eggs Benedict.” It reminded her of home, of those endless brunches in Tribeca or SoHo with her friends.. they always had to have mimosas with it, and afterwards would either go to Bergdorf Goodman or Bloomingdales, the latter being Dakota’s favorite, and would spend the rest of their day shopping. “It’s a constant struggle, really. But you are not hungry?”
— ☄️ —
“Sure, but do you really want both right now? You’ve gotta be feelin’ either pancake or eggs, even if you ‘love both.’ Or hell, go big or go home - get both.” It didn’t seem like that huge of a problem to him, given a choice between one meal or another. There were certainly far bigger problems to have.
His shoulders lift in a shrug, glancing back at the menu a moment before cupping his hands around the mug before him. “Nah, no. Just coffee for today I think.”
little-ms-liv:
“More likeable,” Olivia echoed. “Trim her claws,deliver her to a vet, get her to take her medicine - for eighteen years. See if you’re the more likeable then.” There was no anger in her voice, only a dry resignation and the bitter humor tired parents often wielded.
It still hurt to watch him drink, even if the ache had dulled. They’d had the talks, the crying, the yelling. How many tears had been spilled for him between Olivia and Elena? But he still repaid concern with sarcasm.
A light slap at his knee and Olivia pushed back up to her feet. “Fine, son. Then I’ll eat alone.” She headed for the small kitchen, asking over one shoulder, “So, what brings you to my door, Iago, if not the food or fine feline company?”
— ☄️ —
“So serious,” Santi huffed, shaking his head before it fell back against the couch cushions once again. This was just a cat they were talking about, right? He could probably not care much less whether or not the cat showed any interest in him at all. Clearly his joking had fallen a bit flat.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t eat if you’re offerin’.” She hadn’t been offering, not originally, had she? The way she’d said it, with a disgusted look on her face as she held up the liquor bottle, had been far more appropriate for a disappointed mother than anything else. Or maybe his hazy brain was crossing signals. Besides, she’d spent so much time playing the role of mother, he wondered how difficult it was to turn off. “I’m more than happy to help you out and make sure you don’t have to eat alone.”
With that he transplanted the cat from his lap to the cushions beside him, much to her displeasure, before rising up to slightly unstable footing to follow her path to the kitchen. He leans up against the entryway, head shaking a bit. “Do I have to have a reason?”
ericsachs:
STARTER FOR: @santi-alvarez
Pump You Up
With the move to Colorado from the east coast, one of Eric’s biggest concerns was getting around. He didn’t want to have to drive to Bradford from Charleston, knowing that his patience on the road would wear thin. Thankfully he had a father who pretty did whatever he needed, despite the fact that his parents weren’t happy with his temporary move, they were already embarrassed about the fact that he had been left at the altar. All that to say that his father got him a nice deal on a Lincoln and it was a nice car but it sure as hell knew how to guzzle gas as well. Going inside to Pump You Up to get gas on his pump, Eric began to call out, “Can I get forty on pump number—…,” the last person he expected to see behind the register was Elena’s brother. It caught him off guard, and Eric put the wallet that was in his hands towards his side, looking at Santi.
“Santiago, hey,” What more was he supposed to say? What more could he say to the other man? “I didn’t know you worked here.”
— ☄️ —
Of course Santiago had met Elena’s boyfriend/fiancé/husband/whatever it was that he was now a few times over the years that they’d been together. He’d been glad for Elena, having found someone that made her happy, that she wanted to marry. But when the wedding day had rolled around and Santiago hadn’t bothered to make plans to head back to Charleston for it - convinced, more or less, than Elena was just sending him invites because it was customary and not because she actually wanted him to be there to put a damper on the event...well.
Here they were now, weren’t they? No rings or vows exchanged, and somehow the pair of them had ended up in Bradford Springs of all places, together. Of course there was more to the story than that, but Santi wasn’t the type to stop and get the details. He’d gotten the gist.
“Hey, man,” Santiago greeted when Eric’s head popped up and he realized halfway through the statement who it was that stood behind the counter. “Sure, yeah. It’s just a uh - part time thing, you know.” He’s curious - does Elena know that Eric had followed her to town? Did she want him to? Santiago wasn’t exactly the picture of a perfect older brother, but there was still a pang somewhere in there for her and the situation she’d found herself in. “I didn’t know you were...here?”
spencerbraun:
STARTER FOR: @santi-alvarez
Pump You Up
Spencer had walked into the store at the station, mainly to see what inventory they needed more of. With Santi working, he gave him a nod, “You gotta make sure you look happy every time someone walks in here, and pretend like you’ve got the best boss in the world? I don’t want people gettin’ put off in here from buying shit.” He was able to hike up gas prices since he was virtually one of the only stations in town, but he also made a good chunk from the items inside the store. “How’re we doin’ so far today?” He asked as he went behind the register, trying to open it to see what cash had been placed in there.
— ☄️ —
Money was hard enough to come by - let alone a decent job with Santiago’s background, or lack thereof. He knew Spencer was taking a chance on him in probably more ways than one; he couldn’t decide what it said about the man himself. Not that it mattered much one way or the other to him.
Admittedly, he was only half listening to the man since he’d stepped into the store, rather unphased by the whole idea of the ‘boss’ being present and having to be on one’s best behavior. “You think people are comin’ in here looking for the customer service experience of their lives?” Santi inquired, stepping back from the counter as Spencer rounded it to reach for the register. “It is just a gas station, man. People just want to get in and out, whether or not there’s a smile.” Nonetheless, he’s supposed to be playing the obedient employee here, isn’t he? “But yeah, sure. You got it, boss.”
little-ms-liv:
Her foot reached to prod his, gesturing to the cat in question. “Mine by vet bills, but yours by heart.” Olivia didn’t point out Minnie could have been his cat, if he’d stayed. If he’d ever stay. But, after twenty years, the point was well and truly moot.
As for Minnie, Liv knew she’d never had a place in the old lady’s heart. Iago, of course, had charmed her as easily as he charmed any woman - but was just as unwilling to commit. With Minnie’s human in school, Olivia was left as her sole, unwelcome roommate and she had no doubt the visit from Santiago had been a treat. She left the cat where she slept.
The bottle drew her attention, and Olivia sat forward to hook a finger around the neck and drag it closer. Sniffing it, she pulled a face. “Have you eaten anything today?” For years, she’d kept sandwich supplies on hand, wherever she lived; just in case he’d left his stomach empty of what his body actually needed.
— ☄️ —
Santiago sniffs, looking down at the cat in his lap before lifting a hand to scratch behind her ears absently. He had never really considered himself much of a cat person, but he didn’t mind Minnie. He certainly didn’t think he could be blamed for the fact that the cat had taken a liking to him over her, though. That seemed like luck of the draw more than anything. “Well, what can I say?” He asks with a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “I must simply be the more likable person in this room.”
He watches as Olivia takes hold of the bottle, an eyebrow lifting as she sniffs and pulls a face. It almost earns a laugh in response before Santi takes it back from her, tips it to his lips to swallow down another mouthful. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t be so dramatic, Mom. I had somethin’ to eat earlier.”
little-ms-liv:
closed starter for @santi-alvarez at Olivia’s home
She hadn’t been home in two days, sleeping over at work again. The auto-feeder had kept Minnie’s tummy full, but from the look of her stoop, someone else had come for food. Cigarette stubs lay loosely piled nearby, the tell tale sign Santiago was inside
Sighing, Olivia was glad he’d at least locked the door behind him. In case he was asleep, Olivia remained quiet, slipping her shoes off and carrying on in her stocking feet. She found him on the sofa, Minnie asleep on his lap.
“Well,” Olivia sat her purse down on a side table before sitting, “could you at least brush her, since she still loves you more?”
— ☄️ —
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Santi to make his way to Liv’s instead of his own place, for a wide variety of reasons - most of which he’d probably never actually admit to. It wasn’t even all that uncommon for Olivia to not be home, working long shifts out of town and getting a nice night in a comfy, cozy hotel room for the night. He certainly couldn’t blame her for taking up that opportunity more often than not.
This particular afternoon hadn’t been just for raiding Liv’s fridge or finding a more comfortable place for a nap himself - though those were certainly perks. No, he’d been seeking company at the time, after weeks of being away and still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Elena was here. He had simply stayed because - well, why not? His place wasn’t about to offer more comfort.
A bottle of liquor was sat on the coffee table, one that he’d brought along with him because he doubted Liv was going to keep it in the house anymore. It was already half emptied by the time Liv had finally come home. He laid his head back against the couch cushions as she came over to sit beside him, snorting at her words.
“S’not my cat, s’not my problem, Livvy. I cannot control the fact that she doesn’t get on with you.”