FIRST MEETINGS. || @icefelled
the new york continental had become a second home to john when he was more than glad to give his service to the high table & everything beneath it. the red circle , a hidden bar under the floorboards of the lobby , had been more of a sanctuary for him to think rather than an area to discuss matters lying outside the walls of the hotel. the rules are important ; no business can be conducted on hotel grounds. winston’s managed to keep that known rather well since the first day he was promoted to management - but it didn’t stop people from talking about what their plans were as soon as their feet hit the sidewalk outside.
now , however , the bar feels rather alien to mr. wick. lively faces of people who are more than glad to be here - bounty hunters , mercenaries - everyone having a nice time for the moment before they hit the streets to sort out their differences. there’s always been a saying that the rules are the only thing separating them from the animals. at times , it seems not even the rules can do that. john wick , of all men , should know.
he figures he’ll stay in tonight , but there’s always that voice in the back of his mind telling him that he’s gone soft. he takes another long sip of his drink ( bourbon , of course ) , tucks himself into the booth he’s chosen a little farther to observe the faces of others from a more dimly lit light. people watching used to be more interesting to him when he didn’t have quite as much on his mind but the thoughts invading the space there sends his eyes wandering back to the table before him.
