Cade was drunk. More drunk than he had been in a long ass time. It was a bad day for him. One of the worst. January was always a weird time for him, he had done his best to keep himself busy. It had almost snuck by, but like every year it hadn’t escaped his notice. He had a half bottle of whiskey in hand, his second of the night. He was angry, he was sad. It was the three year anniversary of Michael Riviera’s death. His cousin. His first real love and family. His heart had died that day, despite the fact that people had tried to piece it back together, nothing else had ever really fixed it.
He was dressed in a pair of jeans and an old shirt that didn’t even smell like Michael anymore, but it was one of the few things he had kept from him. He was almost crying, he had already cried, but he had stopped himself a while ago. He was just mad now, sitting alone on the beach. He was breathing slowly, taking another swig of his whiskey.
Somedays, I don’t know why I try. He wrote the text to Casey for the fifth time. He deleted it and didn’t send it again. He wanted to be alone, he had given up on trying to fix shit this week. His leg was still broken, wrapped in a cast. Getting away from Connor and everyone else for the night had been a task. His crutches were sitting at his side.
He heard someone approaching him, he didn’t know who at first, but he glanced off towards the figure closing distance between them on the beach. It was Gray. One of the Hall brothers. He didn’t know either that well, he knew more of them and had brief interactions with them. But, he wasn’t that close to either of the boys. He saw him come up and once it was clear Gray was walking up to him, Cade stood. Dusting sand off of himself, he didn’t pick up his crutches but stood to face Gray, “What? What do you want?”
@grayson-hall
