At some point, Adrian knew, Olympus would find a balance again. It always did. It absorbed the hits it took and kept moving. So while Adrian had slipped into hiding for the last two weeks, thy Olympus had stitched itself back together and barreled on into December without caring who got left behind. Adrian’s bank balance was a testament to that. Thirty-six dollars and two cents in the negative. And his dealer wasn’t taking anymore of his “IOU bullshit,” as he’d forcefully put it. Top it off with the fact that he’d already been late on Rent last month and if he didn’t have the cash by Friday, here’s no way his landlord would just let him slide.
If Adrian didn’t get back to work, the last few days of alternating between Izzys’ couch and Ryder’s couch would be permanent.
The Dive was tied to Adrian’s life in ways he hadn’t expected. When it suffered, he suffered. This place that he’d expected to work at for a few months until something better came along had become something like a home to him. He pulled a stray piece of caution tape off the door and shoved it into the trash on his way in the door. It was weird to see the place completely empty, though at least this time it wasn’t completely torn apart. Less clean up this time around.
There was a light on in the back office as Adrian dragged his feet past the bar. He hadn’t been afraid of Seth before. When things were good with Ryder, he’d felt untouchable. And though the man could threaten him, Seth had never been his boss before. The thought of facing him now made his stomach knot as he knocked on the door, pushing it further open with his knuckles.
“Hey, boss,” he said, presenting himself with all the dignity and posture of a kicked dog begging for scraps. Maybe the President patch just had that effect on him. “Not trying to be an annoying prick but... any idea when you’re gonna reopen?”
@scthcarter