It was mostly quiet in The Crown and Anchor, as it typically was at half ten on a weeknight. It wasn't really Trent's scene, but it was within walking distance of Ted's apartment and it was typically a sure-fire place to find him when he wasn't at Nelson Road. And it turns out, Trent soon found, he wasn't (after waiting outside for at least half an hour). It was unlike Ted to miss a day of practise. While he waited, he attempted to get a quote from Roy Kent who, upon realising it was Trent, started walking very fast towards his car muttering "fuck off fuck fuck off fuck off-" in Trent's general direction before he even got the chance to ask him about their most recent loss on Saturday, or where Ted might have ended up.
Normally whenever Trent attended The Crown and Anchor, he would spend no longer than about five minutes in the building; he would come in, take a quote down, greet Mae politely and quickly make an exit, leaving no trace. But as he entered the establishment at half-ten on Monday, the 13th of September 2021, he knew this would be different.
It seemed as if he might have been the only person left in the whole place, with the exception of Mae and three of her regulars who had either fallen asleep or passed out with their heads resting on the bench. As soon as he entered through the wooden door, greeted by the almost piercing sound of a bell and a warm smile from Mae behind the bar, he immediately scanned the room for Ted. He was usually sitting in a quiet corner, across from Beard, chatting softly with two pints between them. But that night Beard was nowhere to be found.
Trent searched around the room to eventually find Ted in the usual spot, sitting completely alone. Around him there were empty glasses littered all over the table, sleepily resting his head on his fist with his eyes only half-closed. As Trent walked closer, tentatively, he racked his brain trying to find a contextually appropriate quote from some old American movie to break the ice with him as he usually did, but he soon felt a gentle hand land on his shoulder.
"Maybe not tonight, love," Mae quietly muttered to him, slightly shaking her head.
She glanced over at Ted, looking at him with the same almost-maternal concern she looked at many of the patrons who stayed until half ten on a Monday night.
"Look, it's on the house-" she finally said, gesturing for him to sit.
"No no, that's okay Mae I don't intend to stay long," he smiled at her, but it was a disappointed smile.
Mae glanced over at Ted once more and shrugged.
"You can try, but.. tonight isn't a good night, maybe try tomorrow?" she offered, before scolding someone trying to climb over the bar.
Trent considered what Mae had told him for a moment, before deciding to bravely make his way over to Ted regardless. He knew something was off; it didn't take decades of investigative journalism to clue him in. But whatever it was, Trent was determined to get to the bottom of it. Partially because of his own curiosity, and his urge to chase what might become the next big story. But mostly because, though he struggled to admit it at times, he deeply cared for Ted.
Trent cautiously stood over his table, looking down upon him. At first he appeared to be struggling to keep his eyes open, but his face immediately brightened when he noticed-
"Trent Crimm, The Independent!" He slurred, arms outstretched, offering Trent the seat opposite him. Trent hesitantly sat down, carefully, trying to seem less like a reporter and more like a friend, something that he often attempted (clumsily, most of the time) when meeting Ted.
"How you doin' Trent Crimm, The Independent?" He asks, his signature child-like curiosity present in his voice despite his intoxication. As he asks the question he seems to lean towards Trent, leaning further and further until he's really closer to falling than leaning and Trent catches him by the shoulders.
"I'm fine, Ted. Are you alright?" Trent wonders, still gripping Ted by the shoulders supportively, keeping him from falling even though his head keeps lolling to the side. Ted ignores the question and Trent wonders if that's on purpose or because he genuinely doesn't remember being asked a question.
"What brings you here tonight, Trent Crimm The Independent?" He managed to stumble out.
