𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨

Act 3

           Chip looked nothing liked I remember. He was much taller.  He was wearing cowboy clothes? With a cow boy hat? Which, he was probably thinking the same of me. I was wearing mama's clothes now. I had outgrown all of the kid's clothes, that I wore when he was still here. 

          "Century..." he muttered under his breath.

          This might sound extremely bad, but all I could do was bust out laughing.

          "Chip, why in the world are you wearing a costume?"

          "Excuse me, what?" 

          "Mama would have loved this. Her oldest son, a cowboy. I mean, we lived in a small town, but not this."

          "It's- It's nice to see you. What has it been? four years?" 

           "Oh, no, I've been keeping track. It's six actually. How are you? Being the Devil's Body guard and all?"

          This causes Mugman, King Dice, and everyone else in the room that I don't know to turn their confusion into a rolling boil of laughing. There was another boy like Mugman, but he had an entirely different color scheme and was shorter. There was too many people in this small space for me to even comprehend.  

          "Century, lets- lets go talk. I'll take you to my apartment." He states and grabs my arm.

          He takes me back through what seems to be a kitchen where we were, into a long hallway of what looks like hotel rooms. The first floor was entirely full of staff housing, but I could tell the next floor was hotel material. Though, it was very empty. 

          "So, what brings you here to humiliate me one last time before you get married? I figure it's about that time. Old Bettigan tradition, get married and start a family before twenty-two, ain't it?" He jokes. 

          "I don't think that's very funny chip," I reply sarcastically, "Todd is only 19. That would imply that we get married at a normal time."

          "They still limiting you from drinking and leaving the house? Putting you on that Christian bullshit? Doesn't really make any sense does it? Praise Jesus, he loves you. Only if you follow his ten thousand rules about dos and don'ts. It's everything I could ever want here. Friends, women, food and drink that comes with my paycheck. Lot better than the house. Ah, here we are. The only bad thing. Small room. But this place is basically my house so I guess that makes up for it." 

         He puts a gold key into the grey door. It had his name engraved into a gold plate on it. "𝒞𝒽𝒾𝓅𝓈 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓃" it read in swoopy letters. Something inside makes me wonder why he ever kept his last name. He loathed dad on a whole different level than I did. But something felt even more off, just weird. 

        "Did you add an S to your name? Why?" I gasped, and punched him in the arm.

         "Girl called me that in the casino one time. Blushed about it for about 2 days straight, kept it. Simple. She ended up dying though. What a shame. Found out she was sleeping with me, her husband killed her. But man, that one night we spent together was the best night of my life." as he said that, he started blushing.

          "You are such a loser," I joke, and walk inside the room as he holds the door open for me. 

          He was right, the room was small, but it was also as big as our living room. A queen-sized bed took up most of the room, no telling how many girls have been in and out of there. Like the Devil, he also had a portrait on the wall, hand painted at that. There was a Chester drawers with multiple different signed pictures of women on it. A whole shelf full of dirty magazines and one book on how to mix drinks. He had a picture of Mama on the bedside table, next to several empty whiskey glasses. He had a small makeup palette, and a few brushes on a desk, along with more empty whiskey glasses. He had a small clothes rack built into the wall, with multiple different what seemed to be handmade cowboy outfits, a flapper dress, and array of women's lingere outfits.

          "What are you doing with all these nice lady's outfits?" I snicker.

          "One, some aren't prepared to hook up with the famous Chips Bettigan in one night, so they don't wear anything special. But, only if they want to, I am gracious enough to keep stock of outfits for them to change to if they wish. And two, I get some super weird requests here, and sometimes, wearing one of those outfits is enough to get some personalized attire. These people will give anything to see something as absurd as a man wearing something of a lady's. And then they end up liking it. Oh, and the flapper dress is a souvenir I got from one long story," he told. 

          "Wow Chip, I didn't know you left to go undress for older men," I leered, jumping onto his bed, which felt softer than an angel's wing. 

          "I didn't really have a choice to work here anyways. Bet my soul to impress a lady, was already in some deep shit, and it got me out real fast. That's the reason why I never came back home. I couldn't. Besides, let's get down to the real question. Why are you here? Goodness knows Mama wouldn't go out of her way to tell you to come here," he questioned, locking the door and sat down on a bench at the foot of his bed.

          Knowing this was about to break him, i tread lightly with my next few words," Chip, Mama died yesterday of childbirth and sickness. On her dying bed, she told me to come here and talk to you."

          "Oh God, Century I'm so sorry," He sighed, putting his hands over his face, "I never wanted to leave you alone for that. I knew it was coming sooner or later. When the letters stopped, and I wasn't getting responses. I begged and pleaded for my boss to go let me see her one last time. I guess I was too late."

          Thoughts puzzled my head. We stopped sending letters to him a long time ago. Mama has never wrote him at all. How could he even know how she was doing? 

          "What letters? How have you been keeping in touch with Mama?"

          "We would send letters back and forth every week since I left. We kept them secret because she knew I couldn't come back and she didn't want to get all of your hopes up. She would write me advice for customers. I would tell her all about life here and ask about all of the kids back home. She was the only person I ever really had to talk to. Sure, I have a lot of co-workers who care about me, and women that come and go, but no one ever really sticks around to see how I actually feel. 

          He lays down on the bench for a bit, just staring at the ceiling. I lay down on the bed and stare, too. The room stays silent for a while, with an uneasy feeling in the air. 

          "Well, no time to waste. I can't bellyache about something I can't control. Wanna go get a drink? I'd love to introduce you to what I like to call my "Second Family". Hopefully the boss is pretty chill tonight and doesn't interrupt my social hour," he said, obviously trying to mask his pain.

        "Are you sure? I mean, you seem pretty upset, for a good reason. We could stay here, and talk about all of our experiences over the years. Todd expects me to be home tomorrow, and I want to spend as much time as possible with you," I ask. 

          "Todd doesn't have to know that it wasn't necessary. We haven't seen each other in six years. Lets have fun for a little while. And if you see it fit, I'll even ride the train home with ya. You don't know how much I've missed hanging out with you. And now that we're both 21, we can do the stuff we wanted to do as kids legally."

          "If you insist, just try not to be too violent," I giggle.

           "What? Who told you that?" he inquires.

            "Mugman"

            "Listen, ever since they got here which isn't too long ago, they've been violently themselves . Mugman is afraid of everything, including me, which is good. But his cup brother doesn't fear anything. Which is also good, if you want a drinking buddy who will do whatever you dare him to do. But I don't want someone to prank me during my work hours like we're in grade school. Still love them to death though. Like anyone else here. So, you ready to head down?"

           "Born Ready," I say, as I prepare to have the most freedom I've had since he left six years ago.