BLACK VOSS: ACT 1

1

Andre Black's life wasn't dangerous, and with his job, he couldn't afford it.

The man's life was mundane, and as exciting as his job was, to him, he was just a bartender. He worked at Temple Bliss, a sinful building full of bright lights and expensive drinks. He didn't mind it, already finding nightlife comfortable and entertaining. What he didn't like was flirting.

He wouldn't tell you, but Andre was handsome, or he was called that at least every night. He thought he was pretty average with a chiseled jaw, but his patrons thought otherwise. The many compliments he received were for his eyes. They were hazel, a bright golden brown that seems to glow against his dark skin. And paired with his round shaped face, he received many passes from both women and men when he worked.

He was bisexual, but he would never follow any of them though, finding no need for romance. He was already a father.

Andre was a single father, becoming one after his girlfriend stepped out years ago. He would never say his children were accidents, but he did have them young. He had his first at eighteen and his second at twenty. He was clearly not ready to be a parent, now being twenty-six and still struggling with the two boys. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

His girlfriend at the time never bonded with the children like he did. She wanted adventure and travel, but Andre enjoyed staying in. He doesn't blame her for leaving, he just wished she left a note or something.

Still, he was fine, alone, but fine. He was content with his life now. He didn't need the excitement that came with being a bachelor, nor the drama that came from his work. He had his friends, his boys, life was fine.

Andre liked it slow, never being a fan of action and drama—he could barely sit through the movies. He wants to keep his life simple. Wake up, take the kids to school, sleep, pick them up, drop them off, then work. That was his routine, and he enjoyed it.

But something in the back of his heart was nagging him. Deep down he knew he was craving some sort of passion, something new to add to his everyday life. Of course, his sons were rowdy enough, and his best friend was always there to gossip. But he wanted something new, someone new in his life.

Was he lonely? Maybe, but he couldn't think about it at that moment, it was time for school.

"Remus," Andre sighed frustrated, "Please sit still."

He was sitting on the couch with the six-year-old sitting in between his knees, comb stuck in his hair. He was holding onto a blanket to comfort his growing headache.

The boy's hair was thick and black like his fathers, but he never wanted to cut it. He hated the sound of the razor blade and would rather go through the agony of combing than the buzzing. (It was a good compromise in the child's mind). So, in place he wore it out in an afro, putting in berets and clips he found cool. But mornings were still a struggle.

"I'm sorry," Remus whined, quietly, "It just hurts really bad."

Andre patted his son's back, sympathetically, "I know, I'm the same way. Once I get to brushing you should be fine."

"Why don't you just cut it?" Morgan insisted from the floor, doing his homework.

He was the oldest, and more outspoken than his younger brother. His hair was almost shoved down to a buzz, never liking when his curls tickled his ears. It seemed to match his personality, with the scowl or cunning smirk he wore on a daily basis.