This is Fire

ATTACK AND ARREST (12)

MASON POV

It's been a few months and a lot has changed. 6 months of sobriety with a maroon chip to prove it. I've been living with Jack for roughly five months and absolutely love it. It took while for my sister to really come to terms with me leaving. Trying to convince her was hard, I'm pretty sure she had a heart attack that day. Things are still going strong for her and Carina. Unpredicted and great to see. I've never seen her so social.

"Hey man, I've got a long shift today" Jack breaks the silence of our living room as he collects the final things he needs for his shift. There's never a lot of dialogue between us which I like, we talk when we want to, it doesn't feel like requirement. He's quickly become a best friend.

"I've got a shift anyway" I shout as I run to my bedroom to get dressed. A while ago I decided to keep art as a hobby, finding an art-based career was near impossible. So, I got a small job in a small Italian coffee shop place in a hidden part of Seattle. The only time I can show any creativity is through coffee art which is actually a lot easier than it looks; once you get the hang of it, at least. I'm starting to have my own life. A healthy life.

It takes roughly 10 minutes to walk to the small coffee shop from the apartment. It's the perfect distance for me. Walking through the smaller roads I've become familiar with, it's hard to ignore the very obvious drug deals happening. I crave it sometimes. The buzz is what I lived for. With the small amount of money saved, I've bought myself a phone and headphones. It was something Dr Satan advised me on, headphones to block out the world.

-

At the coffee shop I've grown accustomed to the hustle of this city. Even in this hidden street, there are days where there is a continuous flow of customers. Today is a usual Thursday, the day where the mixed smells of the pumpernickel muffins and Struffoli are fused together, our two best sellers complimenting each other.

Hearing the bell above the door clang alerts me. It's been a pretty slow day today. A few tables filled with small families, including an old couple who have become regulars. Looking over at the door, I feel myself go cold. It's Lane... my dad.

"Hello son, I see you're not dead" he says as he points towards a muffin, a colleague starts to follow his silent instructions.

"I guess I'm not" I reply, walking to refill the old couple's coffee mugs.

"That's a shame" He says, the voices around me instantly become a low-pitched muffle around me. I know I was never a favourite, but for my dad to wish I was dead. I don't know what to feel. Numb is probably the bridge between all of my emotions; comfortable. I feel numb.

The shop door closing quietly shattered the thoughts in my head. The thing I did next was unexpected even for me. I left... I just left the shop. It was like my body and brain were separated and the only recognisable thing in my path was a grey head of hair. Hair I recognised. My body connected with his. His spilled coffee and crushed muffin spread across the path as my fists flew. He protected himself but for once... for once I was stronger.

-

"Hey Mase, are you good?" Jack asks as he walks through our front door. I don't answer, instead I continue to stare at my bruised and bloody knuckles. I jump when I feel Jack's hand contact my shoulder.

"Woah, what happened?" He asks as he carefully takes one of my hands in his, examining my inflamed knuckles. "Okay, let me take care of your hands. Having them all messed up like this will probably get in the way of your art crap" he carries on and I can't help but smile slightly at him having very basic knowledge and understanding of my dreams.

Silence filled the air as he tended to my knuckles. Knocks on the door were the only thing to break the calmness of this moment. Opening the door to two officers wasn't unexpected to say the least.

"Are you Mason Bishop?" One officer asked. He was a tall man, ginger with a choppy beard. A beard that looks as if it had lost a fight with a razor. I nod, knowing what will happen next. I've been arrested before.

"You are under arrest for assault and battery. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning" The same officer states as he places handcuffs around my wrists.

I take a final look back at Jack and can see he's on the phone to someone, it's most likely Maya. He looks at me apologetically and awkwardly as I'm lead away from my home.

-

I've been searched and held in a cell for a few hours and given a bond. A bond which was paid by Maya, I'm in her debt again. Leaving the station and walking with Maya to her car was daunting. I know how she sees Lane and I can almost feel the animosity dripping from her body. The feeling doesn't change once we're in the car.

"Why did you do it?" she asks after a few seconds of uncomfortable peace.

"He said something" I mutter while looking outside the car window, the trees and boring cement tower buildings becoming more and more interesting by the second.

"What could he have said that was so bad?" she questioned; I roll my eyes.

"He said it was a shame that I wasn't dead when he came into my work" I say and again the uncomfortable peace collapses on us.

"I don't believe you" She mutters almost in a whisper.

"Drop me off at home" I remark and she does just that.

-

Walking through the front door I am met with Jack holding a beer can in one hand and a piping hot pizza box in the other.

"pizza fixes everything" He states as he starts to pile the cheesy slices onto two plates, handing one to me. "What happened?" he asks as we sit on the couch in our respective spots.

"I got arrested for assault and battery towards my dad. I'm out on bond and Maya paid for it" I utter, he nods as he bites into his slice. "He came into work and said it was a shame I wasn't dead. I lost it and followed him down the road" I announce after a few minutes of watching the sports on TV. That was the last thing shared between us that night.