Love Is Ǝvil

41 Say It'll Change But It Never Does

10:32 pm. A low sigh left Marshall and he pulled the hoodie of his jacket deeper into his face. The fake fur framed the world like it was a long forgotten story. Maybe a sign of how universal and eternal his mistakes were. He would always be this wrong. Someone had to live with this curse, sadly in their generation it was him.

"Marshall?" A man leaned down into his field of view, the blond hair falling out of the fury frame and the single blue eye sparkled in the weak light of the street lamp nearby.

Marshall smiled for a second. "Worick." He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against. "Glad you could make it on such short notice. Sorry, I didn't call sooner."

A puff of cigarette smoke floated up in the night sky. "It's okay, don't worry. You feel alright?", he asked with some concern on his face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine", he waved the question aside. "I just, uhm ... I wanted to thank you for your help the other night. And I, well, I ...", he bit his lips for a moment. He still hadn't come up with a good idea on how exactly to thank Worick for his help. I know something all men appreciate. You can't say no to a good blowjob, no one can. But he didn't even know if Worick liked men. Fine, you want to give him a few Benjamins? "I should give you your phone back. I'm sure you need it." Marshall patted the pockets of his jacket. In which one had he put the device?

"Nah, don't bother with money. That's what you do on the streets, that's all", Worick smiled at him reassuringly. "Wanna go out for a drink?"

Marshall shook his head. "I don't drink", he explained. Finally, he found the phone in the inside pocket. That was a safe space, he should've guessed that was where he'd put it.

"Really?", Worick asked surprised. "I could've sworn."

Embarrassed Marshall rubbed his neck. "Well, I uhm ... 'Twas a hard night?"

Worick had amused twinkle in his eye. "Certainly sounded like one. Come, I'm sure they have soda there, too."

"Hm, why not", he shrugged. "Pop's fine." Marshall handed him the phone back.

"See", Worick smiled again and put the phone in his pocket. "You copied my number? If you need help again or something?"

"I wasn't sure if that was okay", he answered shyly. You didn't just take someone's number or searched through somebody else's phone without permission. He didn't even do that to his daughters, how could he do it to a stranger?

"Of course it is. Give me your phone", he demanded with a prompting gesture. Unlocking it first, Marshall gave the phone over and a few thumb movements later, he had it back. "There. If you're in a bad situation again, you can always call me, okay?" Worick began walking.

"Aight." Briefly Marshall turned around and winked toward Big Eight, who sat in his car and waited. Slowly the car set into drive and followed them, as Marshall and Worick walked down the street.

Worick watched this with a frown. "Is that your ... manager?"

"What? No, he has better things to do than babysit me. That's my bodyguard", he explained halfheartedly. "Last time I lost him, you can't imagine the tongue lashing he gave me. I promised to do better ... Even though, I find this ridiculous to be honest." A car driving at walking speed, that was stupid. But Big Eight insisted to not be left behind again and on a rational level Marshall knew, this was for the best.

Worick made a low sound of understanding. "Well, if something like that happens to you more often, I get it. But it's a bit, hm, invasive?"

Marshall shrugged. "You get used to it. He's a nice guy and you can talk to him and stuff. It's better than being swamped by some assholes or have a camera stuck in your face for no reason or shit like that. You know, kinda pick your poison, that sorta thing."