The Mentor

Chapter 41

"I'm just about ready to head out, you?"

"Not quite yet, I think I'm gonna hang out for a while, maybe order food and then go home."

I was off talking to Kyle a little with Julien at the front desk, but neither of them had much to say so I went back into my booth and shut the sliding door. I had one final client for the day but then I was off to my apartment again. I didn't want to go back there, it had become a fancy yet gloomy place to be with all my non work related hobbies collecting dust. I spent every night drawing for the next day while putting something stupid on the television that I barely listened to. I had spent a lot of time at Scott's place here and there, but not too much since he came back from rehab. In fact, I hadn't been to his place at all since the day he returned. 

**knock knock**

Speak of the devil, Scott.

"Hey, where are you going after your last client?"

"Home probably, why?"

"Come to my place when you're done."

"Why?"

"Just do it, please? I promise I'm not going to hold you captive."

"Okay? Fine..."

"I'm out of here for the night, you need anything?"

"A freezing cold glass of wine," I joked. 

"Then that'll be there waiting for you, see you soon." 

As soon as his body disappeared around the corner, my next client showed up. It was a young man who wanted a tattoo of a sword from a video game, one that I didn't play. I didn't play many games either way, but was unhealthily attached to the ones that I did play.

I didn't feel like talking to my clients that much that particular day, so I just blamed it on trying to focus, and it really did work. I knocked out the tattoo a lot faster than I had anticipated and was very happy with it, even if I only got a lousy ten dollar tip from the guy. Packing my stuff up quickly soon after he left, I headed for my car and cranked the heat for a few minutes before peeling out of the parking lot and down the street. You'd think I was living in a city like San Francisco with the crazy amount of traffic, but I had gotten used to it at that point. 

Pulling into the apartment complex parking lot, I lit a cigarette and sat outside staring into the dark air, where mosquitos and other flying pests were dancing about over the slight fog. I wasn't happy about the colder weather coming in, but I was glad those bastards were going to disappear soon. Something had bit or stung me on the back of my arm a few days before and it was getting really aggravating and itchy. I just wanted the stupid swollen dot to go away already, as if I wasn't stressed out enough.

I dropped my cigarette out the window and stomped it out with my shoe. I looked up into the windows attempting to peek through Scott's curtains, get a glimpse into his private life and what he did when I wasn't around. Lord knew I was at the very least, curious about that. I climbed out of the car and shut the door, pressing the lock button three times to be a hundred percent sure no one could get in, like that would happen in a town like Troy, Michigan. Making my way up the stairs slowly, I almost considered turning back. But I pressed on until I got to Scott's door and knocked. 

He answered almost immediately, can of Red Bull in hand, wearing a plain fitted black t-shirt and gray cargo pants with a black beanie almost entirely covering his grown out buzzcut. He had kept up with maintaining it more often lately, but I loved it when it was just starting to get longer again and when his greying facial hair started to grow around his bottom lip. I know he preferred it to be neatly shaved, but I liked him better rugged and prayed that he would just forget about it for another week.