Middle Child Syndrome- Ian Gallagher

the whiteswallow

Ian was working at a club called the Whiteswallow. He was staying at some dump after he went AWOL and stole a helicopter in the military. I had the address. I had a car. Now all that was left was to go there. 

But I couldn't. I couldn't go. What would I do? What would I even say? It'd only been a month or so since I saw him, but it felt like years. The way Lip described Ian when he saw him just didn't seem right. It didn't seem like Ian. 

I sat on my bed pondering about what I should do. If I should stay or go. Finally, I made my decision. I got up and walked into Troy's room. He was blasting Wheezer but turned it down when I opened the door.

"Yo!" he said, "Athena, don't you knock?"

"I need you to do me a favor,"  I said, "I'll do anything you want. I'll even stop smoking your weed just, please, do this one thing for me."

_______________________________________________________________

Troy and I pulled up to the whiteswallow and parked.

I was about to go in when Troy yanked me back in my seat.

"Athena."

"Yea?"

"Promise me you're not relapsing again," he said, "Like, relapsing to the point where you need to go to rehab again."

I looked at him, "I promise."

"Look, I just can't bear to see mom go through that again."

"Go through what?" 

"Athena, she was a mess!" he said, "She cried every single day and was so worried for you. She didn't want to send you there. It was Dad's idea, and she knew it was either that or risk you overdosing. And Persephone? Do you have any idea what it was like trying to hide that from her?"

I'd known Troy my whole life, but it was the first time I really saw a human side of him. He wasn't joking around or being half there, he was fully serious. Part of me was convinced he didn't have human feelings for a while. 

"I understand. And I'm sorry, and it won't happen again," I said. 

"Ok," he said, "Now, let's go find Ian."

We walked into the club. It was your pretty average club. Loud music, blaring lights, dudes making out with each other. 

"Looking fine," a guy said to Troy.

"Fuck off!" Troy replied.

"I like 'em rough."

 "We're not interested!" Troy said as I pulled out a picture of Ian, "Have you seen this kid?"

"Oh, so you like 'em skinny?" the guy said, "I could lose thirty pounds if you wanted."

"Where's the manager?!" I spat, losing patience with the guy.

He pointed to the bar, so we walked over there.

"Hey!" I said, "You the manager?"

"Yea, who's asking?"

I rolled my eyes at that question, "Look, have you seen this kid at all? Last I heard he works here or used to."

"Nope. Never seen him."

"Come on," I said, "Think harder."

"Listen, honey, I can't keep track of every twink that comes and goes into this bar."

"Well, your bouncer kicked his brother and sister out a few days ago," I said, "I know you know where he is. So, why don't you just tell me?"

"I have a busy night, blondie, and I can't waste it on account of your yapping. So, why don't you just leave before I tell my bouncer to make you leave?"