Romeo James was friends with the Shelby brothers ever since they where little. But then the war came and Romeo was branded a deserter. How will the Shelby's react when he returns to Small Heath? Will they trust him?
(Romeo's P.O.V.) I woke up at 4 in the morning and I couldn't get back to sleep. I lie there and lie there but the pain is too bad, from the beating I took yesterday. Curtsy of Inspector Campbell and his officers. With a groan I rise to my feet, to get out of bed. Before walking over to my sink to get a drink. I cup my hand so I can scoop some water. I stand back upright and look at myself in the dirty broken mirror. Slight crooked nose from it being broken, busted lip and cuts lingering over my face. I chuckled and shook my head "you look like shit, Romeo" I told myself before spitting some blood into the sink. I push myself off and decide to go otuside. Without a destination in mind, I just wandered around town, untill the sun began to rise. Although I remained away from busy streets, the Garrison and also the Shelby betting shop. Not wanting more trouble. I had no doubt it was the Shelby's doing with the stolen weapons. And concluded it was not worth to drown because of their business. So, it was smart enough for me to stay clear of them for a while. But being in Small Heath, meant I was in Shelby territory. And thus there was no where for me to hide from either one of the family members. Yet, the one who had found me, was not the Shelby I had expected to find me. With a slight limp in my step, I walk out from a side street. And was almost immediatly greeted by a gun. It pressed against mt temple and I froze to my spot. Before very carefully gliding my eyes over to the person. A relieved chuckle left my mouth as I saw who it was. "Polly Gray, as I live and breath". She glares at me like a mother scolding her child for telling lies and keeps the gun firmly pressed against my temple. I just watch her and stay completely still, yet I held my breath in anxiousness. Polly Gray might had seen me as one of her own when I was a child. But like everyone else, her opinion about me changed aswell after she found out about my desertion. Polly Gray is a dangerous woman. Her eyes form from anger to dissapointment and she lowers her gun.
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"You look terrible" she stated matter of factly and holstered her weapon. I let out a friendly scoff and fix a piece of my coat in a nervous fidgeting manner "can't agree more". Polly turns on her heel and walks away before telling me to come. "I better not-" I start but she just glares at me "Romeo". She had said my name like a scolding mother would do while arguing with her child. "Poll-" I sighed and put my head back, really not wanting to come along. "You better start walking, Romeo James, or so help me God" she said and I heard a tint of venom in her voice, as if she dared me to go against her demands. I chuckled softly at her basically parenting me. Before nodding for her to lead the way. Without saying a word, Polly turned around and walked off, with me soon following after.
I sit on one of the church benches. Hunched over and clasping my hands together as I wait for Polly to finish lighting her candles. With her back turned to me, she talked to me "For the boys who lost their lives in France" explaining why she lit the candles. "There's a list in the Garrison". Polly had said it like I was not even aware how many lives were lost in the war. I turned my gaze away from her, shame hiding my features slightly as the silence around us filled the church-hall. The candles that stood beside her was something I could stare at forever. Watching the flame flicker orange and gold. Then Polly turned to a different subject. "We've all should have seen it coming. You have been misguided since a young age" she softly spoke as if saddened to talk about my past, "your father wasn't much help. If all, compared to your old man, the boys where lucky to have their father". I let out a scoff in agreement. Remembering my father and the scars he left behind on me. "It broke me when he had forced you to stop singing" she told me. I look up at the woman I saw as a mother-figure. I remember how she enjoyed hearing me sing as a young child and teenager. She was the one who had gotten me into the choir at this very church. Before me father had dragged me out during Christmas mass. I hesitate for a moment but eventually speak "there was a song... me and my comrades sung... during the uhm war". I watched as Polly slowly turned around to face me. I looked away, remembering that time as I saw all those faces, that now looked unfamiliar. "It was the only time when you'd see them sit so quietly". I looked down at my hands and nervously picked at my fingernails. Before taking in a deep breath
"These mist covered mountains Are a home now for me But my home is the lowlands And always will be"
We sung how we called the mountains of France our home. While we actually belonged back at the lowlands of England
"Someday you'll return to Your valleys and your farms And you'll no longer burn to be Brothers in arms"
We sung to keep the spirit up that we will return home safely.
"Through these fields of destruction Baptism of fire I've witnessed all your suffering As a battle's raged high"
We sung about the suffering we could see from the battlefields as we flew over them, being either the hunter or the hunted.
"And though they did hurt me so bad In the fear and alarm You did not desert me My brothers in arms"
We sung how our brothers didn't betray us. Even I, did not actually betray my brothers in arms.
"There is so many different worlds So many different suns And we have just one world But we live in different ones Now the sun's gone to hell And the moon's riding high Let me bid you farewell Every man has to die But it's written in the starlight And every line in your palm We are fools to make war On our brothers in arms"
