𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 ᵖᵉᵃᵏʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈᵉʳˢ

26, reopenings and reminders

XXVI. 1922

    Vivian always liked her home at night. Small Heath just looked better in the dark — when you can't see dirt and dust. But just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there. There is still, if not more, badness in the city after dusk.

In all honesty, Vivian had never walked down these streets with such nerves. Her toes flexed in her heels as she walked in the shadows. Her shoulders would tense up, touching her ears. She shook her wrists causing her bracelets to jingle, as she tried to relax. All she could do now was breathe in the filthy air of Birmingham with her chin up.

She watched as people passed her, walking in the middle of the road. Laughing and joking, filled with excitement to see their local pub finally reopened and looking better than ever. But who cares about the gold shit, as long as you get drunk.

The warm yellow lights shone out of every window and crevice of the establishment. Deep breath.

—

    Isaiah leant against the bar with a girl beside him. She had wavy short hair with a weird funny thing on her head. When he had seen her with a group of young women it was the first thing he noticed. It was like a net but with jewels.

He stood in front of her, looking her up and down, trying to find something interesting but there was nothing. She just seemed so average. Her eyes were dark, her hair was a lighter brown and her dress was sparkly but boring. He had bought her a drink, something simple that she accepted gratefully. Her arm rested on the shining counter. He liked that she held eye contact, even when he made her blush.

They spoke, back and forth. She had a soft voice but he could hear her clearly over the loud music and the even louder voices. He didn't know what he was saying because as the conversation went on his glass emptied and refilled then emptied again. He was slurring and yet she still stuck around.

And the more drunk he got, the more he'd wished she would leave him alone. He was bored. When he first approached her, he was interested and taken a liking to her. But not anymore. He got bored quickly nowadays.

He grew to hate the way she moved slightly toward him every few seconds. How she never interrupted him or joked back. He hated the feeling of her dress as he held her waist. He hated the how the snow no longer helped. He hated that silly thing on her head. He hated everything.

So he didn't mind when Ryan bumped into the two and put an arm around him. Isaiah didn't hear what Ryan whispered in his ear. He was sure it didn't matter.

The girl soon didn't matter as she was out of sight. Ryan had pulled him away and he was now sat beside Esme with John on the other side of her.

"Isaiah, how are you, my lad?" Some young peaky boy had said.

Isaiah didn't spare the kid a glance. If Esme wasn't sat so close, he'd have reached across the table and knocked the poor lad out. For no reason. That was the routine as of usual though. Wake up, drink, fight in the ring, drink, fight in a bar, drinks some more, sleep, repeat. A few lines of coke wouldn't go amiss throughout the day too.

Esme passed him the cigarette she had been sharing with John. He accepted it. He took a drag. He passed it back. John reached over his wife and shook his shoulder with a chuckle before passing him a whiskey. And then he was gone.

Ryan sighed, satisfied, as he sat down next to Isaiah. And falling on his lap, was a blonde who could have been his mum. Despite the racket around them, he heard Esme muttered a rough 'fucks sake' around her cigarette at his friend's behaviour. He met Finn's gaze and they both smirked and sniggered at Ryan's choice in woman.