Forever Gone

one. fast forward

11 years after the end of Forever the Fighter.

Her hair was a bubblegum shade of pink. It matched her irritating snicker as she handed me the Marlboro's box, tapping a single, weirdly long nail on the top of it. I gave her a nod as she let out another chuckle and I let out a sigh of relief when I finally left that damned place. I walked back to the penthouse, shoving through sauntering tourists and drunks as I entered Time Square. The Upper West side was still a few miles away, but the lights called me. I stood and watched screens as they flipped through ridiculous ads, hoping to catch the eye of the local tourist and persuade them to sponsor their cause.

It worked seldom, if I was being entirely honest. I felt a buzz inside my suit jacket and as I pulled my phone out, Elliot's name and face was spread across it. Crap. "You forgot about dinner, didn't you? You know, for a genius, you're a real freaking idiot. You have five minutes." And he hung up the phone. He's been a real bitch since Scarlett left and that was around 10 years ago. God. What a loser.

The restaurant was about a mile away and I began to sprint in the middle of the road, weaving past the traffic and taxi cars. My hair began to fall from its quiff and it hit my face as I continued to run, ignoring the constant honks from the vexing cars. "I'm going to look terrible when I get there," I muttered to myself as I took a break, checking my watch. I had a fourth of a mile left. I continued at a jogging pace so my hair wouldn't look so badly windblown and I wouldn't look out of breath. I stopped in front of the posh restaurant and straightened my suit.

I saw their concerned faces through the crystal clear windows as I entered, pushing through the revolving doors. I could hear their irritated whispers as I approached the table. "Sorry I'm late," I said, sliding into the vacant seat. Elliot glared at me while Nixon tossed me a smile.

"Do you always wear a suit?" Austin's wife asked. I should probably learn her name, but Austin's wife has this ironic ring to it that I could never get over.

"Do you even know Ace? It's either suits or sweats. There is no in-between," Nixon said, leaning back in his chair. The three brothers were old now, all with darkening, scruffy beards and established careers.

I was pretty sure Nixon was a dealer on the side though.

"Hey Ace," Lacey said, smiling sweetly at me. Lacey was the paragon of all good girls. Ever since that incident that happened when she was young, she's stood her ground, never wavering from her overly religious, optimistic persona.

"Lace," I said, acknowledging her. She looked pleased as she looked back down to her food.

Weirdo.

"Are you going to cut your hair soon?" Mrs. Summers asked while raising her eyebrows at the mess I called my hair.

"Nah. I'm waiting till Scarlett comes back," I responded, running my hands through it once more. She looked at me warily. "What?" I asked. Scarlett was supposed to be arriving at three o'clock tomorrow. The table looked at me in slight fear as I made eye contact with each and everyone of them.

"I just got word that Scarlett's gone AWOL," Mr. Summers said gruff and somber.

Well.

I spared all of them a fleeting glance as I rose from my seat, cringing at the screech it made. Heading towards the door, I heard my name called by the group. I left anyways.

Was it cynical to say that I was expecting this?

_____________________________

"Do you own anything else?" Nixon said as I stared at the passing cars. In my lap sat a backpack filled with a pair of sweats, a tee shirt and some deodorant. I also had an extra tie and a blazer.