early edition -bennoda

chapter two

(yo so this sucks and it's basically a filler chapter but- I hope you guys enjoy it anyway, things kinda don't make sense now but hopefully they will soon :)

When Chester made it to the bar, Brad and Rob were sitting at one of the tables, talking about something, but they stopped abruptly when they noticed his presence.

'Yeah, I'm gonna pretend that didn't send my anxiety level through the roof.' Chester thought, a forced and worried smile on his face as he cocked his head, questioning them silently.

Brad shot a quick glance at Rob, who, of course, couldn't see it.

Chester withheld a sigh as he took his bomber jacket off. "What's up, guys?"

Rob swallowed, then shook his head. "I'm gonna use the restroom." He said, discomfort clear on his face as he tugged on his dog's leash gently. "C'mon, spike."

Chester and Brad silently watched Rob stumble towards the restroom, his dog guiding him slowly.

When Chester turned to Brad, Brad looked down, most likely to hide the blush that stained his cheeks, but Chester noticed anyway, and coughed quietly.

Chester shook his head and chuckled at Brad when he looked up slowly.

"What?" Brad huffed, a slight edge to his voice as he spoke.

Chester half shrugged, smiling. "I didn't say anything."

Brad rolled his eyes. "B-"

Chester snickered, taking the paper out of his pocket, opening it up, blocking Brad from his view. "Okay, so," he said, feeling his mood drop the moment he read the headline. "Woman killed.. hit and run.. 12:30.." he mumbled, reading the paper intently, before glancing up at the clock.

8:15.

He glanced down at the paper, turning to the next page.

"7:30.. bombing.. Chino's bar.. 16 killed.." he mumbled, scanning over the paper quickly. "That's fucking horrible. The paper knows damn well that i can't go in there without having my head bit off."

Brad rolled his eyes, pulling the paper down to the table so he could talk to Chester face to face. "Then don't."

Chester blinked, an angry expression blanketing his face as he asked, "excuse me?" in an offended tone.

"I said, 'then don't'." Brad repeated, watching Chester raise his eyebrows. "They know you, but they don't know me. So, let me take care of this."

Chester's face morphed, from confusion, to amusement as he burst into laughter. "I- I don't think so, Brad." He said, collecting himself slowly.

"Oh, come on." Brad pressed, using his big puppy dog eyes on Chester. "When have I ever let you down?" He asked, watching Chester start to say something.

Brad groaned slightly, speaking in a defeated tone."Okay, okay, nevermind that. But you know you can't go in there, and who else would? Rob?"

Chester stared at him for a second, frustrated. "Fucking fine, Brad. I get it." He said. He liked being independent, he liked doing things by himself, and he liked being right. "You're still not getting the winning numbers."

"Oh, come on!" Brad shouted, standing up. "That's bullshit!" He spat across the table, angry.

"You're only in it if there's something for you to gain, admit it." Chester said, smirking, because he knew he was right.

"Just one time, please?" Brad begged. "Look, I'll get down on my knees."

"Please don't." Chester said, closing his eyes. "You 'washed' the floors."

Brad huffed, staring off into space for a minute after sitting back down in his chair. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Great!" Chester smiled, raising the paper again, mumbling the lines of next tragedy quietly.

He could feel his stomach drop.

"Man, 19.. jumps off bridge.. 8:03.." He inhaled. "I'm not ready for that. What if I can't talk him out of it, Brad?" He said his, mind making up different scenarios of how he could fuck this up. "Hell, I can barely find a reason to live, what am I going t-" he rambled until he couldn't, he was hyperventilating, and he couldn't help it.

What if he couldn't save this kid?

"Hey, hey," Brad said quickly, standing up, circling the table to get to Chester. "follow my breathing, okay?" He said kneeling by the chair Chester sat in.

"Innnn," he paused, "out." "In." "out."

After awhile, Chester's breathing finally evened out, thanks to his friend's guidence.

"C'mere." Brad said, and Chester stood up, hugging Brad tightly without hesitation.

"What if I can't do it, Brad?"

Chester didn't even know why he was so nervous, he dealt with this kind of stuff everyday, and things (almost) always worked out fine, so why was it different this time?

"Do you want me to come with you?" Brad asked, gently, trying not to push his luck, a repeat of earlier was the last thing he wanted.

Chester shook his head against his best friend's body, before sinking impossibly deeper into him. "No."

Brad loved Chester, he really, really did, but he couldn't help but resent how fucking stubborn he was.

Brad rubbed Chester's back anyway, whispering to him how he'd be okay, how he'd be fine, and how the stranger on the bridge would be fine, too.

Chester hoped he was right, but the feeling in his gut told him otherwise.