May 10th was never a pleasant day for our oh so friendly magician, it was a day of bitterness and despair. A constant reminder that he was the cause of his mother's death on the same day of his upbringing into this cruel and dark world. His birthday was not a day of celebration but a day of pain and degradation, the anniversary of the day he killed his mother. Something he could never forgive or forget.
On this very day all he wished to do was treat it like any other day yet he knew that he couldn't. Those lingering feelings would be present throughout the entire day, feelings that could only be drowned out by alcohol. It could get rid of almost any problem. That's why the booze was hard to put down.
He already smoked an entire pack of cigarettes and it wasn't even noon yet. He had no doubt in his mind that people took noticed his behavior but would anyone approach him about it? If they were smart enough they would know not to. Getting Constantine to talk about any personal problem was like putting your leg in a bear trap. It just never was a good idea and never resulted in a positive response from the blond.
He'd just do his usual, work to blow off steam and binge drink once he made it back home. That was his plans for the day. As long as nobody knew of the wretched day he would be somewhat fine. Or at least pretend to be. Would he ever be truly fine? That nobody knew.
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Constantine: Our Favorite Jolly Englishman
FanfictionA collection of short stories about everyone's favorite asshole.. John Constantine.
