//aftermath// a. i.

prologue

copyright fivelarrysauce 2015

King Burger- or the equivalent of

        You've seen the signs on the highway near the exit ramps that say 'food .5 miles,' right?

        The ones that, when you've been on the road for ages and you're so goddamn hungry you've begun to chew on your pinky finger because it reminds you of a soggy french fry and you'll be damned if anyone questions you for it because fuck it, you're starving?

        Yeah. those signs.

        Well, Grace had passed at least four of those signs so far, and with her luck, she'd pass a dozen more before she reached her destination. It wasn't that she was doing it on purpose, she really wasn't, it's just that Grace was in a hurry.

        She was in a hurry because she was late.

        She was late to her own sister's wedding, and Grace was the maid of honor.

        Why wasn't she there already?

        Grace had remembered- at the last minute- much to her sister's dismay- that she didn't have the centerpiece for the bride's table for the reception.

        Why was this important?

        Grace and her sister's grandmother had left the only thing of value she owned to her two beautiful granddaughters before her death, with the wish that each would use it in some way during their weddings someday.

        And Grace had stupidly left the damn gravy boat on the kitchen counter at home, three hours away.

        So much for being responsible.

        Grace was now on her way back from her house, gravy boat in tow, but she was starving. Her stomach roared in protest as she passed yet another exit sign with little fast food symbols all over it.

        "Why, why now? Why now, when I'm already late?" Grace moaned at the monster within, her stomach singing some awful kind of melody that put screamo to shame. She eyed the next exit which was rapidly approaching. "Please, Ella forgive me, but if I don't eat something now I'll faint before I get there." Grace sent up a prayer, hoping it would reach her sister's ears before the end of the ceremony.

        As she neared the next approaching exit, Grace changed lanes and studied the sign, looking for any kind of fast food, or gas station available.

        The only accommodation for food at the exit was a wrap place that Grace had never heard of before. Her stomach growled, and Grace made the split-second decision to take the exit, slowing down as she rounded the turn, her stomach singing her praises. She sighed, knowing that this pit stop would only cause her to be that much later to her sister's wedding. It can't get any worse than this.

        "Order number three-fifteen for Doris?" a melancholy voice wafted through the bustling wrap shop, barely audible over the din. Grace sighed for what seemed like the millionth time as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, standing third in line behind a middle aged mother who was trying desperately to engage her teenage son so she could have their order ready when the elderly man in front finally finished his order for the entire herd of elephants he seemed to be buying for.

        "I can help the next person in line?' A bubbly female voice shouted over the clatter in the shop, and Grace sighed- this time in relief- as the mother snatched the opportunity to place her order with the new cashier at the end of the counter. Grace stepped forward in line behind the old man who was just now completing his massive order. The man thanked the cashier- whom Grace couldn't see over his massive head- and turned around to wait for his food. Grace approached the counter, digging in her small purse for her wallet. She looked down into the dark abyss that was her purse and rummaged between the leather sections to try and find the elusive wallet.

        "Anytime today, Princess." The cashier grumbled gruffly, his low voice sending shivers down Grace's spine. She glanced up, her eyes meeting a mop of curly, sandy hair, hazel eyes with long, swooping lashes, and the most melancholy, angelic face Grace had ever seen. 

        "Sorry." Grace murmured, her face flushing with embarrassment as she finally grasped her wallet between her fingers. She pulled it out quickly and slipped the coveted plastic card from the cover. Grace glanced up at the young cashier's name tag as he snatched the card roughly from her grip. A. Irwin. I wonder what the A stands for? Austin? Andrew?

        "Hello? I said get out of the way, Princess, there are people behind you." The server Grace now knew as  "A" was glaring at her, the sudden fierceness in his eyes flaming with intimidation. Grace gasped and quickly acquiesced to his demand, sliding herself and her belongings down the bar, to give room for the customers that were now staring at her, odd expressions on their faces.

         "Sorry, sorry." Grace mumbled, the familiar blush finding its way onto her cheeks again. "A" rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the next customer in line, tapping the selection screen with long, sure fingers. Grace studied "A," marveling at the way his hair shone in the fluorescent lighting in the shop. He moved, and his hair shimmered, the waves of golden brown slowly swishing back and forth as he sluggishly pulled a receipt out of the teller.

        "Order five-fifteen for Grace?" "A" called, his eyes scanning the room for her. Grace moved back into his line of sight and reached out to grasp the flimsy plastic bag containing her wrap. "A" smirked, dropping the bag swiftly between Grace's fingers. Grace gasped, her fingers closing around the bag- or empty space where the bag had been. Her wrap lay desolate on the tile floor of the shop, its insides oozing out of it like a dead man. Grace hurriedly scooped up the mess into the bag and turned to give this, "A" a piece of her mind.

        "Look I don't-" Grace began, the words suddenly sticking to the roof of her mouth. "A" was gazing intently at her face, his eyes alight with a searching emotion that Grace coudln't quite name. Grace tried to finish her sentence, but the angry words that had fueled her hate-fire dissolved like snow in her heart as she realized why he looked so awake, so alive. "A" was studying her face as though hidden within her pores was the secret to existence, the secret to happiness, or even God. It seemed as though no one had ever truly acknowledged this "A" character to such extent that they saw him as a real person, with real feelings, and real pain.

        But Grace had.

        "Thanks, Princess." "A" muttered, flashing Grace a small smile. Did he seriously just smile at me because  I spoke directly to him? How badly damaged are you? Grace thought. Before Grace could respond, "A" began stuttering and fumbling over his words as he tried to cover up some seemingly devastating mistake, as if he hadn't realized the previous words had actually left his brain and escaped his lips. Flustered, "A" quickly tapped out Grace's order again from memory, babbling something to her about 'being a dick' and 'making things right,' but Grace might've heard him wrong.

        All she knew is that when she picked up her freshly made new wrap, she was an hour later to her sister's wedding, and "A's" hands had been quite warm for a person who looked like he was about to sweat to death in that tiny wrap shop. 

"And I've never been so alive." (Motorcycle driveby- third eye blind)

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HELLO LOVELIES, THIS IS MY NEW ASH FIC I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE ME COMMETN BELOW OR FIND ME ON TWITTER @DYNAMASHTON OKAY THANKS BYE LOVE YOU ALL