Colored Full of Trauma

Tommy's Regrets. 💛 (Start)

Well here we are, three chapters in and we're finally jumping to the actual timeline that the story takes place in.

Okay so, I'm adding this in after completing a few chapters, and I gotta say, I dislike pilots. They're never as entertaining as the other episodes to me. This is the same way, so if you don't like it a whole lot, I recommend reading the 2nd chapter. This one introduces the ball, but the 2nd one gets it rolling.

Let's begin.

The perspective will change as we go, and even flip back and forth, but for now, we're going to start with Tommy's perspective.

Let's see here, what's Tommy up to now-a-days? Oh, oh no...

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Tommy stands alone in his favorite bar in the middle of the night. This is a normal thing for him, don't worry. He goes there so much at this time, that he knows that the bartender always has to go to the bathroom somewhere between 12:30 - 1am, and usually takes about 10 - 15 minutes. This is perfect for Tommy, who is currently picking the lock to the back room of the bar.

He peeks to his left (the bathroom door) every few seconds to be safe. *Click*. The door that Tommy is picking opens. "Haha, you're the man Tommy." He says quietly, so the bartender doesn't hear. He steps into the room and looks around. To his left sits a desk and chair, to his right lies a sofa with beer spilt on it, and in front of him on the wall, hangs a crummy painting of a ship in a bottle floating at sea. The painting catches Tommy's eye, but not because he appreciates the art. He walks over to the painting, lifts it off the nail, then sets it on the creaky floor below where it hung. "Today is a good day for me it seems", he cackles. Behind where the painting was hanging rests a hole in the wall, with stacks of cash chilling inside it. "My, my, is this all for me? You really shouldn't have." He says, scooping up a couple stacks of the cash into the pockets of his green and yellow jacket. He hangs the painting back up after arranging the cash so that the missing stacks are less noticable, then sneaks his way out of the door (locking it behind him).

Walking out of the room, the uncomfortable booths, brown walls, and shelves lined with photos of other drunkards surrounded him.

He takes a deep breath, then gently sits down on a bar stool. He doesn't have a great history with these guys.

Tommy innocently taps his fingers against the bar for a few minutes before the bartender makes his way back up to it. It's an older guy, hair balding, stomach expanding, and beer drops staining his clothes.

"So how was the stool tonight Tony? Must not have been too runny considering how long you were in there. Which is good, it means you're getting enough fiber." Tommy says, teasingly.

The bartender sighs. "Would you like a drink Tommy? You're quiet when you're drunk, I prefer it."

"Pffttt, you love me. I'm your number one customer." ;P

"Ehh." The bartender grunts as he grabs a large bottle of vodka and a shot glass from the shelf behind him, Tommy's usual.

As his back is to him, Tommy leaps over the counter. He yanks the bottle away from the bartender. "Hey-"

"How much for the whole bottle?" Tommy says, interrupting him with a cocky smile as he pulls out the stolen cash from his pocket.

"Wait is that my mo-"

Before the bartender can finish his sentence, the bottom of Tommy's right foot begins to shine like a car with underglow. With a quick flash, both of their shoes are replaced with green and yellow rollerblades, matching Tommy's jacket. "Oops." He says, purposely making the bartender lose balance. Before the poor guy can hit the ground, Tommy leaps back over the counter with the bottle of vodka still in his hand. A loud *thud* is heard behind him just as the bartender's back hits the floor. Tommy slams through the front door of the bar. "See you around Tony." He chuckles as he slams the door shut.