WAKE (Wattpad edition)

EPILOGUE.

Soundtrack: 'Persevere' - Gang of youths.

Some years later.

{Conall}

Conall Douglas had a briefcase full of papers to mark and a splitting headache by the end of the day, as usual. This shitty little community college was the only place that would look at his resume after his personal life had exploded like a pipe bomb in the middle of his respectable career. He disliked the blank-eyed students just looking for a quick path to make a buck and loathed the school administrators who still looked down their noses at him like he should be grateful to have a job at all.

He took himself to his only haven, a dingy pub whose football flags on the wall and Celtic music playing tinnily over the speakers allowed him the illusion that he was home. Quantities of cheap, strong drink helped.

He was well into his after-school ritual, chasing the dulled mind that was necessary to wade through hundreds of pages of freshman papers, which he still insisted they print out and hand in to him in person, when a young man approached him at the bar.

"Mr. Douglas?"

Conall frowned up at the young man, trying to place his face. He had the shabby, neatly groomed appearance of an upper graduate student, with a dark beard on his lean face. "If you have a problem with your grade, see me in the office."

The man blinked, then slid his long frame onto a stool just one away. "Buy you a drink?"

Conall grunted. "Won't get you a better grade."

The man caught the eye of the bartender. He named a far better brand of whisky than the piss Conall could afford and told the woman to leave the bottle.

Conall relented. "I don't recognize you from campus."

The man watched the bartender drop ice into the glasses and splash the golden liquid over top, naming the university Conall had previously worked for, years ago. He set one glass on a coaster at Conall's right hand, the shaded edge of a tattoo briefly emerging from the cuff of his shirt, then took his own glass.

Filling his nose with the rich smell of the drink, Conall took a mouthful, rolling it over his tongue. He was almost sure he remembered this young man, an excellent student. He sat up a little taller on his bar stool, trying to hold in his gut.

"Well that's very gratifying to hear, thank you." In truth, it had been a long time since a student had had anything positive to say about his work. "What are you doing now? Did you go on with your studies?"

The man shifted, lifting a shoulder. "No, sir. I was not--what you would call your finest student. Scraped by and barely made it out."

Conall smiled at him like they had a secret. "No one looks at the grades, son. Unless you're trying to be a professor or a lawyer in a fancy office, all anyone cares about is the paper with the name of your school. You did your best, I'm sure."

"Huh." The man bent his head, his fingers turning the glass of amber liquid on the bar. His fingernails were blunt and rough, and Conall thought perhaps he had gone into a trade after his university years. Someone had to, after all. "That's not what my father used to say."

"No?" Conall chased back his drink and poured himself another. He couldn't think of the last time he'd had a good conversation partner to have a drink with. "What did your father used to say?"

The man glanced at him, smoothing a hand over his mouth. He took a moment to answer. "Nothing kind." He took a small drink. "Water under the bridge now."

Conall nodded and sighed. "That's a father's job, isn't it? It's a hard world out there, and you gotta be tough enough to face it. My father did me, and I tried to do right by my boys too. Didn't like it, but it had to be done."