I'll Just Stand Here and Watch You Go

Chapter 1

Alec Lovell took a drink of his coffee, realizing far too late that it needed sugar. Lots of sugar.

His friend David Range laughed at the look on his face. "Dude, don't spit it out."

Alec winced as he swallowed, glaring at him. "Shut up, man."

He shook out a packet of Sweet and Low, looking around. The diner was famed for its breakfast, but hardly anyone was there to partake of it right now. It was a slow day, still foggy, the sky almost completely white. If he went outside, he could taste the cold air, sweet and dissolving in his lungs.

He loved mornings like this, solvent and far away.

He poured the sugar in and resumed his watch of the diner. He loved that, too – watching people go about their lives, wanting to know them, imagining what put that crease in their frown, or that twinkle in their eye. He could almost feel their frustration, and their joy, if rarely. If and when he ever decided to get back in front of a camera, it would be useful.

But he didn't want to think about that. Hastily he ordered his thoughts, and caught the eyes of two teenage girls at the far end of the place, giggling and staring covertly at him. Though not covertly enough. Ducking their heads at his gaze, they covered their faces. Alec didn't know whether to feel exasperation or happiness. He laughed, quietly, helplessly.

Davy frowned at him. "You high? It's only nine am."

"Is it?" He checked his watch, then the clock on the wall. "Damn, no wonder it's so quiet in here."

It was quiet. Peaceful, almost. Even the strident ring of the bell announcing a new customer seemed part of the peace. Alec drank his coffee, now a little too sweet, and tried to listen, too. Maybe later he'd push a quarter in the jukebox, put on some Fleetwood Mac. Right now, conversations were muted at the booths. Close enough, he could hear the conversation at the breakfast bar.

"Excuse me, but when am I?" A high, sweet voice was inquiring, something odd about it, slightly deepened with urgency.

"Had too much last night, did you?" The gruff chef had come out for a bit, wiping down the counter.

Alec imagined the girl frowning in contemplation. "No, I don't think so. I don't drink or smoke."

The chef cleared his throat, somewhat unsettled. "Well, you're in Riverdance Diner, in good ol' Brooklyn, New York."

"No, I said - " The girl hissed a breath inward, exasperated. Then Alec heard the familiar rustle of a newspaper being unfolded, imagined the girl clutching it too tightly. "2002. What the fuck."

"Hey, watch the profanity, young lady. Where are your parents?"

"Not here." The bell rang again.

"Hey, wait!"

Too late. Alec sat back, took another gulp of coffee. Davy raised his eyebrows at him. "What d'you think that was about?"

Alec shrugged. "None of our business, clearly."

Davy followed his lead, already affecting boredom. "All right then. You coming to the discothèque tonight? Bring Liv and the kids."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Why the hell would I bring the kids to the discothèque?"

"Well, I mean," Davy corrected himself. "They're not really kids anymore. They're allowed to live."

"Guess so," Alec muttered.

"And they love being with you everywhere."

"Yeah."

"And you love being with them everywhere."