AFTER HOURS ━━━ carmy berzatto.

↳ NOW - 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐔𝐄

Carmy

Carmen stopped at the crosswalk and zipped up his checked front jacket, breathing in the chill morning air as he looked around. His eyes fixed on the sidewalk. Graffiti brightened walls, but there were also piles of fly-tipped rubbish, magazines and broken videos. The area had long been marked by a division between the rich and poor. Poorer Irish workers and other immigrants settled in the western portion of the Near North Side in what is now called River North. The wealthy built stately homes along the lake in the Gold Coast, Magnificent Mile, and Streeterville areas. Into the 20th century, the construction of Cabrini-Green exacerbated the economic divide. However, as a whole, River North was an ultra-stylish, ultra-urban district of sleek art galleries and studios, all tucked away into former warehouse buildings. It was also home to one of the city's hottest nightlife scenes, with trendy bars and clubs that kept the party going till the early morning hours.

For someone like Carmy, who had been away for many years, it was easy to get a strange and eerie feeling when walking through River North, nervously wandering its well-known places; the cook saw all of the new construction and the new homes that had been built and got a clear sense that the neighborhood was getting improved for people who don't live there yet, and while there were many sites from the past that were familiar, there was also a lot that was new and strange and that felt out of place.

In the midst of the busy scenes of the outskirts of downtown Chicago -in which many years of his boyhood and early manhood were spent- he kept noticing its changes -some were subtle, others not so much; many once-familiar neighborhood stores had closed their doors. People had moved away. Others had moved in.

For a moment, he reflected on his former house -his mother's place now. He could recall the smells, the lighting, perhaps even see the imprint in the spot where he always sat on the couch, back at their old childhood home. He'd been back for two months now. He still hadn't stopped by the house yet.

I can't , he justified himself silently. Too busy. Then, he remembered something else. The fucking mixer doesn't even work. Fuck. I'll make do.

Two months. How long has it been?  He remembered. Two months. That meant Michael had been dead for four now. At some point Carmy had started doing that math every day. Automatically. If I stop counting, he's gone.

It always started with that damn question. How long has it been? He'd tried to stop counting because even if the prior years of absence between them had already brought Carmen enough grief, now the accumulating days and months that came after Michael's suicide attacked him with a renewed sense of loss every time he asked himself that.

How long has it been? This time, he seeked to tally how long it had been since he'd heard his brother's voice. And reminded himself he would never hear it again.

If I stop counting, he's gone.

Carmen's blue eyes looked up. The sky glowed pale, with the faint light of the rising sun. Mikey's gone. He pulled the green cap lower on his head, one foot tapping anxiously as he waited for the traffic light to turn red.

Mikey's gone. 

Gone.

Fuck you, Mikey.

His phone suddenly vibrated, indicating that he had just received a text. The music app momentarily faded to silence, then faded back in. It's a blue world without you. It's a blue world alone. The young man dug his mobile out of his pocket and swiped a calloused thumb over the glass, glancing at the softly lit screen that indicated it was little past 5:30 AM.

The notification covered nearly half of the background picture -which was one of the phone's default wallpaper images. He'd never bothered to change it. He'd also never set a reminder for himself (and doubted he even knew how to).

Go to the thing, the message said.

He stared at the screen numbly, his thumb still hovering over the words. When-- how did she...? Another buzz of his phone brought him back to reality. A small sigh left his mouth at his sister's name there. Fucking shit? Carmy read the message on the lock screen banner, without actually opening it.

Sugar:

Bear

just try it.

Carmen:

u went thru my phone?

Sugar what the fuck

Sugar: 

it's not a violation of privacy if there's nothing personal on it

u could at least change your lock screen

it looks like a criminal's phone. asshole

He left the message there, without swiping it clear. Maybe she would assume he hadn't read it yet. But he knew she wouldn't.

"Hey, one of these days we'll all get by. Don't be afraid, don't fall... " Carmen lowered the volume on his headphones before finally crossing the street.