The Mind of a Hero

Chapter Five: Irving

Davey cleared his throat, adjusting the camera. He smiled at it once, moving to sit back down next to Jack and in front of Elmer, notebook in hand. "So, Irving. How'd you guys find him again?"

"Well, we didn't do anything for about two weeks." Elmer scratched at his nail bed. "The races weren't every night, and Irving only went once every three weeks."

"And the timing had to be right", Jack filled in, and Elmer stared at him. He smiled.

"Right. Exactly."

"So, what did you do?" Davey pushed a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Elmer watched as a dot of blood forced its way onto his skin; a scratched pore. He licked his lips.

He glanced at Albert, worry filling his chest, spoken for through his shaking hands. He took notice to Albert's attire, dressed in black from head to toe—it didn't suit him. His red hair stook out like a broken thumb, sore and bloody and oozing all over the place. Yet, Elmer wouldn't complain. "Do you see him?"

"I do", Albert admitted, clutching the steering wheel. Lights flashed by them like clockwork, speaking for the traffic moving without them. Elmer saw the shadows of Albert's jaw reflected on his neck, and his brown eyes would alight for brief moments of time, like lost pennies. Elmer's ears flushed red. "I think you should stay in the car."

His brows furrowed, his attraction flew out of the window. "Fuck that. I'm going with you."

Albert sighed, his grip relaxing along with his posture, the paint on his seat squeaking. "El-"

"No, I'm going." He wasn't sure what Albert had planned for the ex from Hell, but he knew the satisfaction of seeing Irving rotting there could only be fulfilled through the veined hands of Albert DaSilva. As sadistic as it sounded, he would love to see it. "I deserve it."

Albert couldn't argue, Elmer knew that as he watched him pull his car key out of the ignition, and the car seemed to relax without the fall of their weight on it. Both doors slammed shut at the same time, and Elmer giggled at how in sync they were.

"So you're at his house at this point?"

"Yeah. His apartment."

"What does it look like?"

Elmer sighed, eyes glancing at the ceiling as he thought. "I mean...he was poor. It wasn't the projects, but there were better sides of town, you know."

"I do", Jack mumbled, clearing his throat. Davey looked at him briefly. "What are you feeling then? Like, what's going through you're head?"

"Well. Nothing."

Adrenaline made his hands feel like maracas, and his legs twisted as if they were boiled and spoiled with salt. He attempted to remember the hallway he was walking through, and eventually he'd forget, but the memorization only seemed to enhance his nervousness—if he was an ant, then God was holding a magnifying glass, and the sun was refracting through it. "Allie?"

Albert hummed, hand shadowing the doorknob. Elmer let out a shaky sigh, rubbing his hands against his light wash jeans. "Um...I'm not scared."

The redhead nodded, placing a hand onto the doorknob. "Okay."

Elmer blinked. He watched as the door clicked open and Albert did a small once over from the safety of the doorframe, the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarettes hitting him with fervor. If not for Albert's outreached and gloved hand, he might've fallen on his ass. "Stay quiet. I hear something."

The rumbling of the TV that never shut off or else it would never come back on, and the sound of snoring, scaling Elmer's ears like walls. He'd never been happier to leave, even as they stalked closer to the one bedroom in the apartment, walls lined with torn paint and dents. There wasn't one picture put up, just as Elmer remembered, and it sent caution down his spine. It reminded him of the enthusiasm that was once there.