If Tomorrow Never Comes

1 - Mr Adrian Porter

It started with a diner. I know what you're thinking, what kind of story starts with a diner, especially in the first sentence? Well, I don't know myself. This story is far more interesting than a diner. The diner is where our main characters meet, so I would probably say the diner is pretty important already,  because without the diner, our two characters wouldn't have met and this story wouldn't exist.

Adrian Porter, our hero of the story. A man that cares for nothing but himself and his ebony, metallic motorbike. Who knew a biker would be a hero in a story about the apocalypse? Not me. He grew up in New York, washing the streets with the thunder of his bike. He dealt drugs and had one-night-stands with any fortunate yet extremely unfortunate young lady that bumped into him on a night out. He manipulated them, convincing them it wasn't a one-night-stand and that it all meant something, only to be kicked out of his apartment the next day. He spent most of his days at the bar or the diner, seducing the waitresses, and once again, having one-night-stands. That's all he was known for. He was known pretty well due to his toxic reputation. Men warned their daughters of him and even their wives, eventually resulting in hundreds of divorces. Adrian was the cause of many divorces and the occasional pregnancy, but he threatened the mother in the most revolting ways to get an abortion. Adrian was kicked from his home, which consisted of his widowed mother and his sister, at an extremely young age for fighting at school, which was another habit of his, attending street fights. Adrian lost his father in a freak accident when he was younger, a police chase through the streets, the criminal car crashed into a lamppost, it fell ... crushing him. He turned down but he was never turned down ... but if he was ... let's just say that poor woman woke up with a scarring gift the next morning. He was now sat in the diner, at ten o'clock on a Saturday, like every Saturday for five years since he was sixteen. He was a heartless bastard.

Our next character, Esme Winters is ... different. Not so much in looks ... but in her head. She went to school, as every child should. She went home to her family and made their tea, as her parents weren't home until later as her father was a policeman and her mother was a nurse ... so when I say family I mean her thirteen-year-old brother, Charlie. He was a disciplined boy, Christian and intelligent. He was really into science so he would really annoy Esme about atoms at any given moment. After Esme's sixteenth birthday, she was diagnosed with schizophrenia and her life changed dramatically — she dropped out of school, she never went out in public and she sat in her room, isolated from society in the dark.

Esme celebrated her birthday by going to the diner, knowing she had to leave the house someday, as much as she dreaded feeling the wind in her hair. Her birthday was three days from now and decided to book a booth for Tuesday. And that's how our characters meet, they both just so happen to be going to the exact same diner at the exact same time.

Esme entered the brightly lit diner, pushing the heavy glass doors and was greeted by the high pitched tingling bell and the smell of doughnuts and milkshakes. The girl went and sat down beside a man. He was rather handsome but he had that look about him, warning her that he had no good intentions with any of his actions. Esme rang the bell and waited patiently for service. The man was staring at her, she thought nothing bad at first and continued to wait. A waitress stood in front of the man, staring down at him with her brown eyes. "Can I get you anything?" She muttered, fear in her voice as if she knew him. "Yeah, uh, one strawberry milkshake and," he leaned in, up to her ear. She flinched slightly at the space between them, "your new number." The man backed up, sitting back on his pink stool. Esme could see how uncomfortable the woman was and did nothing at first, regrettably. "I'm not supposed to give out my number." The waitress quivered, sliding an already prepared milkshake over to him and went to serve another hungry customer. The man snatched her small hand and held her in place, giving her the eyes whilst sipping on the cold milkshake. "Hey!" Esme didn't know what had happened until she felt her lips touch again. The man turned to look at the seventeen-year-old. "Excuse me, princess, I didn't ask for your comment." He turned back after snapping. His hair rubbed up against his black leather jacket with every head movement. "A-and she didn't ask for your extra comment. You simply think that this woman belongs to you, she doesn't." The man straightened his back and smirked.
"Listen, Kid-" Esme interrupted him before he could speak anymore.
"G-get your hand off her." Esme demanded, the man laughed harder.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The waitress muttered, tugging on the man's grip like a dog on a lead. The man moved back up to the trembling woman's ear and muttered inaudible phrases to her. Esme inhaled deeply before raising her voice, "she asked you to leave!" And with that, the guy jumped from the seat and knocked his milkshake all over the teen. She gasped loudly as the cold beverage curved down her blue dress, soaking it a light pink shade. Esme's arms were spread wide like a bird as she looked down at the freezing liquid. Her small mouth still hung agape as she reverted her green eyes up to the jerk. "Sorry, Princess." He shrugged with a sexy smirk tugging at his pink lips. Esme's chest heaved up and down slower than a ticking clock. Her eyes shot knives at the man and her expression cursed him. He left the diner without another word.

"Oh, dear." The waitress sighed, looking around frantically for a cloth or any sort of rag to wipe the furious girl down. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about that. Thanks for doing that though, I really appreciate it." The waitress babbled to Esme, who was looking out of the steamy diner window at the leather dressed jerk climb onto his black motorcycle and reverse. "Yeah, thank you. Did you ... know that guy?" Esme spoke, looking down as the woman walked around the counter, got down on her knees and began cleaning the girl up. The waitress huffed before answering, "unfortunately, yes. I met him on a night out and I went back to his apartment and ..." The waitress looked up, "I don't know whether you're old enough to hear this story." Esme shook her head, "it's my birthday on Tuesday, I came to book a booth but then that jerk played up and I knew I had to step in." The waitress smiled.
"How old are you on Tuesday?"
"Eighteen. I'm not really looking forward to it though, my family is never home and I usually spend my birthdays alone anyway." Esme shrugged down at the lady. "But that sounds really exciting. You're finally becoming an adult. Why don't you invite a few friends to come and me and the guys will get you a cake ..." The waitress could see Esme didn't look at all excited about it, even when she put it like that. "What's wrong?" The woman stopped cleaning, looking up into the teen's eyes. "I don't have any friends." She smiled sadly, looking down at her almost clean dress. "Don't you go to school?" The waitress smiled in confusion, Esme shook her head. She looked down at the waitress name tag. Marie. She looked as if she was going to say something but stopped. "Can you tell the story you were telling?" Esme looked at Marie. She nodded. "Are you sure, it's not the most pleasant?" Esme nodded curtly once. "Well after I went back to his place, we hooked up and the next morning I was kicked out of his apartment. I didn't see or hear from him in a while ... until I had to tell him I was pregnant." Esme's head shot up in surprise. "You were pregnant? With his baby?" Esme muttered the question.
"I was, yes. But it turns out, he already knew, goodness knows how. And he told me if I didn't get an abortion ..." Esme could see the woman tear up, wiping her eyes with her long finger, "he would cut my brother's tongue out." Marie exploded into a fit of cries. Esme sat unsure on what to do until Marie placed her head onto her lap. Esme hesitated before slowly beginning to stroke her soft, long hair. "I'm so sorry. How could anybody be so heartless?" Esme squeaked, slowly stroking. Out of the blue, Marie jumped up, brushed off her uniform and backed up into the kitchen, "do you want anything? It's on me?" Esme thought for a moment and nodded.
"Only if you're sure." Marie nodded and smiled.
"Yeah, anything you want." Marie leaned on her hand, looking straight at Esme.
"Well okay then, um, a chocolate milkshake, a booking form and," Marie raised an eyebrow while tearing a booking form from the wall and laying it out in front of Esme. She reached for a pen as Marie started on her chocolate milkshake, "that guy's name." Esme smirked as she placed the blue pen tip down on the paper. "Adrian Porter."