Midnight Rules are Breaking

Pocketful of Miracles

The stoplight changed from red to green signaling Rey to kick off of the ground and get her bike into motion. Her body acted upon instinct and memory. The path to the bar was permanently ingrained into her brain, having traveled it hundreds of times, and her thoughts were currently occupied. The 1962 Norton rumbled beneath her as she continued down the road. Passing the Walgreens, she momentarily came out of her haze to remember she needed to pick up milk on her way home.

The sun beat down on her back as she rolled to another stop and clicked on her left blinker. It was a deceiving day, and the weather was the annoying temperature of hot-cold that made her debate whether or not to wear a jacket. She hated when it was like this. The earth just needed to make up its mind. Gloomy, cold, rainy days? That was fine. Hot, sunny, sweltering days? Again, fine. But this in-between sun's-out-but-it's-still-bloody-freezing type weather was ridiculous. Her frozen fingers unzipped the front of her heavy jacket before heading off again, cursing the sun for heating her up enough to sweat while her hands stayed numb.

Rey was ready to get to the bar, knowing that the work would get her mind off of whether or not her offer on the house went through. It had been a constant thought since she had talked with the realtor the day before, and it bugged her during any spare second of the day. The house was small and relatively kept but not without its issues, and the final price Rey gave was as high as she would be able to go considering the renovations it needed. Rey just hoped it was enough to convince the owners to sell it to her.

She had talked to Luke about it the day before, sharing her hope that the deal would go through. He helped in reassuring her, explaining the extreme unlikeliness that they wouldn't accept an offer on a house that has been on the market for ages. But then, as per usual, her brain went on a race around the world, rushing to jump to any anxious thought.

Rey didn't know why this house was so important, but there was a reason she kept gravitating toward it. She couldn't get it out of her mind, even as she looked at other places that were considerably better than the quaint old house that needed a lot of tender love and care. That was the major issue with it; It needed fixing. That was one of the points that Finn had argued when he tried to sway her opinion onto another home, but Rey could see its potential. The image of the house all fixed and pretty and wholly hers, It was too good to pass up.

Rey turned into the parking lot for the bar and saw that Luke was already there, his car parked in his (non-designated) designated spot. She turned the bike to park next to him and switched off the ignition before grabbing the towel in her saddlebag and hopping off, routinely laying it over the seat even though she'd likely drive home after the sun had set and the leather would have already cooled from its rays. She had learned her lesson from drives before, and since the week of consistently burning her rear, the practice had become habit.

"Good afternoon," Rey said as she entered the freshly opened bar, raising her voice so that Luke could hear her from the back. A muffled hello was all the response she needed to know she wouldn't scare the daylights out of him like she had a week prior when she frightened him so bad he dropped a bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor. She made her way to the bar as she stripped off her outer layers and took off her sunglasses. After storing her items in the cubby underneath the counter Rey walked to the bathroom, makeup bag in hand.

She followed the daily pre-customer routine relishing in the few moments alone before the rush of afternooners because even though she loved all of the conversation it did get tiring. Rey touched up what little makeup she had on before going to work on her hair. Her helmet was an item she would never ride without— she's seen far too many fatal accidents to not— however it left her with a slightly more mussed look than Rey felt was socially acceptable for work.