calamity / dreamnotfound

Fresh Rain

tw// mention of blood/wound (not graphic)

George was getting more irritated by the second. He put his plastic cup down on the counter forcefully to grab their attention and walked over to the bar where Clay and Nick stood. "Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!"

"Just tell him. He knows this much already." Clay told Nick, who sighed and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

"Okay, fair enough. George, me and Clay are, erm, business partners. And tonight we were trying to merge businesses with this girl and her operation but she pulled out of the deal and instead ransacked our products."

George disliked the ambiguity of his statement. "Products? Business? I thought you worked in an auto garage."

Nick shifted nervously. "Well--I mean, physically, yes. It's an auto garage. But Clay and I don't fix cars."

"Well what do you..." George felt his stomach drop with realization. "Are you drug dealers?!"

"Not personally, no," Clay spoke up calmly. "We're distributors. Just a tiny link in the long chain."

George stared at him, as if how he worded it would make their business legitimate. George took his hand off the counter, wondering if everything around him came from illegal drug money. "So when you said you got demoted and needed a roommate..."

"Our supplier got busted and we took a hit for a few weeks so I needed help with rent, yeah. We had to scramble to find a new guy, but this one's more expensive--"

"Nick, we need to call the others--even meet them at the garage tonight." Clay interrupted. George noticed he was picking at his fingers inside his green hoodie pocket. He looked tired in the full light. "I'll call them."

Nick noticed his state as well. "They can't see you all busted up like that. Clean up and I'll call them."

"Oh...I suppose you're right." He started toward the bathroom, and George realized Clay had already been here multiple times before. It made him uneasy.

Feeling rather useless, George decided to stay in the kitchen with Nick. He had known Nick for years and not once did he ever suspect his involvement in street drugs. He stared at his roommate expectantly.

Nick fished out his phone and finally looked up at George. "I...I know this isn't what you were expecting."

"You could have at least told me he was coming," He felt his face heat up. "That some stranger was going to bust in here in the middle of the night."

"You're right, I'm sorry, I'm just not used to you living here yet," Nick said sincerely, looking up from his phone. "No more secrets."

George had a feeling that wasn't a guarantee Nick could make considering his line of work. Holding his phone between his shoulder and his ear, Nick wordlessly handed George a box of assorted bandages and pointed toward the bathroom.

He took the bandages begrudgingly and knocked softly on the door.

In a second, the door swung open and George's breathing hitched. Clay looked a lot different in the full lights of the bathroom. George could see his hair, which was disheveled and dark honey blond. His eyes were startlingly green, and George's stomach twisted at the sight of the bruise darkening over his cheek. And his lips--it seemed criminal that they were bleeding and split.

George cleared his throat and hoped he hadn't stared for as long as he thought he had. "Erm, Nick wanted to give you these." He said awkwardly. Clay turned back to the mirror and continued gingerly wiping the blood off his lip with a damp cloth.