[Recollé] Telenovela Ep1: Tony y Jack

[flyguy]

It couldn't be said Tony had ever been Jack's biggest fan. No, not the fondest of the guy. Downright animosity came to mind as a good descriptor. But he'd made...not nice, he was bad at nice, but he'd kept the more choice words in his mind and his hands in his pockets instead of arranged into fists planted in Jack's smug face.

All for Sofia's sake. Every last bit of it. She loved the guy. What more could he do for a friend who'd gotten him through some of his darker times than be supportive? If his feelings for her strayed a little deeper all the more reason to shut up and stick it out for her.

That wasn't Sofia at his door now though. Jack wasn't looking too hot and something about that put Tony on edge. He didn't move aside to let the other man in. "Looking for something? Hooters is right around the corner. They've got a great brunch line up."

Hi Jack. Nice to see you. Or not.

Comments

[hjack69]

They'd never played nice, but they'd played for Sofia's sake, and it's basically the only reason Jack's even here right now - because she'd want Tony to know exactly how it happened, not have him wonder for the rest of his life, and Jack... definitely owes her that much. He owes her so much more, but this is all he can do right now.

He doesn't have their little girl with him, and when Tony opens the door, Jack's eyes - well, the one that isn't nearly swollen shut - are squarely down.

And he's quiet. It's probably the worst indicator of all.

"I'm sorry." Jesus, his voice is wrecked. He leans heavily in the doorway - should still be in the hospital, honestly, but the thin sympathy when they told him about her mixed with the smell of antiseptic had driven him half-insane - and says it again, half-mumbling. "It's Soph. I'm sorry."

It doesn't make sense, but he doubts it even has to.

9 years later... Or some shit. Also I'm at work phone icon hunting is too painful

[flyguy]

"BAM!" The 6 ball goes in the corner pocket and Tony raises his arms up for his accolades as cheering and applause fill the bar. "That's how you play the game!"

He's wearing a suit, there's a fedora tipped jauntily on his head, expensive silk tie undone around his neck. He looks like a good couple thousand dollars because he's wearing a few k. Practically gold in cloth currency. There's a busty blond bombshell with an increasingly low crop top to his right and a brunette popping out of a vaguely buttoned buttondown to his left. Or at least that's the concept she's pushing. Doesn't matter. He doesn't care. Leaning in he slings an arm around both girls' shoulders. "Who's thirsty? Anyone? Anyone? Show of hands folks. Bar— another round for the room if you will!"

To say the small street corner bar is raucous and packed is an understatement. Hands pat Tony's back, people are shouting to him, congratulations all around. Another award on his book, he's just smashing them out of the park, way to go Tony. Accepting a beer from someone he tips his head back and chugs. As someone puts eurobeat on the jukebox and a soccer player scores a goal on the television. Not fireworks for the seemingly perfect moment, but hey it's close.