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“You can’t just get into fights with people, Will.” Skylar sighed “This isn’t Boston.”
She took out another disinfectant wipe and dabbed Will’s cheek. Blood mixed with the moist wipe creating a blotchy pattern that matched the small pile of other wipes on the bed.
“Sky, Baby, I’m trying. I really am.” Will said sheepishly. He had one arm resting on his lap with his wrist held in his resting palm protectively. Will was hunched over slightly hiding the bruises that covered his bare chest. Skylar had removed his shirt earlier to make tending to his wounds easier.
Skylar covered the cut on his face with a small bandaid then moved onto his wrist. Blood was dripping from his wrist where one of the guys at the bar had punched him. The drunk had an big ass ugly ring, it could do a number on someone that’s for sure. Will knew from experience.
“You need to find a hobby and make some friends. Try avoiding the bar and go to…” Skylar paused to think “..a woodworking class or join a recreational group. Just something to keep you occupied.”
“I’m no woodpecker, I can’t carve for shit.” Will commented. Then he jumped as Skylar slapped his knee.
“You know what I mean! Just do something! Get out of my hair and stop causing trouble. I’m not your mother dammit!” She rose up from the bed knocking over the first aid kit.
“Tend to your own wounds and find another place to stay tonight!” Skylar sighed “please.”
“Sky–“
“Please! I don’t want you here!”
Will nodded his head silently. He bent down ignoring the way his wounds protested and he picked up the spilt first aid kit. Will then left the apartment with only the clothes on on his back and the junk in his pockets.
Will was tempted to go back to the bar but Skylar’s words prevented him. He really was a burden. He was a walking trouble magnet. It didn’t matter if he started the fight or someone else, he was always to blame. Will kicked a rock knocking it into the road.
He let his feet lead him wherever until he realized where he was. Standing in front of a local Chinese place. Home to greasy noodles and deep fried chicken balls. Will’s stomach and heart ached. Back in Boston he would eat Chinese food with his buddies. Chuckie would always flirt with the cashier. And Morgan and Will would always take turns tossing food into each others mouths. Sometimes Billy would even join in too, though he always threw the food way too far. Will smiled sadly.
He went in briefly, only long enough to gather a few weird stares for his rugged appearance and to grab his food. Will stumbled over to a bench and practically fell into a seated position. He opened the bag and proceeded to stuff his face with greasy Chinese.
The sky was dark but the city lights made everything as bright as day. Will eyed the food in the light and a sudden sick feeling washed over him. New York never slept and neither did Will. It would always be like this. Fight then leave, then love, then fight, then leave, then what? Fuck he just wanted to be home again. He missed his friends so bad. Fuck New York.
Just as Will was about to throw out the bag he remembered something. The fortune cookie as dumb as it sounded, might be able to help.
Even if it offered weird advice or even if it might be an ad he didn’t care. Will just needed something familiar.
The cookie was smashed slightly but Will didn’t plan on eating it anyway. Instead, he focused on the fortune.
“You are going to be okay, but maybe not in the way you planned to be.” He read.
Tears clouded his vision and he wiped them away with the back of his wrist.
He’ll be okay.
He had to be.