While having just been released from prison, due to a night full of misfortunate mistakes, Red McCoy witnesses an old friend of his, son being kicked out of his apartment in the middle of the night.
Beverly Reid had been living on his own since he...
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Red tugged on his boots, his electric toothbrush hanging from his mouth, as he laced his laces together. Although, he wasn't the best multitasker, he got the job done. His mornings were simple—he'd wake up at 3:30, get dressed, eat breakfast, and make his way to work, where he'd work on cars for the following eight hours.
But today, he couldn't help but worry. Would leaving Beverly there alone really be such a good idea? Maybe, he'd steal something, or maybe he'd run away.
Now, Red wasn't too worried about the ladder, but the last thing he needed was theft. Of all crimes.
So, without a second thought of a moments worth of hesitation, he made his way down the hallway and to Beverly's—room. He threw the door open abruptly, sighing to himself as he momentarily watched Beverly sleep soundly.
Too bad he'd have to disrupt.
He flicked the light switch on. "Alright, kid, get up, and get dressed. We're going to work." Then, Beverly's door was slammed shut. Beverly flinched, bringing a hand up to his chest.
Was that how Red always awakened his visitors—or guests? Because if so, Beverly was sure he could learn to cope.
But what did Red mean by work? Had he gotten Beverly a job? Or would Beverly spend the next eight to twelve hours watching Red work? And if he were being completely honest—he'd rather work, than watch Red work.
Then, his door were opening again. "Hey," Red seemed irritated now. "Are you trying to make me late?"
Beverly stood, muttering an apology beneath his breath. "I-I'm so sorry, I was just thinking—"
Red left without another word, not bothering to listen to the rest of Beverly's explanation. "Okay . . ."
As Beverly made his way to the living room, he frowned when realizing that Red was nowhere to be seen. Then, he heard it—the honking just outside of the small home. This had Beverly's fastening their steps out the door, and to Red's truck.
Red's jaw clenched, as Beverly tried his best to hoist himself into the truck. "Do you need help?"
The question wasn't sincere, and the annoyance was clear in Red's voice. "N-No, I can do it." Beverly fumbled with the seatbelt for a few moments, sending Red a sorry smile.
The drive was quiet, just as yesterday's had been. Beverly snuck a few glances over at Red, whose jaw clenched, and brown eyes pierced onto the road. His chocolate skin glistened in the sun, while all windows were rolled down.
"What do you do?"
"What?" Red spat, turning the wheel into the parking lot of Ed's Tires Motors.
"Oh." Beverly hurriedly hipped down from the truck, taking in his surroundings of working men in blue attires, hands greasy and foreheads sweaty.
"You're late, McCoy." A rough voice grumbled behind them. Beverly instinctively inched closer to Red.
"Back off, Donnie."
Everyone around them seemed to resemble Red in someway. They all held angry faces and clenched fists. Although, Beverly knew Red, and not any of those other guys. But he could easily see that Red wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be.
