The Pompous and The Prick

Chapter 17: A New Hope

We are officially at or past the halfway point in the story! To Celebrate, I'm opening a Q&A! If you have any questions for me, you can comment, leave a review, or head over to my Tumblr and send an ask or message. I will try to compile them together and put them in a chapter, though, forgive me if it takes a while. ASK ME QUESTIONS I DEMAND IT!

The door opened to Blitz's apartment and he stood outside, looking in on the place he had lived for who knows how long, ". . . Man, what a dump."

"Are you going to go in?" Loona asked, waiting behind him.

He thought about it, he could turn right around and go to a bar, but then the only tv he could watch would be sports. Why couldn't bars play something interesting, like a kdrama, or my little pony?

"Yeah," he resigned himself, "I'm going in."

The pillows barely cushioned his fall as he landed face down on the couch. His hand searched blindly for the tv remote in vain. Loona placed it in his hand.

"You, uh, want to talk about it? Or just . . . Sit together?" Loona had never been taught how to be sensitive to other people's feelings, but she tried her best.

He turned his head just enough for her to hear him, "I'm sorry, Loony, I wanted to spend time with you today, I really did, but now I just want to be alone."

"It's fine, really. Just, let me know if you need anything, okay?" She swallowed her worry and guilt down, and went to her bedroom.

Blitz's mind immediately went back to all the things Stolas had said, so he turned on a rerun of an old Hell-a-Novela episode. He liked this one, the daughter's ex-boyfriend came back from prison but has amnesia from a gang-fight and doesn't remember her. A classic. Still, it wasn't loud enough a distraction, so he scrolled on his phone at the same time. His mind kept breaking free of his grasp and began racing through all the things he should've done and should've said, but it was too late. Nothing was working, so it was time to pull out the big guns.

Hay

He sent the text to a bunch of people on dating and social media apps, thinking that at least one person would want to hookup. That's what he told himself anyway, although he was really waiting on one message in particular.

Hello, how are you this evening?

Trent responded surprisingly quickly, as per usual. They had been chatting a little on Succuchat for awhile. Blitz had asked if he wanted to exchange selfies now, but Trent had said it might be fun to keep things mysterious, so they kept with the rules of Faceless Love; no pictures with people, or anything identifying for that matter. Blitz thought it was kind of hot to keep up the ambiguity, and was mildly concerned that he was talking to a registered s*x offender or something, but he had more than enough experience with weaponry to feel secure he could kill one guy if he did try something. And that was all assuming they would meet up someday, which he considered to be still up in the air. Blitz considered sending him something flirtatious, sarcastic, or dodging the question entirely. But he really did want to talk to someone, just not his daughter. Trent seemed like a very genuine guy, the kind of genuine that wrapped you up until you were tangled in it, too. The kind that made you slip up and tell the truth when you didn't mean, too. The kind that made you want to spill your secrets to an utter stranger, and watch him somehow make them float away, making the weight on your shoulders just a little bit lighter.

Blitz hated those types of people, all mushy, gushy and sensitive. He had too many secrets to protect to let them slip out.

Kimd of sh*t tbh