Disregard To Danger (ManxMan)

Tumbling down one by one. (12)

I need to find my own house. Not that I don't appreciate Kendall and Monroe's generosity, because I do. It's just, I need to feel at home. Here? This isn't my home. I'm a guest. A temporary stop in my adventure.
I get a good amount of money from my tour in the army, but it's not enough. I need to get a job if I want to move out. I just don't know what I want to do. Kendall says that I have to find my passion. This stumped me. For years my teachers avoided looking at me, yet alone telling me to follow my dreams. I never had the chance of thinking of my future. Sure, I knew I wanted to get out of there. That's for sure, but I never said that I want to be an architecture or a teacher. I never had that drive.
The drive that Holden has with everything he does. He wants to improve with every step he takes, and I'm envious of that. He's going somewhere... While I'm not.
The conversation with Quincy drifted into my mind. What is my present? Trying to put the pain in my leg to the back of my mind? Trying to make it through the day? That's no way to love life. I know that. That's why I need to get out of my comfort zone.
Monroe offered me a job, but I don't want to be viewed as a loafer. I want to make my own success. Just like I did in the military. I earned respect. I can do it again. I just have to find my passion.
With that in mind I took out my phone. Typing in classes at the local college. I knew that I'd need some form of education. I don't just want a job, I want a career. Something that I see myself doing for years to come.
I might as well start with something basic. Maybe general business. I click into it and start the application process. The military pays for any education, so I know that I don't have to worry about tuition fees, or what not. After a few more minutes I sit back in bed, sighing silently.
I glance at the clock and cuss under my breath. It's Friday night, and I'm home alone. Kendall and Monroe are at the club, so they will probably arrive at a late hour and doing... Activities that I do not want to hear. I grip at my thigh as I sit up. Knowing that I should probably try to go to the gym. There's a local one right around the corner that would do.
Ideally I would have a home gym. Yet, this would do for now. I walk slowly to my closet. Searching for my work out clothes. I pull my army tank top of my head. The sound of my dog tags jingling filling the air.
It's the only thing that I can't live with out. For there's months of being in the hospital it was the only thing keeping me sane. I would grip it in my hand. Thinking of my troops, the people I lost. The people who survived. As well as the live ahead of me. The promises I made to come home.
I worked towards that goal. Pushing through the pain, and hours of sweating and tears. When the doctors finally told me that I was fine to be released, I almost ignored the pain in my leg. Wanting to jump up and down in joy. I refrained of course. That would just land me back where I was.
My doctors would always ask if I were sure that not telling my family was the best solution. I kept to my answer. I didn't want to worry the only people who care about me. Knowing that in a couple months I'll be fine. Back to my normal self. I knew that with time I would have to tell them. When they saw the scar on my leg, they would know. I didn't like lying, so I'm just waiting for the best moment to tell them. It's been almost two weeks since I returned and that moment hasn't popped up.
I lock the door behind me, and head down to the main floor. Smiling at anybody that I pass. I know that my appearance can be intimidating. Towering at six foot five, with scars marking my face. I am a sight to see for sure. I've always hated my scars. They show my weakness. The years of abuse, the many battles I fought at war. I should be proud, I know. I just can't bring myself to love how I look.
I tighten my jacket around me as the cold air rushes at me. I curse myself mentally for deciding to go to the gym when it's this cold. Another thing I need to get is a car, but that can wait.
It doesn't take me long to make it to the gym. I sigh in relief when the hot air hits me. Causing the blood to begin circulating once again.
"Hi! How may I help you!" A cheery voice greets me. I turn towards the voice and smile at the young teenage girl.
"Hi, I want to sign up for a membership." I tell her. She nods and quickly hands me paper clipped to a bright orange clip board.
"Of course. Just fill this out. Then we'll figure out the payments." She replies. I nod at her and go to sit down in the chairs. I quickly fill out the questions before handing the clipboard back to the receptionist. In minutes I'm on a treadmill building up to a slight jog.
"Well, hello soldier." A familiar voice sounds beside me. I look over and spot Quincy on the treadmill a couple down from my own.
"Hey. How's it going?" I ask him. Trying not to glance down at his shirtless body.
"Well, I'm having a hard time finding a place to stay. I kinda sorta went against my parents wishes. I don't want to go to a stupid boarding school." He mutters. A frown on his face.
"I'm in the same boat as you. Well, not the boarding school thing." I say. Chuckling along with him. The pain in my leg is steadily getting worse. I haven't been using it enough. I should have listened to the doctors.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asks me. Worry coating his words.
"Uh, yeah. I should be fine." I tell him.
"Of your legs hurting..." He begins but I cut him off.
"My legs fine. I'm just out of shape." I tell him.
"If you're out of shape, I'm a potato." He jokes.
"You're far from a potato, Quincy. You have nothing to worry about." I whisper. He looks over at me with a blush, opening his mouth to say something. Before he gets the chance, my leg gives out. Causing me to go hurdling off of the treadmill. I grunt loudly. My leg throbbing madly. I hear Quincy curse loudly before he rushes over, bending down to check if I'm injured.
"Fuck, Walker. Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital? I don't know where it is but I could ask..."I interrupt him once again. Finding his rambling highly amusing.
"No, no. I'm fine. I've had enough of hospitals for the rest of my life." I mutter. Trying to sit up. Wincing as pain shoots through my body.
"Come on, let's get you home." He says. Smiling at me softly with his hand out stretched.
"Home sounds nice." I whisper. Looking into his bright green eyes. Flecks of gold making them even more gorgeous.