𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐘 | (Under Construction)

12 | 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫'

"I told Angelina I wasn't going to deal with her bullshit anymore. I'm tired of hearing her high voice nit-picking at every little thing I do." A tall, well-built man strolled in cooly, loud and clear, for everyone to hear about his marital problems back home. Greg had just entered inside the garage with his sidekick Reggie, a British redhead exhausted from whatever he was doing. Hair pulled back in a messy bun wiping away the sweat, dirt and grime from off his face with a white rag.

The bastard was lazy at times, hardly got stuff done and yet still talked shit while he sits back on his leather chair critiquing everybody as he smokes a cigarette and drinks a few beers here and there.

They immediately head to one of the cars, examining the engine and making sure everything was good. Reggie stood beside him with crossed arms watching as Greg grabbed the keys and started the car up while intensively listening to him complain about his wife. "Why don't you divorce the woman? You've said it yourself that you were done with her." Reggie questions with a gravelly voice.

Greg steps out of the car and looks at Reggie, as if he was stupid. "If I do then I'm screwed, her whole family will be after me."

Reggie rolls his eyes, "tch, Jesus Christ." Greg married himself into a rich family who believed in fixing all their problems with money, yet he had been the black sheep in the family, falling in and out of love with his wife Angela for a while now. She happens to be very high maintenance with a snarky attitude. Lucas didn't understand how those two came about considering Greg was nothing of the wealthy sort and worked in a mechanic shop earning minimum wage and looked like your average Joe down the street.

Certainly, all his friends warned him not to marry her because he was eventually going to get annoyed by the woman, but no, he married the woman and now he wants to divorce her. Lucas could only shake his head, turning back to what he was doing, he had gotten out of the car to help the man with checking the engine.

"You got a lucky gal in your life yet?" Rocket asks, wiping the dirt from his fingers for a moment.

Lucas shrugs, gripping the edge of the car, "Uh not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Rocket inquires with a scoff, "What kind of answer is that? It's either yes or no, kid, which one is it?"

"I haven't asked her out yet..." He clarifies.

"But you like her?"

"Yeah. . ."

"So, this tenderoni, is she sweet? Nice? Easy on the eyes? Beautiful? Does she give you that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach every time she's around?"

Lucas nods with a hidden smile, "She's a gorgeous girl, I really like her."

"Then why don't you ask her out?"

"She's tough, ya know? Hard as nails, sometimes it's difficult to get through to her. She also thinks I want her for the wrong things."

"Well, do you?"

"At first, yes, but down the line . . . I changed my mind."

"Hmm," With a sigh, Rocket throws the towel on the table, and turns towards the car. "When I was your age, I used to be a charming fella, had a thing with the ladies from time to time and would occasionally get myself in trouble but nothing too serious, until I met my late wife." He chuckles, shaking his head at the memory, "Now that woman . . . she was a piece of work, but Lord knows she was a sweet lady."

The mention of his wife made Lucas' ears perk up. There was a different tone to his voice Lucas had never recognized, a curious glint in his eyes at the way Rocket described her showed nothing more but admiration over his face. When he sat down on the stool staring attentively in interest, Lucas couldn't help but to think of all the years he's known Rocket, he's never been the one to get mushy and talk so seriously. Hearing him speak on this was heartfelt and sweet.