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Apollo
- Thread starter blake16
- Start date
Last Installment
Thanks for your support guys! Hope you liked the story. Keep the e-mails and comments coming, I love them.
-Morning.
Mark arched up to see Liam smiling down on him. All reconciling was over. Everything that could be said had been said through the pounding rain on Mark’s patio the night earlier. They kissed, and again Mark felt himself melt into this savior next to him, felt their bodies bound together. And although both men wanted desperately to explain once more their regrets, and their apologies, it would mean breaking their kiss, which right now was speaking volumes. Liam’s hands grasped Mark’s hair and massaged his neck and back as they kissed, eventually exploring down his body and reaching his already hard cock. Mark pushed at his hand gently.
-We shouldn’t…until I hear the results.
-The results don’t change anything, if you’re sick, I’m sick with you.
Mark laughed to himself at Liam’s pigheaded dedication to him. But Liam recognized his look and knew to back off, smiling to himself and closing his eyes. The phone cut through the thick silence. Mark glanced up and Liam quickly, his expression stone. Liam reached over to grab the phone and picked it up before it could ring again and disrupt their peaceful ignorance.
-Hi. Yeah he’s here with me.—Alright.—No.—I will, I’ll tell him.—Thank you.
Liam turned back to Mark.
-You’re fine sweetheart. You’re fine. They want you to go back in a few months to make sure that it wasn’t dormant, but they said the risk is minute given your exposure. You’re safe baby. You’re safe.
Mark was weeping, hardly tears of joy, but an immediate sympathy knowing that he was safe, and Silas was not. Liam knew, and held him while they waited for the sun to rise. To start their day over with each other, with their future ahead.
Meanwhile across town, Donovan pulled up to 4377, an old warehouse just like the one described over the phone. The man hadn’t given his name, but he knew that he was from the Red Thirties, and he knew that the man on the other side would be able to end this misery, end this emptiness inside of him that had existed since Margot found out, since everything changed. Inside it smelled of mildew. At the end of the enormous hangar sat a broad brown table, a man in a jean jacket and a man with sunglasses on the other side, as well as a few men gathered around a van nearby. The walk seemed to take forever as the men eyed him. He spoke across the room, his voice echoing on the dirt floor and corrugated tin walls around him.
-Hi.
-You have the money?
The man in the sunglasses spoke with a light accent and Jean Jacket crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Donovan pulled a wad of cash, four thousand in twenties, and threw it in front of them on the table. Jean Jacket proceeded to unroll the money and counted it quicker than Donovan imagined he could have. Sunglasses pulled a roll of packing paper that was bundled tight with tweed and tossed it to Donovan who caught it against his chest, and began unraveling the string.
-What the fuck are you doing? You can’t push off here.
-I just want to make sure it’s all there.
-Don’t fuck with us, man. It’s three ounces, it’s what you paid for. Heroine. Pure.
He breathed a heavy sigh, knowing what would come next, what would be waiting for him when he got home. He smiled at the men behind the table as he backed away.
-That’s all I needed to know.
And as Donovan strode out of the warehouse, swarms of outfitted SWAT officers ran in hoards from every crevice of the building to apprehend the men. Donovan detached the microphone from his coat and handed it to Officer Deitrich as he passed his vehicle, handing the brown bag to Bentley as he made his way to his car. The Red Thirties had been taken down.
The Apollo was rebuilt. Penny and Oliver decided to close the bar for a week while it underwent renovations, their first mutual decision in what seemed like years. When Friday hit, they opened early to awaiting crowds and a decent lunch rush, testing some new patrons in anticipation for their Saturday grand re-opening. Liam worked the lunch shift while Mark swam downstairs, waiting for him to start his break. As Liam poured a rye, he heard shouting from across the bar, coming from the kitchen.
-Liam!
Tim rushed around the corner and came behind the bar, his heart racing, his eyes red and glazed.
-This better be a fucking joke. Donovan tells me that you might be back together with Mark?
-Can we talk about this after?
-No. Fuck you, you’re joking. He’s a dirt bag, a fucking jealous queen. You know he is, you’re so much better. I fucking loved you.
-Tim give me a second, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.
-You shit, I’ll kill you.
In a flash, Tim lunged at Liam, wrestling him to the ground and pounding at his chest and face with a panicked roar. He smelled like he had been drinking. Liam, who could have easily overpowered him, still felt the eyes of people sitting at the bar looking at him as he tried to subdue Tim without hurting him. Suddenly, Tim’s arms were pulled back, and he was lifted off the ground. When Liam stood, he was greeted by two police officers he didn’t recognize who brought Tim’s hands behind his back and cuffed him as he spat and swore at Liam.
-What the fuck are you doing?
-Liam Walsh, you’re under arrest for drug possession and trafficking. [FONT="]You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to be speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.[/FONT]
[FONT="]And with that, Tim was busted. Donovan sauntered out of the kitchen and stood by Liam as they watched him being dragged out of the bar. Donovan spoke with a renewed spirit in his voice that Liam hadn’t noticed.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]They got Russ too. Took him in last night. ‘Pastor sent to prison’.[/FONT]
[FONT="]He shook his head as he paced back to the kitchen, and Liam shook off the experience and tried his best to remain composed as he continued working.[/FONT]
[FONT="] Downstairs, Mark finished a final set of bench presses, struggling with the tenth push up, when a set of hands helped him back up to the bar rest. He sat up to see Silas, notably subdued in a t-shirt and jeans. Mark smiled at him, taken aback by his strength.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]You’re doing well.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I’m not dead Mark, I’m sick. And not even that sick. [/FONT]
[FONT="]He took a seat next to Mark on the bench.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]My doctor says I caught it as quickly as I could have, which is lucky, and that as long as I can keep to the prescription he has me on, I can live like this never happened, like I used to.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]Silas you can’t be serious.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]No not sleeping around, dumbass. Living like I’m not going to die, without fear, without regret of what happened, of us. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Mark smiled and looked at Silas on the bench, his eyes much softer than he remembered.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I have to let you know, I’m back with Liam. [/FONT]
-[FONT="]I figured. That’s good, you two deserve each other. You’re lucky, you know that?[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I do. And you’ll find someone. You will.[/FONT]
[FONT="]Silas patted Mark lightly on the back and stood, walking past the pool and out of the room a different man. It was a change that Mark couldn’t quite put his finger on, but knew that it was strong enough to stay changed for good.[/FONT]
[FONT="] Saturday night brought all of the staff together after opening on the patio, finally ready for public, safety railing and all. Surveying the crowd, Oliver took a seat on a ledge and sipped from his wine. Penny took a seat next to him. He spoke first.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I’m sorry.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]For what?[/FONT]
-[FONT="]For Russ. [/FONT]
-[FONT="]It’s my fault too. It’s both of out faults. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Oliver laughed to himself as he looked over his employees, drinking and carrying on. He beamed with that same pride that he had on the first day that the Apollo had opened. He had created this world, this environment, these relationships. The father of this family growing around him. Penny sighed.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]It’s his fault Oliver. It’s Russ’ fault he’s in prison. We raised him like our parents would have. We raised him as best we could. What do you do with your children when their done being raised? What any good parent would do. You let them go. We let him go and he self destructed. We can blame ourselves all day long, but nothing will make him who we wanted him to be. Just like I can’t make you who I want you to be.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]This year Penny…everything—[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I know. Don’t take it back Oliver. Don’t take anything that happened back, or you’ll regret it. You made this place what it is, the success that it is. Have faith in its triumph, in its failure too. Our failure. You made this place, and we’ll run it. Together.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I love you.[/FONT]
[FONT="]Penny smiled at Oliver, knowing that her first step towards moving on with her life had begun, but being vastly aware that he would be there for the ride, her confidante and soul mate. Oliver stood and grabbed a microphone from the stand beside him. He looked at the familiar faces in front of him as they spoke. Margot sat on one of the cushions looking up at the sky with Donovan’s head on her lap, her hand combing through his hair delicately. Beside them Mark and Liam, content next to one another hand in hand, smiling at each other and their friends around them. And further down, sitting on the ledge of the roof was Silas Torry and Curtis who was laughing at one of his jokes. Two men transformed by their mistakes, forging friendship through their perseverance in the wake of tragedy. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Cuing to Oscar in the booth, the music dimmed as Oliver spoke.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]Ladies and Gentlemen, I want to thank you all for coming tonight. Thank you for all of your hard work and dedication, countless hours you’ve spent in this establishment creating the environment we all know as home. Your efforts are invaluable. I couldn’t have anticipated the struggle, the ambition, the drive, and the triumph that would eventually transpire here. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished and what you’ve become with this company. I use this term loosely, because company doesn’t quite encapsulate what the Apollo means to me. This is my home. You are my family. I love this place and these people. Our re-opening means not a completion of a task, but rather a continuation of what has already developed. Through thick and thin, I wouldn’t change one aspect of this year, and I thank you all for that.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]As the crowd applauded around Oliver’s tear-streamed face, the group of friends couldn’t help but agree with him. Nothing from this year should be regretted, or taken back. From every fight comes peace, from every tragedy comes triumph, and from every loss comes a lesson. In each others arms and in each others lives they would stay forever.[/FONT]
Thanks for your support guys! Hope you liked the story. Keep the e-mails and comments coming, I love them.
Chapter 18: Re-Opening
That night it rained. Cuddled into a mass of feathers and cotton, Mark slept in Liam’s arms, and for the moment couldn’t even remember what he was worried about, forgot about imaginary swollen glands, white spots, polluted blood. Right now he was a boy again, new, in the arms of a man, his man. Nothing else mattered but the heat that existed between him, that poured his pain and regret out through his pores, cleansed his fear. Liam’s chest rose and fell, rose for a moment, and let out a sigh.-Morning.
Mark arched up to see Liam smiling down on him. All reconciling was over. Everything that could be said had been said through the pounding rain on Mark’s patio the night earlier. They kissed, and again Mark felt himself melt into this savior next to him, felt their bodies bound together. And although both men wanted desperately to explain once more their regrets, and their apologies, it would mean breaking their kiss, which right now was speaking volumes. Liam’s hands grasped Mark’s hair and massaged his neck and back as they kissed, eventually exploring down his body and reaching his already hard cock. Mark pushed at his hand gently.
-We shouldn’t…until I hear the results.
-The results don’t change anything, if you’re sick, I’m sick with you.
Mark laughed to himself at Liam’s pigheaded dedication to him. But Liam recognized his look and knew to back off, smiling to himself and closing his eyes. The phone cut through the thick silence. Mark glanced up and Liam quickly, his expression stone. Liam reached over to grab the phone and picked it up before it could ring again and disrupt their peaceful ignorance.
-Hi. Yeah he’s here with me.—Alright.—No.—I will, I’ll tell him.—Thank you.
Liam turned back to Mark.
-You’re fine sweetheart. You’re fine. They want you to go back in a few months to make sure that it wasn’t dormant, but they said the risk is minute given your exposure. You’re safe baby. You’re safe.
Mark was weeping, hardly tears of joy, but an immediate sympathy knowing that he was safe, and Silas was not. Liam knew, and held him while they waited for the sun to rise. To start their day over with each other, with their future ahead.
Meanwhile across town, Donovan pulled up to 4377, an old warehouse just like the one described over the phone. The man hadn’t given his name, but he knew that he was from the Red Thirties, and he knew that the man on the other side would be able to end this misery, end this emptiness inside of him that had existed since Margot found out, since everything changed. Inside it smelled of mildew. At the end of the enormous hangar sat a broad brown table, a man in a jean jacket and a man with sunglasses on the other side, as well as a few men gathered around a van nearby. The walk seemed to take forever as the men eyed him. He spoke across the room, his voice echoing on the dirt floor and corrugated tin walls around him.
-Hi.
-You have the money?
The man in the sunglasses spoke with a light accent and Jean Jacket crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Donovan pulled a wad of cash, four thousand in twenties, and threw it in front of them on the table. Jean Jacket proceeded to unroll the money and counted it quicker than Donovan imagined he could have. Sunglasses pulled a roll of packing paper that was bundled tight with tweed and tossed it to Donovan who caught it against his chest, and began unraveling the string.
-What the fuck are you doing? You can’t push off here.
-I just want to make sure it’s all there.
-Don’t fuck with us, man. It’s three ounces, it’s what you paid for. Heroine. Pure.
He breathed a heavy sigh, knowing what would come next, what would be waiting for him when he got home. He smiled at the men behind the table as he backed away.
-That’s all I needed to know.
And as Donovan strode out of the warehouse, swarms of outfitted SWAT officers ran in hoards from every crevice of the building to apprehend the men. Donovan detached the microphone from his coat and handed it to Officer Deitrich as he passed his vehicle, handing the brown bag to Bentley as he made his way to his car. The Red Thirties had been taken down.
The Apollo was rebuilt. Penny and Oliver decided to close the bar for a week while it underwent renovations, their first mutual decision in what seemed like years. When Friday hit, they opened early to awaiting crowds and a decent lunch rush, testing some new patrons in anticipation for their Saturday grand re-opening. Liam worked the lunch shift while Mark swam downstairs, waiting for him to start his break. As Liam poured a rye, he heard shouting from across the bar, coming from the kitchen.
-Liam!
Tim rushed around the corner and came behind the bar, his heart racing, his eyes red and glazed.
-This better be a fucking joke. Donovan tells me that you might be back together with Mark?
-Can we talk about this after?
-No. Fuck you, you’re joking. He’s a dirt bag, a fucking jealous queen. You know he is, you’re so much better. I fucking loved you.
-Tim give me a second, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.
-You shit, I’ll kill you.
In a flash, Tim lunged at Liam, wrestling him to the ground and pounding at his chest and face with a panicked roar. He smelled like he had been drinking. Liam, who could have easily overpowered him, still felt the eyes of people sitting at the bar looking at him as he tried to subdue Tim without hurting him. Suddenly, Tim’s arms were pulled back, and he was lifted off the ground. When Liam stood, he was greeted by two police officers he didn’t recognize who brought Tim’s hands behind his back and cuffed him as he spat and swore at Liam.
-What the fuck are you doing?
-Liam Walsh, you’re under arrest for drug possession and trafficking. [FONT="]You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to be speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.[/FONT]
[FONT="]And with that, Tim was busted. Donovan sauntered out of the kitchen and stood by Liam as they watched him being dragged out of the bar. Donovan spoke with a renewed spirit in his voice that Liam hadn’t noticed.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]They got Russ too. Took him in last night. ‘Pastor sent to prison’.[/FONT]
[FONT="]He shook his head as he paced back to the kitchen, and Liam shook off the experience and tried his best to remain composed as he continued working.[/FONT]
[FONT="] Downstairs, Mark finished a final set of bench presses, struggling with the tenth push up, when a set of hands helped him back up to the bar rest. He sat up to see Silas, notably subdued in a t-shirt and jeans. Mark smiled at him, taken aback by his strength.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]You’re doing well.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I’m not dead Mark, I’m sick. And not even that sick. [/FONT]
[FONT="]He took a seat next to Mark on the bench.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]My doctor says I caught it as quickly as I could have, which is lucky, and that as long as I can keep to the prescription he has me on, I can live like this never happened, like I used to.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]Silas you can’t be serious.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]No not sleeping around, dumbass. Living like I’m not going to die, without fear, without regret of what happened, of us. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Mark smiled and looked at Silas on the bench, his eyes much softer than he remembered.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I have to let you know, I’m back with Liam. [/FONT]
-[FONT="]I figured. That’s good, you two deserve each other. You’re lucky, you know that?[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I do. And you’ll find someone. You will.[/FONT]
[FONT="]Silas patted Mark lightly on the back and stood, walking past the pool and out of the room a different man. It was a change that Mark couldn’t quite put his finger on, but knew that it was strong enough to stay changed for good.[/FONT]
[FONT="] Saturday night brought all of the staff together after opening on the patio, finally ready for public, safety railing and all. Surveying the crowd, Oliver took a seat on a ledge and sipped from his wine. Penny took a seat next to him. He spoke first.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I’m sorry.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]For what?[/FONT]
-[FONT="]For Russ. [/FONT]
-[FONT="]It’s my fault too. It’s both of out faults. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Oliver laughed to himself as he looked over his employees, drinking and carrying on. He beamed with that same pride that he had on the first day that the Apollo had opened. He had created this world, this environment, these relationships. The father of this family growing around him. Penny sighed.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]It’s his fault Oliver. It’s Russ’ fault he’s in prison. We raised him like our parents would have. We raised him as best we could. What do you do with your children when their done being raised? What any good parent would do. You let them go. We let him go and he self destructed. We can blame ourselves all day long, but nothing will make him who we wanted him to be. Just like I can’t make you who I want you to be.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]This year Penny…everything—[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I know. Don’t take it back Oliver. Don’t take anything that happened back, or you’ll regret it. You made this place what it is, the success that it is. Have faith in its triumph, in its failure too. Our failure. You made this place, and we’ll run it. Together.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]I love you.[/FONT]
[FONT="]Penny smiled at Oliver, knowing that her first step towards moving on with her life had begun, but being vastly aware that he would be there for the ride, her confidante and soul mate. Oliver stood and grabbed a microphone from the stand beside him. He looked at the familiar faces in front of him as they spoke. Margot sat on one of the cushions looking up at the sky with Donovan’s head on her lap, her hand combing through his hair delicately. Beside them Mark and Liam, content next to one another hand in hand, smiling at each other and their friends around them. And further down, sitting on the ledge of the roof was Silas Torry and Curtis who was laughing at one of his jokes. Two men transformed by their mistakes, forging friendship through their perseverance in the wake of tragedy. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Cuing to Oscar in the booth, the music dimmed as Oliver spoke.[/FONT]
-[FONT="]Ladies and Gentlemen, I want to thank you all for coming tonight. Thank you for all of your hard work and dedication, countless hours you’ve spent in this establishment creating the environment we all know as home. Your efforts are invaluable. I couldn’t have anticipated the struggle, the ambition, the drive, and the triumph that would eventually transpire here. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished and what you’ve become with this company. I use this term loosely, because company doesn’t quite encapsulate what the Apollo means to me. This is my home. You are my family. I love this place and these people. Our re-opening means not a completion of a task, but rather a continuation of what has already developed. Through thick and thin, I wouldn’t change one aspect of this year, and I thank you all for that.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]As the crowd applauded around Oliver’s tear-streamed face, the group of friends couldn’t help but agree with him. Nothing from this year should be regretted, or taken back. From every fight comes peace, from every tragedy comes triumph, and from every loss comes a lesson. In each others arms and in each others lives they would stay forever.[/FONT]
Craiger
JUB Addict
A delightful ending to a great story, Blake. Somehow I wish I could be a part of the Apollo, surrounded by family and friends. What a cool place to work.
Now, tell us what is in store for us in the future. I look forward to more of your writing.
Craiger
Now, tell us what is in store for us in the future. I look forward to more of your writing.
Craiger
Just an update guys! I have a literary agent in Vancouver that I've submitted this concept to and we're in the process of reworking and broadening some elements to submit it to publishers. Thanks for all the support, I'll keep you posted!