out of touch,

clinging to the remnants of perfection like most do after they break it-----------

he was finished with today. the text from his sister had used up his reserves of patience. he was a closer tonight, which worked for him since he was actually planning on going home to sleep afterward and recharge for his evening which would be made up of the same thing every night—alcohol and bad mistakes. shaking his head, he ripped off the piece of paper that he had scribbled in order on and stuck it into the line with the others for the cook to make. it was going to be his final one as the place had turned into a ghost town. everyone was home on a sunday, with their families, talking about the upcoming events of the week while carson could not picture doing that again, ever. he could not even fathom how he had done it in the past but he figured that his mother’s mere existence and those puppy dog eyes had something to do it with. she kept him on the right track and with her gone, what was the point? he rarely thought of this but being in the back area, by himself, left to his thoughts, gave him a set up for those deeper thoughts. usually his thoughts were quite primeval, mostly catering to his hormones that were still quite prominent in this young adult phase but alcohol and the occasional taste of a white pill (though that was a habit that he had kicked) helped to enhance it. sex, more alcohol, partying, and dancing were basically all that he wanted to do but right now, he had to work. while standing in the back, people had passed by and stared at him as carson’s eyes were vacant and he was staring off into the space but the bell’s chime pulled him back and he shook his head rapidly, his eyes darting around to see that he was in fact still at work and had just dozed off. he could not wait for tonight.

grabbing the hot plates, he walked back into the diner and placed them in front of the ladies that ordered it. he had some small talk and then winked to one, causing the two to giggle as they ate while he walked away. those were the easiest tables to get the best tips. ”how much do you think this time?”, his head swivelled to his left to find a fellow young waiter, ”six bucks and the left’s phone number.” before sliding away from the counter and walking by with a quick glance to both ladies, lingering on the girl sitting in the left booth before carson circled back around, ”might get both numbers.”, the fellow waiter chuckled and patted him on the shoulder which made carson tense. he hated public displays of affection, or really any affection, his eyes narrowed as he watched his co-worker walk away, grumbling under his breath. his coworkers had known him long enough to know that carson was not that kind of person but this boy was new, it could slide this once. as the girls rose from their table after finishing their meal, carson turned his back and pretended to do something behind the counter—just rearranging the extra ketchup bottles to make himself look busy. at the last moment, he turned to look at their retreating forms and he gave them a wave which was returned as they exited out the doors. smirking, carson slid out from under the counter and walked over to the table, finding exactly what he had predicted; six dollars and the girl’s number. and he was finished with that final sale. tucking the tip and the number into his pocket, carson walked back behind the counter and clocked out. opening his locker, he spotted a ball sitting at the bottom. it was left there for these kinds of nights, when he had with the world. it was calling for him to be used and he sighed, putting it to the side while he changed. slipping out the backdoor, carson smacked into someone on the way to the ground, grunting as the ball connecting harshly with his stomach, ”watch it.”, aggressively speaking while he walked around them toward an empty field. the sun was beginning to set and nightfall was usually when he seen doing this since carson had not been actively seen playing with a soccer ball since he lost his scholarship. beginning to put it around on his knees, he started with a few basic tricks before he would work in more skill.

open, open space in park, outfit, 761, caution: he bites

the sun always rises -----

walking wasn't the way he'd planned to get home that afternoon, but it was the way that fate had intended him to travel. thanks to a dead battery he found himself enjoying the setting sun that shone down through the clouds as he walked through the park. which was quiet. maybe it was the time, he'd brought ranger down here to play with a few other kids on his days off and usually it was packed but he realised that it was a sunday and it was going to be dark soon and the park probably wasn't the best place for people to hang around when the sun went down, it wasn't lit in all places and it would have provided a good cover for misdoings. but at the moment it was fine and it wasn't as it eli would have a problem walking through the park at night anyway, but by the time that happened he planned to be home tucking his two year old into bed and falling onto the couch with a beer, possibly a comedy show and a packet of something unhealthy. it was one of those days and he car breaking down on him just as he finished a long shift was the icing on the cake so he figured he'd earned it. besides he liked junk. there wasn't anything wrong with it. stretching his arms out to the sides he felt his back crack and he folded them to rest on his head, not really paying any attention to the world around him. why should he? he wasn't working at the moment and he wouldn't have to go back for forty eight hours so he figured the world might be able to do without his attention for a while. sometimes he regretted going into the line of work he had, well he never regretted starting his career but he did feel guilty at times for keeping it up now he had his kid. after all there were a lo of nights that he wasn't there to put his kid to sleep and often he wasn't there when he woke up in the morning.

it made it hard but while eli had been thinking of changing jobs there wasn't anything he'd wanted to even think of doing. though he was lucky, he might have a demanding job with horrible hours but it was more than his ex had which is what had given him a slight edge in the custody battle. he couldn't help but smirk a little at the thought of his ex wife proclaiming that his job would be one of his biggest problems and yet it had been something to help him. he heard a voice that was quiet agro and took his attention back to the world around him. two people had obviously walked into each other and neither of them seemed to happy about it. he watched the younger one walk away before his eyes went to the other bumper and shook his head as the person walked away muttering. what was with people? it must have been an accident, it hadn't ended in more than a few annoyed words so why walk away angry? it didn't make sense. well not to him and not at that moment. running his hand through his hair eli kept walking and soon spotted the young guy that he had seen earlier and he stopped for a second and watched him work the soccer ball. he hadn't played soccer since school he though to himself, actually he hadn't really done a lot of sport since he'd left school. the time hadn't been there for him to use ad he'd been busy with other things that had needed his attention so sport had been put on a back burner, but maybe he should start again. he glanced at his watch and figured he could be home a little later tonight, depending on how the next few moments went and he walked over to the ground and leaned his shoulder casually against one of the posts that boarded the ground. "you handle a ball pretty well, play often?"

CARSON ISSAC ORWELL

clinging to the remnants of perfection like most do after they break it-----------

the entire world annoyed him when he was sober. he hated everything, every smile that was tossed in his direction, every glance that he received—he hated people that were happy. he could be happy, carson could totally turn his life around. he had been told enough times on the how but it was the why. what was the point? he was content. he was not happy with life but he was content with it. things were not bad for him. he had a steady job, solid party friends, occasional company in his bed in the two bedroom shithole apartment that he shared. really, his life was not that bad when listed like that—it was the lifestyle. it was the way that he drank until the bottle was empty and people blurred together. he had yet to kick that habit but the drugs, that was history, kind of. he did have the job of running them but he got a solid pay for it. it was really a vicious cycle. so after his boring shift, carson had decided to just wander about with the ball in his hand. sometimes, just holding his old future was enough but when his shoulder was hit and the ball tumbled from his hands, carson thought maybe a kick wouldn’t hurt. the person had their own choice words to throw back but really, carson let them roll off his shoulder. he was angry but he was not stupid, he was not going to pick a fight over something that stupid. nah, he would just kick the ball and pretend it was the guy’s face. that was a solid plan in his mind. he launched the ball a couple of feet away from him, letting it roll onto the spot that he would kick it around, knock it into the air, over his head, see if he could still perform some of his old moves. jogging over to it like it was a waiting love, he began to do exactly what he had planned.

but those plans were cut off again as he felt eyes on him. carson let the ball drop to the ground after a couple of knee bumps, putting his foot ontop of the ball to protect it. his eyes narrowed to the sudden voice, whipping his head around to see a male leaning against a goal post. he licked at his bottom lip, his eyes dropping to the ball. he still had to catch his breath before answering but the glare and the all around attitude that carson was giving off was enough to drop the hint to the male. but while carson continued to heave in massive amounts of oxygen that made his head spin momentarily, his foot pressed harder on the ball so that it would be difficult to just kick out from under him. it was something that he had learned in high school. ”does it look like i do…”, he grumbled before bringing the ball into his arms, using only his feet to bring it into the air and catching it. he placed it under his arm, stepping closer to the person, ”who wants to know?”, he asked with an accusatory tone laced into his words. his body language was already giving off that he was annoyed but carson had no idea who this guy was and had to admit that he was just a least bit curious. dropping the ball after he was close enough, he put his foot back under it and lifted the hem of his shirt, bringing it to his sweaty forehead to wipe away the moisture. sweat in eyes was quite painful after all, ”you play?”, he asked, looking down to the ball and contemplated kicking it over to the guy but instead, he kept it protectively under his foot.

open, open space in park, outfit, 641, bad reply and please excuse him, he doesn't like people.