Chapter Text
“Oi! Barkeep! You in there?"
Startled by the noise, you jolted awake. As you rubbed the sleepy haze from your eyes, the front door of the bar slowly came into focus, along with the digital clock above it. 4:10PM. Shit. How long had you dozed off?
“Seriously girl, let me in! It’s frickin’ freezing out here!”
You rose from the metal stool you had been resting on and made your way towards the tiny foyer. Still drowsy, you fumbled with the old brass deadlock before managing to slide it open. As you swung the door open, you were greeted by a bearded grin and wet work boots.
“Dang Josie Jr., you’re not used to these late nights are you?”
“Shut it, Jackson. And I told you not to call me that.”
Jackson gave you a smirk. “Pardon me, ma’am.”
Rolling your eyes, you shuffled your way back to your regular position behind the bar. You’d be worried that Josie would be disappointed for opening 10 minutes late, but none of the regulars were waiting, and Jackson wasn’t the type to complain. Especially since Tuesdays were usually the slowest afternoons of the week.
Josie had been running this bar since you were a kid, and every Tuesday was the same. For most of your school years, you could be found doing homework in the back, stealing peanuts from the bar and stashing leftovers in the walk-in while your mom finished up her shift at the hospital in Uptown. Your apartment up on the fourth floor always felt too quiet, and as long as you stayed out the way, Josie didn’t mind you hanging around. The sound of beer bottles clinking, electronic dings from the dart boards, and clacking of billiard balls was better for your concentration than any white noise machine anyway. Mom had moved to Florida about ten years ago, but you stayed behind in the apartment while in college. You still studied in the back corner of Josie’s, the only change being that you added rum to your sodas. After graduation, she offered you a job to help stay afloat while you job-hunted. She was practically family and was much happier to bring on someone she already knew and trusted. You’d always had it as a fallback plan between jobs at music shops, private lessons, and your never-ending auditions for a consistent spot in an orchestra. Years had gone by since your first night there, and though your frustration grew more and more each day without a performance gig, you appreciated the steady income nonetheless.
“How long did Josie say she’d be out?” Jackson’s voice floated out from the back room, thuds following as he grabbed cases of beer and rearranged kegs.
“Couple of weeks, most likely. I told her to take whatever time she needed, it’s not like she’s had a vacation in the last however many years. I was starting to think she was literally chained to this place.” You really wouldn’t have been surprised if you found an actual shackle underneath the counter, with how much Josie worked.
He chuckled as he headed your way to check the canned beer fridge under the counter. An impressed smile crossed his face once he realized that not only was that full, but so was everything on the rail and the shelves.
“You’re making my job too easy, friend. Paula and I left everything a mess last night. What time did you even come in today to get this all taken care of?” Jackson asked.
“Around one or so. Eastern was here for a liquor delivery, so I popped down after my lessons.” Grabbing a rag from the ‘clean’ bucket under the sink, you squeezed behind him to start wiping up the rain he tracked in.
“For real though, if you needed help getting things set up, you could’ve called. I’m less than half a mile from here.”
You didn’t look up from the water on the floor you were trying to sop up.
“Does it look like I needed any help?”
Jackson faltered, voice falling. “I mean, no, I just…”
Now you glanced up at his six-foot-something frame. He seemed so much taller at this angle, yet he was almost shrinking back. It would have been almost amusing, him being afraid of you, but guilt immediately crept up in your chest instead.
“I’m sorry, Jackson. I’m just stressed out,” you admitted, “and I do appreciate the offer. Rough auditions this week, and I’m not used to working every night at the bar. Josie might never take another vacation if she finds out I asked you to help open, though.”
“Hah! Ain’t that the truth. Well, lemme know if anyone gives you trouble tonight, and I’m there,” clapping you on the back before he took his seat at the stool by the bar’s entrance.
You pulled yourself up off the floor, stretching and rolling your shoulders before tossing the wet rags into the ‘dirty’ bin. The bell on the front door jingled as the tension in your back released a little, settling into the normal weeknight routine as patrons filtered in for their usual drinks and games of pool.
Before you could even register time moving, nine-thirty rolled around and the bar was bustling. A couple of bikers by the pool tables loudly challenged their buddies to another round while a few others took turns at the dart boards, chatter and conversation filling the air. You were in your normal flow of handing out drinks, refilling the ice bin, and hollering at Jackson to grab yet another case of beer from the back when you heard a cheerful voice say,
“Well, it’s certainly nice to see you back instead of our usual wicked witch of a bartender!”
You turned around to be greeted by two men around your age, leaning on the bar. They stuck out in your memories of the usual Tuesday regulars, mainly because they were both in suits, a stark contrast to the usual biker vests and dirty canvas construction jackets usually seen. The blond one grinned at you, while his dark-haired friend had turned his head off to his left, eyes hidden behind maroon-colored lenses.
You gave the stocky blond a bit of a glare, crossing your arms across your chest.
“Ah, Foggy Nelson.”
“The one and only!”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten your incident with the popcorn machine last fall.”
He threw his arms out in exasperation and sighed, “Aw come on! It was a one-time occurrence, and I promise I made it up to Josie.”
“I don’t think calling her a wicked witch is a great way of making it up to her. Besides, I was the one sweeping up popcorn for hours, not her.”
“Alright fine, I guess I owe you for that. Why don’t you throw a drink for you on the firm’s tab with ours, I’ll take-“
You were already pouring a tall draft and a whiskey before he finished the sentence.
“Whatever beer is on special. Whiskey on the rocks for Matt,” nodding in his friend’s direction. “And no, Foggy Nelson, this is not going on your firm’s supposed tab. It’ll be $6 each.”
“What if I wanted something different?” frowned Foggy, picking up the frosty mug you slid in front of him.
“It may have been three months since I worked a Tuesday, but you’re pretty predictable. You only order something different if you’re trying to impress a woman and I’m pretty sure Matt’s not one,” you replied, barely managing to keep a straight face as Matt held back a chuckle.
“That’s… creepy, but impressive. I’ll give you that one, Z.”
Their nickname, well Foggy’s really, finally made you crack a smile. He had drunkenly bestowed it on you last summer when you and Josie were both behind the bar, as apparently “Jo and Z” was the funniest thing to him at the time.
“Hah! I knew I could break that scowl!” he said before turning around to head to him and Matt’s usual booth in the corner, stopping between to strike up conversation with one of the bikers.
“Truly is a golden retriever type, isn’t he?” you said, chuckling as you exchange a glass for Matt’s card.
“The enthusiasm never ends. Been like that since I met him.” Matt replied warmly, taking a sip of his drink. “I think he’s just excited to see you’re back, you’ve always been a little easier on him than Josie.”
“Eh, to be fair, Josie’s had to put up with him for longer.”
“That’s true. Speaking of, I’m assuming you’re here on a Tuesday because she’s out? Everything okay?”
You nodded and said, “Very astute of you. She’s out in Michigan for a couple of weeks, so it’s just me and Jackson running the place tonight. Finally convinced her to take a vacation.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “Josie? Vacation? Never thought I’d hear those words together.”
“Trust me, it was no small feat.”
“Well, I’m glad she’s taking the time off. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her leave the bar. Go ahead and leave the card open, we’ll be here awhile. It’s good to see you again, Z.” Matt said, emphasizing your nickname with a small, amused smile.
“Good to see you guys too. I’ll come and check on your drinks in a bit.” He gave you a quick nod and flashed you a bigger grin, one that stopped you for just a couple seconds longer than it should. It took you just a beat, but you managed to snap out of it, tossed your towel over your shoulder, and got back to work. You really need to get some proper rest girlfriend, thinking to yourself while shaking your head. Banter is half of what a bartender’s job is. Can’t be letting some dark-haired regular throw you out of your groove.
The night continued to rush by, a few rounds of draft specials for the mechanics up front, fives in exchange for quarters for the bikers at the pool table, vodka crans for the out-of-place college girls trying and failing to flirt with Jackson up front. He was effective as a bouncer, but there was something about the long, dirty blond hair tied back in a man-bun that college girls were drawn right to. They never made it far enough to realize Jackson’s type was guitar-playing hipster guys. As you started to head to Foggy and Matt’s table a little before midnight to grab their empties and hand out another round, you were still on autopilot.
“I’m just saying, this could bring in a lot of money. You remember what that is right? That green stuff that lets us pay rent and buy food?”
You probably shouldn’t have listened in, but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Comes with the territory, you thought to yourself.
“Foggy, I get that, but we started our firm to help people who need it. Not some sketchy guy working for a construction company that we can’t find any sort of information on.”
“How do you know he’s sketchy? What, did you use your ESP or something?”
“Knock it off. You know what I-”
Distracted, you stumbled over the uneven floor and the empty bottles in your left hand clattered to the ground in front of their booth. At least you managed to keep the tray in your right hand somewhat balanced. So much for staying in a groove.
“Look, it’s the wicked witch’s assistant!” an inebriated Foggy exclaimed, grinning and throwing his hands out in your direction.
After setting their drinks down on the table behind you, you crouched down to grab the empties rolling away. “Not doing super great at that, seeing as I’m throwing empty bottles at my regulars.”
“I think Josie would approve,” Matt said with amusement in his voice.
“Speak for yourself Matt, but I don’t much appreciate having things thrown at me,” Foggy shot in mock offense, his nose in the air.
“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Nelson. I’ll make sure I only throw things at the blind man,” you fired back without thinking. Right after the words left your mouth, Foggy choked on his beer, sputtering and shaking with laughter. As you realized what you said, your cheeks immediately flushed red and you stuttered out, “God, sorry Matt, I swear it was a joke– I didn’t-”
Matt let out a sympathetic laugh as he elbowed Foggy in the ribs, saying, “You only need to be sorry if Foggy drowns in his beer.”
You winced. “God no, seriously, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about-”
“Really, it’s fine. He makes worse jokes on an hourly basis at this point,” Matt said waving his hand, giving you a reassuring look that made the heat in your face fade just a little.
“Well, either way, I feel bad. Either for the joke or for making Foggy inhale his beer. Next round’s on me, just don’t tell Josie,” you offered, smiling at them both before sliding their drinks over.
Foggy flashed a smile back about as bright as a spotlight while Matt gave a thumbs-up before you walked back to the bar.
Twelve forty-five came around as you flipped on the overhead lights.
“Last call! Wrap it up everyone!”
You started pulling out receipts and ringing out orders. The biker guys were finishing up their last round of pool, and Foggy and Matt still sat at their booth at the opposite end, half arguing, half laughing about something you couldn’t quite hear. As Jackson started refilling the beer fridge for the final time, you realized you forgot the key to the safe at Josie’s place after dropping off the monthly invoices earlier in the morning.
“Hey, Jackson, can you mind the bar for five minutes? I need to run upstairs and grab the safe key.”
“Aye aye, cap’n.”
“Don’t be a smartass, Jacks.”
As you walked past the walk-in fridge towards the back staircase, you heard him retort, “But that’s what I’m good at, boss!”
“Five minutes! Don’t burn the place down!”
You trotted up the four flights of stairs to the hallway connecting your side of the floor to Josie’s. After punching in the code to her apartment, you entered the dark living room, immediately seeing the safe key on the end table where you left it. Stuffing it in the pocket of your sweatshirt, you decided to pop over to your place to grab your headphones, knowing it would be a welcome distraction as you needed to deep clean the back bar later on. Just as you crossed into your bedroom to grab them off the desk, a strange sound from the bathroom reached your ears. As you padded closer to the door, you felt your stomach drop as you recognized what it was.
Water fell in a steady stream down from a hole in the ceiling right above the showerhead, and out into the room. Your eyes darted over to the built-in armoire that held all your clothes to see that it was soaked, too. There was a single step down between the bedroom and bathroom, and as you looked down, you saw water covering every inch of the floor.
“Fuck!”
Racing back through the bedroom, through the living room, and into the kitchen, you reached the main water shutoff for the fourth floor in the utility closet. After grabbing and cranking it shut, you ran back to the bathroom to make sure that the water stopped, and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it did. You fumbled for your phone, managing to dial the bar’s number with shaky hands. Pick up, pick up, pick up.
“Hey girl, what’s the hold up?”
Phew. “Oh thank god.”
Jackson picked up the concern in your voice near immediately. “What’s the matter?”
“Water line in my shower bust open. Not sure how. Gonna be cleaning this up for hours. Can you finish closing the bar down?”
“Shit. Uh, I can, but I need your register card first. Your lawyer friends are here trying to close out, looks like you comped some of their drinks. Need your card for that. Did you leave it by the bar?”
You frantically patted down the pockets in your jeans, felt the plastic card in your back pocket, and sighed. “No, I have it. I guess the water’s not going anywhere for right now. I’ll be down in a sec.”
You looked around at your bathroom and took in the damage. With this amount of water, you’d be cleaning it up until the morning. It’d be a small miracle if the whole room wouldn’t need to be gutted. A sinking feeling started to fill your stomach, but before you could let it settle too far, you shook it off, heading out the door and locking it before jogging back downstairs.
Once behind the bar again, you let out a sigh, realizing it had been only ten minutes, though it felt like much longer than that. All of the bikers were tugging on their jackets, and a very drunk Foggy was teasing Jackson about something.
“Sorry about the wait, guys. Apartment trouble.”
“It’s about time, Glinda!” Foggy slurred.
That got a chuckle out of you. “Foggy, I’m pretty sure Glinda was the Wicked Witch’s sister, not her assistant.” You swiped your card at the register and got their final bills printed out. As you handed them the checks and a couple of pens, you hurriedly said “I have to head back upstairs, but I’m sure I’ll see you two next week.”
“Is everything alright?” Matt inquired with furrowed brows while handing back his signed receipt and pen.
You ran your hands over your face, groaning. “Water line burst in my bathroom. Entire room is flooded. Gonna be in there with a shop-vac all night getting the water out.”
He paused. “Well, if you want some help...” Matt trailed off, though the look of concern on his face held fast.
You stopped for a second, considering. Nice of him to offer, I guess even a blind second set of hands is better than one. You scowled at yourself for that thought. Don’t be rude, you jerk. Not really in the habit of inviting men I hardly know into my apartment, but Josie has said they’re good guys, so…
“You know what, yeah, I could use it,” you admitted to Matt with a sigh. “You sure the one-and-only Foggy Nelson is going to be much assistance, though?” you asked, thumbing over at his drunken counterpart, using Jackson as support as he tried to put on his coat.
Matt tilted his head towards Foggy, pausing before he replied. “Hah, yeah, he definitely drank more than his fair share tonight. I’ll call him a cab and get him on his way home, and then I can help out.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
“Just helping a friend. Don’t worry about it.” He gave you that wide smile again, and you briefly forget about the mess waiting upstairs. “Do you want me to wait here in the bar until you’re finished up?”
You nodded, and then felt heat rise to your cheeks, slightly embarrassed once you realized that wasn’t something he could notice. “Um, yes– well, Jackson’s gonna take care of closing the bar, so he can show you upstairs and through my place once you get Foggy situated. I want to get a jump on it. Just uh, knock or something when you get to my bathroom so I don’t jump out of my skin when I see you standing there.”
Matt nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll be up soon,” he said before turning to assist a stumbling Foggy. You turned to make your way to the back stairs to start cleaning up the small pond waiting for you. Just as you passed Jackson, he grabbed your arm and in a hushed voice singsonged “Matt and Josie Jr., sittin’ in tree…”
You punched him in the stomach with your free hand before he got much farther. “Seriously, man?”
He let go and rubbed where you hit him, chuckling. “I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you invite a guy upstairs to your place.”
“Ah yes, because mopping up gallons and gallons of water in a cold bathroom just screams ‘romantic.’ Don’t know why I didn’t think of this pick-up before.”
“Every time he smiles at you, you stop for a second. I’ve never seen someone snap you out of your rhythm like that.”
You hated it, but he was right. Too observant for his own good sometimes. Crossing your arms, you glared at him and replied “Can you just let him in when he’s done and bring him upstairs? I’ve got a mini Hudson in my apartment and I’d really like to get started on cleaning it up.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ll escort him,” Jackson said while rolling his eyes at you.
“Thank you,” you replied, then softened as you continued, “And thank you for helping to close things down tonight. You can go once you get Matt upstairs, I’m sure Carter’s waiting for you. We’ll worry about deep cleaning the back bar later this week.”
“Anytime. You know I’ve got your back.”
You gave him a tired but thankful smile and headed upstairs.
Even after cuffing your jeans to almost the knee, your legs were still soaked by the time Matt got up to your apartment. You’d managed to get the wet clothes out of the built in, wrung out, and tossed in a bag to take to the laundromat. You were just dumping the latest pass with the shop-vac down the drain of the tub when you heard a clicking in your bedroom. Wiping the sweaty strands of hair that had fallen from your braid out of your eyes, you looked up to see Matt knocking one hand against the frame of the door, cane resting in the other.
“Hey again. Jackson let me in. I told him I could find my way back to you,” Matt said before setting his coat and cane down to join you in the bathroom.
You felt a pang of embarrassment in your chest. “Oh, I told him to walk you back here. Didn’t want you to have to find your way around this maze of doors alone.”
He smiled gently at you. “It’s not a big deal, it’s pretty easy to hear where you are, what with the vacuum running and all.”
Another pang, then you started to stutter. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like- I mean, I meant-”
“Hey, it’s okay, really. Don’t worry about me, I get around fine,” Matt said through a quiet laugh. “Happens all the time.”
“What, the walking on eggshells-like attitude, or making women stutter in your presence?” Oh my god, shut up.
“Well, the first one more than the second, usually.” Matt grinned, shrugging his shoulders. As he started rolling up his sleeves he continued, “but enough about my problems, what do you need help with?”
Your eyes had drifted towards the now-bare skin of his forearms. He looked stronger than you expected for a lawyer, muscles flexing as the long fingers of his hand deftly cuffed his shirt at the elbow. You involuntarily licked your lips, admiring how the tendons in his broad hands rolled as he loosened the button on his other sleeve. Shaking it off, you tapped the corner of the bathroom and showed Matt where to start vacuuming up water.
“We can just dump the water in the tub, it’s a little over two feet to your left. Luckily none of the drains have an issue, it’s just the water line. I’m gonna go move this bag of clothes out of the way, I need to take them to the laundromat in the morning.”
“You’re welcome to use my washer & dryer, if you want. Probably about the same distance, but I won’t charge you a week’s worth of pay.”
Josie was right, these were good guys. “I may have to take you up on that. Don’t get too much in cash tips, mainly cards now. Even with the older biker guys, you’d be surprised at how many of them have points cards.”
You could hear Matt laugh as you dragged your laundry bag to the front door. Cleaning this unexpected mess up was certainly a little easier with good company. You made quick work of the remaining water as you swept the water towards Matt while he held the vacuum, and once the pond was reduced to small puddles, you tasked Matt with wiping out the built-in so the water didn’t seep into the wood more than it already had. You were moving out to the hallway to grab the mop out of the utility closet when you heard Matt speak.
“So, how do you know Josie? Other than working at the bar? I can’t imagine her hiring someone she didn’t already know.”
You couldn’t imagine it either. “I’ve known her for most of my life. My mom and I moved into this apartment when I was ten. Josie actually owns the first five floors of this building.”
Matt paused in disbelief for a moment and said, “No way, Josie, a landlord?”
“Seriously. Apparently her family’s owned the building, including the bar, for over a century. The bar was actually a speakeasy back in the 20s.”
A chuckle. “Just when you think you know your barkeep…”
“Don’t tell her I said anything, we don’t want to ruin her mystique, after all.”
“Not a word I ever would have used to describe Josie, but yes, secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks. Anyway, yeah, she’s been my landlord for 20-something years now. My mom moved to Florida years ago, but I was still in college so I stuck around. Josie covered the rent until I graduated and got a ‘real’ job,” you continued.
“What did you go to school for?”
You scoffed a little, and replied, “Music performance. Piano, specifically.” Not wanting to elaborate on your distinct lack of a full-time gig, you turned the question around. “Obviously you have a degree, considering your lawyer-ing. Where’d you go?”
“Columbia. Foggy and I both. We decided to start our own firm after working for corporations at our internship. Got sick of defending faceless businesses,” Matt frowned a little.
“Oh so you’re standing up for the little guy? We need more of that.”
“I’d like to think so. Eating rice for every meal is getting a little old, though. Law isn’t all glitz.”
You chuckled as you replied, “I feel that. The supply shop I worked for closed three months ago. Until I managed to start doing private lessons, I was pretty much eating bar peanuts and $2 frozen pizzas. Now I’ve upgraded to cheap Chinese.”
“That’s glamorous,” Matt laughed.
“Very,” you confirmed as you turned back to the task at hand. “So, now that we’ve got the water mostly cleaned up, I think I’m going to cut into this drywall. Gotta see what the damage is. If you need to take off I understand,” glancing at your phone, “I imagine law starts early and it’s past two AM.”
“I don’t mind staying and helping. I don’t sleep much anyway,” he quietly admitted as he leaned against the wall behind you.
You pulled your utility knife from your back pocket and started cutting into the drywall two feet off the floor. Once you got to the wall shared with the bedroom, your stomach sank.
“Shit,” you muttered. “Not what I wanted to find.”
“Seeped through to the other walls?”
“Yeah. Which means the restoration process is going to be more intense than I was hoping.”
Behind you, Matt paused, and then you heard him sniff. “Might be worse than that.” He walked up, close enough you could feel the heat of his body against your back. He gently set his hands on your shoulders, thumbs grazing the back of your neck, making you shiver just the slightest amount at the unexpected, but not unwelcome touch. He leaned over you and sniffed again. “Smells like mildew… maybe mold.”
He must have sensed the pause before you started to speak and answered your question before it could leave your mouth. “When you can’t see, you tend to be able to hear and smell things before others. Lack of one sense heightens the others.”
“Gotcha. Well, if it’s mold, I might be able to see it, now that the wall is open.” Grabbing your phone, you turned on the flashlight and directed it at the wall you cut open. After your eyes adjusted to the light, you could see some kind of discoloration on the inside of your bedroom wall. As you squatted down and leaned in closer to inspect it, you were suddenly hit with the musty odor that confirmed it. Definitely mold or mildew. You looked over your shoulder to see Matt’s figure back in the doorway.
“Yeah, there’s definitely something in there. Gonna have to have the entire floor looked at, probably. So much for my plan of sleeping on Josie’s couch.”
“I take it this isn’t your first water leak.”
“I’ve seen enough to know how this goes. The water damage was going to put me out of a bathroom for at least a month, but mold...” You pulled your braid loose and ran your hands through your hair, unease settling in your chest like a boulder.
Matt cleared his throat. “Do you need a place to stay?”
Your brain short-circuited. “Wh-What?”
He paused before he repeated the question, though out of apprehension or concern, you weren’t sure. “Do you need a place to stay? I’ve got a spare room. If that is actually mold, you probably shouldn’t be around it any more than you have to be.” You were pretty sure he could tell you were staring at him, mouth agape, as he continued, voice quieting as he softly said, “Josie acts like a real hardass, but she’s always been kind to me. I’ve known her for a long time, too. Helping you out would be helping her so…” He rubbed the back of his neck, unease in his voice as he trailed off.
You were still staring. You swore he could hear your heart, it was beating so loud, banging against your ribcage as you tried to process what exactly he had offered. Finally managing to break your mental block and work through the situation, you stuttered out, “I uh-, I-I could use a place for tonight. I think I’ll probably end up with a hotel or rental through my insurance, but I won’t know until tomorrow.”
He relaxed a bit, shoulders dropping. “Well, pack up what you need.” He took a few steps, closing the distance between you before reaching a hand down to help you up. Taking it, you stood and replied, “Thanks. Shouldn’t take me too long to throw together a bag.”
“Can’t resist helping a damsel in distress,” Matt replied with a playful grin. “I have a moral code to uphold.”
You rolled your eyes but replied gratefully, “You’re gonna end up drinking for free with how much you’re helping me out, Mr. Murdock.”
He just smirked and repeated your remark from the bar earlier. “Don’t tell Josie.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. If you wanna wait out in the living room, I shouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.”
Matt nodded before turning and leaving you alone in the bathroom. After taking a few deep breaths, you quickly ran through a mental checklist of what you needed to grab. Shower stuff, meds, charger, backpack... As you started opening the drawers in your vanity, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink. The circles under your eyes, ones that had seemingly been getting darker over the last few weeks, were accompanied by mascara smudged from sweat, your irises rimmed with red from tiredness. You hastily pulled your hair up into a bun and tried to wipe the marks under your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. A few strands of hair made their way loose, and if you weren’t so exhausted, you knew you’d be feeling self conscious about what a mess you were.
You made your way into the living room once you had everything packed up to see Matt waiting calmly by the front door. He lifted his head as he heard you enter the room.
“Have everything you need?”
“I think so. You really okay with me using your washer? I’ve got probably half my closet stuffed into this laundry bag. May double your water bill for the month.”
Chuckling, Matt replied, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to pay me back.”
“You’re quickly approaching ‘free whiskey for life’ status here.”
“Maybe that was my plan all along.”
“Can’t believe I fell for the good Samaritan act!” you laughed as you laced up your boots. You moved past him, reaching for the front door. “Go ahead in front of me so I can lock up.”
He stepped out into the hallway as you slipped into your jacket and tossed your backpack over your shoulder, quickly following him out the door.
“We’ll take the stairs over to the right, it’ll let us out the back of the building,” you said as you gathered up your laundry bag. A hand brushed against your elbow, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the gentle grip of his fingers.
“Sorry,” Matt said softly. “Do you mind guiding? It’s a little easier than using the cane inside.”
“Oh, yeah- sorry, it’s not you, I just get kinda jumpy when I’m tired,” you said as you let Matt move his hand into the crook of your arm. Truthfully, you were thankful for the warm weight of his fingers as they landed on your bicep, as it helped balance out the load of laundry you carried in your other hand. As you exited the building into chilled, damp February air, you found yourself drawing closer to Matt’s side, involuntarily seeking the warmth that seemed to radiate from him. A cold breeze blew across you, carrying the faint scent of leather and wood from him to you. You turned the corner, following his directions as you made your way to his apartment, and an impulsive question tumbled from you.
“Have you always been blind?”
You felt Matt stiffen next to you, tension running up his broad frame.
“I guess you get asked that a lot. Stupid unfiltered thought, sorry.”
“It’s a pretty common question, yeah. Not stupid though. And your answer is no, I haven’t. Happened when I was a kid,” Matt responded, though you could still feel what felt like discomfort at your questions.
You walked a few steps without speaking, unsure of how to continue the conversation. You finally managed to answer with, “I can’t imagine how hard it would be to adapt to that.”
“I still struggle with it sometimes,” he admitted softly, “but there’s beauty in how I see the world now.”
“That seems like a very healthy way to look at it. No pun intended.”
You got a quiet chuckle from that. “Took me awhile to get there. Might be resilience, or maybe I’m just stubborn.”
“We’ll call it resilience. Sounds better,” you smiled, nudging him.
“Fair enough. My turn for an invasive question,” he countered, nudging you back. “What’s a classically trained musician doing at a dive bar?”
You groaned in response. “Guess you deserve a question since you answered mine. Currently ah, between gigs. And by between gigs I mean I haven’t gotten a call back from an audition in over four months.”
“Wow. Competitive field?”
“It is, but I’m not sure if I’ve hit a bad string of luck or if I’m just terrible at this point.”
“I haven’t heard you play, but I highly doubt it’s the last one.”
“Ever a gentleman. I’ve got a couple more lined up in the next few weeks, and at least I’ve been able to use my degree in the meantime. Got a handful of kids I teach during the day.”
“Sounds like you might be as resilient as me,” Matt replied pointedly with a smirk on his face.
“Touché.”
The two of you walked in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the way. Once you reached his building, he unlocked the front door and held it open for you, and you entered a generic-looking lobby with beige tile floors and off-white paneled walls. Gesturing to the stairs on the left, he explained, “I’m on the sixth floor, but we can take the service elevator.”
Just looking at the metal stairs had your legs feeling weak, the weight of your laundry bag seemingly growing heavier. “Thanks,” you replied tiredly, “not sure I’d be able to haul all this up tonight.”
You followed Matt past the stairs down a short hallway that led to the service elevator. He entered first, hitting the ‘6’ button while you followed behind. Once inside, you leaned against the cool metal of the walls, eyes closing as your exhaustion began to settle in. You didn’t notice the elevator car opening on the sixth floor, though you did feel Matt’s hand gently press on your lower back.
“C’mon, let’s get you inside so you can get some actual rest,” he said. You stepped out of the elevator into a brightly lit landing, letting Matt move in front of you to unlock his front door.
It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dark entryway. Compared to your apartment, which you’d always described as “cozy,” Matt’s seemed almost cavernous. It appeared to be an old warehouse that was turned into a living space, with exposed brick all the way up to the top of the easily 20 foot ceiling. Across from the entry where you were standing, there were twelve-foot tall windows that filtered the light from the street lamps outside, giving the room an eerie yellow glow. On the left, a large, frosted glass door separated what you assumed was a bedroom area from the living room. Your eyes swept over the oversized leather sofa & chairs to the right side of the space that held a simple galley-style kitchen. Dark, espresso-stained cabinetry spanned most of the length of the back wall, flanked on one side by a stainless steel fridge, and a pocket door on the other.
You managed to pull your dropped jaw shut after muttering, “Jesus. This is your idea of law not being glitzy?”
Matt didn’t move from the entry where he was hanging his coat. “Wait for it.”
A flash of light lit the apartment up, startling you. You walked over towards the bank of windows, searching for the source. Peering through the fogged panes, you could make out a billboard with what looked like spotlights dancing behind it.
You let out a low whistle. “Good lord.”
“Been there for years. It’s a little distracting, apparently. Got a good deal on the place though.”
“Why on earth is that across from an apartment? That’s gotta be against… some sort of building code.”
“This floor is all apartments now, but it was warehouse space up until five or six years ago. This is the only one that faces it, so it isn’t really an issue for anyone else. They don’t get the cheap rent, though.” Matt shrugged before walking over and to the kitchen island where he dropped his keys. He waited, tracking your footsteps as you slowly walked through the living room, taking in the space before you made your way to lean against the island.
“Bathroom and laundry are behind you to the left,” he said once you had settled at the island in front of him. He motioned behind him, “Spare room is through that pocket door. There’s a murphy bed in there, just pull down on the handle on the wall and it’ll come down. Should already be made, except for the pillows. Those are in the dresser. I’ll go put your laundry in the bathroom.”
You walked past him, inspecting your new room for the night. The ceiling was a lot lower here, and it couldn’t have been more than seven feet deep total. The wall across from the doorway you stood in housed the murphy bed Matt had mentioned, flanked on either side by tall shelves filled with books. A red metal dresser sat in the corner of the small room.
“All good?” Matt asked from the kitchen.
“Yeah. I hate to ask, but you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of sweatpants or something I could borrow would you?” you asked, picking at the damp denim against your thighs. “I think all of mine ended up getting wet.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
As Matt left the room, you reached up for the metal handle of the bed, pulling it down smoothly away from the wall. You were fluffing the pillows from the dresser as he returned, sweatpants in hand.
“Here you go. Brought a shirt too, just in case. You get the bed set up alright?”
“I did. Gotta say, it looks way more comfortable than Josie’s couch.”
“Good. I’ll let you get some sleep then. I have to be at the office in the morning, but you can stay as long as you need to. I’ll leave a spare key on the counter.”
“Okay. Thanks for the sweatpants. And the bed. And the help. And everything else.”
Matt gave you a soft smile. “You can thank me by getting some rest, you need it.”
No way you were arguing with that. “Good night, Matt.”
“Good night,” he replied, sliding the door shut.
You peeled off your damp jeans and slipped into the borrowed sweats before crawling into bed. Exhaustion quickly washed over you as you pulled the sheets up and around your shoulders, inhaling the faint scent of detergent, cotton, and oak before sighing and shutting your eyes. Sleep claimed you almost immediately, your worn-out body finally at rest.
Somewhere above you, a door creaked open.