The Aftermath

Will woke up that day the way he always did: Hound. His German Shepherd had bounded onto his bed and began to lick his face furiously, and would never stop until Will pushed him off. When he finally managed to do so, he sat up, groaning. He looked to the side of his bed, an half empty beer bottle just sitting there and he reached over, grabbed it, and downed all of it. That had become the new, routine way to start out the day.

He got out of bed, stumbling into the wall for a second and then pushed himself upright again, groaning.He looked down, biting his lip and then shook his head, realizing he was still wearing his leather jacket and jeans. He reached inside his jacket, feeling the cold metal container of alcohol and shook it, to come to the conclusion it was still full. He opened it, took a large gulp and then closed it, putting it back. He would need to save the rest.

Will didn't even realize it was the early evening until he took a step outside. That's when he remembered what happened the night before. He had been staying up all night, drinking and watching the 35th games again, wondering what would've happened if he had gone in. Without realizing it, he must've stayed up into the morning. He sighed and started going down the stairs that led to the street, stumbling on the last step. He managed to regain his footing and groaned, putting his hands in his pockets and walked towards the upper part of District 12.

By the time he had gotten to the shopping district, he had realized that he had forgot about Hound but shrugged it off. He would remember next time. He came across a nice, conveniently placed bench and sat down. He took out his flask of alcohol and took another swig, watching everyone else go about their day, flask in hand.

Will turned, seeing someone sit down out of the corner of his eye. He looked away when she asked him why he looked gloomy, taking another swig of the contents of his flask. "Just...too much thinking I suppose." He sighed, putting the cap back on the metal container, storing it once more as he looked over at the girl once more. "Now, what's a pretty face like you doing talking to me?" Will didn't mean to sound rude, but it came off a bit like that. But at that point, his judgement was too far off for him to tell.

Will looked to her when she asked if he minded sharing. He took the flask out and looked at it, and shrugged, holding it out but took it away quickly as he says, "It tastes like shit. Just warning you now." Once he was done giving her the cautious message, he held it out again, smiling. He wasn't exactly aware that he smile, but if he knew he was he probably wouldn't have cared.

He laughed along with her and responded to her first question with, "Well it isn't mine. I wouldn't buy something that tastes that bad. No, I stole it from my dad's cellar. I have to get the bad drinks because he won't miss those. If I took the good ones, he'd catch on. And I can't have that." He grabbed it from her when she gave it back to him and he took another sip of it before putting it away. "I don't believe I got your name. Mine's William. William Taves. Although, most just call me Will. What's your name? Can't just call you 'sweetheart' now can I?"

Will grinned when she said she wouldn't look at him again and bumped his shoulder. "I highly doubt that..." He chuckled and crossed his arms, leaning back to relax a bit more. He listened as she told him her name and he looked over saying, "Jen, huh? And how many people exactly are allowed to call you Jen?"

Will took the piece of paper from her hand and put it in his pocket. As she was walking away, he stood up and called out, "Yeah, I will..." He was smiling as he sat back down and looked up at the sky. Part of him wondered what the hell just happened. But the other part of him knew. And that part of him was absolutely okay with it.