Post by Deleted on Jun 15, 2014 0:09:54 GMT -5
The thing most people didn’t understand about Vance Salvatore was that he didn’t like people. In his opinion, there was really little to no point to them being around unless they did something for him, something that was only fueled by his manipulative nature. The only people he really even associated with were the people he partied with, and even then he couldn’t really tolerate them for too long. At least not when he was sober. When he was under the influence, however, that was a different story. It was then that he became the life of the party, the kind of person that everybody knew and everybody loved to be around. When he was drunk or high, he became fun, a drastic difference from the angry, frustrated, dark man that he was when he was sober, which was really half of the reason that he did what he did. The drugs and the alcohol let him escape from his life, escape from the darkness and replace it with something happy, something enjoyable. Something that made him feel weightless, like there wasn’t a care in the world, even though he knew that his money had long since started to run out.
A few days ago, Vance had received a letter from his sister, asking to meet up at the Three Broomsticks, just like they had when they were still in school. However, now he had graduated, and with each passing day they talked less and less, something that hadn’t changed when his baby sister had graduated. He felt like a horrible brother; he didn’t know where Nellie or living, what she was doing with her life, or anything that had been happening with her. To this day, every time he thought about his sister, images of that night cropped up into his head. They weren’t good images, they were horrendous, filled with blood and tears and his father’s rage-lined face. That, and images of his sister hooked up to machines, bruises lining her face, her eyes refusing to open. Those images had haunted him for years, and even now, he could still see them as clear as if they had just happened yesterday, could still smell the metallic tang that blood always left hanging in the air. It was horrifying, but the worst part was the way he had lost control, the way he had taken the time to nearly kill his father before getting Nellie to the hospital.
There was no doubt about it, Vance was probably the worst brother on the planet, but there were times, like today, when he could at least make up for it for a little while. He would be meeting his little sister, he would catch up on her life, and he would be the supportive, big brother that he was supposed to be. Of course, he knew he couldn’t make up for years of being an awful brother in one day, but he could certainly make some serious headway. Pushing himself up out of bed, he started to get ready, pulling on a pair of dark jeans and a T-Shirt that was, miraculously, clean. After he finished getting ready, even caring enough to give his hair a quick run-through with a comb, he lit a cigarette and took a long drag to calm his nerves. Why was he so nervous? It was just Nellie, it was just his sister, and as much as he had fucked up in life, she would always be there for him. She was the only one who would be. Shoving one of his hands in his pocket, he turned and walked out of the door.
The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a lot longer than he had first thought, and he was glad that he had left his flat a little earlier than he normally would have. The last thing he wanted was to be late, though he knew that Nellie wouldn’t be too mad at him if he was. Finally, he arrived at the pub that was so familiar to him, and made his way inside, looking for a familiar head of dark hair almost the exact shade of his own. However, he didn’t see it, and decided to go ahead and get something to drink while waiting for her, though that presented a problem in of itself. He could get alcohol here, he had before, but this time… this time was different. Not only was it way before any time that was considered acceptable to start drinking, he was meeting Nellie here, and he wanted to set some kind of example for her, even if she had already started following in his footsteps. He ordered two butterbeers, one for him and one for his sister, deciding that keeping it simple was the best option, and leaning heavily against the back of the chair, he felt every bit of the pounding headache that refused to leave while he waited for his sister.
