Cup o Coffee

By: Eoin O’Rourke

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 17th Sep 2021

-Today I woke up with a massive bloody headache. My head was throbbing, the light from outside hurt my head, and Iím almost out of boozeÖ Again. When I got up, I found Eric laying on my couch, with his pants at his ankles and still snoring as if he was completely detached from reality.-


“Eric, get up.”


-I tried shouting at him, but that wasnít working, so I kicked the couch and he still refused to move. He didnít even react to my attempts, just laid there, not even knowing that he still had his pants on, like who the fuck sleeps with their pants on? Let alone, jeans down to your ankles on? I went back to my kitchen and sat on a chair, grabbing a flask, shaking it, looking in. There was enough whiskey to last me a day, hopefully itíll be enough. I tried to remember what happened the night before. It was painful to think because I was most definitely suffering a hangover. I sat and thought for a moment about last nightÖ-


“COME ON! Gahhh! Get me another one Eric, boy-o!”


“AlrightÖ Ah, here you go cuz.”


“Thank ye. Come on you wankers, get the fucking ball!”


“Yea yea! Its the bottom of the 9th! I got a drug run I gotta do and I need this win!”


-I put my head down on the table and held my head-


“Aw fucking hell, the bloody baseball game last nightÖ That would explain my over-drinkingÖ A drug run? When didÖ Fucking hell Eric is doing drug runs for people in Fight and outside of it. No one in this bloody tower can keep their noses aní mouths clean…. God.”


-I looked around at the kitchen table, and saw the letter that was left on my floor when I came back with the liquor. I reached over and grabbed it, and read it again. “Hey kiddo, Iím in town again. Meet me next week at the Starbucks, we have some things to talk about. Love C.” I looked up at the clock, it was 4:30, right now and the sun was starting to set. I looked at my surroundings, and thought that it would be better if I did go. It was already bad enough that I had to sit in this place with a pantsed brother. Went to the bathroom, used some mouthwash to get the booze smell out of my mouth and went to the door.-


“Eric, Iím heading out.”






-I closed the door behind me, and took the elevator down to the lobby. I still didnít know who it couldíve been who sent the letter. Sure it couldíve been my Godfather, but what if it was someone else? I donít know. But I wouldnít know unless I looked. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained” they say, and I love me a little adventure here and there. This whole Fight trip has been a wild adventure. From its start, Iíve been witness to so much pain, so much destruction. The FBI sees me as an informant to the girl I love and they want me to bring her and the Cure to jail. Even trying to put me in familiar shoes with someone that was once my friend, and a new prosperous lifeÖ I still wouldnít take it. Not then, and not now. Stepped off the elevator and exited the lobby. I went north, that’s where I met Craig, and itís probably where Iíll meet him again. Even with the sun going down, and the autumn season approaching it was still humid as hell, the sun was relentless, and the hangover was hammering my head like a nonstop drum beat. I could really use a coffee. I arrived at the Starbucks but it was packed inside, people just getting off their day shifts, coming to a coffee shop to talk and be a bunch of geeks. Hipsters abound, and a man who looks like a lawyer.-


“Hai! What can I-“


“Irish coffee please. Nothing else with it, thank you lass.”


-I had no time for this baristaís bullshit. I didnít want to hear anything about not knowing my name or hearing her voice that is so bad Iíd rather hear nails on a chalkboard. She got my drink in quick fashion which was nice, and I sat by a window looking out towards the park. The coffee was strong but not strong enough to get rid of the headache. I audibly groaned and put my head on my arm-


“Here, take some of these.”


-Craig sat next to me in a yellow suit coat, and flat cap. He had a cup of coffee with him too.-


“Iíll tell you what, your ma was had a liver made out of iron, you’re a lightweight compared to her kid.”


“Oh, I suppose that your as good as she was. Thatís why you got these things, yeah?”


“Hell no lad! There is no way I could drink a whole keg worth of stolen, unprocessed lager.”




-I took four of the pills and looked back out to the park-


“Why did you come back here Craig? Aní what did you want?”


“I wanted to see what the lasting memory of Beth was doing. And I can see that if she had a grave, sheíd be rolling in it. Youíre a disappointment lad. Fuck that Murphy fella, Iíd want him as my own son.”


“Oh ho ho, this guy. Iím a disappointment. Yes, finding out about my mothers fate, yes, taking care of my bastard of a bother, yes, saving our lives through getting into fist-to-cuffs with arseholes to the entertainment of others, but yes. I am a disappointment. Aní you? Youíve been out of my life for years, not being there to help me get through life? Not being there to get me out of the orphanage, aní stopping me from ending up in this life! You say Iím a disappointment. HaÖ Thatís fuckiní rich.”


-I took another sip of my coffee-


“Oh shiteÖ”


-The headache I had in my head started to fade but I was becoming overwhelmed with another feeling-


“Yeah lad your right, I wasnít there. I wasnít there when you needed true supervision. Not some half-assed, bollocks that the cathloic orphanages tried to teach ya. They were all rotten, rotten and slimy scumbags that tried to teach you right, but where you come from, there was no righting what was wrong in your world. No. Instead you found her, or rather, you found each other.”


-I started feeling, cold in my body, my hands started to shake-


“Sheís good to you, better than you know. You should listen to her, sheíll put you on the right path.”


-Craig got up and pat me on the shoulder-


“You should take a hit of that whiskey, itíll calm you down.”


-He left me, in this shaking state. He also left the pills with me as well. I didnít know what these were, there was no name, no label, just a small bottle of white pills. After watching him leave, I grabbed my flask from my pocket and took a swig of the whiskey. Not feeling it enough, I took another sip.-


“Sir? Are you alright?”


“Iím fine! Iím justÖ”


-I looked at my free hand and just now noticed that my fingernails have burrowed into the wood. I didnít notice this while Craig was here, nor did I feel anything with my fingers. When I relaxed my hand, I saw my fingers a little bloodied, and riddled with small splinters. I grabbed my coffee and the pills and left the Starbucks. I walked back to the Fight Tower, trying not to make myself seen. When I got across the street I saw at the corner of my eye, Craig was standing there, waiting to see what I would do. Instead of going back towards the tower, I went after Craig. When I did he stood just stood there.-


“Alright old man, what the hell are these pills? What did you do to me there?”


“Jesus kid, you have her killer instinct.”

“Her? What do you mean?”


“Those pills arenít anything more than ibuprofen. They do nothiní to ya. But what you haveÖ Is a killer in you.”


“ChristÖ Look, yeah I killed me dad, but that doesnít mean Iím-“


“You ARE Eoin! Your mother was a cold hearted one, just as you can be.”


-I stood there, wondering for a few moments. Remembering what Liz had said to me last week, about Annika, about making that promise.-


“Tell you what lad, Iíll see you again soon. And Iíll tell you all about how cruel and evil she was. And maybe that will help you see who you really are.”


-Craig gave me a hug and walked back among the New York crowd, I continued to stand, and wonder. Am I really a born murderer? I couldn’t think straight, but remembering my talk with Liz… Remembering what I did to my father, feeling how good it was then. I started to walk back to the tower and all I could think about was watching the life of my father vanish in front of me… I felt so rejuvenated then. Once I got back up to my floor, and opened the door, Eric was not on the couch anymore. He was still in the apartment though, I could hear scrambling around. As I sat down I thought to myself about who could’ve hurt her daughter in the manner of which they did… How can I give him pain.-


“Bro hey, real quick have you seen my pants?”


-Eric rushed in not wearing any sort of bottoms on. His pants from before, were on the floor next to me and I pointed to them and Eric rushed to them and pulled out a bag of weed-


“Thanks man, I gotta go!”


-Eric rushed out the door, still bottomless, and started running down the hall. Sometimes I wished I could kill my own flesh and blood again… But no… I gotta save my anger for the other Irish fellow. If I gotta kill another Celt to prove a point… Its not what I want. Its best not to think about it… Just drink the coffee.-