It’s Complicated But It Doesn’t Have To Be

5

EARLIER THAT EVENING

Brock pressed the button on the alarm with a satisfying click, letting him know that the car was now locked. Walking through the double doors and into the auditorium, he made his way to the bar, "Whisky on the rocks please." Pulling slightly at the black bowtie, he wasn't used to wearing a tux. He wore suits every day at work, but those were different. They were properly tailored, grabbing the whisky he headed to the table and placed his drink on the table with a satisfying thud.

Looking around he could see various people who he knew, Kevin Green was bearing down on Brock and fast. Brock shuddered visibly, he didn't usually hate people usually he was quite personable, but Kevin had one of those faces, he knew Kevin from high school, he was a slimy little weasel, he remembers what Kevin did to his ex-girlfriend.

He remembers Kevin asking Elle if she'd like to go to the prom knowing that Elle was with Brock, then he remembers her saying no and Brock and her going to the dance and before they announced the Brock and Elle as prom King and Queen, Kevin asked to meet her on the roof of the school building. They heard a scream and saw Elle lying there in a heap on the asphalt, unfortunately, there was no proof that Kevin pushed her, but all those in high school knew that he did.

"Brock, you're here," Kevin said sticking out his hand for Brock to shake only for Brock to ignore his hand and going back to his drink. “And so are you. I didn't realise they'd dropped the invites to insects."

Kevin's face turned into a scowl "Anita has her uses. It allows me to network and the CEO of Hartford Industries is here, I think I might see if I can charm her.." Licking his thin lips and his creepy eyes scanning the room before he continued "And hopefully into my bed, then I can take over Hartford Industries." As he said that Nancy walked past, "Hartford Industries? I work there." Kevin grabbed her waist and guided her away.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he saw a few business colleagues and started to get talking. "And then we decided to go with Robins” Smiling Brock excused himself, nipping to his car, he unlocked it and got out his digital camera. It was a small camera but took okay photos, if only he could use film, and his refurbished camera, he loved the long lens he had. Slipping the small silver box into his pocket he quickly went back to the auditorium.

Going back to his table, the people who were standing there had got him another whisky. Raising his glass he thanked them and scanned the room, now he could truly relax.

He looked from where he stood more or less at the back of where the tables were situated, but in line with the podium on the stage. He picked this spot because he knew he could get great angles of the winners. The lighting would be good too.

Waiting for the proceedings to start he looked over to his left and there he saw her, talking to a guy with blonde hair.

“Wow.” He said half to himself and half out loud, swallowing deeply he was about to go over and say hello when Anita walked by, searching for a missing again Kevin, she spilt the drink she was carrying over Brock’s tux sleeve, drawing his attention away from the woman in the red dress. As he dried his sleeve with a handkerchief that Anita had given him while she gave him goo-goo eyes, but apologetic in her voice.

The MC started and he paid attention to what was now going on in front of him.

Brock snapped away at other winners, discreetly, subtly taking photos, capturing their best sides and in the best lighting.

“Melissa Hartford.” The MC announced, applause came up, Brock scanned the room and saw her. Melissa Hartford is the woman he was looking at earlier.

As she glided onto the stage, his mouth dropped open, camera hanging loosely at his side. She shook the MC’s hand and stood at the podium.

Melissa had a full body halo, the lights lit her up like some angel sent from heaven, she looked fantastic, the curls on her head shone, exposing her long white neck, across her collarbones.

Snapping to reality he took some photos, 30 photos to be exact. He heard her make a joke about her brain telling her not to say things and he laughed. Genuinely laughed.

As she left the stage her saw people going to congratulate her on her award, getting there last he stood there waiting to shake her hand or speak to her, there were so many people thanking her.

Then she got talking to a guy in a white suit, Brock nipped back to his table to get his drink, he could tell she was going to be a while.

Taking his whisky, he drained the glass and nearly choked on the ice cubes. After a coughing fit, he gathered himself a minute. He didn’t want to go across red faced. When he was sure his face was no longer red he approached her table, to find the blonde guy stood there.

Frowning he asked “Where’d Melissa go?”

The blonde guy said “She left. She’s very busy and her feet were hurting. Sorry dude.” Putting a hand on Brocks shoulder the blonde guy walked away.

Clenching his hand onto a fist Brock cursed himself silently. If only he’d been braver.

Not too worry he’d find a way to get in touch. Even if it killed him.

As he walked back towards his table anger and frustration coursed through him. He was so stupid.

After five minutes the blonde guy approached a miserable Brock, “Jackson White.” He said sticking his hand out for Brock to shake.

“Brock Milligan. Photographer.” Brock said sadly.

“You take any pictures tonight?” Jackson nudged the camera with his elbow.

Brock brightened “Yeah would you like to see them?” Loading the digital screen.

As Jackson cycled through the photos of others quickly, he could tell that Brock was good, even to his untrained eye. Quickly he found what he was looking for, 30 photos of Melissa.

“You’re good Brock. I mean really good. Do you work for yourself?” Jackson asked

Brock laughed self deprecatingly “No man, I don’t have that sort of money available. Well I sort of do I’m saving up to try and start my own business. Got rejected by the bank as I have no capital so I’m renting an apartment with my brother to try and save money.”

Jackson smiled and said “Listen I’m about to tell you something that is a bit of a secret. Do you know what Hartford Industries trades in?”

Brock sort of knew but before he had a chance to say anything Jackson cut him off.

“They are big in the world of digital tech. Also one or twice a year Hartford Industries hosts an event, where they invest money into up and coming businesses, to expand in the global market. It give entrepreneurs a chance to start businesses that have not been given that opportunity by the banks, they support you every step of the way. And give you all the help and funding you need, even if you don’t make it through the first year easily. It’s called Featherlite.” Handing Brock a flyer for Featherlite Jackson turned giving a mock salute.

“I’m outtie, bye Brock.” Jackson said as he left. Staring down at the flyer Brock suddenly felt that for once something was going his way.

Leaving the auditorium he realised he’d had quite a bit to drink. Calling an Uber seems like the most sensible solution.

The uber arrived and Brock was now feeling the effects of the drink. With the Featherlite flyer in his pocket. He rang his brother and left a garbled message “Blake, Bro you there? No? Well that’s rude, anyway I’m coming home via an Uber, left my car at the...at the place where cars live, I couldn’t dink because I was driving, hee hee no I couldn’t drive because I wan drink. I love you Blake.” Clumsily putting his phone back in his pocket, he blacked out, dreaming of Melissa and photographs the sound of shutters clicking in his head. 

Brock woke up lying on the floor in front of the front door.

A smirking Blake standing over him “Good Morning Sunshine.” He was wearing board shorts and a vest.

Sitting up slowly, Brock put a hand to his head. “Ouch. Why am I on the floor?”

Blake crouched next to his brother, “Well big bro, let me tell you a story. It starts about midnight last night. I hear the answering machine beeping, it woke me up by the way, and I hear a very garbled message from you, drunk as a skunk. My night off and I thought I could get an early night. I heard the message and so decided to wait up for you, to come in. This is what I saw and heard.”

Blake grabbed his phone out of his shorts, opening the photos app and pressing the play button. Brock saw himself walk up three steps then slip and slide back down. Then he saw himself on his hands and knees, giggling, crawling up four flights of stairs. He saw Blake go back inside, the camera went dark but the audio was still capturing Brock’s voice “Ok ssshhhh I mustn’t wake Blake. Now where’s my keys. Keys. Keys. Ah there they are. Ok. Key goes in the lock, who moved the lock. Ssssssh who keeps talking. Okay. Lock where are you? Ah ha! Put key in and twist. Why isn’t it unlocking? Sssshhh who’s talking. Ah doors open.” Brock sees himself push down the handle. Blake had moved to behind the wall. Holding the camera out.

Drunk Brock is now sitting on the floor trying to take his shoes off. Taking his jacket off and thinking he’s hanging it up, putting it in the plant pot by the front door. Brock sees his drunk self lie on the floor “I’m just gonna lie on the couch for now. Tired.” And after 30 seconds he was snoring gently.

“You bastard.” Brock said. Laughing Blake said “You used your shoe as a pillow. Better get that sorted before you go to work. You have an imprint on your face.”

Laughing hard he walked away and shut his bedroom door.

Slowly very slowly as if his head would fall off Brock got to his feet. When he was stood at his full height he felt the effects of the vomit coming up and dashed off to the bathroom.

‘Why did I drink whisky? Every time I drink it I end up drunk. Why didn’t I just stick to beer? With beer I don’t get drunk.’ His head throbbed, his throat was sore, and his stomach ached. Pulling out his phone he messaged his boss to let him know he wouldn’t be in to work.

His boss texted back “Well I kind of assumed you wouldn’t be after the festivities of the IBA. Upload the photos before you Get some sleep and see you tomorrow.” Brock could tell by the message his boss was pissed but right now he didn’t care.

He opened his laptop and connected his camera putting them in a file, then uploaded the photographs to the companies cloud storage. Then Brock dragged his aching body to his bedroom, he fell face first diagonally on the soft mattress. And passed out.

SOMEWHERE ACROSS TOWN

The familiar ‘beep beep’ was the only noise in the quiet room.

A hand reached out from under the duvet and grabbed the phone.

Having just woken up it took three attempts for Melissa to remember the pattern of her phones Lock Screen. After a lot of swearing and a battle of woman vs machine - woman won.

Pest - Hey sis, I’m standing outside your door, let me in.

Springing out of bed, Melissa grabbed her silk robe and wrapped it around herself. Tying the belt, she found her comfy boot slippers, tripping over her own feet, the dining room chair, and the couch, letting out a very loud “You f*****g twat.” And “You stupid f*****g thing” As she did so, she finally made it to the front door.

Unlocking the door, she pulled the heavy grey door and there stood her younger brother Ryan Hartford-Bass.

Ryan Hartford-Bass was the youngest child of Shane Hartford and Suzanna Hartford-Bass. He had always been a very small, skinny kid, with chocolate coloured hair, and emerald green eyes, until he hit 13 and puberty kicked in.

He became broader and taller, he seemed to have muscle definition even though he never worked out. He was popular at school, a boy genius they called him, he was kind, loving and protective. He often called out bullies making them responsible for their actions, but rarely getting into fights. He stood there in his Dr Who T-shirt, long multicoloured scarf and long mackintosh coat, he wore red converse trainers, Ryan was also a massive nerd.

Standing there with a crooked smile and messy hair he said “Well aren’t you going to let me in squirt?” Ryan’s deep voice reverberated in her ears.

“f**k’s sake Ry. You know you’re always welcome here.” Melissa said steeping slightly to one side.

“You got a guy here? Is that what took you so long to answer the door?” Ryan cast a suspicious eye around the apartment, looking for signs of male activity Stalking towards the bedroom as he did so.

“Ryan I was asleep you little turd. I got in late last night from the IBA and I was up till 4am working. What time is it now anyway?” Melissa put her hands in her pocket for her phone only to realise it was on her bed.

Grabbing a pair of skinny black jeans, some underwear and a grey sweater dress, Melissa quickly threw them on.

“It’s 7:00 and who’s Blake Milligan and why is he texting you?” Ryan asked. Running into her bedroom Melissa dived for the phone now in Ryan’s hand who was standing by the bed.

Melissa and Ryan have always teased each other first it was Melissa who teased Ryan holding things in the air just out of his reach, so now being taller than her Ryan did the same thing.

Charging him like a bull she put al her weight behind it and shoved him onto the bed, catching him off guard and dropping her phone. As it dropped through the air Melissa caught it before it hit the ground.

Standing triumphantly Melissa said “I know more tricks than you think little bro. Come on let’s get breakfast. I will take you to my favourite coffee shop, they do amazing BLT sandwiches.”

Knowing that Ryan loved BLT’s he jumped off the bed and walked towards the door.

“Come on sis. Food.” He yelled. Melissa grabbed her dolly shoes, car keys and house keys and they headed out of the door.