Seven days. Seven days since Anna's funeral and Archer was an absolute wreck. Jobless, haggard from days away from home, and on the brink of a mental snap.
He didn't know what he was going to do next and in all honesty that scared him the most.
Archer would find himself wandering without knowing where he was going and ending up in places that had some connection to their relationship.
The tree where they had their first kiss, the bookstore where they met when he had worked part-time there one summer break. They had hit it off almost immediately, Archer was, by heart, a cynic and never did believe in ideals like love at first sight, but Anna defied logic with her smile and her eyes.
She was the one thing he could find right in the world and now everything was wrong again.
But he couldn’t go there now. He needed to stop tripping down memory lane because he kept skinning his knees on the blacktop that now replaced the yellow brick roads that had once been there.
Archer had wandered again and right now he found himself outside of a bar whose bartender he knew quite well and who had felt sorry enough for him to give him a drink or three despite Archer being barely 18. he walked into the bar and took a seat at one of the empty tables and waved to frank, the bartender, for a double on the rocks as he started sizing up everybody in the room.