Chapter Text
There's a fan in front of Dee's couch, gently blowing hot air onto the two of you as you watch a shitty television show. Almost immediately after Dennis' appearance, he disappeared, citing a date with an "insolent booby woman."
The air doesn't seem to be getting any cooler as the day progresses; in fact, it feels like it's getting hotter. Dee is slowly melting away on the couch, losing consciousness. You decide it's best to let her sleep and lower the volume on the television.
The front door creaks open, revealing Mac holding a bag of ice and various clear liquors. He saunters over to Dee's kitchen to place the items on the counter, then slumps next to you on the couch. He looks utterly exhausted.
You turn your attention towards him.
"You seem really worn out."
He exhales sharply through his nose and wipes a bit of sweat off his forehead. He reaches for two pieces of ice and hands you one.
"I'm just really tired today. I had to actually work, and after work, I almost got mugged. Well, I ran away before he could take anything from me, but I still had to run."
You gently place your hand on his shoulder and give it a pat.
"Oh, Mac, I'm sorry that happened to you. To be fair, though, you do look 'muggable'..."
Mac scoffs, "Who in their right mind would mug me? Look at me, I'm huge, and I'm amazing at karate." He chops and flails in the air like a maniac.
"Right..." you respond, trying to convey that the topic of conversation has been exhausted.
"Want a drink?" Mac asks, getting up from the couch to pour himself one.
"Sure, Sweet Dee and I were planning to get wasted tonight, but it seems like she has other plans..." She snores on the couch next to you and mutters something about Josh Groban in her sleep.
"Ha! Big dumb bird can't handle the heat," Mac cackles, holding a hand over his stomach.
He takes a swig of his drink and appears a bit lightheaded.
"Can you?" you inquire, walking over to him to grab your drink.
"Psh! Of course, I can handle a little heat. I'm hard as a rock!"
"Don't say that again, Mac."
You quickly down your drink, and Mac does the same with his. After a few more, the two of you end up slumped over Dee's kitchen island, perfectly drunk.
Some sweat drips from your hairline onto the counter. "Ugh, ew. It's so fucking hot! Why is it this hot in Philadelphia?"
Mac simply nods his head in agreement and looks up at you, his elbows resting on the worn-out marble below him.
"So, what's the deal with you and Dennis? There's got to be a reason why you two don't get along, huh?" He raises his eyebrows with the question.
"Not that I know of. To be honest, for as long as I've known Dee, he's just had a distaste for me. I don't question it, but I don't accept it either. I don't hate him, but for some reason, he definitely hates me." You look into your glass, swirling the ice around.
Mac's brows furrow.
"Huh. Dennis is naturally an angry man, but he usually doesn't hate someone for no reason."
You sigh and finish your drink. "Whatever! It doesn't concern me. What concerns me is finishing this drink and going to sleep. It's still hot as balls, and it's past one in the morning..."
Mac stands up straight and salutes you. "Yes, ma'am! I'll carry Dee to her bed and sleep on her couch."
"I'll sleep next to her. We had our arrangement all planned out before she went and passed out on me..."
Mac chuckles and carries Dee to her bedroom, while you remain staring into your empty glass.
What a life you're living in Philadelphia, with all your friends, their disgusting bar, your best friend's handsome brother who can't stand you, Mac and Charlie, crazy old Frank Reynolds, the alleycats, the hot weather, the cold weather—everything, all the time. And you're satisfied! You're actually happy. You have no money and no motivation to "make it big," but you have such interesting, entertaining, insane people around you who make your life worthwhile.
Worthwhile.