derek and dessicant

Who: Derek and Dessicant
Where: Outside the Wooden Nickel
When: Evening

Derek was used to having to leave places to smoke so in habit he left the bar, which could only be classified as a ‘dive bar’ for a quick cigarette. He chuckled to himself thinking of what his stock holders would think to see him leaving such a place. It would probably some big scandal that would turn into him having a mythological drinking problem or even worse, a drug problem. Then his board of directors would insist that he check himself into a rehab center to deal with his ‘problems’, when in fact he hadn’t had a drink all night and had already tried most drugs and found them boring. Of course no one would even believe the -real- reason he was there. Gossip.

Derek leaned up against the side of the building and pulled his pack of reds from the pocket of his jeans and his lighter. He’d dressed down for his night out, not wanting to attract too much attention. However, those with a keen eye for fashion would know that even though he didn’t look like a rich business man, everything he wore was still a designer label. Pulling out a stick he set it caringly between his lips and lit it with the small flame from the lighter. Leaned his head back, letting out the stream of smoke from his first drag, watching the sky start to slowly let go of its tears again. It was almost as if it wasn’t crying, but sweating.