“…that’s what I said!” Breanna exclaimed, a bright look in her eyes. “I wanted to spice this place up, have some karaoke, throw some costumed bashes, right? But noooooo, my manager says we don’t do that. ‘We’re not supposed to make more money,’ she says. What kind of person says that? Who doesn’t want more money, right? Like, I have all these good ideas, and they just get shut down. I just stand here, getting drinks for random people and dicking around. Occasionally someone like you pulls through and I get a spot of decent conversation. Least I’m getting paid, I guess.”<br/><br/>Ryan nodded silently in assent, still sipping on his drink. Just as he was about to respond, the door to the back of the pub opened and a girl stepped out.<br/><br/>Oh. Even though his face didn’t change, he felt a surprising flurry of emotions and memories from his past self. It wasn’t that Ryan hadn’t been expecting Maureen, per say. Staying in Southie, stopping by Sully’s, the memories had always been there in him, a tangle of strands that cluttered the back of his mind. And the girl had always been in the center of that web, one of the only constants of his troubled childhood. So, was it any surprise that she was still here, clinging to her old life, his old life? It shouldn’t have been. But his childhood memories had been largely neglected in the chaos of combat, and there was another part of him that had thought that if he left, Maureen would too. That his growth would force her to grow as well, without being able to rely on him any further. That maybe she had managed to leave this isolated part of the world, gone off to bigger and better things.<br/><br/>Clearly, he had been wrong. As opposed to his changes, Mau hardly looked different at all. The cascading blonde hair. Her pretty face. All aged ever so slightly, but very much the same. And most damning of all… that just-so-slightly wild look in her eyes that indicated she had just hit a rail. It was no surprise that even with years of separation between them, he was still able to read her state of mind like a well-worn novel.<br/><br/>A couple memories knocked on the door to his consciousness. He told them that nobody was home. His gaze alighted onto the pendant resting over Mau’s collarbone and a single memory went for the misdemeanor, breaking and entering. It was a well-worn bauble, the silvery lustre almost gone after years of rolling it around through fingers. His fingers. Her fingers. Passed from hand to hand, a symbol of separation and an anchor of their past.<br/><br/>Maureen told Breanna to go; no doubt she wanted to talk to him. Breanna protested.<br/><br/>“You can go, Breanna,” Ryan said. “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for keeping me company, but I know Mau. Maybe we can resume our conversation later, but for now we’d be grateful for some privacy.”<br/><br/>“What?” Breanna asked, incredulous. “How would you two know-“ She cut herself off, a glimmer of recognition dawning in her eyes. Maybe it was the tone of Ryan’s voice when he spoke, markedly different from his prior conversational attitude. In a community like Southie, people talked – a lot. Gossip and tales of the past were almost like currency to be exchanged. And although Ryan and Maureen were hardly the most legendary people to talk about, they had carved a niche into the history of Southie with their years of partnership. Years past, they had been the pair, and had a reputation to boot. That reputation meant it was unsurprising that maybe Breanna’s mind had subconsciously put two and two together, her eyes drifting between the pair.<br/><br/>Breanna left quietly. Ryan looked at Mau, a cautious smile appearing on his face. “Mau,” he said quietly. “You look exactly the same as the last time I saw you.”