Fearghas didn't know they sold Guinness in that small little department store in Rosebury until just that day. He also happened to hear it on the grapevine that a guy could get him the drink for just a couple extra bucks. His family gave him a good bit of money, which he had yet to use much out of because he just learned of the magic abilities of the manager's son, he could "procure" you some drink or fags for a few bucks over price. Fearghas jumped on the chance to taste home again and paid up, even if it was kinda steep. He walked out with a paper bag with two sixers of Guinness and a smile on his face.
He brought it to his little clearing where liked to read and sat back, the cool spring air complementing the high feeling he got when he finally got to open up the can. He popped it off as he sunk into the bench, kicking his feet out and letting out a little sigh. He brought the black stout can to his lips, raising it slightly. The dark liquid tasted heavy and almost chocolaty, but it had a third taste. It was one that no one would have in the area, a taste of home. He got greedy, it wasn't just a taste, but a feeling, he could see it with every sip. Green fields, his little village outside Ennis, a patch of wild red hair, cool breezes, a night out with his friends a couple weeks before Beata. He finished the can before he knew it and went to the second, his memories becoming more vivid, and he was brought back to a good minute ago, a year and a half...
A bike's tires vroomed on the asphalt under him, kicking up dust when he went into the grass to avoid a car or just cause he wanted a quick detour. He peddled rapidly, his breathing loud in his ears and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest just about ready to burst out. He was too excited though, and any semblance of exhaustion didn't show as he kept the red two-tone bike moving down the mile long stretch from his village to the large city of Ennis. It felt like the tires of his ride were just about to fly off as he zoomed down the road in the clothes he rapidly hopped into after getting home from school. The jeans were only a day old and were mostly stainless except for a touch of mud from a scuffle he got into with one of his friends and the shirt was the cleanest dirty one he could salvage, a white button up that somehow remained stainless throughout it's use and time spent on the floor. He saw Ennis getting closer and closer, but his legs were getting heavier and heavier, the pedals were getting harder and harder to push. He decided it was best just to coast it for the last part of the ride, so he eased himself into the not so comfortable seat, breathing heavily enough to strain his lungs and diaphragm for a few seconds, before the wind would begin flowing through his hair and he felt absolutely blissful.
His eyes closed as he let in a breath of the fresh Irish air, only about one hundred fifty yards from the city limits, when a buzzing sound pierced his ears...What in the H- A horn rung in the air as a car went flying past him, leaning slightly off the road. Fearghas was able to eye a man flipping him the bird. Fearghas' face turned to anger, even if it was his fault, what was the point of being so rude? Well, I can play like that, Fearghas thought as he made one arm into an upward facing 'L' smacking his bicep with his free hand, extending his fist out slightly, knuckles to the driver. That's when the bike began to wobble, slightly as he began seeing car salesplaces and houses, but as soon as he felt like he was getting straight his front tire collided with a curb. Fearghas yelped as he met a sudden stop, moving at such speeds that he pushed down onto the handlebars, tipping forward he threw his arms out, heading facefirst right over the sidewalk and towards the grass. All he was able to do with his arms out was hope for the best as hit palms first, his elbows hitting next, then his torso with a thud finally ending with his legs. Just at th second he thought it was over, the bike came bouncing right off of his calf, landing on a white fence inches from where Fearghas lie.
The black-haired boy let out a groan as his white shirt now took on a sickly green on the elbows, the bottom of his stomach and his collar was half popped. He placed his left palm on the ground, pushing down and flipping over, his black hair displaced by the ground he looked up to the blue sky with clouds floating peacefully overhead. A sigh escaped his lips as a familiar voice rang out, somewhat on the low side, but when anything was enunciated his voice would peak up an octave. "'Ey! Is tat ye Fearghas? What have you gone and done now? I told ye tat bike was dodgy you dope!" A 5'9 16 year old came jogging down the street, a small white bag with a red seal and the letters 'B & B' was in one hand. He stopped right above Fearghas putting his hands on his knees and looking at him face to face, done up wearing a pair of black jeans, green Wellington boots with a black jacket and green shirt under it's opened interior. His dark green eyes showed humor as they met Fearghas' brown eyes, "Shut up, you eejit, Ceallach, I just hit te curb." Fearghas said with discontent, then his face contorted with confusion "What're you doin' in yer Wellies? And what's wit te Bed and Breakfast bag?"
