Spencer walked inside the police office, he sighed painfully. It had been quite a while since he started to look up his step – brother’s death case. It was honestly turning to be obnoxious.
Most people said Rain Watson, his brother, was a wretched boy, Spencer would say otherwise. He could feel it, even in the pictures he’d once seen. Rain lived a happy life. His hapless lose compounded to the woe, it afflicted him deeply.
“There goes Spencer.. still searching for his brother” an old lady behind the police station counter muttered under her breath.
“There goes an old lady.. bereft of compassion, always meddling in other’s lives” Spencer deceived in a mocking tone of voice.
The old woman showed a gloomy expression as she lifted her gaze at Spencer. “Another copy of Rain Watson?” She asked, although she already knew the answer.
Spencer smiled under his dirty, dark mask. His appearance was harrowing to others. “Yes, still at it..” he said delicately as he descried the woman’s lack of sympathy. She bent down to open a drawer and handed him the extensive pile of papers collected over the years, by Spencer himself.
He snuck his gloved hand out and clasped the file firmly. “May you have a good day” he spoke with a gentle gesture. He quickly walked out of the station and got in the car that was waiting for him.
He kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and shut the car door. As the seat belt clicked on its lock, he exhaled in relief. Seeing Jean always planted a smirk on his face, even in haunting times like this one.
Jean laughed a little, glancing at Spencer’s relaxed face. “Its good to see you, dear! What were you doing in here?” She asked curiously as she turned on the car. Her breathing was serene, now that she sat next to her boyfriend. It was pleasant to see him again, even with his coat and fedora on, which Jean thought seemed funny and childish at times. She drove wondrously betwixt the bust streets and dark alley ways of Britain.
Spencer looked down at his file, somehow managing to read it through despite the car moving abruptly. “Oh, just visiting” he replied, still focusing partly on the papers.
Jean looked over at Spencer for a moment, and frowned slightly “visiting? Who were you visiting over there?” She inquired, curious about the response.
Spencer didn’t bother to look up at her, still reading silently. “my uncle, remember when they sent him to prison? With no merit whatsoever?” he asked, raising his voice just a little. “I just wanted to keep him company..” he lied, now with a calmer voice. His uncle wasn’t imprisoned, he just needed an excuse to give to Jeannie. He supposed, she would be tired of hearing about the murder.
Jeannie took a deep breath as she turned left on a green light. Though she didn’t remember anything about his uncle in prison. Sometimes she really felt confused towards Spencer. But it didn’t matter, as they were entering the apartment, which they shared.
He walked in and closed the door behind him, holding his papers in his hand. “I’ll be up in my room, Jean.. I’m not hungry” he said softly and rushed upstairs towards his tiny, but filled, office.
Before Jeannie could say anything in favor or against it, Spencer left. She exhaled and decided to concentrate on making dinner, in fact, she really enjoyed cooking.
Jeannie was always affectionate with Spencer when he felt down, but now they were distant with each other, since Spencer was reluctant to open himself up to her. She sometimes seriously wondered if the nicknames his friends gave him was actually a joke or not, because it was really descriptive for him. “Moody Spencer..” she mumbled and chuckled a little.
On the other hand, Spencer was obsessively immersed in the death case of his brother Rain. It became his motive, the reason he got up from bed in the mornings. It made him sick mentally but, that didn’t stop him from keeping through with it. He turned on the desk lamp, that sheen the room. He glanced through it all night long. Just as he made out with the papers, he got called up by his boss at the hospital he worked in. “Right.. of course I work here” he thought to himself sarcastically, as he picked up his phone, with dissension.
Spencer got up from his chair and ran downstairs, he shoved a glass of water down himself, since he didn’t eat anything the night before, or slept the right amount of hours, for that matter. He put on his sunglasses and decided to take a taxi all the way to the hospital. He greeted the driver and hopped in the car “can you take me to Brooklyn’s Hospital please? Exit 3. Come on buddy, let’s go!” He indicated the driver and leaned back on the seat. He sighed, closing his eyes slowly. The drive was long, after all, so he took advantage of this to get a few minutes of rest, even if it meant experiencing a blasting headache later.
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