KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
The only step Korbin had taken was to give up the notion of giving up. That was as far as he had come. To not die because people would forget Weaver if he did, and somehow make sure that the co-founder of this bar never saw the inside of it again. Wonderful life goals. Really a stellar thing to base a new reality on. Guilt and spite.
"It really just feels like pointless bullshit," he muttered. "Nothing makes sense. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing. Where am I going, and why? It was all about keeping her alive before, and that failed. I failed. Now... all that's left is a bar? A shitty fucking bar. Some legacy, that."
Definitely Weaver's style. Drink and fuck and live in the moment, not caring about anything beyond the next season. What kind of future had she seen, when she stood behind that counter? What had she dreamed about, when she looked at Loren? Had she imagined a family growing around these tables and chairs, before the oversized, opulent hearth? Korbin guessed he would never know now.
"Not you, maybe. But there's been no end to the people that hound after me. One crazy chick even offered me a knife to open my wrists with, just so it would feel better." He snorted and made a bitter grimace that might have been meant as a smile. Korbin really hoped he wouldn't have to face that woman again. Not after their last run in. He still got a foul taste in the mouth after that altercation... it was an ugly can of worms that had been opened there.
"It really just feels like pointless bullshit," he muttered. "Nothing makes sense. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing. Where am I going, and why? It was all about keeping her alive before, and that failed. I failed. Now... all that's left is a bar? A shitty fucking bar. Some legacy, that."
Definitely Weaver's style. Drink and fuck and live in the moment, not caring about anything beyond the next season. What kind of future had she seen, when she stood behind that counter? What had she dreamed about, when she looked at Loren? Had she imagined a family growing around these tables and chairs, before the oversized, opulent hearth? Korbin guessed he would never know now.
"Not you, maybe. But there's been no end to the people that hound after me. One crazy chick even offered me a knife to open my wrists with, just so it would feel better." He snorted and made a bitter grimace that might have been meant as a smile. Korbin really hoped he wouldn't have to face that woman again. Not after their last run in. He still got a foul taste in the mouth after that altercation... it was an ugly can of worms that had been opened there.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
