John is a tall and hulking but emotionally sensiti
John is a tall and hulking but emotionally sensitive 26 year old man with long black hair, tattoos, and big muscles, but also a little bit of stomach pudge from all the depression drinking and binge eating he’s been doing lately. He works at his small town’s local airport as a baggage handler (moving bags where they needed to go) following the breakup of his heavy metal band “Fractured Harmony”, which he started in college with a group of friends and had a lot of success with touring around the country and releasing a few successful albums until disputes about money and credit between the other members drove everyone away, including his ex-girlfriend Rachel who was a groupie before dating John and was only ever really with him for the fame and fortune John brought with him as a rockstar. The airport job sucks and isn’t what John wants to do with his life but he has bills to pay so after the band ended and Rachel left him for the next best rockstar she could seduce into a relationship, he didn’t have too many other choices. It’s been a year and a half since the band broke up and John has been having a string of shitty days at his airport job that are beginning to really take a toll on his sanity and mental health. When he gets out of work he follows his nightly routine of going home on his motorcycle, getting piss ass drunk on the couch, reading the fake and meaningless sexual messages he gets from the random girls he talks to on dating apps, and jerking off in his messy apartment; crying and lamenting about how lonely he is and how badly he wants a real girlfriend who will take care of him and love him for real. Just as John is about to pass out on the couch from all the drinking he’d done, he suddenly feels a wave of nausea and runs to the bathroom just in time to begin throwing up, cursing himself and his life in between hurls. Suddenly, John hears the sound of someone entering his apartment. It’s Luna, a beautiful young 24 year old woman with short blue hair, dazzling brown eyes behind cat-eye glasses, and a kind and caring smile. She loves music, reading, and art and aspires to be a tattoo artist with her skills one day. She is also John’s next door neighbor and heard him throwing up through the walls and came over to make sure he was ok. John attempts to wave off her concerns, not wanting to bother her with his crap or the massive crush he’s trying to hide from her, but Luna insists on helping him anyways because she’s a kind person who cares about John and may or may not have the biggest crush on him as well. After helping john settle back onto the couch, Luna goes to his kitchen to make something to help settle his stomach, but quickly realizes that john has no food. Luna offers to go get food for John but he only accepts under the condition that she take his card so he can pay for the food. Luna accepts but comments that John should take better care of himself and that she’s worried about him, before leaving the apartment to go get groceries for the both of them. John is left on his couch to contemplate his life and the incredible woman from next door who seems to care more about him as a person than his ex-girlfriend ever did throughout their whole relationship. When Luna returns from grocery shopping a while later, John pretends to be asleep, too ashamed to face her again after all she’d done for him that night. She drops his groceries in his fridge before heading over to him, brushing the hair out of his face and placing a gentle kiss to his forehead before leaving the apartment as though she’d never been there. But John knew she’d been there, and more importantly he knew exactly how he felt about the artistic beauty now, realizing that the connection he’d been looking for may have been closer than he could have ever imagined.
The stench of regret hung heavy in the air, thick as the stale beer John had been drowning himself in. His stomach churned, the familiar wave of nausea cresting, threatening to spill over. He stumbled towards the bathroom, the linoleum floor cold beneath his bare feet. He retched, the sound echoing in the cramped apartment, a pathetic symphony of self-pity.
He was a shadow of his former self. The rockstar swagger, the confidence that had radiated from him on stage, was now buried beneath layers of self-loathing and the weight of his own disappointment. Fractured Harmony, the band that had been his life, his purpose, was a shattered dream, the shards scattered across the wreckage of his heart. Rachel, the woman who’d craved his fame, was gone, replaced by another rockstar, another fleeting flame.
He hated the airport, hated the monotonous routine of hauling luggage, hated the emptiness that gnawed at him like a persistent hunger. The days were an endless blur of drudgery, each shift a reminder of the life he’d lost. His nights were spent drowning his sorrows, chasing solace in empty bottles and meaningless hookups.
He slumped onto the couch, the world blurring around him. Just as he felt the familiar numbness of the booze settling in, a sound pierced through the fog of his self-pity. A muffled thud, then the unmistakable click of the lock on his apartment door.
John’s eyes cracked open, the sight of Luna standing in his doorway a jarring intrusion into his self-inflicted misery. She was a ray of sunshine in his drab world, her vibrant blue hair, cat-eye glasses framing her dazzling brown eyes, and her soft smile, all a stark contrast to the darkness that had enveloped him.
He mumbled a greeting, his voice thick with shame and alcohol, and tried to wave her away, unwilling to expose his vulnerability to the kindhearted woman next door. But Luna, ever the beacon of compassion, couldn’t ignore the raw anguish in his eyes.
“You alright, John?” she asked, her voice soft but firm.
He shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. The pain he felt was too raw, too personal to share with anyone, let alone the woman he was desperately trying to keep at arm’s length.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
Luna wasn’t fooled. “You were throwing up,” she pointed out gently.
John tried to brush her off again, but the wave of nausea returned, twisting his insides.
“I’m okay,” he mumbled, feeling a deep flush crawl up his neck.
Luna, ever persistent, stepped into his apartment, her presence a soothing balm against the harshness of his reality. She helped him back onto the couch, her touch surprisingly reassuring, sending a shiver down his spine.
“You need to take care of yourself,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “This isn’t good for you.”
He was about to protest, to tell her to leave him alone, but her words hung in the air, sharp and clear.
Luna made her way to his kitchen, intending to prepare something to settle his stomach. But the sight that greeted her made her heart sink. The shelves were bare, the refrigerator was empty.
“John, you have no food!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a sharp edge of concern.
He mumbled something about having forgotten to go shopping, his embarrassment echoing the emptiness in his apartment.
“I’ll get you something,” Luna offered, her voice warm and reassuring. “I’m going to the store anyway.”
He hesitated, the fear of burdening her pushing him to decline. But Luna, ever the empathetic soul, insisted.
“Take my card,” she said, handing him his credit card, her eyes twinkling with a playful mischief. “It’s the least you can do for the woman who’s just saved you from a night of self-destruction.”
He felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time, a warmth that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice softer than before.
Luna smiled, a genuine, kind smile that lit up her face. “I want to. And you need to take better care of yourself,” she added, a note of firm concern in her voice. “And John?” She paused, her eyes meeting his. “I’m worried about you.”
John’s heart stuttered in his chest. Her concern, her care, it was like a balm on his wounded soul, a soothing whisper in the deafening silence of his loneliness. He didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t say anything. He just nodded, his gaze fixed on her, his heart pounding in his chest.
Luna left, her presence leaving a vacuum in the room, a void that echoed with the lingering scent of her perfume and the warmth of her touch. He watched her leave, the world outside his apartment window blurring into a kaleidoscope of color as he tried to process the whirlwind of emotions that had swept through him.
When Luna returned, laden with grocery bags, John pretended to be asleep. He was too ashamed to face her, to acknowledge the depth of his feelings, the overwhelming wave of gratitude that had left him speechless.
He heard her place the groceries in his refrigerator, the gentle clinking of bottles and cans a comforting melody in the silence. He felt her presence beside him, the soft brush of her fingers against his hair. Then, a gentle kiss on his forehead, a whisper of warmth that lingered even after she left.
John opened his eyes, the room bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights. He was alone, but the lingering scent of Luna, the warmth of her kiss, the gentle caress of her touch, were all tangible reminders of her presence. His world, once shrouded in darkness, was suddenly bathed in a soft, golden light, a light that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with Luna. He had a feeling this was the beginning of something new, something real, something beautiful. And he was finally ready to embrace it.
