jonathanreyes

[jonathanreyes]

f-murray​:

Two Drink Finn could resist the call of karaoke.  Even Three Drink Finn could.  But Four Drink Finn?  The taproom stood no chance of coming out of the night without being serenaded by Finn at least once, if not more.  When there was a pause between volunteers, Finn quickly took his chance and grabbed the microphone, picking one of his go-to songs..  Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl).  A classic. 

He could still remember the bright days that came soon after dark ones, where his mother would swing him around in the kitchen, singing the song.  There’s a port on a western bay, and it serves a hundred ships a day…It was the song he most easily associated with his childhood, but only now, as an adult with hindsight, he realized why his mother had sung that song so much, and how it was obvious she had connected with the song.  Deluded herself into thinking that she had been Brandy, while his father was the sailor who wouldn’t leave the sea.  The sea being his real family, of course.  But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea… Regardless of his odd feelings on the song, shit was catchy, and one of his favorite songs to whip out at karaoke.  

“Mmm,” he hummed as took a sip of his beer, trying to acknowledge he heard the man without spitting out the beverage.  “It’s an under appreciated classic,” he replied once he had finally swallowed.  “And I fully intend to make my generation aware of what they’ve been missing,” he declared proudly.  “What about you, you gonna hit us with any ‘interesting song choices’?” 

-

Jonathan held a soft spot for 70′s music, and Looking Glass’ classic was certainly no exception; he was simply surprised to see someone that appeared so young also having an unreserved and fervent appreciation for it, and he grinned, taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, absolutely not,” he replied easily, amusement coloring his tone. “I ended up here on accident. I have no intention of participating,” he offered, his tone jovial despite his firm insistence. “Although I’m definitely enjoying this more than I anticipated, which is a pleasant surprise.” Jonathan scanned the crowd, then, trying to anticipate who might be next, before he glanced back at the man next to him. “What led you here? Big karaoke guy?” It wouldn’t surprise him if that was the case; with the enthusiasm with which his new companion performed, Jonathan pegged him as a life of the party. 

[jonathanreyes]

jasonmaddox​:

Karaoke had never been Jason’s thing. Not when he was growing up, and certainly not now. He’d never been the kid who just had to sing, and it was almost surreal that so much of his job now revolved around his voice. Oh, he’d never disliked singing, and fronting a band had given him a new appreciation for it, but if he was looking to make music, he’d reach for a guitar. If he was feeling spicy, maybe his saxophone. But it was with an instrument, always, that he was most comfortable. That he’d choose. So when his quiet night at the taproom turned into karaoke night, Jason considered just heading back home. He hadn’t meant to be out that long, anyway; he had a foster dog at home, after all. But he’d just gotten a new cider, and he wasn’t about to chug it before driving home. He nursed his drink, tuning out the singers as much as he could, hoping the kareoke machine didn’t have any RICHTER songs, and if it did, that nobody would pick one. That was a level of uncomfortable he’d have to be actually drunk to endure. The cider must’ve been stronger than he thought, though, because by the time his bottle was empty, Jason had forgotten any reason he shouldn’t go up on that stage and sing. Which he promptly did, choosing to sing a Lizzo song, ‘Good as Hell.’ By the time he’d finished, he was feeling decidedly more sober, for better or worse, and he offered a rueful grin at the remark. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I’m almost afraid to ask, what were you expecting me to chose?”

-

Jonathan laughed good-naturedly, appreciating the man’s demure response, the touch of embarrassment that colored it. He couldn’t remember himself when the last time he did karaoke was, but he was self-aware enough to recognize that he’d likely had to have been absolutely plastered. “Classic rock, maybe?” He implored, though he wasn’t altogether confident in that, either; whatever it was he was anticipating when the man before him stepped on to the stage, he certainly didn’t receive it. Still, he could appreciate someone with a varied music taste, appreciating a broad spectrum of genres himself. “It was good! Quite good. Admittedly...better than I was anticipating,” Jonathan confessed, smirking. He took a sip of his beer. “You’re certainly more talented than most of the people here, I think. Or, at least, most of the people I’ve heard tonight.” He offered a small, bemused grimace. 

[jonathanreyes]

avajameson​:

🖋

Brow raised slightly at his answer, almost impressed by it. “You must love it.” The only thing she’d imagined devoting her life to in the same way was music, so much so that it still felt almost impossible for her to imagine sticking at anything else for a prolonged period of time. “What sort of thing do you freelance?” She was usually the last person to let curiosity take hold of her, tending to allow others their privacy, but she found herself keen to hear his answers. Wondering if his passion might be contagious enough to spark up some in her. “My first journalism gig, yeah.” Usually she’d be inclined to leave it there, always slow to offer up information about herself, but part of her wanted to elaborate. If only because if anyone had answers about whether journalism was a fulfilling career it would be someone who’d given fifteen years of their life to it. “But if I’m honest, I’m still trying to figure out if it’s for me or not.” There’s a small shrug given and her words are spoken with a careful neutrality when she didn’t want to pass anymore judgement on the profession. After all, any distance she felt between herself and writing was more a reflection on her than the job itself.

-

Jonathan shrugged with one shoulder, congenially. He did love it--or, the idea of it, at least, which had been enough to carry him this far in his career. It was his side-gig that saved him, though, if he were being honest. Which he intended to do; he smiled at the woman’s inquiry. “I contribute to a few music blogs. Mostly just reviews, really.” He wasn’t sure what validity those held to Ava; while Jonathan had long-enjoyed being a music critic, he understood that any art’s appeal was purely subjective, and that could sometimes cause a stir when he mentioned his extra-curricular writing. He nodded as Ava confirmed his theory, and then pulled his lips down slightly, evaluating her words. “That’s fair,” he admitted. “It’s not the most compelling place to be covering the news, so that might affect your opinion of the profession,” he offered. “What are you covering now?”

[jonathanreyes]

Humboldt Cider Co Taproom | @eureka-starters​

Jonathan was not much of a drinker. He occasionally indulged in a beer after work, but that was largely the extent of his foray into alcohol consumption. Even after Diana left, he simply didn’t find a need for it; he could understand the allure, but, perhaps perversely, preferred not to numb himself to anything he was feeling. But while he didn’t particularly enjoy drinking, he did enjoy going to a bar. There was something about the comraderie of everyone there--the notion that, even though you were lonely, you weren’t alone. And typically, he was only one of a few patrons on the off nights he chose to go. It just so happened to be Karaoke night, and, unfortunately, when the emcee announced its procession, Jonathan was already half a beer in. So he resigned himself to the idea that this was what he’d gotten himself into, and decided to make the most of it, turning on his stool slightly to watch the steady stream of singers--a gracious overstatement for some of the patrons. He was surprised when, suddenly, the person a few stools away from him ambled up to the stage, as they’d shown far less interest in the proceedings than him. He watched them with a deal of admiration, and, as they came to sit down, raised his glass in their direction. “Interesting song choice,” he remarked. “Not what I would have expected.”

[jonathanreyes]

iMessage 📲 Charlie

Charlie: Chaotic, huh? What'd you do, spring for an everything bagel instead of plain this morning?

Charlie: Sounds lovely to me, bub, I don't have any tours past 11. To alleviate your mind numbingly boring day may I suggest el huerto secreto instead of the normal sandwiches from delish?

Jonathan: I'm on my fourth cup of coffee. Please put some respect on my name.

Jonathan: I am always interested in Mexican, even if my stomach is not. I'm in.

Jonathan: I hope your day is going better than mine?

[jonathanreyes]

avajameson​:

“Good to know, I’ll look forward to more of the same” The dry words are followed by a nod, confirming that she was something of a new start. “A few weeks, maybe even a couple of months now. Everything’s kind of blurred into one.” It wasn’t just work that had made it feel that way, not when her daily routine had become almost monotonous. She’d started to develop one in the hope that her life would feel more like her own, instead of the chaos in LA that had been so out of her control. But instead she’d just found herself almost bored by it all and once again wondering what she needed as wanted in life. Any rising anxiety over her choices is pushed away and a small smile flickered over her lips. “Ava. Have you worked here long?” While small talk was often a force of habit for her, holding conversations on autopilot with no real investment into their contents, she found that this time she was genuinely curious. If only for somewhat selfish reasons when his answer might give her some indication of what the future might be like for her. Whether it was the type of job she could stick at for the long run or she would find herself back at the drawing board sooner rather than later.

-

Offering a nod of understanding, Jonathan turned away for a moment only to  press on, and watched the carafe begin to fill for a few seconds before he turned back to face the woman. He leaned against the counter, pressed into its edge, and held his coffee up while he contemplated. “Ohhh...fifteen years? Something like that?” He gambled on the answer, not sure of the hard and fast start date. “I’ve worked here and then I do some freelancing. Keeps things interesting,” he reasoned, shrugging with one shoulder as he took a sip of his coffee. Writing was something like second nature to him, as natural as breathing, and it offered him very few challenges while he did so for the Tribune--even as he got promoted to pick up weightier subject matter, more in-depth pieces and elaborate profiles. It was hard for him to imagine doing anything else, though. He finished his sip, and implored, “Is this your first gig?”

[jonathanreyes]

tabsmalls​:

Whatever sense of self-preservation a person had, that sense to back down from a conflict, Tabitha lacked. She tended to blame it on being a Leap Day child – she was only eight and a half, how was she supposed to know better? So when a fellow library patron started in about spots and taking tables, Tabitha just held his gaze, staring at him with one eyebrow raised, playing their own weird game of chicken. She had just spread everything out in the way she preferred; she certainly wasn’t going to switch places now. In fact, Tabitha brought a leg up and rested a hand on her knee, perching in the chair the way she preferred to do.

(Perhaps this method of socializing, antagonizing others by simply playing by the rules and asking questions, leaning in to her abrasive nature, wasn’t conducive to being a beloved part of society. But that was something she could deconstruct later, when she was laying in bed unable to sleep again, pinpointing each and every way she’d gone wrong in conversation over the past few days.)

She blinked at his question, and furrowed her brow. Surely he had been going to put in more of an effort to throw his weight around? When the question hung in the air between them for a beat too long, Tabitha simply asked – “Are you doing anything illegal?” As if he’d give a straightforward answer. As if any normal person would. 

“I’d like some plausible deniability, if so,” she finally conceded, and pulled in a few of her pages to clear space for him. After all, it wasn’t like they were going to be chatting. She could handle the brief amount of time he’d stay here – because after all, she was stubbornly determined to outlast him now. 

-

Tension weighted the air down enough that Jonathan began to wonder if he’d made a mistake--if he’d chosen the wrong hill to die on by asserting his dominance in a case of an accidental seat thief...in a public library...full of other seats. The ridiculousness was evident, but there was something in him sharper than his doubt, something he couldn’t quite give a name. He couldn’t muster the wherewithal to be ashamed of himself; he only wanted to further buckle down. A small, imperceptible smile tugged at the edge of his lips as he watched her make herself more comfortable. He couldn’t imagine doing such if the situation were reversed, but then again, he wouldn’t have imagined himself challenging library territories. Nothing about him, it seemed, made sense to him anymore. 

“I’m a journalist for the Tribune,” he replied drolly, though he was, admittedly, amused at her inquiry. “I’m just here to get a few specs done by deadline. Very boring, but nothing illicit. I promise you.” If it were, he likely wouldn’t reveal as much to a stranger who seemed all too eager to be rid of him, but he could appreciate the intention behind her inquiry, and the fact that she wasn’t downright hostile toward him. He watched her expression carefully, surprised by her stoicism. “So?”

[jonathanreyes]

iMessage 📲 Charlie

Charlie: is today a ripley, meatball, or sprinkles kinda day?

Jonathan: Feeling quite chaotic. Might be a Meatball day.

Jonathan: Can I tempt you with lunch? I'm having a mind-numbingly boring day and I could use a jailbreak.

[jonathanreyes]

avajameson​:

Eureka Tribune || @jonathanreyes​

She’d known when she had applied for the job that the Tribune that it wouldn’t capture her attention the same way that music had. But then nothing ever would. It had seemed like a good enough substitute at the time - swapping one form of writing for another - but within weeks she’d known that it hadn’t and wouldn’t come close. The subject matter wasn’t the problem, if anything she felt as though she’d enjoy writing investigative pieces even less than she did the human interest ones. They were usually short and sweet, a couple of interviews and she had her piece. The pace was faster and if nothing else they kept her busy. But as she sits on her lunch break , pencil tapping out of habit, Ava finds herself wondering if she made the correct choice. Before she can contemplate too much she’s saved from her own introspection by someone else coming into the breakroom. One look at him told her that he might be feeling the same sense of ennui that she was and while it wasn’t the first time she’d noticed, it was the first time she’d remarked on it. “Exciting morning, huh?” Usually they only exchanged pleasantries but she was feeling a little more restless and so brows rose as she posed her question, slight smirk flickering over her lips to match the dryness of her words. It was maybe a gamble considering that he was her superior ( in time if nothing else, she had yet to care enough about the hierarchy to pay attention ) but if her hunch was right, and it usually was, he’d share her sentiments. 

-

One of the perils of working for the Tribune, at least for Jonathan, was the nine-to-five requirement. Very rarely did any of his work actually get done within those hours--most of it was performed in the middle of the night, as of late--and his showing up to the office five days a week was more or less a formality that his maintaining gainful employment was contingent upon. Honestly, if he’d thought that he wouldn’t get caught, he’d have long ago put a couch in his office to indulge in an afternoon nap or two a week. The only thing that kept him sustained, by and large, was coffee. He was en route to fill up for what was probably the fourth time that day when the woman posted at one of the breakroom tables spoke to him, and he guffawed as he emptied the last of the carafe into his mug. “They always are around here,” he bantered, a small smile on his lips. He set about making a new pot as he turned to look at her, trying to remember if they’d been introduced and failing. “You...haven’t worked here long, have you? I don’t think we’ve met, yet. Jonathan.”

[jonathanreyes]

tabsmalls​:

After the fourth move as a child, when her father’s work training new army recruits took them to yet another new city, Tabitha had started taking note of the things that remained the same no matter where she went. Math, of course. Shopping malls, particularly the food courts. And the library. It required signing up for a new card, but otherwise? Everything was in order, and after the first visit it was easy to figure out how it worked. The stability that the Eureka library offered was something Tabitha returned to every now and again, even after nearly fifteen years, and the strictly-enforced rules about quiet were a bonus. She’d packed in her paperwork, financial documents that she’d needed to review for tax season, and took the back corner where she could examine her papers at length. It was easy to fall into deep concentration over the tiny details needed to file her taxes successfully, and the reference book she’d found had helped immeasurably. Tabitha was completely oblivious to the world around her up until the moment the man before her spoke. 

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, nearly jumping out of her seat. It wasn’t that he was imposing or intimidating, but holy smokes – he’d been almost silent and she never noticed him creep up. “Do you make it a habit of sneaking up on people?” she asked without thinking better of it. What could possibly have been so important to him? “Can I help you?”

-

Jonathan’s brow knit, and he stood before the stranger simultaneously shocked and--oddly--slightly insulted; he had not, as she claimed, “snuck up” on her. Of anyone in the library at present, he was likely the least imposing character--including the reference desk librarians, which felt significant. “No,” he retorted, the annoyance curling the edges of his voice into something that sounded a bit petulant. “I’m not--I don’t need your help.”

He could see that he had now placed himself in an interesting position, and had no discernible logical way of getting out of it without potentially humiliating himself. The wisest thing to do, the mature thing to do, would be to bid this stranger a good day and turn around, stalking back out of the library with his tail between his legs. As a forty-year-old man, this is, undoubtedly, the thing Jonathan should have done.

And yet.

“You’re--I usually sit here,” he said, his voice clear. Challenging, almost. What was he going to do--duel this stranger for rights to a library table? Most assuredly not. But... “Do you mind if I...?” he trailed off, gesturing to the spot diagonal from her, the part of the table that wasn’t absolutely covered in what looked to be important documents. It was such a blatantly absurd request, but he refused to acknowledge as much.

[jonathanreyes]

Eureka Public Library | @tabsmalls​

There was little furniture and even less decor in the home he once shared with Diana, but there were still shelves lined with books, and yet Jonathan could always somehow rustle up an excuse to obtain more. He sought inspiration. He sought to be transported to some other place. Mostly, he sought the temporary companionship. He frequented the towns beloved booksellers, but there was nothing like the immersion of oneself into a library to fully escape reality for a few days. It also offered him a change of pace when it came to his workspace, and he’d found that invaluable; any and all excuses not to linger at home were welcome ones. So, after greeting the reference desk librarians with a customary nod, Jonathan ambled back to his secluded corner, bag slung over his shoulder, feeling particularly unmotivated but forcing himself to eek something out to meet his deadline, when he was met with a most unwelcome sight: another library-goer had found his spot. HIs spot. He balked. 

“I--” He stood still, awkwardly, like a kid introducing themselves in front of a classroom of strangers. He wasn’t sure why he felt so acutely judged. He swallowed, finally, and offered a meager, “...hello.”

[jonathanreyes]

Oscar Isaac as Jonathan in Scenes from a Marriage (2021)