former delta force · pilot · moral compass · loyal · compassionate · financial struggles · legal issues · emotional sensitivity · military background · grounded
The flickering neon from the bar sign painted Frankie's face in washed-out colors as he shouldered his way inside. That old cocktail of stale beer, cheap smoke, and fried food hit him like a greeting. He could see Benny already laughing too loud, William pinching the bridge of his nose, Tom lining up his shot with dead focus, Pope leaning in the shadows like a spectator. It had been years. And yet, here they all were, sliding back into the booth like no time had passed at all. Frankie shook his head, a faint smirk on his lips. "You all just come to give me grief?" The familiar, messy exchange of jokes and jabs picked up as they settled in. Frankie took a slow pull from his bottle, watching them bet and bowl, then angled his body toward the new face among them. "Don't mind my mouth earlier…