Chương 2: Chapter 2: Bill Pitt
"Good afternoon, Tom."
"Good afternoon, Sunny."
At the entrance of the tavern where they both worked, Tom Hardy ran into Sunny, a fellow worker. Sunny greeted him warmly, and the two, who had worked together for three months, had become good friends.
Sunny was of French descent, with long chestnut hair tied up. While not particularly striking, she was young—only 19 years old.
There's a saying that there are no ugly young women, and Tom felt there was some truth to that.
The two entered the tavern together.
After changing into his work clothes and cleaning up, Tom noticed the afternoon crowd was sparse. But as the night progressed, more guests flooded in, and the tavern became noisy.
The tavern was a mixed place, filled with both decent people and troublemakers.
A man who had clearly drunk too much grabbed Sunny by the waist as she walked by and pulled her onto his lap, causing her to scream.
The other patrons saw this and no one intervened. Instead, they all smirked, enjoying the spectacle.
Tom noticed the fear in Sunny's eyes and glanced at the tavern owner, who didn't even look in their direction and continued serving drinks. After working there for a few months, Tom knew the owner was the type to turn a blind eye.
Despite the owner's indifference, Tom couldn't stand by and let Sunny be harassed. Although the drunkard wasn't causing too much trouble in the crowded room, his behavior was still a blatant insult to the girl.
Tom stepped forward, grabbed Sunny's arm, and pulled her away from the man. "Go to the back," he said.
Sunny quickly ran to the kitchen, giving Tom a grateful look.
The girl was out of his grasp, and the man who had grabbed her was furious. He glared at Tom angrily, muttering, "Kid, you looking for trouble?"
"This is a pub," Tom replied coldly. "If you're looking for a woman, go somewhere else."
The crowd laughed at Tom's words.
Being rebuked by a bartender made the drunk feel insulted, and he thought the laughter was directed at him.
He picked up his beer and threw it at Tom.
Tom dodged instinctively, avoiding most of the drink, though a bit splashed onto his clothes.
Without a word, Tom turned to leave.
Feeling humiliated by Tom's indifference, the drunk slammed his glass on the floor, shattering it with a loud crash.
Tom turned back to look at him, and the man sneered, "Kid, I broke my glass. Don't worry, I'll pay for it. But right now, it's your job to clean it up."
He pointed to the mess on the floor.
Tom grabbed a broom and started sweeping. But as he worked, the man stepped on the broom, glaring at Tom with a smug expression.
The crowd watched with interest, eager to see what would happen next.
Suddenly, a wave of anger surged through Tom.
After six months in this world, Tom's soul had fully merged with that of Hardy, and it had changed him. He had become much wilder, a far cry from his originally calm demeanor.
Looking up at the drunk, Tom's eyes turned cold. The man hesitated, startled by the fierce look in Tom's eyes—a look that reminded him of a predator ready to strike. For a moment, fear gripped him.
But he quickly shook it off. How could he be scared of a bartender? The thought of being intimidated by someone like Tom made him feel even more ashamed.
"Kid, you dare look at me like that?"
Fueled by his drunkenness, he swung a punch at Tom.
"Boom!"
Before the man's fist could reach Tom, Tom moved swiftly, landing a punch on the man's chin. The man flew backward, crashing heavily onto the ground.
Tom stepped forward, straddled the man, and grabbed him by the neck with his left hand. His right fist smashed into the man's face, hard and fast.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Tom didn't stop until the man was bleeding from his mouth and nose.
At first, the man tried to fight back, but after a few punches, he went limp, lying on the floor like a beaten dog.
The tavern owner rushed over and pulled Tom off him.
"Tom, stop! You're going to kill him!"
The other patrons were shocked. They had never seen Tom, usually quiet and reserved, lose his temper like this. If no one had stopped him, he might have killed the guy.
The police arrived shortly after. The man was taken to the hospital, and Tom was arrested for assault, awaiting trial and sentencing.
Tom was detained for about a week before his case went to court.
In court, Tom's lawyer presented a certificate of mental illness, and several witnesses, including Sunny, testified on his behalf. Since the other man had provoked the incident, the judge ordered Tom to pay $350 in compensation.
With the compensation and attorney fees, Tom's entire retirement allowance was wiped out. He even had to sell some belongings, including his second-hand Colt revolver.
Now, he was completely broke.
He lost his job at the tavern, too. The incident had caused trouble for the owner.
Tom tried to find another job, but everyone turned him down. The town was small, and word had spread about the fight at the tavern. People knew Tom was considered mentally unstable, and no one wanted to hire him.
Just as he returned home, Tom saw Sunny standing at his apartment door.
"Tom, thank you for helping me that day. I've quit my job, and I'm leaving Orange County," Sunny said.
"Where are you going?"
"I've saved some money, and I'm going to study."
"You're still young. You should definitely pursue your education. What are you planning to study?"
"I'm going to study law. I want to become a lawyer or a judge. What happened at the tavern inspired me."
"That's a great idea. I hope you succeed," Tom encouraged her.
Sunny O'Connor looked at Tom for a moment before stepping forward and giving him a tight hug. Then she kissed him on the cheek.
"Thanks again, Tom. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Watching Sunny leave, Tom wondered if he'd ever see her again. Many people cross your path in life, only to disappear forever.
Lying on his small bed, Tom pondered his future. It seemed like Orange County was no longer an option. Just then, the landlord came up and told him he had a phone call downstairs.
Tom went down to answer the phone, surprised to hear Bill on the other end.
Bill and Tom had been comrades in the same unit, the best of brothers. Tom had even saved Bill's life on the battlefield. Bill was injured in a battle and retired a year earlier than Tom.
Bill sounded excited on the phone. "Brother, I just found out you were injured and retired. It took me a while to track down your contact info. How are you doing?"
"Not great," Tom admitted, recounting his recent experiences and current situation.
"I'm broke and out of work. To make matters worse, everyone here knows I'm considered mentally ill, and no one wants to hire me."
Bill laughed. "That's not a big deal. Come to Los Angeles. There are plenty of ways to make money here."
So Tom packed his things and set off for Los Angeles.
As soon as he got off the bus with his suitcase, Bill pulled up in a Ford, jumped out, and gave Tom a bear hug.
After they separated, Tom took a good look at Bill. He had dark blond hair, clear blue eyes, and the kind of short stubble that made him look rugged. He bore a striking resemblance to Brad Pitt.
Tom thought to himself, "Bill's full name is Bill Pitt. Could he be Brad Pitt's grandfather?"
"Haha, Tom, it's great to see you again," Bill said happily, patting Tom on the shoulder.
"It's been almost two years. You've put on some weight since then," Tom teased.
"I'm strong, not fat," Bill retorted.
He grabbed Tom's suitcase and tossed it into the back seat of the Ford.
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