Deceptive clarity

On the football field in front of Harper Woods High school, family and friends gather on the bleachers and down by the gate surrounding the field listening to a motivational speaker speaking on the graduating class lined up on the field. Amongst the graduating class in the back row on the end is BERNARD DRIVE. His head is lowered in shame, rubbing the diamond engagement ring on his right hand. His best friend PHIL standing beside him is trying to convince Bernard he should let go of what he’s thinking about because there’s nothing that can be done to change it, but Phil’s words go unheard. Sixteen years later, Bernard is now a hot shot lawyer coming out of the courthouse getting surrounded by reporters asking him how he feels about winning the biggest case the county has ever had. Bernard gives them an arrogant response leaving them speechless, smiling fixing his tie walking away to his car parked down the street. Approaching his car, there’s a homeless man standing beside his car door jingling a Styrofoam cup filled with coins. Bernard approaches the man and they exchange heated words. Ready to fight the man for what he said, Bernard prepares to swing, but he looks back seeing the reporters staring at them.

Knowing a fight would tarnish his name, Bernard slings the man to the side getting in his car, but before he can close the door, the man grabs the car door telling Bernard “This is a case you won’t win.” and then throws a balled up paper bag in the car. Bernard pulls the door, and the man moves his hand before getting it smashed. Bernard pulls off just as the reporters reach his car. Driving a few blocks away, he pulls into an alley coming to a stop. Reaching down grabbing the bag opening it, written in sloppy black marker it reads “Vengeance is only sweet, when you make the person you love realize how sweet it is.” Laughing tossing the bag out the window, Bernard places some sanitizer in his hands rubbing it in good, before starting the car pulling off. That night, Bernard is sitting on his bed thinking about what the note said, while listening to classical music drinking cognac. He laughs standing to his feet. There’s a long scar on his right side from being stabbed years ago. Walking over to his mini bar, he grabs a bottle of cognac ready to pour another round, and then he blacks out having a flashback of a conversation with his mother when he was younger. Coming back to reality, he pours a round throwing it back, slamming the glass on the counter cracking it with a sinister smile, turning to walk out the bedroom.