In the later hours of dawn, JT is lying in bed, sleeping soundly when he awaken by his phone ringing. It's Jessica's mother. JT answers the phone.

"Mrs. Bellen? What's going on?" JT asked, curious as to why Jessica's mother was calling him.

"I-it's terrible...Oh my God!...I-I...please...please...No..." Her speech was interrupted by her wailing before it cuts out and Jessica's father, Mr. Bellen takes the phone and simply says.

"Just come over here." His tone was straightforward and almost cold. The phone hung up and JT began to scramble and get out of the house.

Almost an hour later JT arrived at Jessica's house, there he witnessed one of the worst scenes he had ever witnessed. An ambulance was parked in front of the house and as he arrived, a stretcher with a black body was being carried out of the house and loaded into the ambulance.

"J-Jessica!"

His own voice echoed within his mind as he wakes up in a cold sweat and frantically looks around his room. He finally notices his alarm clock going off. He exhales heavily as he shuts off the alarm clock and looks over the picture on his nightstand. He stares deeply into Jessica's bright blue eyes. 

"I'm so sorry..."

JT gets out of bed and changes into his work clothes. A neon orange T-shirt with "PJ Mechanical" written on the back and the shirt pocket. It's covered in spots where mastic, flux, and inks, and paint. He puts on a rugged and worn pair of stonewashed blue jeans, above-calf Hanes socks, and a pair of square toe Ariat workhog boots. The toe on the front of the boots is slightly exposed. 

JT walks over to his fridge, pulls out a RedBull and starts drinking it. He looks out his kitchen window and sees his bike, Demon, but next to it in the driveway, his truck. A 2018 Toyota Tacoma. Small, but durable and with the right care and maintenance, will last a lifetime. JT grabs his keys for it and heads out the door. 

He gets in his truck and sighs. "Let's see what kind of bullshit work has for me." He starts the truck up and drives off to work. After a thirty minute commute JT makes it to work and sees on the schedule what jobsite he's working on. 

"Renovations for Harry S Truman High School. Great. I remember the last time we did that one. More fucking flex lines, more fiberglass. A cold shower tonight it is." JT tells himself before he walks out onto the dock and lights up a cigarette.

"Hey, JT. What job you got today?" An older man of about 35-years-old named 'Bubba' asked.

"Truman renovations. Just like last year." JT takes a drag of his smoke. "So more fiberglass and grills even though we just did them a year ago. I hate that shit. Did it too many times in Gulf Shores and that wasn't even Florida, that was in good ol' 'Bama." JT added with an exaggerated southern accent. 

"Really? I've got some PTACs to put in at one of the hotels." Bubba replied while putting in a pinch of Grizzly dark mint. "They're adding some new rooms in the west wing of the building."

"PTACs? Fuck, I'd take that over flex lines. Those are easy and you ain't getting covered in 'glass." JT exhales deeply in frustration. "The stupid shit these school will pay for."

"I heard that." Bubba replied before spitting a big brown glob of spit onto the asphalt below the dock. "Cities and counties take all that money from people and spend it on the most worthless shit they can think of."

JT sighs. "Guess I better get to it. That flex ain't gonna hang itself." JT flicked his cigarette onto the asphalt and started to walk towards his work truck. Truck 29. A gas duley with a black bed and toolboxes on the sides. He gets inside, cranks it up and it starts cleaning. Carefully driving off out of shop's parking lot and makes his way towards the high school. 

After a thirty minute commute, JT arrives to the high school where he meets the general contractor or GC for short. 

"Alright, so what's the damage being done here?" JT asks the general contractor, readying himself to light up a cigarette, but has to put it back because of school grounds. Fuck.

"Well, we're renovating the the north wing on the ground floor. We had a little bit of water damage because of the mechanical room above it and it ruined all the flex lines. The grills are fine this time, but the flex lines were already worn and that water just add up the insulation." The GC had said as they started walking to the site.

Fuck yes. Thank God. So much easier. "Alright. You said ground floor right? Should need just an eight foot ladder, my duct knife, Kleins, and flex. You got the flex here?" JT asked as he followed the GC.

"Yeah we got the flex in the mechanical room on this floor. School paid for it all. Whatever you don't use just leave it in there and if any of it is used, but you don't need anymore of it just toss it." The GC showed JT where the mechanical room nearby. Piled in the corner were boxes of flex, each one containing twenty-five feet of fiberglass, plastic, and wire, all coiled up inside like a snake ready to strike. 

"Alright. Guess I'll get to it." JT shrugged and grabbed a box of flex to bring to the room he was going to be working on.

"Let me know if you're gonna need more flex. They just kinda ordered what they thought was gonna be enough." The GC patted JT's shoulder and started to walk off.

"10-4 good buddy." JT then walked off and started to set the boxes where he was going to be working. A large classroom with heavily water damaged ceiling tiles barely clinging to life. 

JT went to his work truck, grabbed an eight foot ladder, his duct knife, Kleins, panduate strap, and his panduate gun and got right to work on changing out all the flex lines. The moment he touched one of the tiles, it crumbled and disintegrated, covering him in polystyrene. "Goddamit. I figured that would happen." JT tried to shake off the debris, patting his shoulders and arms. It had gotten everywhere on him, causing him to itch and become irritable. 

After a few of the flex lines were done, JT took a seat on the floor and looked at the ceiling grid. The large brown water spots he was so used to seeing in older buildings, they were like a taunt to him. Working on anything that had water damage always annoying to him. "I thought I left this shit behind in Florida. Fucking follows me everywhere." JT shook his head and checked his phone to see a message from Tara.

Good morning speedster. How ya doing? You got work today?

Unfortunately >.>

That sucks. Do you have like any special projects your job has you do or do you just go around fixing people's air conditioning?

They give us jobs to go and work on that they get contracted. Right now, I'm at Harry S Truman High changing some lines that got damaged.

Truman high? I went there!  I bet is still looks the same as it did when I was there. 

I wouldn't know, but I'm covered in destroyed ceiling tiles right now. Shit's water damaged and crumbles like a nature valley bar. Did you know the best place to eat those is in bed?

Haha. Very funny. That place did seem to always have some kind of trouble, but it was a good place. I remember my time there.

It ain't like my school, that's for sure. 

Just more you'll have to tell me tonight.

I'll be sure to enchant you with more tales from Florida Man! 

Can't wait to hear it. I gotta get back to work. My breaks over :(

I gotta do the same. I'll see ya tonight B)

See ya later!

JT locked his phone and exhaled deeply before getting up and getting back to changing the flex lines. Each one was as bad as the last. More crumbling ceiling tiles and soggy, tearing away flex. JT was getting a shower of polystyrene and fiberglass, making the job more and more unbearable. The joys of working HVAC. Least the pay is good. JT thought to himself. 

After hours of work, JT checked his phone again. 2:30PM. "Time to head back to the shop. I'll be back tomorrow. Leave the ladder, take my tools, and take a cold shower. Fucking fiberglass." JT told himself while scratching his arms. He grabbed his tools, loaded up the work truck and made his way back to the shop. Traffic was slow so instead of the thirty minutes it took him to get back to the shop, it was closer to an hour. 

JT arrived at the shop to see everyone else was back. Look at all these part timers. He thought to himself and shook his head. He went into the office, placed his work truck keys on the hanger, wrote down his time for the day, loaded up in his truck and headed home.

When JT gets home, he immediately strips down and jumps into a cold shower. "Ah fuck! Take ya damn breath away!" As quick as JT jumped in he was out and drying off, shivering and disgruntled. "I love my job. I love my Job. I love my job." His mantra was. 

JT then heads to him room and starts looking for something to wear for tonight. Magellan shirt? Nah, I wore that when we first met. Something nicer. JT thought to himself.  He pulled a black shirt and then looked at his closet and found a red and black flannel shirt. He had always loved flannel shirts. Never out of style. If you ask me. He thought to himself. After JT got dressed he looked into the mirror above his dresser and decided his beard needed a slight trim and started taking scissors to it. "Not bad." He told himself as he continued to get himself cleaned up and ready. "A date. I haven't been in one in years. You've got this JT. You've got this."

JT gathered all his things and as he did he looked at the picture of Jessica on his nightstand and smiled. "Our past can shape us, but it's the choices in front of us that can make us who we are." He told himself. JT then looked at his bike and his truck. Taking a moment to decide what he was going to drive, he chose his truck. "A little more comfy and roomy I think." He grabbed his keys and headed out the door and jumped in his truck. He took a deep breath and turned on the radio. 95.3 The Wolf. "Next Thing You Know" by Jordan Davis was playing. JT sat back in his seat, pulled out of his driveway and started making his way back to the city.