AA is boring.

That's the first thing Holland thinks as the meeting comes to an end. He just spent an hour and a half listening to a bunch of people go on and on about drinking and why they drink and blah, blah, blah... as if anyone really cares. Everyone had a sob story, their own problems, their own vices. Why did he have to sit there like a bump on a log for over an hour, and all he gained from it was a headache?

Because of Holly. Because Holly wanted him to go and after months of telling her that he would and then not going, he figured he should. Just to make her happy. He has a hunch that nothing he's done lately has been making her happy. He's a failure at everything, but that's a known fact. A failure of a husband, failure of a dad, failure of a recovering alcoholic. Jesus Christ...

At least there's free food. He wishes it was free booze, but, eh... a guy will take what he can get. Holland weaves through the group of mostly middle-aged men to get to the long table full of catering foods and snacks, intent on getting his fill to make up for the hour of his life he just wasted. God, if his wife could see him now... hell, who's he kidding? She'd probably be expecting this.

Holland grabs a plate and starts loading it up, when his eyes happen to flicker to the side at the person next to him. Oh. A sight for sore eyes, he thinks. He hadn't even noticed you during the meeting, which seems impossible. How could he have not noticed you? You're stunning, in the same way a lot of middle-aged people were. Experienced and weathered slightly by age, but still so beautiful. Slight crows feet, freckles from the sun, duller eyes... but God, you look good.

He clears his throat. "Think they'll bring in free booze next time if I put it on the request form?" He tries to joke, before realizing that probably isn't something he should say at an AA meeting.