Chapter Text
╣ ɮ ʌ ʀ ɱ ʌ ʛ ɴ ʊ ɱ ╠
Chapter One
In one of the less populated areas of downtown Rocheste, Bar Magnum finally quieted down as the 8 o'clock happy-hour rush of customers jumped back into the never-sleeping nightlife for enjoyments of the seedier kind, leaving the rustic establishment devoid of patrons for the time being.
“Well, looks like our shift's over. Want to get some dinner after cleaning up?” Vella untied her apron and stuffed it into her traveling bag with a look of disgust at the beer stains that she would have to wash off later at her apartment's laundry facility.
“Sure, but we have to pick up Fiona first. Her car broke in the morning, so she doesn't have a ride back. Oh, and I can't stay too late out like last time since I have classes in the morning, too.” To her left, Lann expertly balanced six shot glasses in one hand as he carefully organized the washed glassware back into their appropriate places.
“Not a problem, then.” Vella took one of the cleaning rags and began to wipe down the bar counter. The thick slab of polished mahogany was old, probably even older than the building itself, but the lack of large dents or deep scratches on the surface attested to how well the wood had been treated over the years. The same went for the bar stools and the smaller tables scattered around the room.
Half an hour later, as the two workers started on their last tasks for the day – taking out the trash and arranging the chairs back into their proper positions – the heavy cedar door that was the entrance to the bar opened smoothly without so much as a creak of noise from the well-oiled hinges.
Vella tucked in one last chair with a quiet scrape and a dusted her hands with an appreciative grin on her face when she saw who had just walked in. “Hey, you're here earlier than usual!”
Not at all swayed by Vella's leering (it was a normal occurrence that had very little, or none at all, effect on her friends), Kai shrugged a shoulder and walked over to the space behind the bar. Once there, he set down his messenger bag and divested himself of his suit jacket and tie, both of which were then hung on one of the hooks that decorated the employee's door to the backrooms. Kai was in the middle of checking that all the serving glasses and mixing tools were spotlessly clean when the employee's door opened and Lann emerged with his book bag slung over his shoulder.
“Oh, hey boss. Everything's cleaned up like you wanted and the ice was refilled, so we'll be going now.” Lann edged around the other man and practically tripped over himself in excitement as he barely restrained himself from running over to the front door. Vella waved over her shoulder and then the two joined the world outside of the bar with their usual noisy and youthful clamor.
When the door shut behind them, Kai held up a tumbler to the light and sighed when he could still see faintly smudged imprints of someone’s fingers on the glass.
Those kids…
With a clean cloth, Kai began to clean the few still-dirty glasses that had escaped the notices of his novices.
…Why did I hire them again? Oh, right, I owed a favor to the two’s previous employer, who swore they were good workers and just needed a little more ‘training’…
The door to the bar opened, and Kai glanced over to see a man in a double-breasted charcoal suit. The man was extremely tall (nearly one head taller, and Kai considered himself to be taller than average already) and broad enough that if his muscles had been a smidgeon bigger, he probably wouldn’t have fit through the door. The man’s young-looking face, however, was beginning to form permanent lines from stress, and the tight frown that pulled at his lips was only just one of the indicators of how badly his day most likely had went.
The man gave the empty room a cursory look before taking a seat on the middle barstool. “Just a whiskey on the rocks, please. I hope you don’t mind if I smoke.”
Despite the civil tone, Kai could clearly hear that the man’s request to smoke wasn’t really a question – it had been stated more like a fact that oozed with authority.
“I don’t.” Kai turned to make the drink with quick, efficient movements.
The man didn’t take his eyes off the bartender’s hands as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal cigarette tin along with a gold-plated zippo. He opened the tin, which revealed a complete set of Dunhill cigarettes, and selected one at random. He lit up his chosen stick with a precise flick of his thumbs and stowed away the tin and the lighter.
A thin cloud of cigarette smoke was released quietly and respectfully not in the direction of the bartender.
When the drink was served – the glass sitting on top of a simple coaster, of course – the man picked it up but didn’t drink. Instead, he brought the glass up to his face and took a sniff of the alcohol.
“Twin Wood Single Malt. How old?”
“Sixteen.” Kai steeled himself for the outcome.
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” The man took a cautious sip of the drink and froze.
Then, his handsome face lit up.
“This is… absolutely excellent!” After a moment, the man reigned in the joy in his face and composed himself, but there were still traces of happiness that couldn’t be hidden. “If I hadn’t watched you make this, I’d be convinced you’d tricked me somehow! How did you…”
“I see a tired man sitting in front of me.” Kai couldn’t help but lean slightly against the bar counter, smirking inwardly as the other man sat up straighter in his seat with an attentive look. The cigarette was all but forgotten as it slowly burned a ghostly trail upwards that dissipated into the dimmed lights above. “He hasn’t gone home in days because of work and hasn’t slept well because of the stress.”
“How did you know that?” The man’s eyes widened in surprise; he clearly wasn’t used to being read so easily by a stranger. Then, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Have you been following me?”
Kai gave him a bland stare, as if to say Are you that stupid? Or are you just supremely sleep deprived? Probably both.
“Instead of sleeping or eating, you’ve been drinking to an excess. I gave the whiskey a water cut because the normal grade would’ve been too strong.”
“But the taste…” The man’s brow furrowed as he took another sip, a larger one this time. “The taste didn’t change. It always does when you add water.”
Kai gestured to the ice chunks in the tumbler. “Hard ice keeps the flavor.”
The man was silent for a long time after that, steadily sipping his way through his drink and taking small puffs from his cigarette, but his entire expression showed that he was lost in thought. Kai went back to polishing a few more glasses just to keep his hands busy.
After nearly an hour of pure silence – no other customer had come in through the door despite how late it was – the man said, “How did you know I was… struggling?”
“What are bars for?” Kai nailed the guy with another bland stare (this one said, Are you really that unobservant?).
The man sat back, took another drag of his cigarette, and began to laugh.
“You’ve got me.” The man stubbed out his cigarette on the provided ashtray and got up from his seat. He pulled out his wallet and deposited a crisp $100 bill on the bar counter. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Save my seat!”
With a parting wave over his shoulder, the man walked out of the bar with a barely-there skip in his step. Kai waited until the door closed fully before snorting.
Typical businessman… but a strange man…
Kai went over to pick up the cash – seriously, $100? The drink only cost $10 – and the glass. Underneath the base of the tumbler was a small card.
On the front, it read:
Hurk Terminus
CEO of Royal Rocheste Hotel Chains
1530 Old World St., Rocheste, NA 85034
Oh great, the businessman owned the whole block of upper-class hotels a couple of intersections over. Not surprising.
Vaguely interested, Kai flipped the card over. The nearly illegible scrawl read:
I would buy you a drink,
but then I’d be jealous of the glass.
### – 947 – 4285
Kai stared.
And stared.
And stared some more at the absolutely awful pick up line.
Then he slipped the card in his wallet, picked up the used whiskey tumbler, and began cleaning up what little mess there was.