Devin wished that he could say he enjoyed being at the bar, that he liked bustle of half drunk people and bad music, that he was there for any reason other than the fact that he was just used to it there. That wasn’t the case. He couldn’t stand the motley crowds that gathered to drink cheap beer and listen to rhythm-less tunes, or really any crowds, for that matter. He couldn’t stand being jostled by people who were too inebriated to walk in straight lines. Yet somehow, he found himself sitting there at the counter night after night with Tatch or anyone else who came along for a drink.
It certainly wasn’t because he enjoyed being there. He simply recognized no other options. Too many years of his life had been spent getting pissed and drunk at bars, too many cheap beers consumed, too many foul shots thrown back. This was all he knew, and he could only count himself lucky that he had learned to hold back. More than a handful of fights had happened in places just like this, fights that had involved getting his a** handed to him or, when he had gotten a little older, fights that had involved beating somebody else senseless. No doubt more of those would happen if he allowed himself to get drunk.
It wasn’t like he had much reason to over drink these days. His life had pulled itself out of the gutter, his fist hadn’t felt the sting of punching somebody in the face for a good many years, and his body had long since stop craving any sort of illicit substance. By all accounts his life was better, if not good, and there was no reason for him to feel like alcohol was his only friend.
Except that today, it might be. Today, six years ago, his brother Drew had been trampled to death in a riot. Devin refused to dwell on any details other than the fact that it was time for a drink – many drinks. He lifted his bottle to his lips, taking a swig of beer before glancing over to Tatch and motioning to his. “How’s your beer?”
“Well, it’s no eighty year old whiskey,” Tatch smiled wryly, watching as his friend took another pull from the bottle.
Devin scoffed. “It’s crap.”
“Yea, it’s not great,” Tatch replied, frowning as Devin downed the rest of his beer. “How far are you trying to go with that?” Tonight, of all nights, Tatch had come along because he understood too well what Devin was feeling. Tatch had known Drew almost as well as Devin had, and he knew Devin almost as well as he had known Drew. Tonight was trouble.
“You don’t have to be so nice about it, man, it’s a ******** beer, you won’t hurt its feelings.” Devin scowled down at his empty bottle. Sixth beer, not so much as a buzz - or anything, really, other than a slight repulsion at having downed so many of them already. “Yea, don’t worry Tatch, last one.” What he meant, of course, was that it would be his last beer. Discarding the bottle, he glanced up and waved the bartender over. “You got any good tequila?”
“Only the best.”
“I doubt that,” Devin said with a small sneer. “Give me two.”
“Oh, come on, Dev, you don’t need--”
“You know what, make that three,” Devin addressed the bartender, cutting Tatch off. The man behind the counter shrugged, lining three shot glasses up and filling them. Devin reached for the first and downed it, wincing as the tequila went down. “That’s more like it.”
Tatch could only frown. “Come on, man, you don’t need this. You haven’t gotten drunk in over a year. Why revisit the past? Is it worth it?”
“Hey, you’re the one who agreed to come with, Tatch.”
“Yea, because somebody had to be here to watch you,” Tatch shot back. “You know, you think nobody cares, Dev, but that’s not true. You don’t have to deal with things on your own. I knew him too, you know.”
Devin made no response. His gaze had wandered past Tatch and was fixed upon the door, which had just opened for an arriving patron. “Who told her to come?” He asked suddenly, voice low.
“Nobody told anybody to come.” Tatch turned to see Ariana, one of his poker friends, standing imperiously at the door, nose upturned at the filth that coated the establishment. She had wealth to match the immaculate mink coat that sat atop her shoulders and an absentee husband who worked in the city ten months out of the year. From what he understood, the husband was a steam or boat baron of sorts who had accumulated his wealth throughout the years. None of them was under the impression that the man was at all faithful – he had the money with which to entice certain female… companions and the freedom with which to do so. Nobody knew much, but Tatch assumed that the husband had more than a few affairs happening in the city while his wife stayed behind in Akoya to watch over the estate.
So of course, it made sense that Ariana sought, in her own way, revenge. If it was so painfully obvious that her husband had other women abroad, then Tatch could understand why she was so eager to find her own affair at home. Unfortunately for his friend, it seemed she had decided that her target ought to be Devin. Never mind that he distrusted people to begin with and rich people even more so.
“Can’t catch a ******** break…” Devin muttered, tossing back his second tequila shot while his storm-gray eyes followed the older woman as she made her unmistakable way over. “You shouldn’t have invited me to that poker game, man,” he added, motioning to the bartender for more shots. He was going to need them before the night was out, especially if Ariana was hanging around.
He had just downed his third shot when Ariana came to a stop beside him. “Good evening, Tatch,” she said almost graciously before turning to Devin. Her slender arm came up to encircle his shoulder as she peered down at the tequila, and then at the bar counter. “My, but it’s… crowded in here, isn’t it?” she said, doing her best to make light of the situation. Discreetly, her hand slid from his shoulder, trailing lightly down his back.
Devin paused in bringing the next glass up to his lips, waiting for her to stop. “We like it,” he lied, tossing back the shot. He could feel Tatch’s look of concern fixed upon him.
“Would you like a seat Ariana?” Tatch asked hastily, shifting one stool over so the woman could perch between the two of them. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll be able to stop him drinking.”
Ariana smiled pertly, accepting the seat. “Well, I don’t know if it’s such a bad thing,” she said, leaning over to Devin to place her hand lightly atop his thigh and earning herself a silent downward glance. “Clearly, you have a reason to drink, hmm?” Her voice dropped to a sultry purr, and her tongue ran slowly across her upper lip as her hand slid carefully up his leg. Devin frowned, and wordlessly, he moved his hand to stop hers from sliding any further. He cleared his throat meaningfully, glancing over at her with no humor in his eyes. Ariana drew back, then lifted the shot glass from his hand and drank it. “In that case,” she said with a small smile. “Excuse me a moment. I have to borrow their lady’s room.”
The two men watched her leave before Devin pulled the last shot up before him and stared down into his transparent depths. “Hey, good on you, man,” Tatch said, moving back onto the unoccupied stool. “Doing… that,” he motioned toward the bathroom. “Will only be trouble. It’s good that you passed it up.” Devin said nothing, staring down at the tequila as if contemplating something. “… Right?” Tatch said uncertainly, glancing nervously in the direction of the bathroom.
“But… I mean, why not?” Devin said finally, eyes still fixed upon the shot glass.
“Why not?” Tatch echoed, frantic. “Because she’s married, is why not. Because her husband would kill you. And if he didn’t do that, he’d just hire someone else to do it for him. Because she’s forty?” Devin shot him a look. Clearly, not good enough reasons. Tatch felt his heart sink. “Seriously, Dev… you can’t.”
Devin frowned. “Just like you can’t go rioting, right?” He said, staring back down at the tequila.
“What, of course you can go rio—oh,” Tatch trailed off, knowing that Devin was thinking of his brother. “So what is this then, tempting death? You want to screw her so her husband will kill you and send you off to be with Drew where you belong? That’s not the way it works, Dev.”
“How would you know, Tatch? You’ve never been there.”
“Devin, you’re not thinking straight. You’ve had five tequilas in fifteen minutes. Don’t do it,” Tatch fairly pleaded. He wasn’t sure what else he could say to convince his friend.
“No, I’m thinking fine,” Devin said, though they both knew that it was a lie. If not the alcohol, then Drew’s death was enough to cloud his mind. He was feeling sad, and lonely, and they both knew that he just wanted to do something utterly stupid to prove a point that didn’t exist. Still. He took a breath and tossed back the shot, setting the glass down with a clink. Without another glance at Tatch, he pushed his stool back and stumbled for the bathroom.
Men’s… women’s… Devin faltered, pushing back the latter. He was starting to get that buzz that clouded his mind and made him act on impulse alone. That was probably a good thing for what he was about to do. He swallowed as his unsteady gaze landed on Ariana, who stood primping her hair before the mirror. Her head turned as the bathroom door opened with a bang, and a smile settled on her face.
“And I thought you were never going to make it,” she said, a triumphant gleam dancing in her eyes as she made her way over. She stood close, so close and her hands slid up against his chest.
“Just…” Devin steadied himself against the door. “Shut up.”
“Fine.” She pulled him in. The door swung closed, and she flipped the lock before pushing him up against the wall. He tilted his head downward and her lips locked on his fiercely. She reached eagerly for his belt even as he pushed her back and sat her atop the sink counter, pressing her back against the mirror. Her hands shifted, combing through his hair, reaching to pull at his pants … then she paused mid-kiss, her face still millimeters from his. “You have… protection, right?”
Devin drew back. For a moment, he was silent as he surveyed her eager face, her makeup. “Uhm,” he cleared his throat, seeking to find his bearings. “No, I don’t,” he said finally, straightening up.
“Well,” she said, easing herself off the sink and pulling her dress back into place. “I guess that’s that.” Without bothering to fix her hair, she turned and flounced out of the bathroom.
Devin glanced back at the mirror, staring silently into his own reflection. Then, finally, he ran his hand through his hair, fastened his belt, and tugged his shirt back into place to button up again.
“What, no dice?” Tatch asked, relieved when his friend slipped back onto the stool beside him.
Devin shook his head. “Didn’t have… protection,” he said simply, opting to use Ariana’s words.
Tatch stared at him suspiciously. “Bullshit.”
Devin shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“No, you changed your mind, is what it is,” Tatch said, shaking his head. “You’re a decent guy, Devin. You forget that sometimes.”
“Doubtful.”
Tatch didn’t bother arguing. Devin was too hard on himself sometimes, but Tatch figured that it took someone on the outside to see it. “Regardless, that was a good thing you did, letting her walk out of there.” He paused, glancing at the bartender. “How about a beer? This round’s on me.”
WC: 2056
