The Deadman

Her hair, which was tied neatly into a ponytail, was resting on her shoulder.  She wore a fur-lined jacket and a pencil skirt that hung tightly around her waist. A yawn escaped her as she watched the customer enter the bar so early in the morning.

“Alcoholism kills,” she said.

The man who entered was tall and had a chiseled body that was too natural to be bioware augmentation. It lacked that artificial perfectness that one could get. He was a man who had recently gotten into her life and had trimmed down her arrogance in a way that she did not want to think it would.

She removed her jacket and put it aside. Her eyes on the counter, hands searching for the usual bottle that she’s been serving this man. Alice, who had noticed her closeness to this man, had teased her about it.

Sincerely however, Julie did not think of Rob that way. He was this odd man who said that he was Robert Oswald. Then he told her that his real name was Kato Lores. She knew that types like Rob have this sense of secrecy that they want to keep on holding to.

Whether it was his real name or not, she frankly didn’t care. Julie, in her mind at least, he was this patron and friend that had been keeping her entertained for the last few months he had come to her life.

The man raises his brows, clearly wondering what the hell she was talking about.

“You’re in a bad mood today,” he said.

“Not really. Seriously, come later, why do I have to see your face?”

“Cause’ this is a bar?”

She snorts, mixes the chem-drink and places it on the counter. Rob took a seat to his usual stool and took a drink. Julie was starting to suspect that his resistance to alcohol was greater than the implant that she got.

“Alice told me that she thought we were dating.”

“She did?” Rob took a sip of his beer. “She needs her eyes checked. Or is she the kind that believes that men and women can’t be friends?”

“I think she does. Not that you see me as one.”

“True.”

A vein would have popped. Julie reined in her rage and landed her eyes on the thick knuckle pressed on her counter. She slapped the knuckle away, leaving Rob to palm the counter instead.

She has insight on Rob. The way he moved and talked reminded him of a tired old man sometimes. His expression was the most familiar. It was similar to the look that her grandpa had when he lost his wife. That desolate look that was looking at the end of the horizon. Rob had already told her nonchalantly that he was a married man once. And in her case a married man who could stay away from women working on brothels were the kind that loved deeply.

She was sure that there was nothing wrong with him. Then again he was a man who seemed to have stopped caring about wanting to sleep with a lot of women. He seemed to be the type that didn’t glorify sex as this vice. Thinking about that made Julie somewhat mad about her juvenile thoughts.  Good Lord, she was already in her thirties and yet that doesn’t seem to change at all.

Nevertheless, Julie’s instincts told her that she shouldn’t dig into what was happening behind the scene. Being a bartender for her was being the ears of the patrons who wanted to talk to her. She learned a lot and heard nasty stories from strangers and customers who have been accustomed to that side of the world. She wanted no part of it and although Lux City has violence. She was lucky enough to have not felt this violence itself.

Her excuse was that she was a fence-sitter. She didn’t want to be part of it, but wanted to listen to that side and observe through the stories of others. And Robert Oswald or Kato Lores was a great liar.

She wasn’t old or wise. However, her grandfather had told her about her knack in seeing through the masks of people. And despite how stony that mask of his was. He couldn’t hide that sad smile he lets out sometimes.

Maybe it’s why Julie couldn’t bother. Honestly, if it wasn’t for how he acts, she would have tried to get some action. She was not that resistant and his looks alone was enough to gather her interest – unfortunately the personality of the man was holding her back.

It was hard. And after many months she had somewhat accepted that she couldn’t possibly move past beyond being his friend. He wouldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t allow it either. Julie hated that she was genuinely pissed about their circumstances. Of course, her preference was also part of the equation why.

She couldn’t imagine him as a cute girl. Even if she does dress him up in a drag. She doubts that she could hide all that Adonis physique and the overall appearance.

It was impossible.

Well, surgery and some very good skin-mask might make it real. However, she can’t imagine him.   Though it would be very funny if she could dress him up into a drag. Dressing up like a woman does not suit him.

“Your eyes look dangerous.”

“A long frilly skirt, red wavy hair, and then some pads. It might work out after all?”

“No.”

“Hear me out.”

“I said no.”

“You’re not fun at all.”

“I don’t like being dressed like that.”

“Might be fun. Maybe you’ll find your true self, Eunuch?”

He crosses his arms and then turns on the screen located above the shelves. Julie looks at the screen. The local news and international news. The rest of it was advertisements and promotions for entertainers. Subscription models and microtransactions that you need payment to view. It was a profitable and stable business that kept their stations afloat. Not that she tries to watch TV nowadays when she can watch her shows on her tablet and virtual reality equipment.

“So what takes you here this early in the morning, really?”

“Needed a boost.”

“I can brew you some coffee.”

Rob nods his head and then finishes his beer. Julie takes out the coffee maker and brews him black coffee grinded from real beans. It was priced highly as a commodity.

“I still feel like I’m being scammed.”

“Go to a real café then.”

“Powdered ain’t bad, but I need some coffee.”

Julie mechanically brews the coffee and places it in a cup.

“Who serves coffee in a goddamn bar?”

“It’s not unusual. You want some eggs?”

“No.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and groans.

“I shouldn’t have taken a sip of a beer before drinking coffee. I feel shit.”

“Should have stopped me then.”

He leans forward, takes a packet of sugar from the container where Julie got her beans, and mixes it in the coffee.

“You know that’s going to cost you a lot.”

“Luxury goods. I know.”

“Good.”

Julie lets out a sigh. The bar’s usually not full of customers. They have loyal patrons that keep the bar from going into red and even if they do go red. The owner has enough spare cash to keep it afloat.

Of course, the real probable reason why this bar’s running was that it’s used for laundering money separately. The boss did tell her that this bar was the comfort place that the Boss made to have a place to drink.

“Have a lot of work these days. Alway on the go.”

“Someone has to stop the demons from eating people you know?”

“Must be terrible people.”

“Well, it’s best to just call them as monsters that can be sent back to hell without remorse.”

“My hero.”

“Thank you, I do it for all mankind, really. Sometimes… the world can’t help but want to kill itself.”

Not sure sometimes if he was making metaphors. There were times that she was unsure what to make of the magicians and monsters that Rob would mention to her now and then.

“Still, it’s been more frequent compared to before. Thought  you gave up on that whole merc-life or something.”

He stops talking. His face was somewhat grave.

“Don’t know. I have enough dough to live a carefree life. I can just do delivery jobs and hang around. I guess it’s always the one last job. To be fair, every job is the last job until you get cocky enough that you’d want to do more. Guess almost getting fried by a superconductor rocked up my brain.”

“What the hell have you been doing that involved something dangerous like that?”

“Stuff.”

“Oh, I know that it’s top secret stuff.”

Rob sighs and crosses his arms.

“Let’s just say that I was trying to close the gates of hell. Tell me, if you have the means to do so. Would  you open the gates of hell?”

“Why would I do that?” she raises her brows.

“For a reason?”

“Other than wanting to make the world a living hell. I don’t see any good benefit of doing that unless I have someone or something that requires doing so.”

“So kinda like I’d even open up hell if it means accomplishing a goal?”

“Talking about someone?” she asked.

“Maybe. I don’t get the idea of it. Something so important that it risks destroying the world  and turning it into orange.”

“Really, what the hell are you doing?”

Julie couldn’t fathom what he was doing. Or maybe this was all just hypothetical questions. She was just some registered chemist that became a bartender despite spending so many years trying to become one to satisfy her family’s expectations.

She wanted to be free from their chains and she was here in this city that had transformed into this bleak preview of what the whole world could be if it couldn’t get a grip. Steel, concrete, and neon lights.

“I don’t know sometimes. It’s hard to not give a fuck when you realize that not caring can get  folk killed.”

Julie thought it over and then decided to speak her mind freely.

“I mean if it makes you happy that you are doing this. But you must be out of your damn mind if you are doing this cause the world demands you to. There’s always a choice to say no to the bullshit that is forcing you to act. Consequences be damned.”

“Reckless, but I can respect that way of thinking.”

His voice had a bit of energy on it.

“It’s always about the choice. What you do in life is determined by how you acted in the first place.”

“That’s one way of saying that it’s your own fault where you are right now.”

“At least I get to decide.”

Rob takes a long sip of his coffee and transfers a payment to the bar. He stands up and stretches his limbs and then places both hands on his hips.

“I guess it’s time to get to work.”

Julie cups her hand. “Are you going to drink later?”

“If I do return home and not get killed  and devoured by some demon spawn.”

“Good luck on not being devoured.”

“As God said, just bring enough guns to make a beehive out of them.”

“God will smite if you keep saying blasphemies.”

Rob grinned and then pocketed his hands inside his jacket.

“See you later.”

“Sure. Get out of here. I need to watch my show.”

“Should do that in your home instead of your workplace. Then again, you have a lot of free alcohol here you can mix up. Don’t drink yourself to death though.”

“Implant will take care of it.”

“Ah, overconfidence over an implant that just lessens the load. You really need to look up your implant or buy something better.”

“I’ll think about it,” she muttered.

Rob left the bar.

Julie watched the door for a minute before sighing to herself and taking a seat on the booth while there were no customers around. Without knowing why, she searched the details of her liver implant and decided to get a better one after reading the summary report of said implant.