"FUCK!" I yelled as I jolted upright. like I was a freshly revived corpse on the table of a mortician. Everything about that felt wrong. Like rather than playing a game I was watching my characters backstory. Like I had paid a team of animators to create a short film based on my RPG storyline or something. I was sweating real badly to...the kind of cold sweat one has when their sleep paralysis demon comes for a visit. Holding my head in my hands I calmed my racing heart, swept my hair out of my face and stood up. Letting the excitement leave my body, first a trip to the bathroom to shower and change then off to bed. 'I've Got work in the morning either way so its best if I get some rest' I look over at the clock shing on the external screen of the capsule. 'Already 1am? Damn better make this shower quick then.' Less than ten minutes later I was asleep.
The next morning after making a quick protein shake for breakfast I was out the door. I had a job to do after all. The capsule wasn't out paying my current job yet after all. On my way to work in my shit box truck I passed a couple of "living" Billboards playing clips of different beta testers playing the game. Arriving at the gym I was surprised by just how busy it had gotten sense news about your real world abilities effecting your in game stats came out.
I went inside to the staff lockers and changed into my gear, a simple black shirt and MMA Shorts. Going up to the room where Ingris would be meeting me. I couldn't help the twitch at the corners of my lips when I saw him already doing the stretches that I showed him a few days ago. "Good morning Ingris, glad to see your taking this seriously." I quipped.
"Good morning Arthur, and of course I am. I have to improve my current physique so that i can build on my skill level with different weapons." Ingris said much to cheerily for six in the morning. I shook my head at him. "Of course how could I forget." With a chuckle from him we got started. I ran him through a couple of boxing drills the typical combo stringing on the bag kind of thing, and of course made him do some endurance training. In his case a half mile walk with twenty pound weight. (Roughly nine kilograms) After sending him to the showers I rejoin the main stream gym giving pointers to a couple of new faces on proper punching posture and catching others struggling with heavier weights before they could accidentally get injured. All and all the day was over pretty quick and clean. From six am to four pm a nice fat ten hour shift for my pay check.
I rinsed off and changed backing into my jeans and tee and walked out the gym saying good night to Rachel on the way out the door. Considering the game was still down for a few days I had a little time to kill. I figured I hit the bar on the way home maybe drink a few beers, cant always drink alone after all. Dad always said it was bad for your health to drink alone but good for your health to drink with friends...I never understood until the day he died. There are few thing I wouldn't give to share a beer with the man. I stepped from the seat of my truck to over look the dingy bar I chose. Far from anywhere Ashly may think to come looking for me again. I pushed open the door ignoring the bright neon sign, Teetering Stool, It felt like Deja vu walking in here. The rowdy people going still and quite and the sight of a newcomer. The bartender giving a nod and the noise resuming like the pause never happened. Reminded me of the game.
I advanced to the bar, eyeing both the beautiful bartender and also the man sitting next to the only available seat at the bar. Not that I wanted to sit at the bar but hey gotta scope out the regulars. with words laced with poisoned honey and a voice with a hidden bite the bartender 'her names Irina?' Said, "Want a drink or just gonna keep eye fucking my like a damn pot head does a dog in a costume?" I couldn't help chuckle at that one, it was a decent jab all things considered. "Of course I want a drink. You might be pretty but I wouldn't fuck you with anything but my eyes and even then I'd be worried about catching syphilis." I snapped back with a edge to my voice making it very clear I likely meant every word. The man at the bar visibly flinched and Irina furrowed her brow and puckered her lips in what I could only assume was irritation. I continued my comment regardless of her feelings though, "Now if your bartending is half as good as your insults I'll have whatever's on tap... And keep them coming until this runs out." I say as I slide into the seat at the bar and push a c-note to her.
A couple hours later and 15??? 20ish??? I lost count. Beers later...
Irina's POV (The Bartender)
Considering the way the man sauntered in I thought he was gonna cause trouble. And then that rude ass comment of his ticked me off so of course i fucked with him a little. every single one of his beers was spiked with tequila. And the fucker actually knocked back a dozen before he started to get drunk. After that though it was over. I've worked at this bar for the last couple years and a few others before that. You start to get a feel for people at some point. Take the guy at the other end of the bar...Slouched over an old-fashioned. He drinks to remember. The guys playing pool? social drinkers. The man passed out on the bench in the back? A man who lost everything to the bottle of Jameson in his left hand, and based on the coin peeking from his breast pocket... he had fall off the wagon pretty hard. So I can say with good certainty that the bastard downing tequila beers, well he's here to forget.
He had set down a hundred on the counter, and by god did he use damn near every nickel. After our rough introduction he was polite, unlike some of the regulars he didn't try to hit on me. Nor was he a jackass when asking for another drink. Just raised his glass and made eye contact before finishing it. Other than that we did talk much, maybe that's why I was so curious, I mean most of the time people who come here to this sleezy ass bar aren't great people. Criminals and dirtbags the lot of them. But this guy seemed put together all things considered. Especially considering he wasn't bitching about whatever brought him here. Most people come to a bar drinking like he is and they start to bitch and moan about whatever woes they have. Like I'm some god damn therapist.
Either way the guy drank his 18 beers and stood up to leave when I told him his tab ran out. Or that's what I'd like to say but in reality... Right now I'm giving him my number after he kicked the shit out of one of the regulars who got way to rowdy and tried to get frisky with me. It was amazing...
Carrying a tray of drinks over to the guys at the pool table, a close nit friend group that were regulars here, "Hey guys I got your drinks!" I called out to get their attention. The guys started laughing and came over to get their drinks from the table I had set them down on while I was leaning over to grab the empty mugs. 'Smack' "What the fuck!" I yelled as I turned around and came face to face with Clint. A regular at the bar with a bad attitude and a wandering hand. "Clint get the FUCK out of the bar right now!" I yelled at him Afterall he had done this shit before and the owner told me to black-list him the next time he did it. Except Clint Had different ideas, "Oh don't be like that Irina... I know ya like it." He stepped closer, and unfortunately there was nowhere for me to go because I was stuck between him the table and a wall. "I'll treat you right, just give me a taste." This was gonna end badly if i didn't put a stop to it right now, "Clint. I said no now back up!" Clint didn't give a shit though, stepping even closer and reaching out to grab me. I was preparing to fight back to do anything, when out of nowhere a hand grab clints shoulder and turned him slightly.
In unhurried rubble a voice spoke up above the bars ambient laughter, "Now I believe the lady sad no." Clint's face twisted in annoyance and anger, as he spun to face to voice he roared out, "Who the fuck do you think you are!" As he turned I was surprised to see him, the guy who insulted me on our first interaction. The man just smiled, but not a nice smile. It looked more like the grin of a feral cat than an actual smile. "Who I am doesn't matter, however when somebody says no. It means... Fucking NO." To all of our shock Clint swung on him only to get knocked out by a elbow to the temple. "Holy fuck"
I wrote my number down on his receipt, " Here ya go sir, Call me sometime." He chuckled and walked out of the bar swaying only slightly. 'I wonder if he'll give me a call...'