Open Starter
It was considerate of the bartender to offer him a drink on the house after his open-mic performance. Anyone could see that he clearly was not doing well, the song reflecting the emptiness and longing he felt inside.
Was it time to move on? Should he let go?
Byron looked down at his hands, clasped around the bottle in an effort to ground him. How long had it been since he had truly held anything in his hands that wasnāt unfeeling and impersonal? The steel knuckles he used to fight, the chilled glass of a drink, paperwork, boxing glovesā¦all so lifeless and dull.
It had been so long since he had held the hand of another, felt a loving embrace, a kiss. So long since Byron had seen himā¦
How much longer could he hold on?
He lifted the bottle, pretending it was the sting of the alcohol that brought tears to his eyes instead of the pain.
He couldnāt do thisā¦ Not here. He slid off the stool after leaving a tip for the bartender for his kindness. He hadnāt realized someone had been beside him quite so closely as he bumped into them. āMy apologiesā¦ā he said softly, turning to them with a weary expression. āI had not noticed you there.ā
The moment Mahir had almost set their neighbourhood coffee shop on fire that morning in a fit of blind panic, was the moment Mahir knew that this day was not exactly on their side. They knew that it was risky for them to spend too much time indoors considering the very nature of their being, but they had decided that, hey, perhaps today would be the day they could get through without much incident and treat themselves to something nice. They really should have known better. It was unclear what exactly it had been that had triggered their reaction, but it had been strong enough that for the briefest of moments they had been sure they had seen someone that always evoked a strong reaction within them. However, as the smoke cleared and the frantic spray from the overhead sprinklers cascaded down upon them and the other patrons, they knew it had been yet another unfortunate byproduct of their overburdened mind.
That wasnāt even to mention that they had to spend about twenty minutes rooted to the spot, as their skin had hardened thanks to the water, just to add insult to injury. After profusely apologizing to the cafe owner, and offering to pay off at least some of the damages with what little money they had, they cloistered themself away in their depressing studio apartment, walls reinforced with metal to prevent any more accidental fires. This modern world was truly not cut out for a being of their nature, and yet all they could do was cope the best they could.
It wasnāt clear why they had decided that going to a local establishment that very same night seemed like a good idea, but perhaps sheer loneliness played a factor. That and they truly located their apartment, in its barren walls and total lack of personality and warmth that many people looked forwards to returning to each night. So here they stood, in what seemed to be a bar, with the added bonus of some stage entertainment, though currently the stage stood empty. Perhaps they were between acts. Mahir shrugged to themselves and made their way to the bar, knowing drinking anything was probably a poor idea all things considering - But before they could do much of anything the person on the stool right in front of them suddenly slid off their stool and turned right into them. Fortunately Mahir had quick reflexes and jumped back, hands in the air as to not accidentally grab onto anything in their own haste to move.
āOh itās no worries.ā They said softly, truly not at all bothered by this. It also didnāt take too long to notice how utterly tired the person looked. A form of exhaustion they themselves understood all too well. They knew it was none of their business, butā¦they couldnāt just ignore them. Too often, in more situations then they could count, all they might have wanted was for someone to show they cared. And so, they added, voice full of genuine concern, not minding if the conversation ended right after,
āHey, are you alright?ā
Byron couldnāt deny he was taken aback by the kindness in the strangerās voice. The otherās appearance was unexpected to say the least, but Byron had more tact than to make a fuss. He had seen more than his fair share of beings that were out of the ordinary, and while curious, would keep to himself about that fact. However, he was unused to people being forgiving in the environments he had taken to seeking out, especially ones in which alcohol was involved. He had witnessed more than his fair share of brawls in the short amount of time he had to vanish to the bars around his work. Still, it was unfair to this unsuspecting person for him to pile on all of his rather dull personal problems upon them. He offered them a smile that couldnāt quite reach his eyes.Ā āTo say that I am would be a lie. However, I would hardly feel right about burdening you with my own issues, though I do appreciate your kindness.ā Byron glanced back at the counter, noting that it wasnāt terribly busy.Ā āMay I buy you a drink as thanks?ā It was the least he could do, and this person seemed to have just arrived. Still, even Byron could acknowledge to himself the way he was projecting gratitude upon this person because of how easy it was. A simple gift was easy reciprocation for something small. He was having considerably more difficulty opening up emotionally to those he worked with and repaying them. Besides, it could always be the alcohol talking.Ā
